Family Bonds
by
Kimalis
4
Spike remained where he was on the stairs, with the entire table in his view. From there no one would be able to tell he was keeping an eye on just the boy. He saw Xander settle down between Willow and Tara. Was he avoiding the Slayer? Spike couldn’t blame him after her emasculating comment. He looked the young man over. Yes there was definitely something different, obviously more confidence, as he’d seen earlier, and the clothes had seriously improved. Xander had made some effort with this outfit, the jeans fit well showing off long legs and solid work-built muscle. His pullover was not tight but was snug enough that Spike could see the definition of his broad chest. He seemed to be letting his hair grow out a bit too. It was mostly brushed back from his face, and was long enough to curl over his collar. Nice.
Giles had sat down directly opposite Xander, with his back to Spike. Good. That way Xander could look as though he were paying attention to Giles and could sneak peeks at Spike without being too obvious. Turned out, it wasn’t as easy as he thought it would be. Each time he looked at Spike he found the vampire staring back at him. Xander pretended for the next few minutes to be engrossed in Giles’ run down of Buffy’s activities. The next time he chanced a look, Spike was raking his gaze over Xander’s body with an appreciative expression. Oh, god. Is he checking me out? Xander panicked when he felt a stirring at this thought. He tucked his chair further under the table and shifted in his seat, adjusting his jeans and hoping nobody noticed. Spike noticed. Murphy’s Law. Crap.
As he caught Xander’s eye, Spike’s eyebrow twitched and the hint of a smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth. Hmm. Not exactly what he had expected this evening but it looked as though it was going his way. About bloody time something did. When he saw the embarrassment in Xander’s face, Spike decided to relocate himself. Best not push his luck. He rose off the stairs and went to fetch some blood from the fridge, leaving Xander free to concentrate on Giles.
“And as for this week coming, well it’s much like the last week; there’s nothing to report really. We don’t have any major apocalypse looming, no prophecies slated to play out until early next year and according to Spike’s information, we don’t have any serious demon activity to worry about.”
“So all’s quiet on the Sunnydale front?” Willow asked. “Just basic crowd control?”
“Well, quieter than usual, yes. But that’s no excuse to not be vigilant. We still need regular patrols. There is a nest of vampires over on the north side of the Shady Hill Cemetery that needs some attention.” Giles turned to Spike who had returned from the fridge with a mug in his hand. “I was rather hoping, Spike, that you would take care of that.” Having delivered his orders he turned his back to the vampire. .
Spike eyed the man over the edge of his cup and shook his head. It hadn’t been a request. Did they ever ask him? He should just tell them where to stick their nest. Mind you, if he started refusing or making a fuss then he would most likely be out on his arse. What then? Freelance? At least here he had something to keep him out of trouble…ok well something to get him into as much demonic trouble as he could poke an axe at. Otherwise, he would be out there looking for a fight, maybe getting caught up with humans, and wouldn’t that end badly for him and his bloody chip. For now, he had to stick with this group, they would provide him with all the violence his unbeating heart could desire. Especially since Red had gone hard core Wicca, but ballsed-up most of her spells. Those nights were always good for a laugh; when Willow accidentally conjured up some nasty that needed containing. Didn’t happen often, but Spike took his pleasure where he could.
And the boy; did he have a target on him or what? Never had Spike seen the like of it. Again, not often but compared with everyone else, the number of demonic close encounters Xander got into was mind boggling. His friends’ stock standard response was to blame the boy as if it was his intention to be chased down, tied up, whatever. Idiots. He grew up on the Hellmouth and had reached the ripe old age of twenty-one without being turned or buried; he wasn’t stupid, despite what past fashion choices might suggest. You just couldn’t survive that long if you didn’t have a bit of nous. Shame none of them took the time to look into that.
Giles voice interrupted his train of thought and Spike cast an irritated glance his way. “I can’t help but notice Spike, you’re still here. Aren’t you leaving?”
“Of course he is Giles. Spikey you go earn your keep and we’ll all hit the Bronze,” Buffy taunted the vampire.
“Right you are Slayer. Anything else while I’m doing your job for you?” Spike carefully set down his mug and stepped away from the potential weapon, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Much as he would love to hurl its contents at her, he didn’t think he would live long enough to enjoy the visual.
“Hey, scooter! We pay your way around here. Just you remember who keeps you in blood,” Buffy pointed her finger at him.
Yeah, great. Cold pig’s blood. Cold, often stale, pig’s blood. That was the hardest pill to swallow; having to rely on these people to feed him. Every now and then, he would find a bag of fresh human blood hidden under his regular supply. None there tonight though, hadn’t been for over a week. He’d no idea who was buying it, there was no scent left on the bag to trace. But he was deeply thankful for it each time it appeared. Without that top up he would be too weak to be of any use.
Willow looked nervously from Buffy to Spike who were both tensed and staring each other down., “Ok, how about we all just take a deep breath.” At Spike’s look she faltered. “Or..or, not a breath, if you happen to be a Non-Breathing American….or British-American….or…..tea anybody? No? No tea……ok”
Spike shook his head, turning away from the slayer and noticed Xander had been watching him with a thoughtful expression. Xander had stood off to the side wondering how far this latest round would go on. Slayer versus vampire with a witch refereeing, another in the long line of bizarre, totally familiar, but bizarre events that made up his life. Being familiar didn’t mean he had to put up with it though.
“Ok Buff, leave it be,” Xander told her gently. “He knows the score.”
“Xander, you feeling ok?” she asked him. “You’re sticking up for Spike.”
Xander rolled his eyes at her and spoke clearly but with more than a hint of impatience, “I’m not sticking up for him. But I’ve been back for a matter of minutes and you’ve started with insults already. I just want go have a drink and catch up with everyone, share some stuff. Simple plan. Which does not include listening to your incessant baiting of the resident vamp.”
Spike watched the interplay between the two friends. When he could hear Xander’s heartbeat pick up speed he decided to jump in before the boy said something he couldn’t take back. “Thanks, but I don’t need you speaking for me Whelp. I can deal with this piece of fluff myself.”
Buffy pulled a stake from her pocket and waved it at him, “You wanna deal with this?”
"Enough, Buffy!” Xander said.
Willow jumped, “Xander?”
He sighed. “Sorry Will.” His voice softened considerably as he addressed Willow and then Spike. “And Bleachie, I was not speaking for you, I was speaking for me. I thought I said that already. You deaf and blonde?”
“Children, that’s quite enough all round I think,” Giles raised his voice ensuring he was heard by all. “Xander you mentioned free drinks? And I’m sure the girls are hoping to hear all about your week. Please, now would be a good time for you all to leave.”
“Yeah, good idea Giles. Ok folks, my car’s just down the street.” Xander gathered his womenfolk, tossed the keys to Tara and motioned them towards the car. “Let everyone in for me Tara, I’ll be there in a second.”
Anya stopped the girls as they were collecting their things. “I’ll take everyone to my house to freshen up and change first, we’ll meet you at your car.”
Willow hugged Xander before joining Tara for the short walk to Anya’s.
“Ahh, and silence reigned.” Giles turned to Spike as he tidied up the shop. “Now, if you would see to the nest; sooner rather than later of course.”
Spike had had enough of being organised and ordered about. “I know about that nest and there’s no point going tonight, Rupert. It’s a bunch of fledges I met a couple of days ago and I know that tonight they had plans that involved a basket of kittens and a deck of cards. Don’t know where they are right now but they’ll be back. Best if the Slayer goes in tomorrow during the day and catches them sleeping.”
“Right, yes of course…if you don’t know their current whereabouts it will have to wait. Go home then Spike.” Looking at Xander he motioned to the training room. “Xander a word if you will?”
Xander glanced at Spike who was making no move to leave. Spike gestured for Xander to follow the watcher then sat himself down on a stair to finish his mug of blood. Xander followed Giles through to the back room feeling a little apprehensive.
“What’s up G-Man?”
"How many times must I ask you not to call me that?”
“Always one more. So…?”
“Oh…I…ah, that is…” Giles stumbled over his words looking decidedly uncomfortable.
“Giles. Do you want to talk about feelings? Is that why you have that look? That, ‘I’m very British and this is making my pancreas hurt’ look?”
Giles gave him a small smile. “You are more perceptive than they give you credit for. Yes Xander, I want to talk about feelings.”
“Talk away, father figure.” Xander chuckled at Giles surprised but pleased expression.
“I, ah, wanted to say that I am very impressed with the way you have handled yourself. With regard to Anya. I have had occasion to speak with her while you were away. Your separation could have gone badly, but you conducted yourself with a great deal of maturity.”
Xander was gobsmacked. He was expecting a lecture about having gone away, not leaving details, taking no one for protection, endangering himself, blah blah…But here was Giles, throwing him for a loop.
Xander understood this was not moment for levity. “Thankyou. From you that means a lot.”
Giles briefly laid a hand on his shoulder. “You are a good man, Xander.”
“I hope to be.”
“I’ve no doubt. This business with Anya, your overall manner, even the way you have dealt with Buffy's ...ah...Buffy this evening. It speaks volumes.”
Xander smiled and gave him a nod of thanks.
Giles looked uncomfortably around him. “Ah, yes, well that was all I wanted to say.”
With a large grin and a stage whisper, Xander said, “Hows your pancreas?”
And, there was that look that Xander was more familiar with. he laughed and headed for the doorway to the shop front.
Turning back to the watcher, Xander asked, “You coming for a drink Giles?”
“Ah, no. As much as I would like to…well that would be a lie. I could think of nothing worse.” Giles went off to the back door with a set of keys jangling from his hand.
“Alrighty… and then there were two.” Xander took a deep breath and steadied himself before going back out to the shop floor. Spike was still out there. Could he ask him to join them? Would Spike want to? He’d not said anything to Xander at all out of the ordinary. And what did a few glances mean? Xander knew a bit about vampires; there was a wealth of information in the Watcher's off-limits shelves. They would pretty much go anything with a pulse…actually pulse was optional. So how flattering could it be that Spike was eyeing him? And surely he had misinterpreted that look anyway. While the thought gave him endless fuel for fantasies, the reality of it was so unlikely. But how could he know? Here was an opportunity, not a one on one situation, so reasonably safe, invite Spike as part of the group. Then if he was wrong no harm, no foul, no need to bang his head into a wall when he made himself look like a fool. Be casual, be calm.
“Spike? How ‘bout you. Bronze?” Good, voice didn’t crack, new, cool persona still in place.
Spike was taken aback. He’d been helping these people for a fair while now and this was the first time he’d been invited anywhere, by anyone. And on top of that, it was Xander doing the asking. Score one for the unpopular vampire. He took a deep breath, scented the air and got a lungful of pheromones for his troubles. It was like a kick to the groin. A nice kick. So, that’s how it was then. Spike looked at him thoughtfully. Not his ideal night out, but what the hell. He was opening his mouth to answer when the door’s bell jangled.
5
“I forgot my bag, I left it-” Buffy’s head poked through the door and she noticed Spike still inside. “God Spike, why won’t you ever leave?”
Spike closed his eyes and counted to ten. Ten deliciously different ways he could pull her arms off. Could he really bear a night making small talk with the Scoobies, trying to translate their inane chatter on the fly? Discuss the state of affairs on the Hellmouth with the Slayer? Could he do it and would they want him there? Not without trying to kill someone and, hell no, were his answers. Not even to spend time with Xander could he put up with that tonight. Bloody hell. He was angry at himself for being the cause of his own disappointment.
“On my way out now Slayer.” He looked at Xander, trying keep his face neutral so as not to show any of the deep loathing he was currently feeling for the slayer. He had a feeling he wasn’t too successful as he told Xander, “Not tonight.” Turning quickly and striding out the door he failed to see the look of disappointment and confusion cross Xander’s face.
“Don’t let the door hit you Spike,” Buffy said as he passed. His response was silent- two fingers in the air- before he shut the door behind him.
~*~*~*~*~
Bloody relentless harridan; would she never let up? Spike lit a cigarette, turned in the direction of his crypt and began the walk home. He’d fought all manner of beasts but that bloody Slayer, none could match her for ripping a man’s balls off and handing them to him with a little pink ribbon. Didn’t matter what Spike did to help those people, it was never enough for her. Not that he was looking for her approval, he wasn’t in it for a pat on the back. But her constant indiscriminate sniping was eating away at him and he had no opportunity for a counterblow. Not if he wanted to remain part of their group. And god how that chafed at his demon. He would love nothing more than to disembowel the lot of them. But even if he had not been chipped there was still Xander to consider. And the way to a man’s heart was definitely not through his friends’ stomachs.
As far as those meetings went, a short night was a good night...usually. Tonight though, he could have stood it for just a bit longer. Xander had seemed happy enough to see him. Definitely happy enough to notice Spike admiring his form. And the scents he was giving off! There was no mistaking that. Maybe he had been a little hasty in leaving. What if he just went to the Bronze and lurked a little? Sat up on the balcony, nursed a few drinks. Watched the boy for a bit, who could that hurt? But why? Well, why bloody not, nothing else to do. Damn town had never been so quiet as this past week. Decision made, Spike retraced his steps via the Magic Box, heading for the Bronze, muttering to himself about evil masters not being so bloody indecisive.
He’d rounded a corner, just a block from the store when he heard her voice again. The slayer and the boy were walking away from the shop and Spike could see Buffy animatedly re-enacting some fight or other. But it was Xander that held Spike’s attention. The difference in him from the young man he had seen enter the shop such a short time ago was astounding. Where was the tall, confident and happy man? Where had this slumped, dejected looking boy come from? Before they could see him, Spike ducked into a darkened alcove. Their voices came to him clearly.
~*~*~*~*~
Xander led Buffy out of the shop and towards Anya’s apartment. She was chatting about some demon or other that she had stabbed, sliced, dismembered…or something; his mind was back in the Magic Box. Spike hadn’t looked like a guy who was about to say no. Not that Xander would really know, he’d never done much asking, was always the askee. He must have totally misread Spike the whole evening. That made sense though. A master like Spike couldn’t be interested in him, no matter how shiny and new he made the outside. That hint of revulsion, disgust, or something similar on Spike’s face had shocked him though. He’d been prepared for possible rejection, but for Spike to have felt like that towards him? What he definitely didn’t misread though, was how much the vampire was restraining himself when it came to Buffy’s derision. Even if it turned out that Spike still hated him, he couldn’t take much more of the tension between the two. When she got herself revved up, everyone was on edge.
He knew Spike wasn’t popular with his friends, but he also knew that it was pretty much just Buffy who had major issues. Willow and Tara, he could see, were beginning to soften, although were still very wary and kept out of his way. But Buffy? It was like she had this second mission to see how far she could push Spike. He broke into her graphic description of the demon’s entrails. “Buffy why do you do that?”
“I’m the Slayer Xan, duh, where have you been the last five years?”
He shook his head, “No, not the demons. I mean why do you have to goad Spike like that?”
“And again, I’m the slayer Xan.” How did she always manage to make him feel five years old with that tone?
“So…”
“What? You think he can’t take it?”
“Actually Buffy, I’m trying to see why he should have to.” He stopped and faced her. “Where does it get you?”
“It gets me nowhere, it often gets him gone.” She told him with a satisfied look.
“But we need him here.”
“We need him when we need him, other than that? I don’t care.”
“I do though. He’s done so much for us, and he puts up with nothing but crap from you. Just doesn’t seem right”
“Xander what’s with you?”
What was with him? Tired of old nonsensical patterns, frustrated by his friend’s lack of faith in him, looking for a new start, wanting to begin something new and not knowing how or even if he could. He shrugged. “Just asking why.”
“Why? Ok. Vampire. Souless. Demon. Psychopathic. Annoying.” She counted off on her fingers. “Isn’t that a good enough reason?”
“Not from where I’m standing.” He counted on his own fingers. “Chipped, defenceless, half starved, working with us, saved your life last week, saved all of ours the week before, tortured by a pissed off Hell god to protect us. More?”
“No, Xander. That’s about enough. I have no idea what’s going on, you’re not yourself this week. Tonight you’re acting like someone I don’t know. You’re defending Spike. You break up with Anya and couldn’t even face us after. You ran away by yourself hoping it would all blow over.” She shook her head at him. “I don’t know, maybe you just made a really bad decision with Anya and you’re not in a good place right now. It’s not too late to fix whatever you did. I mean you didn’t even talk to us about it first. We could have stopped you. You two had a great thing going and you’ve just thrown it all away. ”
Xander listen to her skewed summation of him with astonishment. A burst of adrenalin pulsed through Xander’s body. Fight or flight? “Who the hell do you think you are?” Fight it was.
“I know exactly who I am Xander. I’m the Slayer.”
“Yes. You’re the Slayer. Huge responsibility, which you handle pretty well. You have a hard life and you do amazing things. I have more respect for that than you realise. But Buffy, being the slayer means you deal with the demons, protect the world. It doesn’t mean you get to pass judgement on me and decide how my life is or how it should be.”
“You think that’s what I do?” she asked him.
“I know that’s what you do. I broke up with Anya, so I must have done something wrong. Did you even talk to her about it before you took a flying leap into that conclusion? I took some time out for me to deal with it and its all about how it might affect you. You know why I didn’t talk to you about it before? Because I didn’t need you to hold my hand. I am capable of directing my own life without you telling me how.”
“Xander, just take a step back and look at how you’ve been acting, the decisions you’ve made.”
He stared at her unbelievingly, what did she think he’d been doing? “Buffy I just spent a whole damn week ‘stepping back’. And I will tell you this for free. I like what I saw. I’m basically happy with me. I made good decisions. I’m happy with those too.”
She laid a hand on his arm. “Well I’m not happy. I’m worried.”
He shook her off. “But that is your issue Buffy. I won’t make it mine. You need to deal with it yourself. And I would rather you just got on with it and left me the fuck alone.” Xander was struggling but managed to rein in his temper
Buffy reached out her hand again. “Calm down Xan. Let’s go back to Anya’s and we can all sit and work this out.”
Xander shook his head slowly as he took a few steps away. He looked down at her with barely contained anger. “No. No. There is nothing for me to work out. You go back to Anya’s. You talk to Anya. Get your facts right. Then maybe we’ll have something to work out. I love you Buffy, but right now? Right now, I have had enough. Enough of being belittled, enough of being patronised. Enough of being the funny, little boy who’s allowed to hang with the big kids.”
He gritted his teeth and ran his hands through his hair. “Just go please Buffy.” When she opened her mouth to speak again he held up his hands to stop her. “No more, please. Just go now.”
He turned his back to her and heard her hesitant footsteps heading away. When he could no longer hear her, he let go the control he had been barely holding on to. Xander leaned his forehead against the lamppost that was spreading a harsh pool of light around him. Hands gripped tightly around the cool metal, he anchored himself to this solid support; heart racing, head pounding. His eyes were burning and he felt sick to his stomach. He drew in great hitching breaths trying to calm himself. As unsettled and agitated as he was, he registered the warm night breeze carrying the familiar and not altogether unwelcome scent of smoke and leather.
6
Spike had watched the whole event play out in front of him. Had this been anyone else he would have relished the sight: the anger, hurt and betrayal. Days gone by he would have fed on both of them just for that heady rush of passion-filled blood. But this was Xander and all he felt at this moment was empathy. Only a short time ago he had been feeling powerless against the slayer’s bombardment, which was enough to leave him feeling murderous. This bint had been the lad’s friend for years and she had ripped into him like a disappointed mother berating a child. No wonder Xander was reacting the way he was. Spike had darkness inside that made it simple for him; he wanted rip her useless head from her body. Xander was human, he buckled under the weight of his friend’s demoralising treatment.
Spike ground out his cigarette then wandered cautiously over to where Xander stood motionless against the lamppost. To allow the boy some measure of privacy Spike stayed behind him and waited. He could hear Xander’s pulse, still faster than normal but slowing, as was his breathing. What to do. Approach? Wait? He was saved from the stress of having to make another decision by a soft voice.
“What?”
“Drink?”
Xander turned and leaned heavily against the pole. “Thought you’d left?”
Spike shrugged. “Thought I had too. Drink?”
“Why did you come back?”
“You want me to go?”
Xander closed his eyes. What did he want? Minutes ago in the Magic Box, Spike had looked at him with such antipathy, yet here he was. Spike must have overheard what had just gone on. He was there at Xander’s side just a couple of minutes after Buffy had left. Even if he hadn’t been close by, vampire senses would have picked up on everything. Was he here to gloat? Xander didn’t know if he was in a fit state to be taking this in. He was still reeling from his confrontation with Buffy. But did he want Spike to go?
I don’t know if you hate me, but I want you to stay. Xander shook his head.
“You ok?”
You’re asking but do you really want to know? “So not.”
“Drink?”
“Déjà vu all over again. You said no.”
“Didn’t want to though. But that slayer was-”
“Buffy,” he laughed sardonically. “Is it any wonder the girl has ego issues. I thought you were an evil doer who bends to no one?”
“Well, yeah. I am. Just didn’t fancy trying to play nice with a slayer who would be happy to sweep me out the door.”
He sighed. “Yeah, I get that.”
“Do you now?”
He nodded. “So is that the only reason?”
“It is.”
Xander looked at him sceptically.
“You think otherwise Harris?”
“Just the look on your face. Didn’t exactly scream regret.”
“No, I imagine it screamed something a little more bloody-minded than that. It wasn’t directed at you.”
“Buffy again.” And they were back to her. If Xander was looking for a common ground, some starting point then this was likely it. They both had Buffy issues, different cause and effect, granted, but this was something. They both needed a sounding board. Before he could act on that though, he needed to be straight in his mind.
“Why, Spike?”
“Why Spike what?”
“Why didn’t you want to say no?”
Ah. The million dollar question. What to tell him? Something simple. It had been a difficult evening for the lad and Spike didn’t want to cause him anymore confusion. He just wanted to offer some easy companionship. To start with. Then follow the boy’s lead. “You seem to be a good bloke, one I would like to have a drink with.”
“That’s all?”
“No. But it’ll do for a beginning. So, drink?”
Xander eyed him. There was more, but it would keep. Spike said it was a beginning. That meant there might also be the chance of a middle. Xander was mentally exhausted and in no fit state for a deep and drawn out heart to heart. It would be enough to go on with. Tonight Xander would be glad of the company, male company at that, which needed no deep analysis of emotions and sharing of the same. Company, who knew exactly where he was at right now. Company who was apparently interested in him and wouldn’t try to tear him down.
“Let’s go.”
~*~*~*~*~
Without hesitation Xander led Spike to his car and let him direct them to a small bar in a part of town they rarely frequented. Xander appreciated the choice. It meant that the girls would not find him should they decide to look. Unless Willow put the whammy on him with a locator spell, but he thought it would be unlikely once she spoke to Buffy.
The ‘Bear and Lion’ was not like anything Xander had seen before. A long heavy wooden bar stretched most of the way down one wall, the other walls were panelled in combinations of a dark wood or rough stone brickwork. Framed paintings depicting various sports lined the walls and the TV high up in the corner was showing a silent soccer match. It was fitted out with both tables and booths, an old pool table took up the space at the far end. Spike raised a hand in greeting to the bartender and led them towards seats at the back. Good choice. From here he would be able see the door, keep an eye out for anyone they were both trying to avoid, human or not, they had a reasonably private space and easy access to the pool table. Offering to buy the first round, Xander went back to the bar for drinks, a beer for himself, a double Jack for Spike. The air was thick with the smell of stale beer, cooking and a light fragrance of polished wood. It was a comforting place to be. They sat in companionable silence for a time, sipping drinks, watching a pool game, observing the crowd.
The bar held an eclectic mix, some humans, some demons; its tone far different to Willy’s though. That bar Xander was more familiar with and would never have dared enter without begin armed to the teeth, knowing it’s atmosphere was tense and violence often erupted without warning. This bar, straight away Xander could feel the difference. There was easy laughter and conversation and generally happy faces, well, Xander assumed they were happy, with some of the more ‘exotic’ ones; it was a little hard to tell. He felt himself relax more with each passing minute.
Spike noticed Xander beginning to unwind. He was fidgeting less, the strain was gone from his face and he sank more into his seat rather than sitting on the edge. Xander had one arm resting on the back of his own seat, one long leg crossed casually over the other, his foot tapping out the beat to a song only he could hear. He was idly casting his gaze over the other patrons in the bar, skipping from one face, and one table to the next until his eyes came to rest on Spike. This was the man Spike had seen arriving at the Magic Box earlier tonight, the one who was finally growing into himself. This was the Xander that had caught Spike’s eye so many weeks ago.
Xander smiled at him. “This is what I needed. Thanks.”
Spike tilted his glass towards Xander, nodding in acknowledgment. Yes it was. There was plenty of time for him to debrief later. For now, get him away from those girls, well one in particular. Let him find his feet, get a bit of perspective.
“This is a demon bar, how come we didn’t know about it before?” Xander would have assumed Buffy would be all over it. A place like this, he could imagine her blowing in, shaking down the demons.
“The owner,” he indicated the large, and slightly scaly, man behind the bar. “He’s a Joudel demon.” At Xander’s blank look, Spike explained further. “Joudels live mainly in the UK, mostly England, Ireland. They’re a peaceful lot, don’t go looking for trouble, but don’t tolerate it around them either. Thomas there, he came out here oh, about sixty years ago. Set up this place as a bit of a nod to home. His family owned a pub back there.”
“That explains the crazy décor and the soccer on TV.” Xander waved his hand indicating the mahogany fixtures and paintings of cricket matches.
“Football, mate. Joudels have some magic, usually just enough to set up protection, barriers and the like. Tom has a nice little spell on this place, mojoed it up to keep the slayer away. Bit like bug repellent. A bloke’s got to have a place to have a drink in peace and no one in here makes any trouble, they don’t want the slayer sticking her axe in where it don’t belong.” Spike downed the last of his drink.
“So he’s got a spell to stop the fights in here?” Xander asked.
“Nah, he’ll just rip your legs off and use them to beat you to a bloody pulp and not raise a sweat. Strong buggers these Joudels.”
“But I thought you said they were peaceful. I could be wrong, but legs, beating, pulp? None of that sounds peaceful to me. Just a thought.”
Spike shook his head. “You didn’t listen mate, I said they didn’t look for trouble, also said they wouldn’t put up with it. Fight-loving demons steer clear of this place. There’s plenty of others around if they want a bit of argy bargy and they have a better chance of walking out with their limbs where they like them.”
“You come here a lot then.” Xander assumed this from the respect he heard in Spike’s voice when he talked about Thomas.
“Not a lot, no. Just when I’m feeling a bit nostalgic.” At Xander’s smirk he rolled his eyes. “Yes, the pathetic but still evil vampire gets homesick once in a blue moon. Besides, the humans here don’t make trouble for me, same with the demons. None of them care what I do when I’m not here, who I kill. Actually helped Thomas out a time or two when trouble’s walked in. Cleared out the occasional nest around the area, all helps to keep the slayer away. Thomas appreciates that, slips me a bag of blood or a plate of his wife’s roast beef.”
“If it’s such a great place then why don’t you come here more often?”
“Just as easy for me to have a drink at home. No one goes out of their way to talk to a vampire, we aren’t known for our charm and wit. More for our bite and drain.”
Xander stopped his line of questioning to consider Spike. He didn’t really fit in anywhere. Not Willy’s obviously, not really the Magic Box, not even here at the Bear and Lion. It had surprised him to hear that Spike got homesick, although it shouldn’t be a shock. England was his home, sure he had travelled the world, well, torn through it more like, but England was where he had belonged to a family. At a point in Spike’s existence where his original family was dead, his vampiric family spread far and wide Spike was alone. And from what Xander knew about Spike from the watcher’s journals, this was not his preferred state of being. Vampires made themselves families, lived in nests. Alone and chipped, Spike was in limbo.
Xander felt for him. Certainly not pity, but sympathy. He couldn’t imagine being that isolated from friends and family. His own friends might be a little dismissive of him but they did actually care. And his family were far from the greatest, but they were nearby if Xander needed them. Not that he could think of why he would, but they were and it was good to know. He could understand why Spike was drawn to the Scoobies, he picked up on the family vibe, of course none of it was vibing at him but there was a place where he could be on the edge of belonging.
“Another drink?” Spike’s voice snapped Xander out of his musings. “My round.”
“Ah, yeah, sure.”
“Same again?” Spike indicated the empty beer glass on the table.
“No, just a Coke thanks.”
Xander saw Spike’s eyebrow twitch in question, and did he know how that looked? “One beer is plenty for me. I didn’t have the world’s best role model. More of a warning warning danger Will Robinson thing. It’s a conversation for another time.”
Spike just shrugged, “Whatever suits. Table’s free, how about you rack up a game while I buy?” He wandered off to the bar leaving Xander to set up the balls. Thomas greeted him with a smile and a hand shake.
“And here’s my door-bitch. What’ll it be?”
“Oi! I ain’t your door-bitch, I’m the unpaid muscle.” Spike flipped his favourite two fingers. “My usual and a coke for the boy.”
“What brings you round tonight?” Tom asked while he poured the drinks.
“The lad got in a bit of a row with his friend. Just helping him get his mind off things.”
“Course. How very unselfish of you oh evil master. And the goo-goo eyes you been makin’ at him when he’s not lookin’?”
“I do not make goo-goo eyes. I might have had a bit of a perve but so what? Look at him Tom.” Spike took a moment to appreciate Xander as he happily set up the pool table.
Tom chuckled, a low rumbling sound from deep in his solid chest. “I have been mate. And so’s that Hokard demon over there.” Tom pointed an empty glass at a smallish blue-tinged figure at a far table. The demon was nursing a large flamboyant cocktail and had its eyes glued to an oblivious Xander. “Something about your boy there Spike.”
“Yes there is.”
Tom placed the drinks on the bar, waving away Spike’s money and added, “You take care of him, now.”
“That’s my plan. Cheers for the drinks.” Spike kept an eye on the Hokard as he wound his way back to Xander.
At the pool table Spike found Xander in mid conversation with what appeared to be a young human man but was in fact, going by Spike’s senses, another demon. Spike felt a surge of anger and possessiveness and quickly tamped it down before Xander picked up on it. He was trying to give the boy an easygoing night out. Xander didn’t need to be dealing with Spike’s demon-driven issues.
“Oh, Spike, this is Bilarl, Bill. We just got to talking about the workmanship of this table. It’s really something,” Xander was running his hands admiringly along the worn wooden edges.
At Spike’s pointed look the demon excused himself and continued on to the bar. Spike handed Xander his coke and grabbed the pool cues.
Spike took the opening break and they each played a few shots, Xander chatting away about the construction of the table and the bar, basically all the wooden fixtures Spike had never given a second thought. It was good to see Xander loosening up. He had been wound fairly tight for a few weeks; it had resolved, but after a short breather he had been led almost to breaking point again this evening. Spike cursed the slayer for the unseeing bint she was. So caught up in herself and her ‘duties’ she didn’t see how her friend was turning into a damn fine man. She had him frozen in time, at that 16 year old she first met. Willow, he supposed, was just more naturally accommodating. She and Xander had apparently been friends almost their whole lives, almost like brother and sister, so in that case it was natural that you just accepted subtle changes as they came about. Giles has seen. He had overheard the watcher’s awkward praise and silently applauded him for it.
Spike heard Xander sink his ball and looked up as he walked around to Spike’s side of the table for his next shot. As he passed, Xander smiled and laid his hand briefly on Spike’s shoulder. Spike watched him lean over the side of the table, stretching himself for the shot. Couldn’t blame the other demons for eyeing him off; that was quite a sight, those well fitting clothes and muscular form. Xander fluffed his next shot, the ball ricocheting off the side pocket. He stepped back and waved Spike on for his turn. Spike looked the table over. Not many balls left to sink, all in awkward positions. Dropping his cue, Spike peeled off his duster and laid it carefully over a chair. Hoisting one leg up on the edge he easily potted his ball, knocking several others into decent positions at the same time.
Xander sat back on the edge of their table, sipping his coke and watching Spike take his shots. Spike sure was something to see. He liked his clothes snug and matt black, better to show of his sculpted body. And boy did that work for him. He had an easy grace and made all his movements look smoothly choreographed. Xander knew they weren’t. Well, he thought they weren’t, but did Spike need to flex quite like that to get to the ball? Did Xander care? Not if it meant watching this. He could see Spike was being slow and deliberate, as he sank the last of the balls, then straightened up to catch Xander’s unwavering, admiring gaze with a friendly smirk. Spike knew exactly what he was doing.
Spike knew he was not the most patient of vampires. He would much rather jump in with no forethought than wait and take time to consider the outcomes. But this felt different. This was more reminiscent of the chase. Targeting a human, hunting them down, letting them think they had escaped, pouncing. Drawing out that last moment until he could wait no longer. The blood was always that much sweeter after the chase. It was a delicious thrill, one he didn’t feel often because of the enormous amounts of self control it required. This felt similar. This was something he did not want to rush. The chase, the circling, the baiting and then the capture. He promised himself patience and control.
Xander waved his pool cue grinning at Spike, “Think you could stand another round?” Xander asked .
“Question is can you? You got what it takes?”
“That and more.”
Spike lazily looked him over, “Then rack ‘em up Harris”
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