Bewitched, Chapter 29/37
Jan. 30th, 2010 11:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thismazTitle: Bewitched, Chapter 29/37
Pairing: S/X. I promise it will get back there... eventually.
Rating: This chapter PG-13
Summary: Valentine's Day arrived and Dru dipped her finger in the brew, giving it a stir. That was two years ago and the fall-out is still falling.
Word Count: 5,600
Betaed by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sparrow2000 and DJ, for which, many thanks. Thanks also to Sparrow for conflabbing on plot twists and forms.
Comments: Are greatly appreciated, loved and cherished.
Disclaimer: here.
The prologue is here, with a link to the other chapters, or you can find the whole thing, in reverse order, in tags, or in the correct order, in memories. There's a menu of links on the right hand side of my main journal page.
If you were reading this story before it went on hiatus, there is a recap post here with a link to chapter 28.
Many thanks tokatekat1010 for the original manip which you can find here.
Chapter 29
Xander was aware that he was bouncing. He opened Giles' front door, walked in and leaned back against it to push it closed, pulling his right arm out of his jacket sleeve as he did so. He’d already opened his mouth before he noticed that Giles was on the phone.
"- can't even cry. The gentlemen are coming by," Giles was saying. Xander cut off his greeting and waited to see what kind of weird had Giles reciting rhymes. "Okay, yes, I’ve got it. And that's all? Yes, it sounds vaguely familiar, like a nursery rhyme." He looked up at Xander and gave a nod, acknowledging his arrival. "You're sure it's nothing you heard when you were a child?" he asked, turning his attention back to his conversation and the note pad under his hand. "Alright. Well it could definitely be one of your prophetic dreams, or it could just be the eternal mystery that is your brain. Yes, I'll check it out and... Yes, I'll let you know if I find something. Alright. Bye. Yes, bye." He put the phone down and gave Xander a brief smile, but turned away towards the other side of the room. "Spike," he said, "have you heard of a group called the Gentlemen?"
Spike's head appeared over the back of the sofa. "Group of what?"
"The Gentlemen."
"No."
"You’re certain?"
"Yes, I'm certain. Never heard of them. Why?" Spike stood up and Xander saw that he was holding a cereal bowl and a spoon. He raised the bowl up under his chin and shovelled what looked like blood drenched wheat-a-bits into his mouth as he walked over to the desk.
"Oh, it's probably nothing."
"Right then." Spike turned around and wandered back to the sofa to finish his breakfast, or lunch, or whatever meal was appropriate for a vampire at four o'clock in the afternoon.
Turning to Xander, Giles smiled again. "How did it go?" he asked.
"I got the job."
"Oh, well done. I knew you could do it. They told you immediately?"
"Yeah. Joe Wheeler, the foreman, he remembered me. I never even knew he'd seen me, but he asked if I was the guy who went to rescue the man who fell down the hole."
Giles nodded and went through into the kitchen. "I'm impressed" he said when he was once more in sight. Reaching up above the breakfast bar he took down a couple of mugs from the shelf. "A man who notices and remembers things like that, is probably a good man to work for.”
Laughing nervously at the memory, Xander shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “He said he noticed stuff. He made it sound more like a threat.”
Giles waved that concern away. “When do you start?” he asked.
"Well, it's Friday today, so, Monday. 7am."
"Congratulations, Xander."
"Thanks.” During the slightly awkward silence that followed, Xander cast around for something else to say. He slid onto one of the bar stools and leant his elbows on the counter while Giles turned to the other side of the kitchen to make tea. “So what's going on here?" he asked. "Was that Buffy?"
Giles glanced over his shoulder. "Yes. A dream. Maybe a slayer vision, but, with luck, it's probably nothing. It doesn’t make a lot of sense." He poured boiling water into the teapot and brought it over to the breakfast bar, dragged the mugs closer and rearranged the position of the sugar bowl. Xander could swear he was actually fidgeting. After a few minutes he cleared his throat and said, "Umm, but there is something I wanted to ask you."
If the fidgeting was not enough to put Xander on alert, the tone of Giles' voice, was. "Yeah?" he asked cautiously.
Giles crossed his arms. "Yes, um, well." His took a deep breath and his next words came out in a rush. "I'm sorry, but I need you to take Spike for a few days."
So not what Xander had expected. "What?" he asked, sitting up straight on his stool. That didn't seem dramatic enough, so he stood up, took a half step back and spread his arms. "I mean, What?"
His question was echoed by Spike, whose head reappeared over the back of the sofa. "I'm not staying with him!" he protested.
Giles ignored Spike and concentrated his appeal on Xander. "I have a friend who's coming to town and I'd like us to be alone."
As if saying the words slowly would change their meaning, Xander asked, "And you want me to take him?"
"Well, we can't just let him loose and it's not as if he's a danger to anyone.” Giles shrugged, but he also looked embarrassed. “He's rather pathetic really."
That had Spike on his feet, empty cereal bowl slamming down on the coffee table. "Hey!"
Giles threw him a glance. "Annoying," he added, "but not a threat anymore."
Refusing to be distracted, Xander interrupted before Spike could launch into a defence of his big bad credentials. "So, why can't we let him loose? If he's not a danger."
"Good point," Spike agreed. "Yeah, why?"
"Because he still has information about the commandos,” Giles explained. He looked at Spike again, more appraisingly. “Although he might not realise it. We need to keep him alive, at least until we know everything he knows."
Spike snorted. "Great incentive for me to co-operate, Watcher. Well done,” he said.
Giles ignored the interruption. "Given his condition," he finished, "if we let him go now, he'll probably just get recaptured, or killed, and, unfortunately, we need him. But..." he trailed off and just looked at Xander.
Xander tried to picture Giles having Spike in his home while he had a girlfriend over. It wasn't, he admitted to himself, as if Spike would be interrupting any love action on Xander's part. Xander's love life was in the doldrums. It was beyond that, it had been washed up on the shore and baked dry in the sun, ever since Oxnard. But did he want Spike staying with him? He looked over at Spike, who was still standing by the coffee table, watching Xander. His face was unreadable. Spike. In his apartment. There. It didn't feel like a good idea.
Spike turned away and sat down in the chair by the coffee table, put his elbows on his knees and dropped his head in his hands. "Oh shit," he groaned.
Xander looked back at Giles. “Alright," he said. "I'll take him." He watched Giles breathe out and turn to pour tea into two mugs. "But only for the weekend and you owe me big-time, Giles."
With a smile, Giles inclined his head. "I recognise that. Thank you."
Looking at his watch, Xander added, "But I'm not having him loose in my place while I'm out. I'll swing by on the way home, after work. I have to tell Mr Danato I won't be working after tonight." He picked up his jacket. "Thanks for the offer of the tea, but I'd better go."
Spike lifted his head out of his hands and looked over at them. "Shame to see it go to waste," he said. "Gi's it here, I'll have it. Think I need it more than the boy, anyway."
*****
Xander stacked the last of his breakfast dishes on the drainer before going to bed. Straightening up, he looking across the breakfast bar into the living room.
Spike had been surprisingly compliant when Xander picked him up. He didn't even protest, beyond one attempt to shove Xander away which ended in a stifled scream of pain, when Xander tied him up in the recliner chair.
There was no denying that having Spike in his power was a rush.
Xander hadn’t thought about Spike in years. Not thought, thought. And when he had thought, his feelings had been both powerful and mixed. The memory of the weeks that Spike had stalked him, so that he was virtually confined under house arrest, of living with the fear that one evening his mom or dad might answer a knock at the door and invite the handsome young man in, the awful weeks when Spike disappeared and Xander didn’t know where he was – whether he was watching or not - those were the memories that had made him pull the rope a little bit tighter, add another loop around Spike’s chest and make sure the knot was out of reach at the back of the chair.
And when Spike was petulant and angry, as he'd been the day before, it was easy to ignore the memories of a hotel room and a generous lover (and after a few flings with guys his own age, after Larry, Xander knew what selfish was) who focused on him, in spite of not being able to feel anything there himself.
Co-operative Spike was more difficult. While he didn't trust him any further than he could throw him, in a small, unacknowledged corner of his mind, Xander regretted his outburst in Giles' bathroom.
“Dunno why I have to be tied up,” Spike complained.
On the other hand, the major part of his mind was quite happy with the arrangement as it stood. “And leave you loose while I’m asleep? No way.”
Spike tilted his head to consider Xander and sneered, “Like I'd bite you.”
“You can’t," Xander replied with some smugness. "I’m not worried about that.”
Narrowing his eyes, Spike asked, “What then?”
Xander walked into the living room and looked down at his charge. He grinned. “Your idea of interior decoration,” he said.
Spike's frown deepened, but strangely his body seemed to relax and he stopped testing his bonds. However, when he spoke there was a definite snap in his voice. “You know nothing about my tastes,” he said.
Xander nodded. “But I’ve seen your dress sense.”
With a sneer, Spike made a show of looking Xander up and down. “And I’ve seen yours,” he replied.
That simply made Xander grin wider. He might not have a huge wardrobe, but he knew that what he had was okay. When he first came out, in senior year, Buffy made it her mission to improve his dress sense, his and Larry's. She'd dragged them around the mall, one terrible Saturday afternoon, until they'd both bought a few new clothes, just to pacify her. After that she shared her magazines with him, as if by admitting to being gay, he necessarily had to be interested. In spite of himself, he'd absorbed some of the basic principles. Looking down at his plain brown t-shirt and admittedly rather worn blue jeans, Xander knew that although he'd never be a fashion plate, he was also not an embarrassment to his friends. "That the best you can do?" he asked, turning away and heading for his bedroom.
Behind him there was silence, until he reached the door, then Spike called out, “Oh Xander, don't you care about me?”
Turning to look back at him, Xander sighed. Quite suddenly he was tired. “You know what, Spike?" he asked. "Why don't you just shut up?”
“Xaaannnder.”
“No! Just shut up! I'm going to bed and it doesn't matter how loud you shout. These walls are thick, so I won't hear you and nor will anyone else.” He left before Spike could say anything more, retreating to his room and closing the door.
Leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor, he climbed into bed and buried himself under the covers.
*****
It took a while for Xander to catch on the next morning. He woke up, washed, dressed and wandered through the living room to the kitchen, only nodding at Spike in passing. Spike nodded back. Xander was grateful for the quiet.
In the kitchen he made coffee and it wasn't until he’d pulled down a mug, got a carton of blood out of the fridge and turned to shout a question across the room to Spike that he realised.
Trying to mime a conversation with Spike was both remarkably easy and intensely frustrating. However, his accusation that the loss of his voice was Spike's fault was never supposed to be serious; he'd simply hoped that Spike knew what was going on.
Picking up the living room telephone extension, he dialled Buffy and Willow’s room. It wasn’t until he heard it pick up that he realised how stupid that was.
Spike was looking at him and his opinion of Xander's actions was clear from his expression. Thankfully, panic had come to Xander's rescue as often as it had got him into trouble. He pulled the handset away from his ear and tapped on it a number of times with his fingernail. Spike’s expression shifted from derisive to mildly impressed. Spike obviously didn’t know Morse code. Unfortunately, neither did Buffy nor Xander.
Giving a few more taps, Xander paused, as if listening to a reply, and then put the phone down. He grabbed his message pad and scribbled “I’m going to Giles' place.”
Spike raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly down at the ropes still tight around his chest and arms. Xander considered him, letting him stew for a while, then went and undid the knot at the back of the chair and the one holding his left arm. Spike could manage the rest himself. He left without waiting to see if Spike thanked him. He figured it would be a waste of time.
The town was eerily quiet, as if the loss of human voices had dulled all the other sounds. The few people who were out were mostly wandering around looking lost. There were very few cars, but Xander found that he was driving more slowly than usual, his eyes constantly drawn to further evidence that the phenomenon was city-wide. On a street corner he spotted what looked like a prayer meeting. Meanwhile other people decided to cope by other means - the liquor store was open early and seemed to be doing brisk business. As far as Xander could see, everything else appeared to be closed.
The door to Giles' apartment was opened by a strange woman who looked at him blankly, until he mouthed Giles' name, upon which she shrugged and stepped back to allow him in.
Inside, Giles was sitting at his desk and it was obvious that he was feeling harassed. He had books spread out everywhere, even on the floor. When Xander waved and raised his brows, he shook his head before going back to his reading.
Buffy and Willow arrived shortly after Xander and came armed with whiteboards and marker pens, which made communication easier than scribbling messages on paper and passing them around.
The television had been moved back into the living room and the local news confirmed that the situation was affecting the whole of Sunnydale, but not the whole state and that the army had put up a cordon around the town to isolate it and prevent the spread of the infection. It looked like the cover-up was official. Xander wondered if it was the City Council or the military who had come up with the lame excuse they were peddling.
They spent the day searching fruitlessly through Giles' books. Olivia, Giles' lady friend, had seen something from the window in the night. She drew it from memory and if she was as good an artist as the picture suggested, there was definitely something creepy going on. She also tried to help with the research for a while, but the necessity of laboriously writing down all instructions and questions made it slow work. After two hours she gave up and retreated to the kitchen to make tea. Buffy wrote out more of the details of her dream, drawing pictures in places, although the people all looked like the same stick figure to Xander, and Xander dragged the boxed up books out of the spare bedroom, in case they contained anything useful. No such luck, as they confirmed four hours later.
Eventually, Giles pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He picked up one of the whiteboards. "You should all go home. Get some rest. Meet at UCSD campus tomorrow - try the library there," he wrote.
Buffy shook her head and took the board from him, wiped it clean and wrote, "Patrol!"
Giles looked at her thoughtfully and then gave a tired nod of agreement. She replied with a lopsided grin and grabbed her coat. She pointed at Willow and with hand signals made it clear that she would walk her home first. When she turned to Xander, he mimed driving and pointed at both of them. Buffy nodded.
After dropping Willow and Buffy at the campus, Xander realised he was reluctant to go home. Going back to Giles' was out, so he drove around town. The centre looked much as it had that morning, at first, only with more trash lying around. On closer inspection, though, he noticed the glass strewn over the sidewalk and rounding the corner onto Main Street, he saw looting in progress. He wasn't tempted to stop and interfere. Twenty yards further on, the electronics shop had been completely cleaned out. When he passed the second car on fire he decided that even if the only thing waiting for him at home was a resentful vampire, he would be better off the streets. Turning right at the broken lights by the town hall, he hoped he had enough food at home to make a meal.
The silence in the apartment was unnerving, oppressively solid, in spite of the TV playing. Spike looked up when Xander walked in and they stared at each other. Spike’s eyes were an amazing shade of blue. Xander shook himself and pointed at the TV, then lifted his hands and shoulders in a questioning shrug. Spike's lips quirked but he merely raised a sceptical eyebrow and shook his head. Xander scowled and flipped him off which made Spike laugh silently. It was communication of a sort, although Xander wished he'd thought to borrow one of the whiteboards. Spike turned back to the TV while Xander headed to the kitchen.
The only thing he appeared to have in his fridge was blood, but he drew the line miles short of sharing Spike's supper. After a hunt through his cupboards, refried beans, tinned tuna and creamed corn made an interesting stew, and by the time he'd emptied it all into a pan and heated it up, he was hungry enough not to care.
Spike nodded when Xander passed him a heated mug of blood, but seemed disinclined for even the limited conversation that notes or mime allowed, so Xander was left with nothing to do but think. He ate in the kitchen then joined Spike on the sofa to watch TV, passing him a beer as he sat down. The news was still telling the same story - an epidemic of Laryngitis. Xander happened to glance across at Spike just after the anchor repeated the excuse. Spike gave a snort of disgust and Xander grinned. By mutual and silent consent they decided that watching the news was worse than useless so Xander flipped channels until he found a movie, coming in just in time to catch a twenty car pile-up. It was a surprisingly restful evening.
The next day started well. The town had settled into a dull state of apathy, far preferable to the angry vandalism of the day before. The presence of the army on the streets helped with that. Giles had also found the cause of the threat. His slideshow turned out to be the high point, however. UC Sunnydale library was open and there were a surprising number of students at work, but it provided no clues as to how Buffy could get her voice back and so defeat The Gentlemen.
By the end of the day, Xander was tired and wired. And hungry. On the way home he swung by Dino's Pizza Place and was relieved to see that Mr Donato was open for business. He bought an extra large Mega Meat and an extra large BBQ Chicken & Bacon, figuring that now was a time to have stores in reserve. Food would also give him and Spike something to focus on, other than the silence.
The silence created an atmosphere of companionable solidarity and when he'd gone to bed the previous night, his dreams had been full of images of Spike that made him uncomfortable. He really didn't want to spend another evening silently communing on the sofa. To that end, once they'd eaten, he wrote Spike a note. "I'm going out. Patrol with Buffy. Want to come?"
Spike seemed to take forever to read it and then looked up at Xander. "Okay," he mouthed, his lips twisting into a wry smile.
Buffy didn't appear to be very pleased to see them, but since she couldn't say anything, she couldn't send them away. She marched off and they followed, side by side. Xander shot a questioning glance at Spike, which he replied to with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.
They were walking down a quiet residential street when Xander caught movement from the corner of his eye. He turned and spotted one of the creatures Olivia had drawn. It glided along, just as Giles had said, is if on rollers. Breaking into a run, he caught up with Buffy. She swung around at the sound of his footsteps and he pointed. A moment later, he was staggering back from her shove, straight into Spike's arms. His silent yell of indignation was cut short when a strange creature, like a black and white movie Quasimodo, jumped out of the bushes, right where he'd been standing, and tackled her. Spike's arms were tight around his waist, preventing him from going to her aid, in spite of his struggles.
Buffy kicked the creature to the ground but a second one appeared from nowhere, behind her, and grabbed her around the waist with both arms, just as Spike had grabbed Xander. She raised her arm and jabbed her elbow back into its face and, when it staggered, pulled herself free, swinging around to bury her fist in its gut.
Xander tried to make the same move, but Spike was too fast, grabbing his wrists to hold them still.
The creature Buffy had punched, reeled backwards and tripped over a tree root, landing on its back with its legs in the air. Almost before it had hit the ground, the first one was back on its feet and Buffy ducked under a swinging punch. She placed her hands on the ground and kicked back with both feet as she cart-wheeled past, hitting the creature in its chest and knocking it into a tree. Spike dragged Xander out of range. On her feet once more, Buffy kicked again, catching the creature in the leg with the sole of her foot and there was a sharp snapping sound. It went down, writhing and hugging its shin. Buffy ran forward and brought her foot down hard on its neck. She didn't stay to make sure it was dead. There was no need. Instead she turned on the spot, looking for the other one.
Xander looked around too and saw it running away. Wrenching his arms free of Spike's hold, he waved his arms above his head to catch Buffy's eye and, ignoring her raised eyebrows at the sight of him locked in Spike's embrace, pointed down the street at the fleeing creature. She nodded and took off after it, while Spike finally let Xander go.
He didn't stop to yell at Spike; it would have done no good. He simply glared at him and set off after Buffy. Spike's footsteps sounded behind him and in less than twenty yards, Spike had caught up and was running by his side.
They rounded a street corner together and caught sight of Buffy about fifty yards in front of them. She was heading straight for the abandoned church with the clock tower. It loomed at the end of the dark street, looking as innocent as ever except for the fact that there was a light in the tower and the fluttering of shadows on the slats over the windows indicated movement inside. Xander quickened his pace, Spike matching him stride for stride.
By the time they reached the church there was no sign of Buffy, but there was a hole in the wall where a boarded up window had been and the sound of crashing coming from inside. Xander edged up to the hole and peered cautiously in, Spike crowding close behind him. Before his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, silence fell, shocking in its suddenness. In alarm, Xander scrambled over the lip of the hole, where he tripped over a ladder that was lying on the ground covered by a dirty tarp, and fell. Nothing attacked him and he took a moment to catch his breath before rolling over onto his back and lifting his head.
It was easier to see now that he was inside too. Buffy was standing in the middle of the room facing off with a guy Xander thought he recognised, but he'd never seen him dressed like a soldier before and he'd certainly never seen a gun like the one the guy was holding. They were both frozen, staring at each other, him with his weird blaster gun pointed at Buffy's chest, her with her one-handed crossbow cocked and ready to fire a bolt right through his eye. It looked like neither of them had stirred at Xander's noisy entrance.
When Xander scrambled to his feet, they at last moved. Slowly they both swung around to face him and he raised his right hand in a nervous wave. Breaking eye contact seemed to have snapped them out of whatever trance they had fallen into, which was lucky because at that moment a Quasimodos came leaping and bounding across the room. Buffy ducked, the soldier ducked and Xander threw himself to the ground. The creature went over his head, propelled by one of Buffy's feet and crashed into the wall. Buffy caught Xander's eye and shrugged an apologetic "Sorry" at him. He grinned back. The soldier fired his weapon at the creature as it flailed on the floor and it collapsed in a crackle of tame lightning. Xander got to his feet and looked around.
Another four of the creatures were scattered around the room. Two had obviously been brought down by arrows from Buffy's crossbow. He assumed that the soldier had accounted for the others. Against the wall on the far side of the room, a flight of stairs led up to a trapdoor in the ceiling. He pointed, trying to look his question and Buffy nodded. She headed in that direction, the soldier at her heels.
Xander cast a last look back at the hole in the wall and saw Spike gesturing to him to come out. He hesitated but shook his head. Spike started to climb in himself and Xander rushed over to stop him. "Are you crazy?" he mouthed, pointing the way Buffy had gone, miming holding a rifle and finally standing straight and sketching a salute before pointing at the stairs again. "Commando guy!"
Spike nodded his understanding and indicated that Xander should therefore come outside.
Xander shook his head. "I'll be careful," he mouthed, as clearly as he could. Spike shook his head again and moved, as if to clamber through the hole into the church. "No," Xander mouthed, physically bundling him back out. "Stay there," he ordered, pointing emphatically at the ground outside.
Turning away, he crept over to the stairs and edged his way up, pausing when his head was level with the upper floor. A scraping sound behind him made him turn, foot raised, ready to kick his attacker back down the stairs. It was Spike. Xander took a deep breath and put his foot back down on the step. Above them, a crash sent plaster dust cascading down to the floor below.
Waving Spike to stay back, Xander turned towards the room above and looked over the edge of the trapdoor. There was a table in the centre of the room next to the mechanism of the clock, ropes hung everywhere and suspended from the ceiling above them was a huge bell.
All of that, he took in with a single glance, because his eyes were caught by the sight of Buffy being held by three of the Quasimodo creatures. Two were holding on to her upper arms and the third was almost wrapped around her legs. She was jerking at their grip, but was apparently unable to free herself. A pair of scarecrow skeletons of Gentlemen floated towards her, scalpels in outstretched hands.
Xander edged up the last few stairs, but before he could rush to her rescue, Buffy caught his eye and jerked her head towards the table, miming the opening and closing of an oyster with her hands. Xander turned to look, searching the objects on the table: big jars with hearts in them, scraps of wood and debris, and a box. It looked like the one Buffy had drawn, from her dream. He glanced back at her and nodded, just as a burst of lightning hit one of the Gentlemen and he staggered. Another burst caught the Quasimodo holding Buffy's left arm. When it was redirected at the one around her legs she was finally able to wrench herself free. She kicked the Quasimodo at her feet at the same time as punching the one who still held her right arm. Then she swung around, sending him flying through the air, to crash into the wall. The Gentlemen stopped their advance, waiting.
For a moment, Xander thought the fight was as good as over. The Gentlemen didn't seem inclined to join in the actual fisticuffs and although scary, they looked decidedly snapable. But the Quasimodos were tough. Two of them rolled back onto their feet and swarmed her, while the third, and another Xander hadn't spotted before, turned on the soldier who, Xander now saw, was lying propped against the wall, as if he'd been thrown there, with his gun pointing into the room.
Xander took a deep breath and sprang out of his hiding place. He felt Spike's hand grab at the cuff of his jeans, but he obviously missed, because Xander was in the room, on his feet and running for the table. All around him there were crashes and bodies flying as he dodged and wove his way across the few yards to his target. He made it and picking up one of the jars containing a heart, brought it down on top of the box with all the weight of his arm and all the force of his fear and desperation.
He staggered back and Buffy began to scream. It went on and on, while the Gentlemen stood frozen and stared at her. Then the Gentlemen started to shake and a moment later their heads exploded with a sound like boiling mud. The Quasimodos sank to the floor and Xander completed his stagger and fell on his butt.
When he got himself over onto his hands and knees, he looked around and saw Buffy sitting on the floor by the clock mechanism. He crawled over to her. She gave him a tired smile and together they helped each other to their feet. For a moment they simply stood with their arms around each other, providing mutual support, until the soldier coughed to attract their attention. Xander looked at him over Buffy's shoulder, back down at Buffy and back at the soldier's impatient face. He began to laugh. Buffy glanced around, looked up at Xander and then she was laughing too. Clinging to each other they helped each other across to the stairs with the soldier trailing behind. When they reached the room below, Spike was gone.
Much later, after they'd escaped the soldier (Riley, Buffy called him) who appeared torn between concern that they'd identified him and his need to organise a clean-up crew, after they had reported back to Giles and after he'd delivered Buffy back to the campus, Xander finally made it home. It was 2am on Monday morning and he started work in five hours.
He dragged himself up the stairs, opened his front door and walked into his apartment. It was empty. The living room, kitchen area, bathroom - all empty. The doors onto the balcony were open, but there was no one out there. He even looked in his own bedroom, but there was no sign of Spike.
Wondering at the cold, heavy feeling in his lower chest, Xander went back to the kitchen. Even knowing that Spike was gone, he kept glancing around, as if Spike would suddenly reappear out of thin air. His eyes fell on the closed door to the spare bedroom and the ache in his chest sharpened. Hurrying over, he threw open the door. The ache faded slowly as he took in the sight of Spike lying on a nest of his spare blankets and sheets, in the far corner of the room.
Xander leant against the door jam and Spike turned his head. "Got home safe, then," he observed.
"Yeah. Going to bed now. Got to get up in four hours to start my new job."
"Bugger off then," Spike said.
Xander grinned and went.
Note: Some bits of dialogue borrowed and adapted from episode 4.10, Hush.
Chapter 30
Pairing: S/X. I promise it will get back there... eventually.
Rating: This chapter PG-13
Summary: Valentine's Day arrived and Dru dipped her finger in the brew, giving it a stir. That was two years ago and the fall-out is still falling.
Word Count: 5,600
Betaed by
sparrow2000 and DJ, for which, many thanks. Thanks also to Sparrow for conflabbing on plot twists and forms.Comments: Are greatly appreciated, loved and cherished.
Disclaimer: here.
The prologue is here, with a link to the other chapters, or you can find the whole thing, in reverse order, in tags, or in the correct order, in memories. There's a menu of links on the right hand side of my main journal page.
If you were reading this story before it went on hiatus, there is a recap post here with a link to chapter 28.
Many thanks to
katekat1010 for the original manip which you can find here.Chapter 29
Xander was aware that he was bouncing. He opened Giles' front door, walked in and leaned back against it to push it closed, pulling his right arm out of his jacket sleeve as he did so. He’d already opened his mouth before he noticed that Giles was on the phone.
"- can't even cry. The gentlemen are coming by," Giles was saying. Xander cut off his greeting and waited to see what kind of weird had Giles reciting rhymes. "Okay, yes, I’ve got it. And that's all? Yes, it sounds vaguely familiar, like a nursery rhyme." He looked up at Xander and gave a nod, acknowledging his arrival. "You're sure it's nothing you heard when you were a child?" he asked, turning his attention back to his conversation and the note pad under his hand. "Alright. Well it could definitely be one of your prophetic dreams, or it could just be the eternal mystery that is your brain. Yes, I'll check it out and... Yes, I'll let you know if I find something. Alright. Bye. Yes, bye." He put the phone down and gave Xander a brief smile, but turned away towards the other side of the room. "Spike," he said, "have you heard of a group called the Gentlemen?"
Spike's head appeared over the back of the sofa. "Group of what?"
"The Gentlemen."
"No."
"You’re certain?"
"Yes, I'm certain. Never heard of them. Why?" Spike stood up and Xander saw that he was holding a cereal bowl and a spoon. He raised the bowl up under his chin and shovelled what looked like blood drenched wheat-a-bits into his mouth as he walked over to the desk.
"Oh, it's probably nothing."
"Right then." Spike turned around and wandered back to the sofa to finish his breakfast, or lunch, or whatever meal was appropriate for a vampire at four o'clock in the afternoon.
Turning to Xander, Giles smiled again. "How did it go?" he asked.
"I got the job."
"Oh, well done. I knew you could do it. They told you immediately?"
"Yeah. Joe Wheeler, the foreman, he remembered me. I never even knew he'd seen me, but he asked if I was the guy who went to rescue the man who fell down the hole."
Giles nodded and went through into the kitchen. "I'm impressed" he said when he was once more in sight. Reaching up above the breakfast bar he took down a couple of mugs from the shelf. "A man who notices and remembers things like that, is probably a good man to work for.”
Laughing nervously at the memory, Xander shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “He said he noticed stuff. He made it sound more like a threat.”
Giles waved that concern away. “When do you start?” he asked.
"Well, it's Friday today, so, Monday. 7am."
"Congratulations, Xander."
"Thanks.” During the slightly awkward silence that followed, Xander cast around for something else to say. He slid onto one of the bar stools and leant his elbows on the counter while Giles turned to the other side of the kitchen to make tea. “So what's going on here?" he asked. "Was that Buffy?"
Giles glanced over his shoulder. "Yes. A dream. Maybe a slayer vision, but, with luck, it's probably nothing. It doesn’t make a lot of sense." He poured boiling water into the teapot and brought it over to the breakfast bar, dragged the mugs closer and rearranged the position of the sugar bowl. Xander could swear he was actually fidgeting. After a few minutes he cleared his throat and said, "Umm, but there is something I wanted to ask you."
If the fidgeting was not enough to put Xander on alert, the tone of Giles' voice, was. "Yeah?" he asked cautiously.
Giles crossed his arms. "Yes, um, well." His took a deep breath and his next words came out in a rush. "I'm sorry, but I need you to take Spike for a few days."
So not what Xander had expected. "What?" he asked, sitting up straight on his stool. That didn't seem dramatic enough, so he stood up, took a half step back and spread his arms. "I mean, What?"
His question was echoed by Spike, whose head reappeared over the back of the sofa. "I'm not staying with him!" he protested.
Giles ignored Spike and concentrated his appeal on Xander. "I have a friend who's coming to town and I'd like us to be alone."
As if saying the words slowly would change their meaning, Xander asked, "And you want me to take him?"
"Well, we can't just let him loose and it's not as if he's a danger to anyone.” Giles shrugged, but he also looked embarrassed. “He's rather pathetic really."
That had Spike on his feet, empty cereal bowl slamming down on the coffee table. "Hey!"
Giles threw him a glance. "Annoying," he added, "but not a threat anymore."
Refusing to be distracted, Xander interrupted before Spike could launch into a defence of his big bad credentials. "So, why can't we let him loose? If he's not a danger."
"Good point," Spike agreed. "Yeah, why?"
"Because he still has information about the commandos,” Giles explained. He looked at Spike again, more appraisingly. “Although he might not realise it. We need to keep him alive, at least until we know everything he knows."
Spike snorted. "Great incentive for me to co-operate, Watcher. Well done,” he said.
Giles ignored the interruption. "Given his condition," he finished, "if we let him go now, he'll probably just get recaptured, or killed, and, unfortunately, we need him. But..." he trailed off and just looked at Xander.
Xander tried to picture Giles having Spike in his home while he had a girlfriend over. It wasn't, he admitted to himself, as if Spike would be interrupting any love action on Xander's part. Xander's love life was in the doldrums. It was beyond that, it had been washed up on the shore and baked dry in the sun, ever since Oxnard. But did he want Spike staying with him? He looked over at Spike, who was still standing by the coffee table, watching Xander. His face was unreadable. Spike. In his apartment. There. It didn't feel like a good idea.
Spike turned away and sat down in the chair by the coffee table, put his elbows on his knees and dropped his head in his hands. "Oh shit," he groaned.
Xander looked back at Giles. “Alright," he said. "I'll take him." He watched Giles breathe out and turn to pour tea into two mugs. "But only for the weekend and you owe me big-time, Giles."
With a smile, Giles inclined his head. "I recognise that. Thank you."
Looking at his watch, Xander added, "But I'm not having him loose in my place while I'm out. I'll swing by on the way home, after work. I have to tell Mr Danato I won't be working after tonight." He picked up his jacket. "Thanks for the offer of the tea, but I'd better go."
Spike lifted his head out of his hands and looked over at them. "Shame to see it go to waste," he said. "Gi's it here, I'll have it. Think I need it more than the boy, anyway."
*****
Xander stacked the last of his breakfast dishes on the drainer before going to bed. Straightening up, he looking across the breakfast bar into the living room.
Spike had been surprisingly compliant when Xander picked him up. He didn't even protest, beyond one attempt to shove Xander away which ended in a stifled scream of pain, when Xander tied him up in the recliner chair.
There was no denying that having Spike in his power was a rush.
Xander hadn’t thought about Spike in years. Not thought, thought. And when he had thought, his feelings had been both powerful and mixed. The memory of the weeks that Spike had stalked him, so that he was virtually confined under house arrest, of living with the fear that one evening his mom or dad might answer a knock at the door and invite the handsome young man in, the awful weeks when Spike disappeared and Xander didn’t know where he was – whether he was watching or not - those were the memories that had made him pull the rope a little bit tighter, add another loop around Spike’s chest and make sure the knot was out of reach at the back of the chair.
And when Spike was petulant and angry, as he'd been the day before, it was easy to ignore the memories of a hotel room and a generous lover (and after a few flings with guys his own age, after Larry, Xander knew what selfish was) who focused on him, in spite of not being able to feel anything there himself.
Co-operative Spike was more difficult. While he didn't trust him any further than he could throw him, in a small, unacknowledged corner of his mind, Xander regretted his outburst in Giles' bathroom.
“Dunno why I have to be tied up,” Spike complained.
On the other hand, the major part of his mind was quite happy with the arrangement as it stood. “And leave you loose while I’m asleep? No way.”
Spike tilted his head to consider Xander and sneered, “Like I'd bite you.”
“You can’t," Xander replied with some smugness. "I’m not worried about that.”
Narrowing his eyes, Spike asked, “What then?”
Xander walked into the living room and looked down at his charge. He grinned. “Your idea of interior decoration,” he said.
Spike's frown deepened, but strangely his body seemed to relax and he stopped testing his bonds. However, when he spoke there was a definite snap in his voice. “You know nothing about my tastes,” he said.
Xander nodded. “But I’ve seen your dress sense.”
With a sneer, Spike made a show of looking Xander up and down. “And I’ve seen yours,” he replied.
That simply made Xander grin wider. He might not have a huge wardrobe, but he knew that what he had was okay. When he first came out, in senior year, Buffy made it her mission to improve his dress sense, his and Larry's. She'd dragged them around the mall, one terrible Saturday afternoon, until they'd both bought a few new clothes, just to pacify her. After that she shared her magazines with him, as if by admitting to being gay, he necessarily had to be interested. In spite of himself, he'd absorbed some of the basic principles. Looking down at his plain brown t-shirt and admittedly rather worn blue jeans, Xander knew that although he'd never be a fashion plate, he was also not an embarrassment to his friends. "That the best you can do?" he asked, turning away and heading for his bedroom.
Behind him there was silence, until he reached the door, then Spike called out, “Oh Xander, don't you care about me?”
Turning to look back at him, Xander sighed. Quite suddenly he was tired. “You know what, Spike?" he asked. "Why don't you just shut up?”
“Xaaannnder.”
“No! Just shut up! I'm going to bed and it doesn't matter how loud you shout. These walls are thick, so I won't hear you and nor will anyone else.” He left before Spike could say anything more, retreating to his room and closing the door.
Leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor, he climbed into bed and buried himself under the covers.
*****
It took a while for Xander to catch on the next morning. He woke up, washed, dressed and wandered through the living room to the kitchen, only nodding at Spike in passing. Spike nodded back. Xander was grateful for the quiet.
In the kitchen he made coffee and it wasn't until he’d pulled down a mug, got a carton of blood out of the fridge and turned to shout a question across the room to Spike that he realised.
Trying to mime a conversation with Spike was both remarkably easy and intensely frustrating. However, his accusation that the loss of his voice was Spike's fault was never supposed to be serious; he'd simply hoped that Spike knew what was going on.
Picking up the living room telephone extension, he dialled Buffy and Willow’s room. It wasn’t until he heard it pick up that he realised how stupid that was.
Spike was looking at him and his opinion of Xander's actions was clear from his expression. Thankfully, panic had come to Xander's rescue as often as it had got him into trouble. He pulled the handset away from his ear and tapped on it a number of times with his fingernail. Spike’s expression shifted from derisive to mildly impressed. Spike obviously didn’t know Morse code. Unfortunately, neither did Buffy nor Xander.
Giving a few more taps, Xander paused, as if listening to a reply, and then put the phone down. He grabbed his message pad and scribbled “I’m going to Giles' place.”
Spike raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly down at the ropes still tight around his chest and arms. Xander considered him, letting him stew for a while, then went and undid the knot at the back of the chair and the one holding his left arm. Spike could manage the rest himself. He left without waiting to see if Spike thanked him. He figured it would be a waste of time.
The town was eerily quiet, as if the loss of human voices had dulled all the other sounds. The few people who were out were mostly wandering around looking lost. There were very few cars, but Xander found that he was driving more slowly than usual, his eyes constantly drawn to further evidence that the phenomenon was city-wide. On a street corner he spotted what looked like a prayer meeting. Meanwhile other people decided to cope by other means - the liquor store was open early and seemed to be doing brisk business. As far as Xander could see, everything else appeared to be closed.
The door to Giles' apartment was opened by a strange woman who looked at him blankly, until he mouthed Giles' name, upon which she shrugged and stepped back to allow him in.
Inside, Giles was sitting at his desk and it was obvious that he was feeling harassed. He had books spread out everywhere, even on the floor. When Xander waved and raised his brows, he shook his head before going back to his reading.
Buffy and Willow arrived shortly after Xander and came armed with whiteboards and marker pens, which made communication easier than scribbling messages on paper and passing them around.
The television had been moved back into the living room and the local news confirmed that the situation was affecting the whole of Sunnydale, but not the whole state and that the army had put up a cordon around the town to isolate it and prevent the spread of the infection. It looked like the cover-up was official. Xander wondered if it was the City Council or the military who had come up with the lame excuse they were peddling.
They spent the day searching fruitlessly through Giles' books. Olivia, Giles' lady friend, had seen something from the window in the night. She drew it from memory and if she was as good an artist as the picture suggested, there was definitely something creepy going on. She also tried to help with the research for a while, but the necessity of laboriously writing down all instructions and questions made it slow work. After two hours she gave up and retreated to the kitchen to make tea. Buffy wrote out more of the details of her dream, drawing pictures in places, although the people all looked like the same stick figure to Xander, and Xander dragged the boxed up books out of the spare bedroom, in case they contained anything useful. No such luck, as they confirmed four hours later.
Eventually, Giles pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He picked up one of the whiteboards. "You should all go home. Get some rest. Meet at UCSD campus tomorrow - try the library there," he wrote.
Buffy shook her head and took the board from him, wiped it clean and wrote, "Patrol!"
Giles looked at her thoughtfully and then gave a tired nod of agreement. She replied with a lopsided grin and grabbed her coat. She pointed at Willow and with hand signals made it clear that she would walk her home first. When she turned to Xander, he mimed driving and pointed at both of them. Buffy nodded.
After dropping Willow and Buffy at the campus, Xander realised he was reluctant to go home. Going back to Giles' was out, so he drove around town. The centre looked much as it had that morning, at first, only with more trash lying around. On closer inspection, though, he noticed the glass strewn over the sidewalk and rounding the corner onto Main Street, he saw looting in progress. He wasn't tempted to stop and interfere. Twenty yards further on, the electronics shop had been completely cleaned out. When he passed the second car on fire he decided that even if the only thing waiting for him at home was a resentful vampire, he would be better off the streets. Turning right at the broken lights by the town hall, he hoped he had enough food at home to make a meal.
The silence in the apartment was unnerving, oppressively solid, in spite of the TV playing. Spike looked up when Xander walked in and they stared at each other. Spike’s eyes were an amazing shade of blue. Xander shook himself and pointed at the TV, then lifted his hands and shoulders in a questioning shrug. Spike's lips quirked but he merely raised a sceptical eyebrow and shook his head. Xander scowled and flipped him off which made Spike laugh silently. It was communication of a sort, although Xander wished he'd thought to borrow one of the whiteboards. Spike turned back to the TV while Xander headed to the kitchen.
The only thing he appeared to have in his fridge was blood, but he drew the line miles short of sharing Spike's supper. After a hunt through his cupboards, refried beans, tinned tuna and creamed corn made an interesting stew, and by the time he'd emptied it all into a pan and heated it up, he was hungry enough not to care.
Spike nodded when Xander passed him a heated mug of blood, but seemed disinclined for even the limited conversation that notes or mime allowed, so Xander was left with nothing to do but think. He ate in the kitchen then joined Spike on the sofa to watch TV, passing him a beer as he sat down. The news was still telling the same story - an epidemic of Laryngitis. Xander happened to glance across at Spike just after the anchor repeated the excuse. Spike gave a snort of disgust and Xander grinned. By mutual and silent consent they decided that watching the news was worse than useless so Xander flipped channels until he found a movie, coming in just in time to catch a twenty car pile-up. It was a surprisingly restful evening.
The next day started well. The town had settled into a dull state of apathy, far preferable to the angry vandalism of the day before. The presence of the army on the streets helped with that. Giles had also found the cause of the threat. His slideshow turned out to be the high point, however. UC Sunnydale library was open and there were a surprising number of students at work, but it provided no clues as to how Buffy could get her voice back and so defeat The Gentlemen.
By the end of the day, Xander was tired and wired. And hungry. On the way home he swung by Dino's Pizza Place and was relieved to see that Mr Donato was open for business. He bought an extra large Mega Meat and an extra large BBQ Chicken & Bacon, figuring that now was a time to have stores in reserve. Food would also give him and Spike something to focus on, other than the silence.
The silence created an atmosphere of companionable solidarity and when he'd gone to bed the previous night, his dreams had been full of images of Spike that made him uncomfortable. He really didn't want to spend another evening silently communing on the sofa. To that end, once they'd eaten, he wrote Spike a note. "I'm going out. Patrol with Buffy. Want to come?"
Spike seemed to take forever to read it and then looked up at Xander. "Okay," he mouthed, his lips twisting into a wry smile.
Buffy didn't appear to be very pleased to see them, but since she couldn't say anything, she couldn't send them away. She marched off and they followed, side by side. Xander shot a questioning glance at Spike, which he replied to with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.
They were walking down a quiet residential street when Xander caught movement from the corner of his eye. He turned and spotted one of the creatures Olivia had drawn. It glided along, just as Giles had said, is if on rollers. Breaking into a run, he caught up with Buffy. She swung around at the sound of his footsteps and he pointed. A moment later, he was staggering back from her shove, straight into Spike's arms. His silent yell of indignation was cut short when a strange creature, like a black and white movie Quasimodo, jumped out of the bushes, right where he'd been standing, and tackled her. Spike's arms were tight around his waist, preventing him from going to her aid, in spite of his struggles.
Buffy kicked the creature to the ground but a second one appeared from nowhere, behind her, and grabbed her around the waist with both arms, just as Spike had grabbed Xander. She raised her arm and jabbed her elbow back into its face and, when it staggered, pulled herself free, swinging around to bury her fist in its gut.
Xander tried to make the same move, but Spike was too fast, grabbing his wrists to hold them still.
The creature Buffy had punched, reeled backwards and tripped over a tree root, landing on its back with its legs in the air. Almost before it had hit the ground, the first one was back on its feet and Buffy ducked under a swinging punch. She placed her hands on the ground and kicked back with both feet as she cart-wheeled past, hitting the creature in its chest and knocking it into a tree. Spike dragged Xander out of range. On her feet once more, Buffy kicked again, catching the creature in the leg with the sole of her foot and there was a sharp snapping sound. It went down, writhing and hugging its shin. Buffy ran forward and brought her foot down hard on its neck. She didn't stay to make sure it was dead. There was no need. Instead she turned on the spot, looking for the other one.
Xander looked around too and saw it running away. Wrenching his arms free of Spike's hold, he waved his arms above his head to catch Buffy's eye and, ignoring her raised eyebrows at the sight of him locked in Spike's embrace, pointed down the street at the fleeing creature. She nodded and took off after it, while Spike finally let Xander go.
He didn't stop to yell at Spike; it would have done no good. He simply glared at him and set off after Buffy. Spike's footsteps sounded behind him and in less than twenty yards, Spike had caught up and was running by his side.
They rounded a street corner together and caught sight of Buffy about fifty yards in front of them. She was heading straight for the abandoned church with the clock tower. It loomed at the end of the dark street, looking as innocent as ever except for the fact that there was a light in the tower and the fluttering of shadows on the slats over the windows indicated movement inside. Xander quickened his pace, Spike matching him stride for stride.
By the time they reached the church there was no sign of Buffy, but there was a hole in the wall where a boarded up window had been and the sound of crashing coming from inside. Xander edged up to the hole and peered cautiously in, Spike crowding close behind him. Before his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, silence fell, shocking in its suddenness. In alarm, Xander scrambled over the lip of the hole, where he tripped over a ladder that was lying on the ground covered by a dirty tarp, and fell. Nothing attacked him and he took a moment to catch his breath before rolling over onto his back and lifting his head.
It was easier to see now that he was inside too. Buffy was standing in the middle of the room facing off with a guy Xander thought he recognised, but he'd never seen him dressed like a soldier before and he'd certainly never seen a gun like the one the guy was holding. They were both frozen, staring at each other, him with his weird blaster gun pointed at Buffy's chest, her with her one-handed crossbow cocked and ready to fire a bolt right through his eye. It looked like neither of them had stirred at Xander's noisy entrance.
When Xander scrambled to his feet, they at last moved. Slowly they both swung around to face him and he raised his right hand in a nervous wave. Breaking eye contact seemed to have snapped them out of whatever trance they had fallen into, which was lucky because at that moment a Quasimodos came leaping and bounding across the room. Buffy ducked, the soldier ducked and Xander threw himself to the ground. The creature went over his head, propelled by one of Buffy's feet and crashed into the wall. Buffy caught Xander's eye and shrugged an apologetic "Sorry" at him. He grinned back. The soldier fired his weapon at the creature as it flailed on the floor and it collapsed in a crackle of tame lightning. Xander got to his feet and looked around.
Another four of the creatures were scattered around the room. Two had obviously been brought down by arrows from Buffy's crossbow. He assumed that the soldier had accounted for the others. Against the wall on the far side of the room, a flight of stairs led up to a trapdoor in the ceiling. He pointed, trying to look his question and Buffy nodded. She headed in that direction, the soldier at her heels.
Xander cast a last look back at the hole in the wall and saw Spike gesturing to him to come out. He hesitated but shook his head. Spike started to climb in himself and Xander rushed over to stop him. "Are you crazy?" he mouthed, pointing the way Buffy had gone, miming holding a rifle and finally standing straight and sketching a salute before pointing at the stairs again. "Commando guy!"
Spike nodded his understanding and indicated that Xander should therefore come outside.
Xander shook his head. "I'll be careful," he mouthed, as clearly as he could. Spike shook his head again and moved, as if to clamber through the hole into the church. "No," Xander mouthed, physically bundling him back out. "Stay there," he ordered, pointing emphatically at the ground outside.
Turning away, he crept over to the stairs and edged his way up, pausing when his head was level with the upper floor. A scraping sound behind him made him turn, foot raised, ready to kick his attacker back down the stairs. It was Spike. Xander took a deep breath and put his foot back down on the step. Above them, a crash sent plaster dust cascading down to the floor below.
Waving Spike to stay back, Xander turned towards the room above and looked over the edge of the trapdoor. There was a table in the centre of the room next to the mechanism of the clock, ropes hung everywhere and suspended from the ceiling above them was a huge bell.
All of that, he took in with a single glance, because his eyes were caught by the sight of Buffy being held by three of the Quasimodo creatures. Two were holding on to her upper arms and the third was almost wrapped around her legs. She was jerking at their grip, but was apparently unable to free herself. A pair of scarecrow skeletons of Gentlemen floated towards her, scalpels in outstretched hands.
Xander edged up the last few stairs, but before he could rush to her rescue, Buffy caught his eye and jerked her head towards the table, miming the opening and closing of an oyster with her hands. Xander turned to look, searching the objects on the table: big jars with hearts in them, scraps of wood and debris, and a box. It looked like the one Buffy had drawn, from her dream. He glanced back at her and nodded, just as a burst of lightning hit one of the Gentlemen and he staggered. Another burst caught the Quasimodo holding Buffy's left arm. When it was redirected at the one around her legs she was finally able to wrench herself free. She kicked the Quasimodo at her feet at the same time as punching the one who still held her right arm. Then she swung around, sending him flying through the air, to crash into the wall. The Gentlemen stopped their advance, waiting.
For a moment, Xander thought the fight was as good as over. The Gentlemen didn't seem inclined to join in the actual fisticuffs and although scary, they looked decidedly snapable. But the Quasimodos were tough. Two of them rolled back onto their feet and swarmed her, while the third, and another Xander hadn't spotted before, turned on the soldier who, Xander now saw, was lying propped against the wall, as if he'd been thrown there, with his gun pointing into the room.
Xander took a deep breath and sprang out of his hiding place. He felt Spike's hand grab at the cuff of his jeans, but he obviously missed, because Xander was in the room, on his feet and running for the table. All around him there were crashes and bodies flying as he dodged and wove his way across the few yards to his target. He made it and picking up one of the jars containing a heart, brought it down on top of the box with all the weight of his arm and all the force of his fear and desperation.
He staggered back and Buffy began to scream. It went on and on, while the Gentlemen stood frozen and stared at her. Then the Gentlemen started to shake and a moment later their heads exploded with a sound like boiling mud. The Quasimodos sank to the floor and Xander completed his stagger and fell on his butt.
When he got himself over onto his hands and knees, he looked around and saw Buffy sitting on the floor by the clock mechanism. He crawled over to her. She gave him a tired smile and together they helped each other to their feet. For a moment they simply stood with their arms around each other, providing mutual support, until the soldier coughed to attract their attention. Xander looked at him over Buffy's shoulder, back down at Buffy and back at the soldier's impatient face. He began to laugh. Buffy glanced around, looked up at Xander and then she was laughing too. Clinging to each other they helped each other across to the stairs with the soldier trailing behind. When they reached the room below, Spike was gone.
Much later, after they'd escaped the soldier (Riley, Buffy called him) who appeared torn between concern that they'd identified him and his need to organise a clean-up crew, after they had reported back to Giles and after he'd delivered Buffy back to the campus, Xander finally made it home. It was 2am on Monday morning and he started work in five hours.
He dragged himself up the stairs, opened his front door and walked into his apartment. It was empty. The living room, kitchen area, bathroom - all empty. The doors onto the balcony were open, but there was no one out there. He even looked in his own bedroom, but there was no sign of Spike.
Wondering at the cold, heavy feeling in his lower chest, Xander went back to the kitchen. Even knowing that Spike was gone, he kept glancing around, as if Spike would suddenly reappear out of thin air. His eyes fell on the closed door to the spare bedroom and the ache in his chest sharpened. Hurrying over, he threw open the door. The ache faded slowly as he took in the sight of Spike lying on a nest of his spare blankets and sheets, in the far corner of the room.
Xander leant against the door jam and Spike turned his head. "Got home safe, then," he observed.
"Yeah. Going to bed now. Got to get up in four hours to start my new job."
"Bugger off then," Spike said.
Xander grinned and went.
Note: Some bits of dialogue borrowed and adapted from episode 4.10, Hush.
Chapter 30
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-01-30 02:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-30 03:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-30 04:13 pm (UTC)The silence created a feeling of companionability between Spike and Xander. If the vampire isn't insulting and bitching, he just is and it's no wonder Xander has dreams about him.
The fight was vividly drawn and I enjoyed Spike trying to keep Xander safe. Xander's role in defeating The Gentlemen was wonderful. He really is an integral member of the team. Xander's dismay at finding his apartment empty and his relief at finding the vampire tucked into the guest room bodes well for this growing attachment to Spike. It's all making for a fun read.
You transposed a couple words in this sentence: Xander tried to make the same move, but was Spike too fast
no subject
Date: 2010-01-30 04:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-30 05:28 pm (UTC)The boys are growing closer though neither of them realizes it ...yet.
Shakatany
no subject
Date: 2010-01-30 05:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-30 06:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-30 06:05 pm (UTC)I hadn't though of it in those terms, but of course, you are absolutely right. *grins* Thank you. I love that. And I am so pleased you enjoyed the rest too.
Thank you, also, for that catch. Mended now.
no subject
Date: 2010-01-30 06:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-30 06:08 pm (UTC)I think you might be right *g*
As for Tara... well... I could tell you, but I'd have to
eatkill you *g*Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it.
no subject
Date: 2010-01-30 07:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-30 07:33 pm (UTC)I also loved Time froze too, then the Gentlemen started to shake and a moment later their heads exploded with a sound like boiling mud. The Quasimodos sank to the ground and Xander fell over on his butt. There's such great drama and imagery here and then you cut the legs from under the paragraph before it goes over the top. Very nicely done.
I'll finish my beta of the next one I've got to send to you today and get it off to you.
BTW, that manip makes a scrumptious banner.
Speak to you tomorrow, love
s xx
no subject
Date: 2010-01-30 08:06 pm (UTC)Riley's cover is so thoroughly blown, it's lovely. :) Something tells me Spike won't be going on to that drafty old crypt. :)
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Date: 2010-01-30 08:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-31 03:20 am (UTC)I am so glad that your story is continuing. I just love it. You are such a fabulous writer and to think of this plot line. *sigh*
I have to reread the first chapters again, but that is absolutely no hardship. That's what got me hooked after all. :D
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Date: 2010-01-31 05:38 am (UTC)I do love how Spike tried to protect his Xander
Ah ha, you're already using the possessive pronoun. *thinks* You might not be wrong. *g*
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Date: 2010-01-31 05:51 am (UTC)I got the next chapter, this morning. Thank you for that too. Speak to you later. *squishes you*
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Date: 2010-01-31 05:53 am (UTC)*laughs* You are so right! Something tells me you are right with your other suggestion too.
Thank you, hon. I'm so glad you enjoyed it.
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Date: 2010-01-31 05:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-31 05:59 am (UTC)*blushes* Thank you very much indeed. I am flattered to bits by your praise and very pleased to know that my story entertains you.
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Date: 2010-01-31 06:27 am (UTC)Every compliment you receive is well deserved.
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Date: 2010-01-31 06:36 am (UTC)*blushes again* Thank you.
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Date: 2010-01-31 09:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-31 02:21 pm (UTC)Yes, they might, but whether one or both of them is ready to admit to that is a different matter. *g*
Thank you. It's lovely to know that people still enjoy this, after I had to put it on pause for so long.
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Date: 2010-02-03 05:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-02-03 05:39 am (UTC)