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Entry tags:
Taming the Muse Prompt 30, BoaS Part 15, Shopping, BtVS, PG
I've not been around much, the last couple of weeks - RL and stuff. I haven't even finished reading all last week's posts yet, let alone all the posts on my flist, so I won't be voting this week. But I will read them all and I will comment when I do so. It will just be a tad late.
Title: Shopping
Part 15 of the Blood on a Sundial series. Previous parts, in reverse order, are here or in my memories.
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: #30 - Arrhizal - Destitute of a true root, as a parasitical plant. Rootless (which kind of sums up Spike at the moment). A parasitic plant without roots eg mistletoe
At:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tamingthemuse
Disclaimer: here.
Rating: Pg
Word Count: 3,000, as near as makes no odds.
15. Shopping
Another night, another city. Reno was... another city. Sometimes Spike got so tired of the mass of humanity. They were useful - cities - the way the food gathered together in convenient herds. There were always people on the fringe, ready to be picked off and never missed: the old, the sick, the outcast, or just the stragglers. But sometimes, the stink of them overwhelmed him and he yearned for the clean air of the mountains.
Once past Colfax, as the road lifted them higher, out of the smog of the valley, it was as if he could feel his spirit expanding. On impulse he turned to share his pleasure with the boy, but Xander wouldn't meet his eye, sitting slumped in the passenger seat, sulking. Well sod him. Spike would ignore him if he didn't want to play nice. He sat back and relaxed, one hand gently guiding the car around the shallow bends, the other elbow resting in the open window sill. Spike felt at peace with the world. The ache of Dru's absence was still there, but for the moment it was dulled - an almost familiar pain.
As the fresh air blew away the last remaining cobwebs from his brain, he found his thoughts following unfamiliar trails - examining his actions of the morning. There had been two empty bottles on the floor when he woke up this evening and he had vague memories of waxing lyrical, expounding on history and human and demon nature. He'd been expansive, and a bit maudlin, memories of Dru pouring out of him as fast as the alcohol poured in. But the boy had been an attentive audience, so he'd found himself relaxing as he talked. It had been... pleasant, somehow, to be able to speak freely, in front of someone who he didn't need to be wary of. When he woke up he'd felt much more cheerful, looking forward to another night of banter and snark. So what had gone wrong? What had changed? Come to think of it, Xander hadn't been very friendly at the beginning of the night either. He'd started awake immediately Spike got out of bed and hadn't been grateful for either the breakfast Spike had fetched for him from the diner across the road, or for the fact that Spike left him alone in the bathroom to wash and freshen up. Spike considered that - it wasn't like Xander didn't know he couldn't escape. He must have seen, when they arrived, that the bathroom had no window. So he couldn't have been sulking over some thwarted escape attempt. But for some reason he'd dragged himself around the room, yawning and mumbling discontentedly, as if the world was against him, until Spike began to wonder why the hell he kept him alive. But he'd got in the car, when told to, and not even protested the ropes, like he was half asleep.
It was inconvenient having to keep him tied up, but that was something that would soon be taken care of. At least this stage of the journey was only a couple of hours. And after tonight, things would get easier, Spike was sure. Somehow it was unnerving, having him sit there, a silent, brooding lump. "What's eating you, mate? Come on, not used to you being quiet."
Xander turned his head and gazed at Spike, an expression of pained disbelief on his face. "I'm tired, Spike. I didn't sleep."
"Huh! Why not? I didn't tie you up so tight. You should have been comfortable enough."
"Comfortable?" Xander's voice rose to a screech. "Comfortable? I was tied to a chair and sharing a room with a bloodsucking demon who had just told me I was nothing more than a convenient snack. How the hell was I supposed to be comfortable? How the fuck was I supposed to sleep?"
Spike laughed. "Language, pet. Should be ashamed of yourself." He thought about what Xander had said. "So the reason you're sulking now, is because you're tired?"
"I'm not sulking." If that wasn't a sulky voice, it was certainly weary. "I'm just tired."
Spike pulled the car over to the hard shoulder. "Hang on." He reached round to the back seat and dragged another rug out from the pile of gear stacked there. Shuffling across to Xander, he spread it across the boy's legs and up to his shoulders, tucking the edges snugly around his neck. "There," he proclaimed. "Humans lose body heat when they sleep. You'll be okay now." Settling back behind the wheel, he started the engine again. "Get some rest, and maybe you'll be better company when you wake up." He didn't miss the disbelieving stare, but Xander did close his eyes and relax his body. Spike monitored his breathing as he drove and after a mile or so it slowed into the rhythm of deep sleep.
It was almost a relief to reach Reno. For some reason the silent presence beside him had left Spike feeling more alone than if he really had been. The boy hadn't made a sound for the last hour, not a snore, not a snort, not a whimper. It was oppressive.
The highway split the town in two and Spike followed it right to the centre before turning off into the side streets. It had been a few years since he was last in these parts, but it appeared the places where the deals were done remained the same. Uppers, downers and everything else besides, were easy come by - just a matter of pulling up in the right place and handing the cash through the window. Spike glanced across at Xander as he stirred back to life. He was looking a bit better. "Want something to eat, mate?"
Xander blinked his eyes, clearing them of sleep. "Please."
A quick stop at yet another burger bar, a careful scattering of chemicals across the meat as he walked back to the car and sit back and watch the boy eat. He was out of it within ten minutes. He'd be fast asleep for at least three hours. Might do him some good. Spike smiled at himself, well aware of the irony of drugging the boy back into oblivion, after he'd spent the past hour wanting him awake and talking.
Parking the car in a properly guarded lot, Spike left it there while he went to find the current location of Old Man Black Wind's shop. That entailed visits to some of the seedier casinos and short sharp interviews with likely looking residents, but after a couple of hours he got the information he was looking for, as well as a few thou in winnings and takings.
Xander was still asleep when he returned and he briefly considered waiting until the next night. But if the boy wasn't sulking about being tied up before, he would once he was more himself again and rousing him now, so that he could regain a small amount of freedom, was worth the trouble.
Spike drove carefully through the narrow backstreets and alleys until he felt the shift in the air that told him he was close. He pulled up and got out, untying the ropes and releasing the belt, before giving Xander a gentle slap on the cheek to wake him.
"Ghuh," Xander groaned, peering up at Spike through half open eyes. "What? Uh... Water?" he croaked.
Spike should his head. "Sorry mate. Didn't think of it. Get you some inside, okay?" He hauled the boy out of the car and to his feet. Xander staggered forwards, unsteady and still dopey from the effects of the drug. "Now then. Listen. You gonna cooperate?" Spike asked, holding him steady by his shoulders. He gave him a little shake. "I won't tie you up, if you promise to be good." He let go of Xander's shoulders and he didn't fall over. "Give me your hand and we'll just walk along, friendly as you please. Come on, pet, this way." Taking the boy's hand in a strong grasp, he led him carefully along the alley until they reached the place where the air seemed a little thicker. Spike reached his other hand out and gave a little shove, and they were there.
The room was big and bright, some source-less light, with the spectrum of fluorescents, illuminating every corner. Spike winced at the sudden change. The walls were lined with glass fronted, steel and chrome cabinets, all full of jars, bottles and boxes. The place had a clean, almost clinical look, which belied the nature of the merchandise. Xander gazed round dumbly, probably not taking it in properly, although he must have registered the barrier they had just passed through. Spike's attention was immediately fixed on the figure of the man behind the counter opposite them. He was small and slim, dressed in a neat checked shirt and looked all of twenty five. His hair was short and dark and neatly combed and with his thick rimmed glasses, he projected an air of geeky harmlessness. Except, Spike knew for a fact that he'd looked exactly the same thirty years ago and probably still would in thirty years time. Dragging Xander behind him, Spike walked up to the counter and nodded. "Black Wind," he greeted.
Old Man Black Wind smiled. "Spike. Long time, no see. What can I do for you today?"
Spike raised a questioning eyebrow. "Straight to business, eh? What you so nervous about?" Black Wind said nothing, just smiling in a counterfeit of embarrassed friendliness. Spike snorted with faint amusement at the act. "Okay. We'll be quick. That suits me fine." He indicated Xander, with a shrug. "Need a cuff for this one." Pulling Xander over, he wrapped an arm around his shoulders to hold him still. "Two things: don't want him running away, and I don't want him trying to kill me. Can you do that?"
The old man looked at Xander thoughtfully, his fingers stroking lightly along the edge of the counter in front of him. "Hmmm. For a price, yes." He looked back at Spike and his eyes were sharp and piercing. "Wait there." He edged along to another section of the counter and pulled open a drawer, lifting out a shallow tray. Carrying it carefully, he returned to where Spike stood and placed it on the counter in front of him. He caught Spike's smirk and grinned back as he removed the sprigs of mistletoe and holly, exposing the contents underneath. "For protection," he explained. "Holly protects against lightning and evil spirits, and mistletoe is good for virility. Not quite in keeping with the décor, I'll admit, but style is only style - magic is business."
In the bottom of the tray, on a bed of black velvet, were a series of curved lengths of different materials, looking like nothing so much as drawer handles on display in a hardware store. There was silver and onyx, copper and turquoise, mother-of-pearl, peridot and amethyst, among others, all perfectly circular in cross-section and paired with an identical twin. Black Wind reached into another drawer and pulled out a pair of callipers. "Let me see his left wrist," he instructed. Spike lifted Xander's arm and laid it on the counter. Xander stood unresisting and Spike wondered if that was still the drug in his system, or if the old man had done something to keep him docile. Black Wind carefully measured the dimensions of Xander's wrist, then ran his fingers thoughtfully down the edge of the tray, stopping next to a pair of Jade crescents. Holding the callipers above them he compared their dimensions. Satisfied he nodded. "Jade," he said. "That's what you need. What range do you want? And do you want him incapacitated, or hurting?"
Spike hesitated as he thought about it. "Incapacitated would mean, frozen?" he hazarded. Black Wind nodded. "Hmm, could be dangerous if he suddenly froze solid. Make him easy to pick up, but make him an easy target for other things too. Those my only choices?"
"Those are the standards. Cost you three thousand. But if you throw in two promised favours, I can make it so he just feels really uncomfortable. A sort of compulsion. He'll feel worse and worse, until he turns around." He shrugged and grinned. "And as soon as he does... he'll feel better." Reading Spike's face, he nodded. "Range, one hundred yards?"
"Hang on! Two promises? That's a bit steep." Spike smirked. "But I'll give them to you... so long as they're things I'd do anyway. Nothing against my nature or my interests. Deal?" Black Wind's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "'Cause I don't really care if he's hurting." Spike added, his smirk broadening.
Black Wind's mouth tightened in annoyance, but he nodded his agreement to the deal. Removing a silk handkerchief from his shirt pocket he carefully picked up the two pieces of stone. "Raise his hand," he instructed. "And be quick. I'm expecting visitors." Spike did as he was told and Black Wind brought the two bits of jade together, so that the ends matched up, creating an oval bangle that encircled Xander's wrist. He began to mutter under his breath as he wrapped the handkerchief around the stones. After a moment he pulled away, allowing the handkerchief to drop. The jade was now a single oval and Xander had a bracelet. Black Wind's forehead wore a faint sheen of sweat, which he wiped away with his left hand. He dragged a pad of paper over as Spike placed three thousand dollars on the counter. Laying his left hand, palm down, on the pad, Black Wind muttered a few more words, then he tore the page free and folded it. He picked up the money and shoved it in the front pocket of his jeans, without counting it, and handed the paper to Spike. "Here's the instructions," he said. "Nice doing business with you. Now go. Please?"
Spike took the paper. "Good to see you again, old man." He nodded towards Xander. "How long before this wears off?"
"An hour or so. Close the door behind you, yeah?"
"Cheers, mate. If it doesn't work..."
"It'll work. You know my stuff always lives up to the label. Now, go."
Taking Xander's hand again, Spike turned and walked towards the blank wall at the back of the shop. Reaching it, he gave a push and stepped forward. Then they were in the alley. The car was parked fifteen yards away.
*****
One motel was much like another. Spike had used his hour to find them both something to eat, leaving Xander in the car while he did so. Then he had found them a place for the day.
This room had two beds and Xander was already ensconced in one of them, consuming his picnic supper, becoming more and more his usual self with each bite. Spike sat back against the headboard of the other and read through the instructions. "It works on intention," he said.
Xander looked across at him, over the top of the apple he had just raised to his mouth, his eyes big and questioning.
"Your new bit of jewellery, pet. It works on intention. Means that although you can hurt me, kill me, by accident, you can't do it intentionally."
Xander looked down at his wrist. He took a bite from the apple and put the rest down carefully on an empty paper bag. Taking hold of the bracelet, he tried pulling it, but it was too small to pass over his hand. He frowned, belatedly remembering to chew, before swallowing to speak. "That place was real then? We really were in some weird white shop, or clinic, or something? With the guy with the huge eyes? I thought that was a crazy dream." He swallowed again, nervously. "What have you done to me?"
"Ain't done nothing. Well, nothing much. Just bought you a pretty, for my pretty." Spike grinned at Xander's expression of disgust. "It's magic, pet. Magical hand cuffs, remember? Stops you running away. Says here, if you try, you'll feel nauseous. Then if you keep trying, you'll feel so uncomfortable, you won't know which way is up. But as soon as you turn around and start coming back to me, you'll feel better." He raised his eyes from the paper to look at Xander, who was glaring at him. "Hey! I paid extra to get you that. Could have been a cheapskate and gone with agonising pain, or something that made you freeze on the spot. Should be grateful."
"Grateful," Xander gritted out, between clenched teeth. "Grateful, to be tied up more effectively than I have been for the last two days? Grateful that you went for the padded cuffs?" His voice rose angrily. "They're still cuffs, Spike!"
"Calm down, pet. You've got a range of a hundred yards. And no penalty if you get outside that, by accident - you'll be okay, as long as you're attempting to come back." He folded the paper and put it safely away in his pocket. "See? Could be worse." He glanced at Xander and his voice hardened. "Don't!" he ordered as Xander picked up the apple and raised it, as if to throw it at Spike. "'Cause you can't hurt me, but I, sure as hell, can hurt you. And if you misbehave, I'll not have a qualm about turning you over my knee, like the naughty child you are." The apple crashed into the wall on the far side of the room. Spike grinned. "Done with your tantrum now? Good. So go to sleep. We've still got a ways to go and I want to be on the road at sunset. Get out of this town, before that old bastard decides to call in any favours." He leaned forwards and unlaced his boots, kicking them to the floor, then he crawled under the covers and rolled over. He was asleep within minutes, in spite of the weight of Xander's glare on the back of his neck.
Next Part
Title: Shopping
Part 15 of the Blood on a Sundial series. Previous parts, in reverse order, are here or in my memories.
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: #30 - Arrhizal - Destitute of a true root, as a parasitical plant. Rootless (which kind of sums up Spike at the moment). A parasitic plant without roots eg mistletoe
At:
tamingthemuseDisclaimer: here.
Rating: Pg
Word Count: 3,000, as near as makes no odds.
15. Shopping
Another night, another city. Reno was... another city. Sometimes Spike got so tired of the mass of humanity. They were useful - cities - the way the food gathered together in convenient herds. There were always people on the fringe, ready to be picked off and never missed: the old, the sick, the outcast, or just the stragglers. But sometimes, the stink of them overwhelmed him and he yearned for the clean air of the mountains.
Once past Colfax, as the road lifted them higher, out of the smog of the valley, it was as if he could feel his spirit expanding. On impulse he turned to share his pleasure with the boy, but Xander wouldn't meet his eye, sitting slumped in the passenger seat, sulking. Well sod him. Spike would ignore him if he didn't want to play nice. He sat back and relaxed, one hand gently guiding the car around the shallow bends, the other elbow resting in the open window sill. Spike felt at peace with the world. The ache of Dru's absence was still there, but for the moment it was dulled - an almost familiar pain.
As the fresh air blew away the last remaining cobwebs from his brain, he found his thoughts following unfamiliar trails - examining his actions of the morning. There had been two empty bottles on the floor when he woke up this evening and he had vague memories of waxing lyrical, expounding on history and human and demon nature. He'd been expansive, and a bit maudlin, memories of Dru pouring out of him as fast as the alcohol poured in. But the boy had been an attentive audience, so he'd found himself relaxing as he talked. It had been... pleasant, somehow, to be able to speak freely, in front of someone who he didn't need to be wary of. When he woke up he'd felt much more cheerful, looking forward to another night of banter and snark. So what had gone wrong? What had changed? Come to think of it, Xander hadn't been very friendly at the beginning of the night either. He'd started awake immediately Spike got out of bed and hadn't been grateful for either the breakfast Spike had fetched for him from the diner across the road, or for the fact that Spike left him alone in the bathroom to wash and freshen up. Spike considered that - it wasn't like Xander didn't know he couldn't escape. He must have seen, when they arrived, that the bathroom had no window. So he couldn't have been sulking over some thwarted escape attempt. But for some reason he'd dragged himself around the room, yawning and mumbling discontentedly, as if the world was against him, until Spike began to wonder why the hell he kept him alive. But he'd got in the car, when told to, and not even protested the ropes, like he was half asleep.
It was inconvenient having to keep him tied up, but that was something that would soon be taken care of. At least this stage of the journey was only a couple of hours. And after tonight, things would get easier, Spike was sure. Somehow it was unnerving, having him sit there, a silent, brooding lump. "What's eating you, mate? Come on, not used to you being quiet."
Xander turned his head and gazed at Spike, an expression of pained disbelief on his face. "I'm tired, Spike. I didn't sleep."
"Huh! Why not? I didn't tie you up so tight. You should have been comfortable enough."
"Comfortable?" Xander's voice rose to a screech. "Comfortable? I was tied to a chair and sharing a room with a bloodsucking demon who had just told me I was nothing more than a convenient snack. How the hell was I supposed to be comfortable? How the fuck was I supposed to sleep?"
Spike laughed. "Language, pet. Should be ashamed of yourself." He thought about what Xander had said. "So the reason you're sulking now, is because you're tired?"
"I'm not sulking." If that wasn't a sulky voice, it was certainly weary. "I'm just tired."
Spike pulled the car over to the hard shoulder. "Hang on." He reached round to the back seat and dragged another rug out from the pile of gear stacked there. Shuffling across to Xander, he spread it across the boy's legs and up to his shoulders, tucking the edges snugly around his neck. "There," he proclaimed. "Humans lose body heat when they sleep. You'll be okay now." Settling back behind the wheel, he started the engine again. "Get some rest, and maybe you'll be better company when you wake up." He didn't miss the disbelieving stare, but Xander did close his eyes and relax his body. Spike monitored his breathing as he drove and after a mile or so it slowed into the rhythm of deep sleep.
It was almost a relief to reach Reno. For some reason the silent presence beside him had left Spike feeling more alone than if he really had been. The boy hadn't made a sound for the last hour, not a snore, not a snort, not a whimper. It was oppressive.
The highway split the town in two and Spike followed it right to the centre before turning off into the side streets. It had been a few years since he was last in these parts, but it appeared the places where the deals were done remained the same. Uppers, downers and everything else besides, were easy come by - just a matter of pulling up in the right place and handing the cash through the window. Spike glanced across at Xander as he stirred back to life. He was looking a bit better. "Want something to eat, mate?"
Xander blinked his eyes, clearing them of sleep. "Please."
A quick stop at yet another burger bar, a careful scattering of chemicals across the meat as he walked back to the car and sit back and watch the boy eat. He was out of it within ten minutes. He'd be fast asleep for at least three hours. Might do him some good. Spike smiled at himself, well aware of the irony of drugging the boy back into oblivion, after he'd spent the past hour wanting him awake and talking.
Parking the car in a properly guarded lot, Spike left it there while he went to find the current location of Old Man Black Wind's shop. That entailed visits to some of the seedier casinos and short sharp interviews with likely looking residents, but after a couple of hours he got the information he was looking for, as well as a few thou in winnings and takings.
Xander was still asleep when he returned and he briefly considered waiting until the next night. But if the boy wasn't sulking about being tied up before, he would once he was more himself again and rousing him now, so that he could regain a small amount of freedom, was worth the trouble.
Spike drove carefully through the narrow backstreets and alleys until he felt the shift in the air that told him he was close. He pulled up and got out, untying the ropes and releasing the belt, before giving Xander a gentle slap on the cheek to wake him.
"Ghuh," Xander groaned, peering up at Spike through half open eyes. "What? Uh... Water?" he croaked.
Spike should his head. "Sorry mate. Didn't think of it. Get you some inside, okay?" He hauled the boy out of the car and to his feet. Xander staggered forwards, unsteady and still dopey from the effects of the drug. "Now then. Listen. You gonna cooperate?" Spike asked, holding him steady by his shoulders. He gave him a little shake. "I won't tie you up, if you promise to be good." He let go of Xander's shoulders and he didn't fall over. "Give me your hand and we'll just walk along, friendly as you please. Come on, pet, this way." Taking the boy's hand in a strong grasp, he led him carefully along the alley until they reached the place where the air seemed a little thicker. Spike reached his other hand out and gave a little shove, and they were there.
The room was big and bright, some source-less light, with the spectrum of fluorescents, illuminating every corner. Spike winced at the sudden change. The walls were lined with glass fronted, steel and chrome cabinets, all full of jars, bottles and boxes. The place had a clean, almost clinical look, which belied the nature of the merchandise. Xander gazed round dumbly, probably not taking it in properly, although he must have registered the barrier they had just passed through. Spike's attention was immediately fixed on the figure of the man behind the counter opposite them. He was small and slim, dressed in a neat checked shirt and looked all of twenty five. His hair was short and dark and neatly combed and with his thick rimmed glasses, he projected an air of geeky harmlessness. Except, Spike knew for a fact that he'd looked exactly the same thirty years ago and probably still would in thirty years time. Dragging Xander behind him, Spike walked up to the counter and nodded. "Black Wind," he greeted.
Old Man Black Wind smiled. "Spike. Long time, no see. What can I do for you today?"
Spike raised a questioning eyebrow. "Straight to business, eh? What you so nervous about?" Black Wind said nothing, just smiling in a counterfeit of embarrassed friendliness. Spike snorted with faint amusement at the act. "Okay. We'll be quick. That suits me fine." He indicated Xander, with a shrug. "Need a cuff for this one." Pulling Xander over, he wrapped an arm around his shoulders to hold him still. "Two things: don't want him running away, and I don't want him trying to kill me. Can you do that?"
The old man looked at Xander thoughtfully, his fingers stroking lightly along the edge of the counter in front of him. "Hmmm. For a price, yes." He looked back at Spike and his eyes were sharp and piercing. "Wait there." He edged along to another section of the counter and pulled open a drawer, lifting out a shallow tray. Carrying it carefully, he returned to where Spike stood and placed it on the counter in front of him. He caught Spike's smirk and grinned back as he removed the sprigs of mistletoe and holly, exposing the contents underneath. "For protection," he explained. "Holly protects against lightning and evil spirits, and mistletoe is good for virility. Not quite in keeping with the décor, I'll admit, but style is only style - magic is business."
In the bottom of the tray, on a bed of black velvet, were a series of curved lengths of different materials, looking like nothing so much as drawer handles on display in a hardware store. There was silver and onyx, copper and turquoise, mother-of-pearl, peridot and amethyst, among others, all perfectly circular in cross-section and paired with an identical twin. Black Wind reached into another drawer and pulled out a pair of callipers. "Let me see his left wrist," he instructed. Spike lifted Xander's arm and laid it on the counter. Xander stood unresisting and Spike wondered if that was still the drug in his system, or if the old man had done something to keep him docile. Black Wind carefully measured the dimensions of Xander's wrist, then ran his fingers thoughtfully down the edge of the tray, stopping next to a pair of Jade crescents. Holding the callipers above them he compared their dimensions. Satisfied he nodded. "Jade," he said. "That's what you need. What range do you want? And do you want him incapacitated, or hurting?"
Spike hesitated as he thought about it. "Incapacitated would mean, frozen?" he hazarded. Black Wind nodded. "Hmm, could be dangerous if he suddenly froze solid. Make him easy to pick up, but make him an easy target for other things too. Those my only choices?"
"Those are the standards. Cost you three thousand. But if you throw in two promised favours, I can make it so he just feels really uncomfortable. A sort of compulsion. He'll feel worse and worse, until he turns around." He shrugged and grinned. "And as soon as he does... he'll feel better." Reading Spike's face, he nodded. "Range, one hundred yards?"
"Hang on! Two promises? That's a bit steep." Spike smirked. "But I'll give them to you... so long as they're things I'd do anyway. Nothing against my nature or my interests. Deal?" Black Wind's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "'Cause I don't really care if he's hurting." Spike added, his smirk broadening.
Black Wind's mouth tightened in annoyance, but he nodded his agreement to the deal. Removing a silk handkerchief from his shirt pocket he carefully picked up the two pieces of stone. "Raise his hand," he instructed. "And be quick. I'm expecting visitors." Spike did as he was told and Black Wind brought the two bits of jade together, so that the ends matched up, creating an oval bangle that encircled Xander's wrist. He began to mutter under his breath as he wrapped the handkerchief around the stones. After a moment he pulled away, allowing the handkerchief to drop. The jade was now a single oval and Xander had a bracelet. Black Wind's forehead wore a faint sheen of sweat, which he wiped away with his left hand. He dragged a pad of paper over as Spike placed three thousand dollars on the counter. Laying his left hand, palm down, on the pad, Black Wind muttered a few more words, then he tore the page free and folded it. He picked up the money and shoved it in the front pocket of his jeans, without counting it, and handed the paper to Spike. "Here's the instructions," he said. "Nice doing business with you. Now go. Please?"
Spike took the paper. "Good to see you again, old man." He nodded towards Xander. "How long before this wears off?"
"An hour or so. Close the door behind you, yeah?"
"Cheers, mate. If it doesn't work..."
"It'll work. You know my stuff always lives up to the label. Now, go."
Taking Xander's hand again, Spike turned and walked towards the blank wall at the back of the shop. Reaching it, he gave a push and stepped forward. Then they were in the alley. The car was parked fifteen yards away.
*****
One motel was much like another. Spike had used his hour to find them both something to eat, leaving Xander in the car while he did so. Then he had found them a place for the day.
This room had two beds and Xander was already ensconced in one of them, consuming his picnic supper, becoming more and more his usual self with each bite. Spike sat back against the headboard of the other and read through the instructions. "It works on intention," he said.
Xander looked across at him, over the top of the apple he had just raised to his mouth, his eyes big and questioning.
"Your new bit of jewellery, pet. It works on intention. Means that although you can hurt me, kill me, by accident, you can't do it intentionally."
Xander looked down at his wrist. He took a bite from the apple and put the rest down carefully on an empty paper bag. Taking hold of the bracelet, he tried pulling it, but it was too small to pass over his hand. He frowned, belatedly remembering to chew, before swallowing to speak. "That place was real then? We really were in some weird white shop, or clinic, or something? With the guy with the huge eyes? I thought that was a crazy dream." He swallowed again, nervously. "What have you done to me?"
"Ain't done nothing. Well, nothing much. Just bought you a pretty, for my pretty." Spike grinned at Xander's expression of disgust. "It's magic, pet. Magical hand cuffs, remember? Stops you running away. Says here, if you try, you'll feel nauseous. Then if you keep trying, you'll feel so uncomfortable, you won't know which way is up. But as soon as you turn around and start coming back to me, you'll feel better." He raised his eyes from the paper to look at Xander, who was glaring at him. "Hey! I paid extra to get you that. Could have been a cheapskate and gone with agonising pain, or something that made you freeze on the spot. Should be grateful."
"Grateful," Xander gritted out, between clenched teeth. "Grateful, to be tied up more effectively than I have been for the last two days? Grateful that you went for the padded cuffs?" His voice rose angrily. "They're still cuffs, Spike!"
"Calm down, pet. You've got a range of a hundred yards. And no penalty if you get outside that, by accident - you'll be okay, as long as you're attempting to come back." He folded the paper and put it safely away in his pocket. "See? Could be worse." He glanced at Xander and his voice hardened. "Don't!" he ordered as Xander picked up the apple and raised it, as if to throw it at Spike. "'Cause you can't hurt me, but I, sure as hell, can hurt you. And if you misbehave, I'll not have a qualm about turning you over my knee, like the naughty child you are." The apple crashed into the wall on the far side of the room. Spike grinned. "Done with your tantrum now? Good. So go to sleep. We've still got a ways to go and I want to be on the road at sunset. Get out of this town, before that old bastard decides to call in any favours." He leaned forwards and unlaced his boots, kicking them to the floor, then he crawled under the covers and rolled over. He was asleep within minutes, in spite of the weight of Xander's glare on the back of his neck.
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