thismaz | Prompt 98 - Chance meetings

lit_gal has slowed down in her writing a little (I'd say, 'thank goodness' but I'd be lying, 'cause lets face it, it's just not possible to have too much

lit_gal) and I think I'll be able to get caught up, but then

swweeks goes crazy and starts posting extra chapters. *g* Oh, the trials and tribulations of a reader - so much to read, so little time *g* It's wonderful! Thanks guys.

Title: Chance meetings
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: 98-Cubic
At:

tamingthemuse
Rating: Older Teen/Adult
Summary: Part 37. Set during the summer before season 1, Xander's life is changed radically when vampires invade it. In the meantime Angel and Spike have their own, separate agendas.
Word Count: 1,700
Comments: Are greatly appreciated, loved and cherished.
Previous parts: In reverse order, in tags here In my memories.
Or, starting here with links to the next, at the end of each chapter.
Disclaimer: here.
Now beta'd by the wonderful

laazikaat

Warning (highlight the white area to see the warning text):

Vamp Xander story

dark_amia made a wall paper and she turned it into a banner for me. Lookee here -

Isn't it pretty?

37. Chance meetings

Tuesday 6 August

It was still early, the sun having only just set as they left the house, but the streets were quiet, even for a Tuesday evening. Of course, the better quality suburbs were always quiet. For all their denial of the truth about their town, those residents who had the means did seem to find lots of excuses for spending time elsewhere. An occasional car passed them as they made their way towards the cemetery and the Du Lac mausoleum, but there wasn't even a dog walker out on foot. Not that Spike was bothered by that. They had plenty of time, in spite of all they had to do and he was in no hurry to bring his temporary escape from the tangled emotions rife in the atmosphere at home to an end.

As he ambled along, Spike kept a surreptitious eye on Xander, noting the way he kept always one pace ahead of Jesse. He'd hardly spoken a word to the creature all week, but it wasn't because he was still angry. That emotion had burnt itself out quite thoroughly the night he'd punished Jesse for his own blindness. No, it appeared that Xander had finally accepted that the memories he'd been harbouring were indeed his alone. It was a lesson all children learnt, one way or another - that a minion was not capable of experiencing or understanding emotions, to the extent that they might as well be a separate species. The difference was that most children didn't have a personal stake in the results of the lesson.

For two days after Jesse had crawled back into the house and curled up under the kitchen table Spike had watched, ignoring Jesse but keeping a close eye on Xander's reactions. He'd been prepared for any response, from denial to dispatch. In the event, however, Xander neither attempted to feed the fool nor kill him. He just ignored him. And Jesse stayed where he was, hiding under his blanket, under the table.

The fact that Jesse couldn't heal without feeding hadn't bothered Spike, as long as he kept quiet, but eventually the need for someone to keep the house clean had led him to drag the creature out for something to eat. By the time they got home, Jesse was healed and able to resume his duties.

Since then, Jesse had been much more circumspect around Xander. Spike grinned to himself as he mused on the change in Jesse's demeanour. Maybe it wasn't so much Xander keeping a pace in front, maybe it was Jesse hanging a pace back. He'd see if it lasted with them both out together. It was going to be a busy night; once they had the cross they'd have to take it back to Dru, but then they'd need to go out again to restock the larder.

Up until now Spike had been content to pander to Angelus' squeamishness and he and the boys had eaten out, but with only a week to go, and with the Du Lac cross in the house, he didn't feel like taking risks. The fridge was stocked with an extra load of blood bags from Nigel Mears. Mears himself was already stashed in the pantry, but it was amazing how many humans you could fit into twenty-five cubic feet and still leave enough space to keep them breathing and fresh. Angel would just have to avoid the kitchen. He seemed to have perfected the art of denial in his dealings with his family, he'd just have to extend it a little further. Smiling to himself, Spike ran his mind over the best locations for a quick snatch and grab that wouldn't attract Luke's attention. They'd been careful to avoid any of the Court's regular hunting grounds and until after the ritual Spike intended to keep it that way. At least Ethan's spell had been a success. On the one occasion Spike had visited Willy's, the little grease ball had admitted that Luke was on the warpath, hunting high and low for them. Maybe another trip down to the docks? Or maybe that computer place out by the highway? They were still running two shifts and the early shift came on at five. Hang around in the parking lot and they'd have plenty of time to pick up three or four stragglers, stuff them in the boot of a spare car and get them home before dawn. Yeah, that sounded good, as long as they weren't too big.

Xander's hand on his shoulder interrupted his thoughts and brought him back to the present.

Ahead of them a small figure was approaching, a girl with a bag of groceries clasped loosely under one arm. Xander's head went up and he took a deep scent of the air before casting a wide grin in Spike's direction. "This'll be fun," he observed.

Slowly the gap between them and their prey closed. She seemed as oblivious of the dangers of her situation as any of the other sheep in town, but from Xander's expression Spike guessed this was not one of the nameless masses.

As they passed under the streetlight, she glanced up and, at last, she saw them. She stopped in her tracks, but it was not with alarm. "Xander!" she called. Hefting the shopping bag and hugging it to her chest she stumbled into a trot. "Jesse!" As she got nearer she was forced to slow down, the bag threatening to spill its contents, but she kept talking. "Thank goodness!" she gasped. "Where've you been?" A few short yards away she came to a halt, her expression suddenly horrified. Spike wondered if she'd somehow sensed what they were, but she didn't appear to be scared of them. Something else then. "Oh my god!" she gasped. Then, plastering a smile on her face and visibly struggling to calm down, she continued, "I'm so glad to see you. The police! They came to my house yesterday." Glancing from one to the other, she ignored Spike. "Have you been out of town?" she asked, but carried on, not waiting for an answer, "Xander, have you been home? Because... because... Oh Xander, I have some awful news. I was so worried."

Spike looked her up and down. Sort of sweet, he thought. Small, young, and dressed even younger with no style or care for her appearance, but there was a hint of steel under the little girl exterior. He interrupted her disjointed remarks, "And you'd be Willow, right?"

She barely spared him a glance "Yes," she agreed. "I'm their friend." Concentrating all her attention on Xander she kept talking, angry now and beginning to scold. "You should have called. Told me, before you went running off on a road trip. Xander..." Xander opened his mouth, but she ploughed on, over the top of whatever he was going to say, "I've been so scared. I didn't believe them, when they... I don't... I mean.." She juggled the bag, apparently trying to get it into a hold that would allow her to reach out to him. Jesse took a step forward to stand next to Xander's shoulder and she grasped the distraction gratefully. "Jesse! Your parents have been so worried. I called them today and they said you'd run off, or something. That's where I'm going now." Giving up on getting an easier grip of the bag, she just stood there, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. "But if they know you're back." She paused to take a breath. "Except, you can't have gone there yet. Because there is no way they'd let you out of their sight. They've been so scared." Her shoulders slumped and suddenly she sounded defeated. "Where have you been?" she pleaded. "The police said Xander's parents had been dead for maybe two weeks. And they wanted to talk to both of you." She stopped, one hand flying to her mouth. "Oh God!" She turned to Xander. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to say that. I meant... I mean..." She took a deep breath. as if gathering her courage. "But they are, Xander. They're dead. Both of them. Murdered. I'm so, so sorry."

Xander cocked his head thoughtfully. "Don't be," he said. "I know. I was there."

Willow's eyes opened as wide as saucers and she took surprised step backwards, away from them. "What are you saying? That's what the police... No! I don't believe you." But she kept backing up.

Xander's smile was both mischievous and slightly malicious as he advanced towards her with leisurely grace, a big cat, still more interested in playing with his food than impatient for the kill. "Believe it, Wills," he said. "They cried."

The sound of pounding footsteps caused Spike to look around and a voice called out, "You there!" as a man ran towards them. The bloody watcher, cross held out ahead of him, pelted across the street and jumped between the girl and Xander. "Get behind me," he ordered.

Xander growled. "Aw, swell. It's the White Hat," he said, his voice full of disgust. Flinching back from the cross shoved towards them, he and Jesse both slipped into gameface.

Meanwhile Willow was staring at the watcher uncomprehending. "What?" she asked, apparently still too shocked to take in what was happening. Not getting an answer from the watcher, who was concentrating of the trio in front of him, she turned back to Xander. "Oh my god!" she gasped. "What? What's happened? What's wrong with your faces?"

The watcher reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her away from them. "Get behind me and stay there!" he ordered, his voice harsh with fear and determination. Willow did as she was told. "Now back up, slowly."

"What? But..."

"Just do it! I promise, I'll explain when we get away from these, um..." he seemed to flounder for a moment, "bad men," he finished.

Spike almost laughed out loud. Bad men? How mealy-mouthed. But the watcher, mealy-mouthed or not, was digging in his pocket and then he had two crosses out and it was like a repeat of the last time they'd met.

Watching Xander and Jesse pull back another step, Spike considered making an issue of it. But in spite of his earlier dawdling, he still needed to get the Du Lac cross and, he figured, if the watcher was busy dealing with a hysterical teenager there was no danger they'd stumble over him in Restfield. Allowing his own face to slip into its true form, he snarled at the watcher, turned on his heel and strode away. The boys hesitated for only a moment, before he heard them turn too and hurry to catch up with him. At the corner of the street he looked back. The watcher and the girl were gone.

Note - just to show I did the sums, 25 cubic feet is basically 2 by 2 by 6 - if Spike wraps them up tightly, with lots of gaffer tape, I figured he could get four or five happy meals on legs into a pantry that size. *g*

Continued here.