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thismaz.
I tried to post this an hour ago, but LJ wouldn't let me, lets see if it works this time.
Title: Just another word
Part 35 of the Blood on a Sundial series.
Previous parts, in reverse order, are here or in my memories.
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: #51 - Your sign
At:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tamingthemuse
Summary: Spike, Xander, AU in Season 2. We are talking slow burn here, people.
Disclaimer: here.
Rating: Pg
Word Count: 2,300
35. Just another word
It was, Xander realised, the first time Jimmy had been allowed up to the apartment. Ushered in by Spike, he entered hesitantly, his eyes scanning around the room, fixing for a moment on the bed, then moving on to the desk, the kitchen and the table where Xander sat with his notebook open in front of him, before switching back to Xander's nest in the corner. Seeming to relax slightly, he stepped away from the door and went over to the desk, taking hold of the back of the chair.
Spike followed. "Go on then," he instructed. "Get it up and working. I've got a job for you. Need you to do another one of those search thingies."
Glancing back over his shoulder, Jimmy nodded. "Sire." He took a quick inventory of the hardware and started untangling the mass of cables lying next to the monitor, separating them and laying them out on the desk. Then he took a seat and began plugging them into the various sockets on the machine. It didn't take him long before the mess was replaced by an orderly arrangement of monitor, mouse, keyboard and main box. Xander wandered over to watch, compelled by the efficiency of his movements. Jimmy pushed the 'on' button. "I just need to set up the connection. It won't take long," he explained as the screen came alive - white text flashing across it, too fast for Xander to make sense of, even if he'd known what it all meant. The brand new Windows 98 logo appeared for a moment, before it was replaced by more white text on black. Then an electronic fanfare burst out and Jimmy reached forwards, twisting a knob on one of the speakers, as the screen settled on white clouds on a pale blue background. "Do you have a user ID you want to use?"
Glancing at Spike, Xander saw that the question meant nothing to him. "How about 'bigbad'," he suggested, with a grin.
Spike's eyebrow went up. "You mean, like a name?" he asked. Jimmy looked round, but Spike's gaze was fixed on Xander. Xander nodded. "Okay, yeah, 'Bigbad', that'll do. Go for it." They watched as Jimmy began to type and click his way through the set up procedure. After a moment, Spike appeared to get bored with his role as observer. "Well, pet," he said, nodding towards the table. "Watcha doing over there?"
Xander scowled. "Don't call me 'pet'. I don't like it. I'm not a pet."
Grinning, Spike put a hand on his shoulder, turning him back to the kitchen. "Okay, Xander" he said, with ironic emphasis. "Don't get your knickers in a twist. It doesn't mean you are. 'S just a term of affection. Be grateful, I could call you 'ducks' or 'mon petit chou'. If you knew what that meant, you'd probably like it even less. He gave Xander a gentle shove. "Come on, show me what you've been playing at while we were asleep."
Scowling harder, Xander led the way to the kitchen table and flopped into his chair. "What is it with you and the way you talk?" he asked. "You don't speak like you used to."
Spike looked nonplussed. "Y'what? 'Course I do." He picked up his cigarette packet and pulled one out, then started searching around the table top in a distracted manner.
Xander reached across to the counter and threw him the lighter from next to the stove. "No you don't, except you are now. Why?"
Frowning, Spike sat back and took a drag on his cigarette. "Guess I forgot." he admitted eventually. He slouched further down in his chair, adding thoughtfully, "Dru had a real strong accent. Don't know why, since she was brought up well when she was human, but she did. I picked it up from her. Became a habit." He looked at Xander from under his brows. "It's useful anyway, being able to play different parts. Helps you get access to all sorts of parties and stuff. I can be upper class posh or guttersnipe as the occasion demands." He shrugged. "Depends on the company." He took another drag and absentmindedly blew the smoke out over the table.
Xander flinched back, waving his hand in front of his face. "Hey! Human here. You know there's this theory about second hand smoke?"
"You won't die of cancer, pet. Don't worry."
Somehow that sounded more like a promise than empty reassurance and for some reason it worried Xander. In an attempt to escape where that thought may take him, he stood and picked up the kettle, taking it across to the tap to fill. As he turned back to put it on the hob he remembered what Roger Wyndam-Pryce had said. "So were you really a poet?" he asked.
Spike looked up sharply, then turned to glance at Jimmy, but he seemed to be engrossed in the computer. "Don't go there," he warned. "I'd have to kill you, and you don't want that." Pulling a couple of mugs out of the cupboard, Xander hid his grin in his shoulder.
He made the coffee, sat back down and decided that he might as well explain his idea to Spike. "I've been thinking," he said, taking a sip of his drink and grinning as he caught Spike's sceptical expression. "I think I may have a lead on that book you want." At that, Spike's expression sharpened, so he continued. "Last year, we did a project at school. We scanned all Giles' books into the computer. It was a whole big mess with a demon in the internet, so we kind of forgot about it. But that didn't happen until after we'd finished. So, I'm thinking your book might have been one of the ones we scanned in...." He trailed off, uncertain if he was making promises that would come to nothing. "I mean, I'm not certain. But it might be. If Jimmy can hack into the auction house records, I'm sure he can get into the high school library. I don't think Willow put any fancy protection on it, or anything."
Spike was back with Jimmy in seconds, peering over his shoulder and urging him on to 'get it sorted now!' And eventually Jimmy did get it sorted. By 10pm he'd not only got the computer working and connected to the internet, but on Spike's instruction and with Xander's help, he had also hacked into the Sunnydale High School library server and located the scanned images of the Argentum Veneficus, saved in a folder called 'Giles Personal'. It then took over an hour to download the files to their own computer, but eventually they were saved and Jimmy began printing them out. Each page seemed to take an age to print and Spike snatched them, one at a time, from the printer as they appeared, running his eyes across the tightly printed words and throwing each one down as the next came out. Xander, realising there were no numbers on the sheets, gathered them up and stacked them neatly, resolving to go and buy a folder the next day, to keep them safe. After all Jimmy's hard work, it only seemed fair to treat the results with some respect.
Sometime near midnight Spike gave a growl. "Yes!" he cried. "Here it is: The Gem of Amara." He continued to read for a bit longer, his pleasure turning to frustration. "Sorcerers! Why do they insist on being so bloody obscure? This is going to take days to work out." Slapping the page down on the desk, he turned to Jimmy. "But you've done good and you deserve a reward. Come on, lets go out to eat, before it's too late and all the houses shut for the day." He turned to Xander. "I need to check it out anyway. Heard some rumours of trouble last time I was there. Whispering and plots. Need to go take them down a peg or two. You stay here."
"You think there's trouble at the house?" Xander asked. "But, I'd better come. Jimmy can't fight." He ignored the glare that got him from Jimmy.
Spike laughed, slapping Jimmy on the shoulder. "Maybe not, but he's a vampire. You're not. A human in a place like that? Asking to get bit. You stay here, okay? We'll be back before dawn."
Realising any protest would be useless, Xander nodded sulkily and watched them leave. He looked at the printer, still slowly churning out the pages of the precious book. They'd be safe there, now that Spike wasn't doing his best to mix them all up. He looked back at the door. Then he went and got his shoes.
It took him longer than he thought to get out of the factory and by the time he reached the street, Spike and Jimmy were out of sight. But he had a pretty good idea where Duke's place was, so he set off at a run, certain he'd catch sight of them shortly. He didn't. Even though the streets were fairly empty, there was no sign of a white head of hair, or a long leather duster.
He ended up wandering, certain he'd spot them eventually, unwilling to admit that he had no idea where they'd gone. Every time he considered turning back, the thought that they might be round the next corner, tempted him on. But eventually he had to admit he was not going to find them. At about the same time, he also realised he'd not eaten since breakfast at sunset and he was starving. Spotting an all night burger joint, surrounded by parked up taxi cabs, he crossed the road and went in. He didn't intend to stay long, but the place was crowded and he had to wait, then he got talking to one of the drivers, when he asked to share a table. And the burger was good and the fries were just right and the chocolate shake was perfect. The taxi driver was talkative and it was easier to sit and chat and pretend to be human, than it was to contemplate the possibility that Spike was in the middle of a fight. It wasn't until his companion eventually left, mumbling about getting his cab back to the depot, that he glanced up at the window and saw the lightening of the sky and realised just how late it really was. As the thought struck him, he braced himself for the not-quite-pain of the spell, already beginning to stand, knowing that once he was heading back home, the discomfort would soon pass. Nothing happened. He sat down again.
His shake was sitting in a pool of condensation on the formica table top, and after a moment he picked it up carefully and stuck the straw in his mouth. It was still thick enough to make it difficult to drink, but the cold chocolate milkyness was a comforting flavour from childhood and he needed all the comfort he could get, as the implications of his lack of discomfort sank in. He thought about the early part of the evening and was surprised to recognise how relaxed he'd been sitting across the table from an old and powerful vampire. It had felt familiar, friendly, comfortable. He had, he realised, become accustomed. But now he was faced with a choice, and he didn't know what to do.
So he sat and watched the sunrise brighten further, trying to work out what it meant. Sunnydale or Peru? Peru or Sunnydale? The question circled his mind, leaving him more confused than he could ever remember being. Considering his life so far, that was saying something. And that was assuming Spike and Jimmy got back safe. For a moment, he considered Canada. Taking another pull on the straw, the sound of the dregs of his shake echoed around the cup and up into his mouth. He chased the last traces of chocolate noisily around the bottom, then set it down. Wearily, he got up and gazed around the diner at the last few customers. He thought about walking away. Walking until he reached a bus station. Walking right up town to Grand Central. Walking anywhere and finding a bank, like Giles had said all those weeks and months ago. He stepped out onto the sidewalk and turned his feet towards home.
Climbing the rickety fire escape was child's play. When he reached the roof access door he used his key to unlock it, but he didn't go in. Instead he sat down in his camp chair, where he sat when he woke up early enough and didn't need to go shopping. Turning his face to the sun, he basked.
Eventually there was a shuffling sound behind him and Spike's voice from the dark of the stairs. "Here you are. I've been looking for you."
Xander rolled his head to the side and squinted into the doorway. "Yeah, here I am."
Spike settled himself down on the top step, well out of the way of the light. "You been sulking up here all morning?"
"Guess so."
"Huh. Right. Well, we both got back safe, thanks for asking. Jimmy's a bit beaten up, but I settled him eventually. He'll be good as new by tonight." He paused and Xander saw the flare of a flame followed by a thin puff of smoke which clouded the air, before it disappeared in the brightness of the morning. "So, you coming in, p... Xander?"
"In a moment. I just want to enjoy the fresh air and sunlight for a while."
Spike grunted with apparent displeasure, but he didn't say anything else, just got up and disappeared downstairs, grumbling to himself. Xander turned his face back to the light.
An hour later he hauled himself out of the chair and went down to bed.
Next Part
.
I tried to post this an hour ago, but LJ wouldn't let me, lets see if it works this time.
Title: Just another word
Part 35 of the Blood on a Sundial series.
Previous parts, in reverse order, are here or in my memories.
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: #51 - Your sign
At:
tamingthemuseSummary: Spike, Xander, AU in Season 2. We are talking slow burn here, people.
Disclaimer: here.
Rating: Pg
Word Count: 2,300
35. Just another word
It was, Xander realised, the first time Jimmy had been allowed up to the apartment. Ushered in by Spike, he entered hesitantly, his eyes scanning around the room, fixing for a moment on the bed, then moving on to the desk, the kitchen and the table where Xander sat with his notebook open in front of him, before switching back to Xander's nest in the corner. Seeming to relax slightly, he stepped away from the door and went over to the desk, taking hold of the back of the chair.
Spike followed. "Go on then," he instructed. "Get it up and working. I've got a job for you. Need you to do another one of those search thingies."
Glancing back over his shoulder, Jimmy nodded. "Sire." He took a quick inventory of the hardware and started untangling the mass of cables lying next to the monitor, separating them and laying them out on the desk. Then he took a seat and began plugging them into the various sockets on the machine. It didn't take him long before the mess was replaced by an orderly arrangement of monitor, mouse, keyboard and main box. Xander wandered over to watch, compelled by the efficiency of his movements. Jimmy pushed the 'on' button. "I just need to set up the connection. It won't take long," he explained as the screen came alive - white text flashing across it, too fast for Xander to make sense of, even if he'd known what it all meant. The brand new Windows 98 logo appeared for a moment, before it was replaced by more white text on black. Then an electronic fanfare burst out and Jimmy reached forwards, twisting a knob on one of the speakers, as the screen settled on white clouds on a pale blue background. "Do you have a user ID you want to use?"
Glancing at Spike, Xander saw that the question meant nothing to him. "How about 'bigbad'," he suggested, with a grin.
Spike's eyebrow went up. "You mean, like a name?" he asked. Jimmy looked round, but Spike's gaze was fixed on Xander. Xander nodded. "Okay, yeah, 'Bigbad', that'll do. Go for it." They watched as Jimmy began to type and click his way through the set up procedure. After a moment, Spike appeared to get bored with his role as observer. "Well, pet," he said, nodding towards the table. "Watcha doing over there?"
Xander scowled. "Don't call me 'pet'. I don't like it. I'm not a pet."
Grinning, Spike put a hand on his shoulder, turning him back to the kitchen. "Okay, Xander" he said, with ironic emphasis. "Don't get your knickers in a twist. It doesn't mean you are. 'S just a term of affection. Be grateful, I could call you 'ducks' or 'mon petit chou'. If you knew what that meant, you'd probably like it even less. He gave Xander a gentle shove. "Come on, show me what you've been playing at while we were asleep."
Scowling harder, Xander led the way to the kitchen table and flopped into his chair. "What is it with you and the way you talk?" he asked. "You don't speak like you used to."
Spike looked nonplussed. "Y'what? 'Course I do." He picked up his cigarette packet and pulled one out, then started searching around the table top in a distracted manner.
Xander reached across to the counter and threw him the lighter from next to the stove. "No you don't, except you are now. Why?"
Frowning, Spike sat back and took a drag on his cigarette. "Guess I forgot." he admitted eventually. He slouched further down in his chair, adding thoughtfully, "Dru had a real strong accent. Don't know why, since she was brought up well when she was human, but she did. I picked it up from her. Became a habit." He looked at Xander from under his brows. "It's useful anyway, being able to play different parts. Helps you get access to all sorts of parties and stuff. I can be upper class posh or guttersnipe as the occasion demands." He shrugged. "Depends on the company." He took another drag and absentmindedly blew the smoke out over the table.
Xander flinched back, waving his hand in front of his face. "Hey! Human here. You know there's this theory about second hand smoke?"
"You won't die of cancer, pet. Don't worry."
Somehow that sounded more like a promise than empty reassurance and for some reason it worried Xander. In an attempt to escape where that thought may take him, he stood and picked up the kettle, taking it across to the tap to fill. As he turned back to put it on the hob he remembered what Roger Wyndam-Pryce had said. "So were you really a poet?" he asked.
Spike looked up sharply, then turned to glance at Jimmy, but he seemed to be engrossed in the computer. "Don't go there," he warned. "I'd have to kill you, and you don't want that." Pulling a couple of mugs out of the cupboard, Xander hid his grin in his shoulder.
He made the coffee, sat back down and decided that he might as well explain his idea to Spike. "I've been thinking," he said, taking a sip of his drink and grinning as he caught Spike's sceptical expression. "I think I may have a lead on that book you want." At that, Spike's expression sharpened, so he continued. "Last year, we did a project at school. We scanned all Giles' books into the computer. It was a whole big mess with a demon in the internet, so we kind of forgot about it. But that didn't happen until after we'd finished. So, I'm thinking your book might have been one of the ones we scanned in...." He trailed off, uncertain if he was making promises that would come to nothing. "I mean, I'm not certain. But it might be. If Jimmy can hack into the auction house records, I'm sure he can get into the high school library. I don't think Willow put any fancy protection on it, or anything."
Spike was back with Jimmy in seconds, peering over his shoulder and urging him on to 'get it sorted now!' And eventually Jimmy did get it sorted. By 10pm he'd not only got the computer working and connected to the internet, but on Spike's instruction and with Xander's help, he had also hacked into the Sunnydale High School library server and located the scanned images of the Argentum Veneficus, saved in a folder called 'Giles Personal'. It then took over an hour to download the files to their own computer, but eventually they were saved and Jimmy began printing them out. Each page seemed to take an age to print and Spike snatched them, one at a time, from the printer as they appeared, running his eyes across the tightly printed words and throwing each one down as the next came out. Xander, realising there were no numbers on the sheets, gathered them up and stacked them neatly, resolving to go and buy a folder the next day, to keep them safe. After all Jimmy's hard work, it only seemed fair to treat the results with some respect.
Sometime near midnight Spike gave a growl. "Yes!" he cried. "Here it is: The Gem of Amara." He continued to read for a bit longer, his pleasure turning to frustration. "Sorcerers! Why do they insist on being so bloody obscure? This is going to take days to work out." Slapping the page down on the desk, he turned to Jimmy. "But you've done good and you deserve a reward. Come on, lets go out to eat, before it's too late and all the houses shut for the day." He turned to Xander. "I need to check it out anyway. Heard some rumours of trouble last time I was there. Whispering and plots. Need to go take them down a peg or two. You stay here."
"You think there's trouble at the house?" Xander asked. "But, I'd better come. Jimmy can't fight." He ignored the glare that got him from Jimmy.
Spike laughed, slapping Jimmy on the shoulder. "Maybe not, but he's a vampire. You're not. A human in a place like that? Asking to get bit. You stay here, okay? We'll be back before dawn."
Realising any protest would be useless, Xander nodded sulkily and watched them leave. He looked at the printer, still slowly churning out the pages of the precious book. They'd be safe there, now that Spike wasn't doing his best to mix them all up. He looked back at the door. Then he went and got his shoes.
It took him longer than he thought to get out of the factory and by the time he reached the street, Spike and Jimmy were out of sight. But he had a pretty good idea where Duke's place was, so he set off at a run, certain he'd catch sight of them shortly. He didn't. Even though the streets were fairly empty, there was no sign of a white head of hair, or a long leather duster.
He ended up wandering, certain he'd spot them eventually, unwilling to admit that he had no idea where they'd gone. Every time he considered turning back, the thought that they might be round the next corner, tempted him on. But eventually he had to admit he was not going to find them. At about the same time, he also realised he'd not eaten since breakfast at sunset and he was starving. Spotting an all night burger joint, surrounded by parked up taxi cabs, he crossed the road and went in. He didn't intend to stay long, but the place was crowded and he had to wait, then he got talking to one of the drivers, when he asked to share a table. And the burger was good and the fries were just right and the chocolate shake was perfect. The taxi driver was talkative and it was easier to sit and chat and pretend to be human, than it was to contemplate the possibility that Spike was in the middle of a fight. It wasn't until his companion eventually left, mumbling about getting his cab back to the depot, that he glanced up at the window and saw the lightening of the sky and realised just how late it really was. As the thought struck him, he braced himself for the not-quite-pain of the spell, already beginning to stand, knowing that once he was heading back home, the discomfort would soon pass. Nothing happened. He sat down again.
His shake was sitting in a pool of condensation on the formica table top, and after a moment he picked it up carefully and stuck the straw in his mouth. It was still thick enough to make it difficult to drink, but the cold chocolate milkyness was a comforting flavour from childhood and he needed all the comfort he could get, as the implications of his lack of discomfort sank in. He thought about the early part of the evening and was surprised to recognise how relaxed he'd been sitting across the table from an old and powerful vampire. It had felt familiar, friendly, comfortable. He had, he realised, become accustomed. But now he was faced with a choice, and he didn't know what to do.
So he sat and watched the sunrise brighten further, trying to work out what it meant. Sunnydale or Peru? Peru or Sunnydale? The question circled his mind, leaving him more confused than he could ever remember being. Considering his life so far, that was saying something. And that was assuming Spike and Jimmy got back safe. For a moment, he considered Canada. Taking another pull on the straw, the sound of the dregs of his shake echoed around the cup and up into his mouth. He chased the last traces of chocolate noisily around the bottom, then set it down. Wearily, he got up and gazed around the diner at the last few customers. He thought about walking away. Walking until he reached a bus station. Walking right up town to Grand Central. Walking anywhere and finding a bank, like Giles had said all those weeks and months ago. He stepped out onto the sidewalk and turned his feet towards home.
Climbing the rickety fire escape was child's play. When he reached the roof access door he used his key to unlock it, but he didn't go in. Instead he sat down in his camp chair, where he sat when he woke up early enough and didn't need to go shopping. Turning his face to the sun, he basked.
Eventually there was a shuffling sound behind him and Spike's voice from the dark of the stairs. "Here you are. I've been looking for you."
Xander rolled his head to the side and squinted into the doorway. "Yeah, here I am."
Spike settled himself down on the top step, well out of the way of the light. "You been sulking up here all morning?"
"Guess so."
"Huh. Right. Well, we both got back safe, thanks for asking. Jimmy's a bit beaten up, but I settled him eventually. He'll be good as new by tonight." He paused and Xander saw the flare of a flame followed by a thin puff of smoke which clouded the air, before it disappeared in the brightness of the morning. "So, you coming in, p... Xander?"
"In a moment. I just want to enjoy the fresh air and sunlight for a while."
Spike grunted with apparent displeasure, but he didn't say anything else, just got up and disappeared downstairs, grumbling to himself. Xander turned his face back to the light.
An hour later he hauled himself out of the chair and went down to bed.
Next Part
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![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-07-15 01:32 am (UTC)maybe Stockholm would have been a better choice.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-15 01:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-15 05:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-15 01:34 am (UTC)Oh and thanks for giving me the tour last chapter! Hee.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-15 05:43 am (UTC)As for the spell.... All I can recommend is you check back at chapter 29 *g*
And you are welcome. It was useful for me to put it in writing. I hope nothing clashed too much with what you had already pictured. I didn't remember until too late that that can happen - a later description of a space by an author disrupting the half formed image in my mind can cause me all sorts of problems in reading on. *g*
no subject
Date: 2007-07-15 10:45 am (UTC)After all Jimmy's hard work, it only seemed fair to treat the results with some respect.</>
I wondered weeks ago, remember, whether Xander would come to identify with Jimmy. I like this a lot, even if it's only a reminder of how Xander is so empathetic of everyone around him. (God, now there's an idea... Xander the empath.)
and it was easier to sit and chat and pretend to be human No comment now other than to say I noticed this.
He chased the last traces of chocolate noisily around the bottom Beautiful turn of phrase.
He stepped out onto the sidewalk and turned his feet towards home. Although I suspected, I didn't rush, just let the story take me until I saw where he went. (This so beautifully written...)
p... Xander Again, no need to comment.
I feel almost guilty for deconstructing your chapter this week; it was lovely all intact. I really couldn't help myself though. You completely outdid everything that's come before (in all of your other work) in terms of elements, and those elements made for a beautiful piece. I still want the next part of the story as ever, but this was a absolute art.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-15 11:16 am (UTC)I'm glad you noticed that bit about pretending to be human. In that moment Xander is feeling a little isolated and alienated from his species.
Deconstruct away. I enjoy you deconstructing. I'm flattered by the thought that my story warrants the effort.
And I'm overwhelmed by your praise. Thank you.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-15 12:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-15 12:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-15 07:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-16 04:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-16 01:14 am (UTC)Somehow I have the feeling that a journey back to Sunnydale will soon be in order *g*
Lovely work.
Shakatany
no subject
Date: 2007-07-16 04:56 am (UTC)*grin* I may have to take them back eventually, just to get a bit of closure.
Thank you so much for commenting. I really appreciate it.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-16 07:30 pm (UTC)I wonder what Spike will do when he figures it out?
no subject
Date: 2007-07-17 05:11 am (UTC)I wonder what Spike will do when he figures it out?
Ah, now there's a question. *g* And, as usual, I'm refusing to answer.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-19 03:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-19 04:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-18 06:09 am (UTC)petXan.no subject
Date: 2007-07-19 04:31 am (UTC)Poor Xander, he's really had to grow up in the last three months, or so.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-21 12:38 pm (UTC)I thought it might have been broken by accident when they had that run in with the watchers and their trinket, when the senior watcher used a magic breaking spell on Spike... or thought he did... and the others thought it just didn't work... anyway ... yeah Stockholm sounds right ;)
Looking forward to more *smiles, waves and returns to the Deathly Hallows*
no subject
Date: 2007-07-21 02:38 pm (UTC)*waves back at you* I am so flattered you took time out from Deathly Hallows to comment. Thank you. More this afternoon.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-22 10:13 am (UTC)I think everyone has said all that needs to be said. Really great chapter, with Xander finally realising the spell is defunct and making him own decisions to stay.
"You won't die of cancer, pet. Don't worry." Loved the subtext of that line.
For a moment, he considered Canada." Hee, he can come and stay with me!
Loved the image of Xander having to gather up the papers as they came off the printer because Spike would just have left them in a mess. Hee, got to love the vamp with the ADD.
Great chapter, love. Now skipping along to the next one.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-22 12:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-19 05:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-20 08:36 pm (UTC)This is a definite crux point for Xander and he made a choice, for the first time in months he was able to make a choice. I'm glad that felt natural, even if it was because he couldn't imagine what he should do with his potential freedom to choose.