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thismazI'm not feeling too well today, so I hope this has come out coherent. *grin*
Title: Make and mend
Part 17 of the Blood on a Sundial series. Previous parts, in reverse order, are here or in my memories.
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: #32 - Ankara
At:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tamingthemuse
Disclaimer: here.
Rating: Pg
Word Count: 1,890
17. Make and mend
Spike nudged Xander with his foot. "Hey, time to get up." Xander didn't react. He nudged him harder. "Come on. Up you get. This guard dog at the door impression is all very well, but it's time to get up and get moving."
Xander turned his head and opened one bleary eye. "Woof," he whispered, half-heartedly, before pulling the blanket over his head.
Spike reached down and grabbed the corner, dragging it away. "Go get a shower. I'm going to find us some food."
That woke the boy up. He sat up suddenly. "But... but, you can't." Spike raised an eyebrow, questioningly. "A hundred yards," he stuttered. "I'll have to go with you." He paused, as if finally facing an unpleasant truth. "Oh God, I'm stuck with you, aren't I?"
Spike smiled. "Don't worry mate. Won't be a problem. You're not trying to leave. It works on intention, remember? I can leave. You can't. Got it? Now go shower. I won't be long." And he stepped over Xander's legs and walked away along the porch, towards the town. He was aware of Xander's eyes following him, but when he got to the office and looked back, the boy had already disappeared.
In fact he was an hour, or more. It felt so good to be out on his feet, instead of endlessly sitting in the car. He started to run and then kept going, for the sheer joy of it. Finding himself a good meal was not a problem, a homeless guy on a park bench, and there where more than enough shops open to provide a suitably healthy meal for a human. It had been a long time since Spike had needed to eat human food, and it had changed. It was interesting, actually looking at the variety on the shelves, reading some of the labels and picking through the fruit, savouring the fresh, green smells. He took his time.
*****
Grocery bag in hand, Spike strode back towards the room, feeling light and carefree. It wouldn't last, but for now it felt good. He'd almost reached the car and was already reviewing the best route out of town, when Xander's head popped into view above the roof. Spike took the last three steps slowly and carefully placed the bag down on the lid of the boot, as he peered around the far side of the car. His possessions were spread across the tarmac and he stood for a moment, rooted to the spot with surprise.
Xander reached back inside the open rear door and hauled a small wooden box off the seat, placing it carefully on the ground. He looked up at Spike and grinned. "Don't worry, I'll put it all back. I'm just trying to make some space."
"Some space?"
"Yeah, for my stuff. I need some clothes, Spike. I've been wearing these for three days. I've been thinking - like most of the day and in the shower, just now, and I figure, if I'm stuck with you, and you're not going to kill me, you'd better buy me some clothes." He looked up at Spike and his voice took on the tones of exaggerated concern. "Unless you like sharing a car with a stinky human?" Reading the answer to that in Spike's face, he nodded. "Didn't think so." He clambered back into the car and busied himself with rearranging the stuff piled there. Spike leant back against the rear wing, dug his fags out of his pocket and settled back to watch Xander work, and to make sure his own possessions were all safely returned to their places.
By the time Xander had finished, all the gear was stored away again, leaving a patch of seat about eighteen inches wide, still empty. Xander stood back and admired it. "My wardrobe," he said, proudly. "I can't do anything about leaving, so I'm going to have to make the best of things. Right?"
"Er, yeah, sure, mate," Spike mumbled around his fag. "The best of things." He felt adrift in the face of this new creature. This wasn't the defeated boy of the morning, nor the sulky one of the night before. What the fuck had happened while he slept?
Xander nodded briskly. "Okay then. Is that mine?" He gestured towards the grocery bag. Spike nodded. "Good, I'm starved. What did you get me?" He grabbed the bag, sat down on the porch step and started pulling things out of it. The plastic wrapped sandwich stayed out, as did the carton of milk and one of the apples. The rest of the apples, the grapes, sliced meat, bottle of orange juice and the bread rolls, went back. He looked up. "Thanks. I'll come with you next time. Guess they didn't have proper junk food when you were alive, eh?"
This was very strange. "Aren't you even a bit afraid?" Spike asked.
Xander paused in unwrapping the sandwich and glanced up. "Totally terrified," he agreed, seriously. "But since I can't do anything about where I am, I've decided I need to take control of what I can. Way I see it, this is good for both of us - I get to be clean and you get to have an unsmelly co-driver."
In the face of the inexplicable, Spike latched on to the last word. "Co-driver?" he asked, dubiously.
"Sure. Why not?" Xander paused, as if he expected an answer to that one, but Spike could think of so many reasons, he couldn't pick one out of the mass. Giving up with a shrug, Xander continued, "So, mall? shops? clothes? We're all packed. We can go now, if you like."
*****
The parking lot was fairly empty, which Spike took to be a good sign. He parked near the main doors and sat back, hands braced on the wheel. Xander looked at him. "You have to come with me," he said. "I can't walk away from you, remember."
Spike sighed and hauled himself out of the car. With a shake of his head, he watched Xander march ahead, as he trailed him towards the shops.
Xander headed straight for some cheap chain store, Payless or Target, or something. Spike caught up with him and herded him away, to a store which looked more like one he would be seen dead in.
Jeans were easy. Spike noted the size Xander was looking at, walked over to the shelf of Wranglers and picked up a pair, thrusting them into Xander's arms. Shirts were more difficult. Xander headed to the generic T-shirts, with their glaring bright colours, but no way was Spike associating with Xander in orange. He grabbed hold of the boy by the scruff of the neck and steered him away from the piles of cheap clothes in sealed plastic bags, to an area where the shirts hung on hangers. With a quick glance, to assess Xander's size, he picked up navy blue, black, forest green, maroon and grey and added those to the pile in Xander's arms.
Xander gazed at him, open mouthed. "Hey, man, what are you doing?"
"Buying you some proper shirts, in proper colours, which don't make you look like a neon display."
"But I like those colours, is not just that they're cheap." Spike just looked at him, sceptically. "Colours are expressive."
"Yeah, pet, expressive of God-awful bad taste." He scowled at Xander and stomped off to find a couple of long sleeved shirts.
Xander glared at him. "Those are so conventional. I'm seventeen, I'm supposed to explore possibilities."
"Well I'm 120, and I know better." He dumped the shirts on the pile. "Socks and knickers," he said, pointing. "Go."
Back at the car Xander deposited his new purchasers lovingly in his space on the backseat. He shoved his hands in pockets of his new jeans, hunched his shoulders in his new leather jacket, and looked up at Spike shyly. "Thanks," he mumbled.
"Just get in the car, whelp. I need to get out of here."
*****
As they pulled on to the I-80, Xander leant back in his seat and turned to Spike with a grin. "That was fun. I got more new clothes in half an hour than I did in the last year. You," he added, with emphasis, "are a man who knows how to shop. You'd put Buffy to shame." He sighed with satisfaction. "I feel like we're bonding. This could be the start of a beautiful friendship."
Spike smirked. "Do you, pet?"
"But I'm not going to turn nocturnal, okay? So next place we stop, I want to be close to the restaurant. Will you give me some money?" Spike said nothing, but Xander didn't seem discouraged. "The way I see it, if I'm stuck with you, I'm going to have to make the best of it. Then, I figure, I hang around and wait for someone to kill you, since I can't do it myself."
Spike raised an eyebrow. "Going to be waiting a long time then. Hundred and twenty years and two slayers have tried that and I'm still walking."
Xander looked thoughtful. "Two slayers? Hmm, I think I remember Giles saying something about that once. Something about China? When was that?"
"1900, there abouts. Boxer Rebellion was in full swing. Blood and fire in the streets. Dead missionaries all over the place. Took her out in a temple."
"Why were you in China?"
"Don't know. Just went where Darla's whim took us. Took us to China."
"What about after that?"
Spike shrugged. "Back to Europe, through British India, Persia, Turkey, Greece, back to Germany, eventually. Then we went to Paris for a while. What is this, twenty bloody questions?"
"British India?" Xander sounded honestly puzzled. "Is there more than one?"
"Sure, they've got them all over." Spike glared at the boy. "What do you think?" Xander was doing a parody of polite interest. Spike sighed. Again. "You know? The Raj? Sun never set on the British Empire and all that rot?"
Xander frowned. "But it did set. It's gone. The US is the new power in the world."
"Not how it worked. They meant literally. Think about it, Canada, the UK, good bits of African, India, Australia and a fair smattering of Pacific Islands - there was always somewhere in the British Empire with the sun in the sky."
"Have you been to all those places?" Xander asked, apparently diverted by this new thought.
Spike raised an eyebrow. Again. "Lot of them."
"So after India...?"
"By sea to Persia, as it was then, then overland." At Xander's interrogatory grunt, he explained. "Don't want to spend too long at sea, pet - food's limited." He thought back to that long journey, only months after Angelus left for the second time, and remembered Dru's savagery, whenever he let her out of his sight. "Shirraz was beautiful in those days. Dru loved the Middle East, better than Asia. We went through Palestine to Turkey - Adana to Ankara to Istanbul. That was all the Ottoman Empire in those days, of course."
"The Ottoman Empire?"
"Don't they teach you anything? You know sultans, harems and eunuchs."
"You're kidding?" He sounded awed. "You mean like the Arabian nights?"
"So you have read some literature, then?" Spike observed.
Xander grinned, self-deprecatingly. "Well, I saw a movie."
Spike laughed back. "Tell you what pet, once we get to New York, I'm going to teach you to read."
Next Part
Title: Make and mend
Part 17 of the Blood on a Sundial series. Previous parts, in reverse order, are here or in my memories.
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: #32 - Ankara
At:
tamingthemuseDisclaimer: here.
Rating: Pg
Word Count: 1,890
17. Make and mend
Spike nudged Xander with his foot. "Hey, time to get up." Xander didn't react. He nudged him harder. "Come on. Up you get. This guard dog at the door impression is all very well, but it's time to get up and get moving."
Xander turned his head and opened one bleary eye. "Woof," he whispered, half-heartedly, before pulling the blanket over his head.
Spike reached down and grabbed the corner, dragging it away. "Go get a shower. I'm going to find us some food."
That woke the boy up. He sat up suddenly. "But... but, you can't." Spike raised an eyebrow, questioningly. "A hundred yards," he stuttered. "I'll have to go with you." He paused, as if finally facing an unpleasant truth. "Oh God, I'm stuck with you, aren't I?"
Spike smiled. "Don't worry mate. Won't be a problem. You're not trying to leave. It works on intention, remember? I can leave. You can't. Got it? Now go shower. I won't be long." And he stepped over Xander's legs and walked away along the porch, towards the town. He was aware of Xander's eyes following him, but when he got to the office and looked back, the boy had already disappeared.
In fact he was an hour, or more. It felt so good to be out on his feet, instead of endlessly sitting in the car. He started to run and then kept going, for the sheer joy of it. Finding himself a good meal was not a problem, a homeless guy on a park bench, and there where more than enough shops open to provide a suitably healthy meal for a human. It had been a long time since Spike had needed to eat human food, and it had changed. It was interesting, actually looking at the variety on the shelves, reading some of the labels and picking through the fruit, savouring the fresh, green smells. He took his time.
*****
Grocery bag in hand, Spike strode back towards the room, feeling light and carefree. It wouldn't last, but for now it felt good. He'd almost reached the car and was already reviewing the best route out of town, when Xander's head popped into view above the roof. Spike took the last three steps slowly and carefully placed the bag down on the lid of the boot, as he peered around the far side of the car. His possessions were spread across the tarmac and he stood for a moment, rooted to the spot with surprise.
Xander reached back inside the open rear door and hauled a small wooden box off the seat, placing it carefully on the ground. He looked up at Spike and grinned. "Don't worry, I'll put it all back. I'm just trying to make some space."
"Some space?"
"Yeah, for my stuff. I need some clothes, Spike. I've been wearing these for three days. I've been thinking - like most of the day and in the shower, just now, and I figure, if I'm stuck with you, and you're not going to kill me, you'd better buy me some clothes." He looked up at Spike and his voice took on the tones of exaggerated concern. "Unless you like sharing a car with a stinky human?" Reading the answer to that in Spike's face, he nodded. "Didn't think so." He clambered back into the car and busied himself with rearranging the stuff piled there. Spike leant back against the rear wing, dug his fags out of his pocket and settled back to watch Xander work, and to make sure his own possessions were all safely returned to their places.
By the time Xander had finished, all the gear was stored away again, leaving a patch of seat about eighteen inches wide, still empty. Xander stood back and admired it. "My wardrobe," he said, proudly. "I can't do anything about leaving, so I'm going to have to make the best of things. Right?"
"Er, yeah, sure, mate," Spike mumbled around his fag. "The best of things." He felt adrift in the face of this new creature. This wasn't the defeated boy of the morning, nor the sulky one of the night before. What the fuck had happened while he slept?
Xander nodded briskly. "Okay then. Is that mine?" He gestured towards the grocery bag. Spike nodded. "Good, I'm starved. What did you get me?" He grabbed the bag, sat down on the porch step and started pulling things out of it. The plastic wrapped sandwich stayed out, as did the carton of milk and one of the apples. The rest of the apples, the grapes, sliced meat, bottle of orange juice and the bread rolls, went back. He looked up. "Thanks. I'll come with you next time. Guess they didn't have proper junk food when you were alive, eh?"
This was very strange. "Aren't you even a bit afraid?" Spike asked.
Xander paused in unwrapping the sandwich and glanced up. "Totally terrified," he agreed, seriously. "But since I can't do anything about where I am, I've decided I need to take control of what I can. Way I see it, this is good for both of us - I get to be clean and you get to have an unsmelly co-driver."
In the face of the inexplicable, Spike latched on to the last word. "Co-driver?" he asked, dubiously.
"Sure. Why not?" Xander paused, as if he expected an answer to that one, but Spike could think of so many reasons, he couldn't pick one out of the mass. Giving up with a shrug, Xander continued, "So, mall? shops? clothes? We're all packed. We can go now, if you like."
*****
The parking lot was fairly empty, which Spike took to be a good sign. He parked near the main doors and sat back, hands braced on the wheel. Xander looked at him. "You have to come with me," he said. "I can't walk away from you, remember."
Spike sighed and hauled himself out of the car. With a shake of his head, he watched Xander march ahead, as he trailed him towards the shops.
Xander headed straight for some cheap chain store, Payless or Target, or something. Spike caught up with him and herded him away, to a store which looked more like one he would be seen dead in.
Jeans were easy. Spike noted the size Xander was looking at, walked over to the shelf of Wranglers and picked up a pair, thrusting them into Xander's arms. Shirts were more difficult. Xander headed to the generic T-shirts, with their glaring bright colours, but no way was Spike associating with Xander in orange. He grabbed hold of the boy by the scruff of the neck and steered him away from the piles of cheap clothes in sealed plastic bags, to an area where the shirts hung on hangers. With a quick glance, to assess Xander's size, he picked up navy blue, black, forest green, maroon and grey and added those to the pile in Xander's arms.
Xander gazed at him, open mouthed. "Hey, man, what are you doing?"
"Buying you some proper shirts, in proper colours, which don't make you look like a neon display."
"But I like those colours, is not just that they're cheap." Spike just looked at him, sceptically. "Colours are expressive."
"Yeah, pet, expressive of God-awful bad taste." He scowled at Xander and stomped off to find a couple of long sleeved shirts.
Xander glared at him. "Those are so conventional. I'm seventeen, I'm supposed to explore possibilities."
"Well I'm 120, and I know better." He dumped the shirts on the pile. "Socks and knickers," he said, pointing. "Go."
Back at the car Xander deposited his new purchasers lovingly in his space on the backseat. He shoved his hands in pockets of his new jeans, hunched his shoulders in his new leather jacket, and looked up at Spike shyly. "Thanks," he mumbled.
"Just get in the car, whelp. I need to get out of here."
*****
As they pulled on to the I-80, Xander leant back in his seat and turned to Spike with a grin. "That was fun. I got more new clothes in half an hour than I did in the last year. You," he added, with emphasis, "are a man who knows how to shop. You'd put Buffy to shame." He sighed with satisfaction. "I feel like we're bonding. This could be the start of a beautiful friendship."
Spike smirked. "Do you, pet?"
"But I'm not going to turn nocturnal, okay? So next place we stop, I want to be close to the restaurant. Will you give me some money?" Spike said nothing, but Xander didn't seem discouraged. "The way I see it, if I'm stuck with you, I'm going to have to make the best of it. Then, I figure, I hang around and wait for someone to kill you, since I can't do it myself."
Spike raised an eyebrow. "Going to be waiting a long time then. Hundred and twenty years and two slayers have tried that and I'm still walking."
Xander looked thoughtful. "Two slayers? Hmm, I think I remember Giles saying something about that once. Something about China? When was that?"
"1900, there abouts. Boxer Rebellion was in full swing. Blood and fire in the streets. Dead missionaries all over the place. Took her out in a temple."
"Why were you in China?"
"Don't know. Just went where Darla's whim took us. Took us to China."
"What about after that?"
Spike shrugged. "Back to Europe, through British India, Persia, Turkey, Greece, back to Germany, eventually. Then we went to Paris for a while. What is this, twenty bloody questions?"
"British India?" Xander sounded honestly puzzled. "Is there more than one?"
"Sure, they've got them all over." Spike glared at the boy. "What do you think?" Xander was doing a parody of polite interest. Spike sighed. Again. "You know? The Raj? Sun never set on the British Empire and all that rot?"
Xander frowned. "But it did set. It's gone. The US is the new power in the world."
"Not how it worked. They meant literally. Think about it, Canada, the UK, good bits of African, India, Australia and a fair smattering of Pacific Islands - there was always somewhere in the British Empire with the sun in the sky."
"Have you been to all those places?" Xander asked, apparently diverted by this new thought.
Spike raised an eyebrow. Again. "Lot of them."
"So after India...?"
"By sea to Persia, as it was then, then overland." At Xander's interrogatory grunt, he explained. "Don't want to spend too long at sea, pet - food's limited." He thought back to that long journey, only months after Angelus left for the second time, and remembered Dru's savagery, whenever he let her out of his sight. "Shirraz was beautiful in those days. Dru loved the Middle East, better than Asia. We went through Palestine to Turkey - Adana to Ankara to Istanbul. That was all the Ottoman Empire in those days, of course."
"The Ottoman Empire?"
"Don't they teach you anything? You know sultans, harems and eunuchs."
"You're kidding?" He sounded awed. "You mean like the Arabian nights?"
"So you have read some literature, then?" Spike observed.
Xander grinned, self-deprecatingly. "Well, I saw a movie."
Spike laughed back. "Tell you what pet, once we get to New York, I'm going to teach you to read."
Next Part
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-03-03 06:09 pm (UTC)I love the idea of Xander taking control of his captivity, it really has taken Spike by surprise. I can see he's going to be quite the demanding little kidnapee.
And the idea that he's satisfied with his 18 inches of space that he can call his own, does again call into question the whole way he was brought up.
Excellent use of the prompt. I love it when stories remind us of just how old Spike or Angel actually are and the things they must have seen.
So we've had the grocery shopping, then the clothes shopping, then the car pool, then the history lesson - so next up is the book club - my, aren't they the cosy pair. Why do I think you're going to cut the legs from under us all, just as we're getting comfy!
Great update, love. I really enjoyed how Xander recovered from the pain of the previous chapter. If nothing else he's a realist.
hope you feel better soon, hon
s xxx
no subject
Date: 2007-03-04 02:29 pm (UTC)I needed to reassert Xander's strength after last week, but you and my beloved are united in wanting to move me on *g* *pauses, taps chin thoughtfully* Bookclub...? Hmm... *g*
I suspect Xander has had practice in making do with what he has, which is one of his strengths. I guess we'll have to wait and see if it lasts.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-03 07:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-04 02:31 pm (UTC)I think Xander has really surprised Spike this week. But Spike is an adaptable demon and I think he prefers Xander cheerful.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-03 08:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-04 02:32 pm (UTC)Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-03 10:56 pm (UTC)love Spike giving history lessons.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-04 02:35 pm (UTC)I was worried about the history lesson, that it would feel forced, but what was I going to do with Ankara, for goodness sakes. I think teleportation wouldn't fit with the story *g*
no subject
Date: 2007-03-04 03:36 am (UTC)I'm seventeen, I'm supposed to explore possibilities.
"Well I'm 120, and I know better.
Absolutely love this, and it seems to speak to the tone of the whole piece, although Xander certainly does come away with quite a lot of control in here, doesn't he? His attitude is good; if he can't decide to not be kidnapped, then he'll just have to do whatever he can wherever he can. Smart boy.
This really was just very pleasant. A sharp contrast to the nearly overwhelming ache I felt for Xander last week in his abbreviated attempt at escape. As ever, you have the dialog down pat, and the flavor is just right. Well done!
Oh, and odd this... Come on. Up you get. This guard dog at the door impression is all very well, but it's time to get up and get moving.
I almost worked in a reference to Cullen's hound this week. I did do so in the original version of the story, but it didn't quite work this go round. At any rate, it just struck me when I read that line of Spike's, whether you meant Cuchulain or not.
*hugs* to you. Get better please.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-04 02:42 pm (UTC)I didn't actually have Cuchulain in mind, but a fleeting image of an Irish wolfhound did surface as I wrote that line *g*
Thank you for the hug *hugs you back*
no subject
Date: 2007-03-04 11:29 am (UTC)And the way Xander reached for a little control made perfect sense, he's always been pragmatic about things, and his wanting to make the best of the situation was perfect.
He's treating Spike the same as he treats anyone else, now that he's figured out he isn't about to get killed, and it'll be nice to see how Spike copes with this side of Xander. Great chapter
no subject
Date: 2007-03-04 02:45 pm (UTC)Thank you, I'm glad the prompt worked, I was a bit worried about that.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-04 03:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-04 03:59 pm (UTC)*sing-songs* I'm not telling. Thank you. Yes, that's one of the things I love about Xander too.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-05 08:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-06 06:04 am (UTC)*grins back at you* Thanks for commenting.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-06 04:24 am (UTC)Still loving their conversations. And Spike telling Xan he's going to teach him to read- hah! More like *what* to read.
Thanks for the lovely words, C
no subject
Date: 2007-06-07 05:13 am (UTC)Thanks for reading and commenting.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-14 06:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-15 07:02 am (UTC)Thanks for the comment.