Prompt 76 - Stepping out - BtVS

[thismaz]

My New Year's resolution? I have given up on my back list of unread posts and am starting from scratch in 2008. And I'm going to stop trying to read *everything*, because I've decided that is me being greedy and is probably unhealthy *g*.

 Title: Stepping out
 Fandom: BtVS
 Prompt: 76 - Mount Everest
 At: tamingthemuse
 Rating: Teen
 Summary: Part 15 of my pre-season one story which includes Xander, Willow, Jesse, Angel and Spike.
 Word Count: 3,210
 Comments: Are greatly appreciated, loved and cherished.
 Previous parts, in reverse order, are here or in my memories.
 Disclaimer: here.
AN: I feel I need to put a strong warning on this chapter. And I like this trick I am beginning to see around the place, so, since I've figured out how to do it... you need to highlight the white patch if you want to see the warning.

Warning:

I have thought for a while that this would happen, but didn't know the form it would take. I have seen many notes which say things like 'Character death, but not really.' I can't say that, so the warning is - not just vamp-Xander, but, as a result, major character death.

Now beta'd by the wonderful laazikaat

15. Stepping out

Monday night

It's not that Xander had never seen adult movies before. On a couple of occasions, when his mother was out for the evening, he'd sat on the floor by the door of the living room where his Dad couldn't see him. But that had been secret. His dad hadn't known he was there in the dark, behind him. This wasn't. This was shared. And even if they did spend much of their time making rude comments about the lack of storyline and mocking the cheesy music, it was still, somehow, exciting. And as the movie progressed, Xander didn't notice that his jokes gradually trailed off, until they stopped altogether.

Some time, shortly after the third or fourth blow job given by the busty blond in the lace negligee, Xander was vaguely conscious of Spike getting up to fetch another beer, but he was suddenly hyper-aware, when Spike sat down again, that he seemed to be sitting closer than before. Casually Xander allowed his leg to flop to the side, so it was touching Spike's, and Spike didn't pull away.

When the end credits eventually rolled, Spike looked across at him. "Want another?" he asked, lifting his beer bottle and indicating the half empty one Xander had been clutching tightly in his hands, but had otherwise forgotten, paralysed by the sensation of his knee against Spike's thigh.

Xander looked up, startled. "No. Thanks," he blurted, taking a quick swig to hide his confusion. 'When had Spike undone the top buttons of his shirt?' he wondered. For a moment he was mesmerised by the vee of exposed skin, framed by the blood red of Spike's collar. So pale. Maybe it was because he was English? The sharp edges of his collar bone created a shadowed hollow and Xander's eyes were inexorably drawn up, to follow the line of Spike's neck to his ear and the tightly gelled feathers of hair clinging to his skull, across to his face and his amused blue eyes, and the dark, scarred eyebrow, which was cocked questioningly. With a guilty start, Xander pulled his gaze away, taking another big gulp of his beer. It was warm and fizzy and he choked slightly. Spike laughed softly and, hauling himself upright, wandered into the kitchen, giving Xander time to compose himself again.

When he came back Spike flicked the remote to switch the TV off and sat into the corner of the sofa, twisting around so that he was facing Xander. "You a churchgoer, Xander?"

Surprised by the question and wondering if Spike was feeling bad about sharing the movie with him, when he now knew that Xander was still only sixteen, Xander hesitated in answering "Er... No... Not really. My mom goes, most Sundays. I guess she'd say we were Episcopalian, but she doesn't drag me along any more, and my dad...

"Hmm." Spike frowned. "Did you go to Sunday school?"

"Yeah," Xander replied, still dubious about why Spike was asking, but happy enough to play along. "When I was little." Of all the subjects he'd thought Spike might want to discuss, this was not one of them. "Why?" he asked.

Spike grinned disarmingly. "Oh, just something I was thinking about earlier, before you arrived," he explained. "I don't really remember much church stuff. But when I was out last night, this guy said something. Got me thinking about souls and wondering what they are, and if they do anything."

"Do anything?" That was a strange question, on top of a series of other strange questions.

"Yeah, you know, make us good, or something."

Xander squinted thoughtfully at Spike. "I don't know," he said. "I don't think so. I mean... Hitler had a soul, didn't he?"

"Yeah. I guess he did." For some reason Spike looked pleased, but Xander was already too confused to try figuring that one out. "So," Spike continued, "if they don't make us good, what are they for? If having a soul doesn't stop someone being evil..." Spike trailed off.

Deciding that whatever this was, it appeared to be important to Spike, Xander concentrated. "We all have souls," he said, slowly." But I don't think most people are good," Spike looked up, but Xander hadn't finished, "or evil," he added. "I think most people are in the middle. I had one teacher, and she said that our souls were the bit of us that lives after we're dead."

Spike gave a bark of laughter which stopped as suddenly as it began. "What else?" he asked.

"Er, that it's the bit that makes us think." Spike raised an eyebrow. "Makes us know when something's right or wrong, so we can choose to do right. Um... I guess it's what makes us, us."

Spike looked thoughtful then. "But it doesn't force us to do right?"

With a grin Xander played his trump again. "Hitler!"

"Yeah..." Spike lapsed into silence, obviously thinking hard, while Xander sat waiting to see if there would be an explanation for why they were having this very strange conversation. Eventually Spike spoke again. "So a soul can be corrupted. It's just a matter of whether the person always chooses to be good."

"My teacher said it was a battle. That doing evil was always easier than doing the right thing."

"And if that happens... if the person doesn't fight, if they don't choose to do good?"

"Then I guess a soul doesn't make any difference. Why are we talking about this? What's with all the soulfulness?"

Xander laughed, hoping Spike would understand the joke and he did smile, but he also looked intently at Xander. "Sorry, pet." he eventually offered, hoisting his bottle again. "Guess I've drunk more than I thought, getting all maudlin and stuff. Forget about it. It was an aberration. Let's talk about something else. What d'you want to do, more than anything?" Xander froze. "With your life," Spike clarified.

"With my life?" Xander felt an incredulous giggle escape him. "Not exactly a less serious question there, Spike." But Spike's gaze didn't waver and eventually the power of his regard drove Xander to add, "Err, I don't know?"

"No job in mind? No lifelong ambition?"

"To survive high school?"

Spike cocked his head and studied Xander's face. "Apart from that? Travel? See the world?"

"Well, maybe... I suppose..."

Spike frowned. "Do you really want to spend the rest of your life in Sunnydale?"

Feeling the disapproval inherent in the question, Xander hurried to provide an acceptable answer. "Oh! No! I want to get out! I really don't want to spend the rest of my life here, I just don't know what I want to do, apart from that."

He was rewarded with a slight smile. "Would you like to travel with me?"

Blinking in surprise and beginning to think Spike really was drunker than he appeared, Xander decided to play along. "Er... are you asking? I mean, offering?"

The smile widened, almost imperceptibly, but suddenly Xander felt like Spike was serious in his question. "Could be, pet, could be. Interested?"

Smiling shyly back, Xander nodded. "Well, yeah, of course I would. But I have to finish high school."

Spike shifted closer and ran a hand up Xander's arm and around the back of his neck. "I can show you the world," he whispered, as he pulled Xander towards him and into a kiss.

*****

Xander's lips were loose and wet and warm, and Spike relaxed into the sensation, taking control of the kiss and enjoying the way the boy's initial hesitation was replaced by fervent enthusiasm. Leaning forwards, Spike pushed Xander back so he lay into his corner of the couch and Spike was sprawled on top of him. He radiated heat, like the sand on the white beach, that summer William's mother was persuaded by her doctor to go to Torquay and try the sea cure. Six year old William had played, bare foot in the shallows, and the sand had squished between his toes as his feet left indentations, which immediately filled with water. Spike remembered how William had run back to where his mother sat on a spread blanket, the sparkling grains sticking to his wet skin and he'd buried his feet in the dry sand, feeling the heat stored in the top few inches leach out the chill of the sea, leaving the tops of them tingling.

Such strong sensory recall from William's life was rare and for a moment Spike lost himself in Xander's warmth and the glow of one of William's most treasured memories. A hand on the back of his neck forced him back to the present and he pulled away from Xander.

His voice husky with stolen nostalgia, he asked, "Want what I can offer you, pet?"

Xander looked dazed. "Oh yeah," he breathed, tilting his head and offering his lips again. He didn't see the way Spike's smile turned feral, as he lowered his mouth to Xander's exposed neck.

*****

Wednesday evening

Spike sat in his habitual corner of the sofa, watching over Xander's body stretched out on the floor at his feet and waited to see if his gamble had paid off. He'd never made a childe before and if it didn't work, if the demon failed to assimilate both the memories and the personality of the dead boy, then he'd have cocked up his best weapon in his campaign to force Angelus' help for Dru.

You couldn't force a child. Spike didn't know why, but he did know that something in the magic required some sort of consent, no matter how uninformed. He'd done his best to build a relationship with the human and with luck that would carry over into the new vampire. If it all went to plan, his new childe would rise, and in the process of awakening would access the patterns in his brain laid down by it's host's past, and what would emerge would truly be Xander, with all his charm and naive love of life, unspoilt.

That had been one of the boy's most attractive features. Xander had no side - none of the self-centred arrogance that too often irritated Spike into murderous action. He responded so immediately and so positively to a single word of praise, and Spike had taken care to nurture that hunger, so the demon should respond to Spike in the same way the human had.

The body gave a twitch and Spike leant forward, watching intently. He had a stake ready by his side, but he found himself hoping that he wouldn't be forced to use it.

He'd witnessed this process before, endlessly fascinated by the moment the demon reached consciousness, but never after feeding so much blood to the dying human. He'd been starving by the time Xander's heart had finally stuttered to a stop, the process of creation taking so much out of him that he'd been glad of the two day's respite that allowed him time to hunt and feed and regain his strength and more.

The body's eyelids twitched and its nostrils flared, then, with the crunch of shifting bones, the vampire arched and gasped as the eyes sprang open. With a jerk, it sat up, back rigid, and stared around the room. Spotting Spike, it froze, the eyebrows drawing together over glowing yellow eyes, as if it was trying to remember something. It growled.

Stake in hand, Spike slid down off the sofa to crouch in front of it. "Who are you?" he demanded. The new vampire growled again, it's lips moving, as if it was attempting to shape speech. Spike growled back. "Tell me who you are!" he ordered.

This time the change was a mere whisper, the sound of stiff paper being crumpled in a careful hand and the yellow eyes faded to brown. "I'm... I think..." he stuttered. "I think I'm Xander." The voice was rusty but recognisable and full of awe. "I'm Xander. And you're Spike. I remember. I remember Xander."

Spike put the stake down on the floor, slid back up onto the sofa and reached out his hands. "Come here," he murmured, "come here. My childe."

Rolling onto his hands and knees, Xander crawled slowly up onto the sofa to Spike's side and, as Dru had done for him when he finally clawed his way out of William's grave, Spike pulled Xander into his arms, humming softly as he rocked him and whispered comfort into his hair.

They sat like that for half an hour or more, as the young vampire's shivers gradually died down and he was doing nothing but cling to Spike. Eventually Spike pulled his head back and looked down at the averted face. He placed a hand under Xander's chin and tilted his head up, so he could catch the boy's eye. "How do you feel, pet?" he asked.

With a sigh, Xander shrugged. "Like I've been run over by a truck and it's scrambled my brain. What did you do to me?" he asked, already he sounded more like himself.

Spike grinned. "Yep, I think that's you, alright. You're a vampire."

"A vampire?" Xander's voice was incredulous. "There's no such thing as vampires! What did you do? Did you drug me?"

"No, not today."

"Not today?" And now there was a note of expected panic. "What do you mean, 'not today'?"

"Xander! Look at me!" Spike lifted the boy's hand and laid it on his own chest. "No heart beat," he said. He moved it to Xander's chest. "You don't need to breath." As if the words were a trigger, Xander started to pant. "Calm down." Spike relaxed his features and allowed the change. "You don't need to breath and you're a vampire. I'm a vampire and I turned you. Makes me your sire." He pushed Xander back, so he was sitting up straight. "That means you listen to me."

Xander's eyes widened in surprise and shock as he looked at Spike. He pulled his hand free and raised it to Spike's face, tracing his fingers gently over the ridges of his brow. "Wow!" he whispered. "Wow, wow, wow. Oh wow!"

With a grin, Spike took hold of Xander's chin and gave it a small shake. "Very coherent, pet. Believe me now?"

"No. I can't believe you. I mean, vampires? We're having a conversation with 'vampires' in it. And I'm looking at you and I still can't believe it. Shouldn't I be screaming and running for the door, or something?"

"Why'd you do that? You're a vampire too. And I told you, I'm your sire. I'll keep you safe and show you how it works. Trust me. I'll look after you." He pulled Xander back in to his side, with one arm around the boy's shoulders. "You'll be better once you've fed," he said, unbuttoning the first four buttons on his shirt. Xander looked up at him, his eyes wide with alarm. They stayed wide as Spike drew his knife from his belt and dug the point into the skin below his own collar bone, but as the blood began to trickle sluggishly down his chest, Xander's nostrils flared and when Spike guided his mouth to the flow there was no reluctance in the way he latched on and the muscles in his throat automatically began their powerful suction.

Spike leant back and cradled Xander to him, resuming the wordless humming he'd used earlier to soothe the demon, as it assimilated Xander's identity.

After ten minutes, he forced his hand between them and took a firm grip of Xander's throat, applying pressure to the feeding muscles and paralysing them. He pushed the boy away from the wound, which began immediately to close. "Feel better?" he asked.

Xander gazed up at him, a dazed and peaceful expression on his face. He nodded slightly and Spike released his grip. Xander darted back, briefly, but only to lick up the last of the blood, before it stained the edge of Spike's shirt, then he sat up again. "I'm a vampire," he announced.

Spike grinned. "That you are, pet."

Xander's face scrunched up in thought. "So where's my coffin?"

"Knew you'd be fine." Spike laughed. "Right! Lesson one. I know tradition says you should've had a proper burial and all, but I wanted to make sure you were alright. Wanted to know for sure." He gave Xander's shoulders a squeeze of reassurance. "Didn't want to be hanging around a graveyard waiting half the night, in case I missed you. And I really didn't want anyone else to find you first." Xander's smile was both grateful and tentative and Spike shrugged. "You didn't miss anything. And if anyone asks you can always lie, right?"

"Er, yeah, sure. Will anyone ask?"

"They might. There's some people get all snooty about where they come from. 'My grave was in the best part of town', sort of stuff. Load of old bollocks."

Xander chuckled. "I don't think my family could afford the best graveyard, so I'm not bothered by waking up on the floor."

'Time for lesson two, then,' Spike decided. He frowned at Xander and hardened his voice "You're not that boy. Don't make that mistake, just because you carry his memories. That boy is gone. You're a vampire. First, last and always."

"But, I remember...?"

"The memories are important. They'll shape you. As my great grand-sire said, in a rare moment of poetry, 'What we once were informs all that we become.' You'll always be Xander. But you're different too. You're powerful now. You can do things you couldn't do before."

"Yeah, like not breathe. Hey! Can I fly?"

Kids today, raised on comic books and trashy novels. "Er, no, not without an aeroplane." In the face of the boy's obvious disappointment at that news, Spike tried to sweeten the pill. "But you can walk under water and you won't drown."

Brightening again, Xander asked, "Can I walk to Europe?"

Spike considered that one. "Might get a bit hungry. It's a long way."

"Can I climb Mount Everest, without oxygen."

"Same answer, pet. Not much to eat up there." He looked down at Xander's excited face. "You need to eat every couple of days, if you eat well. Every day, if you're on limited rations."

"Okay. Regular diet. Got it. But in spite of the super-powers... otherwise... am I still me?"

"You're still Xander, yes. In all the good ways. You have all his strengths, all his memories and all his feelings. But there's some things that'll be different. What do you feel for your parents?"

Xander grinned a feral grin. "Vengeance," he pronounced.

Spike smiled his approval. "And his friends?"

This time the boy hesitated and his answer was more tentative. "Pain. Fondness. Ownership."

"That's good. That's very good. And what do you feel for me?"

His face breaking into a blinding smile, Xander looked so human. "I love you!" he stated with absolute certainty.

"And you'll do as I say? You'll follow my orders and learn from me?"

"Yes, sire. Yes, I will."

"Good! So let's start on those lessons, eh?" He lowered his head and took Xander's mouth in another kiss and this time he didn't lose himself in heat, but revelled in the responsiveness and worship of a cool and oh so willing mouth.

Continued here.

Comments

[thismaz.livejournal.com]

And now you make me happy, two mornings in a row. Thank you.

One of the things I love about both reading and writing BtVS fic, is finding ways to justify or explain some of the strange incongruities and apparent contradictions of canon. I remember the days when a whole load of people were in outright denial about Dru being William's sire, but a commonly accepted explanation was found for the 'You were my sire, my Yoda' cry, which has now become fannon.

You are absolutely right about William's mother, although I am not sure I consciously considered her, when thinking it through. Thank you for that reminder, it makes me feel even happier with my theory.

More on Saturday, honest. I would love to write sooner, but things like work have come back into my life and are getting in the way of writing. *g*

[laazikaat.livejournal.com]

RL has a way of interfering *g*

I had Spike's mother firmly in mind as I read that chapter, and felt that as Spike was such a brand new fledge when he turned her, he was bound to do everything wrong.

You might not have intended it, but your theory really helped to put that in place, also the way he hadn't even realised back then that anything could go wrong with the process, in contrast to the present time, where he knew it could be a gamble, but was more informed.

Hope you can find time for more soon.

[thismaz.livejournal.com]

Spike was such a brand new fledge when he turned her
Yes, that is actually the thought that drove it, but I forgot about William's mother, consciously at least. Darla was 144 years dead when she turned Angelus, Angelus was 33 when he turned Penn and 107 or 108 when he turned Dru. Dru was about 19 or 20 when she turned William (dates come from peasant's site - History of the Aurelian Vampires (http://peasant.notanothersite.com/gate/history.html)) but I did have in my head the idea that a new fledge couldn't successfully turn someone, just as minions turning people tended to be less successful.

More at the week end, promise.