Bewitched, Chapter 35/37

[thismaz]

Title: Bewitched, Chapter 35/37
Pairing: S/X
Rating: Overall NC-17
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: 3,180
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, after chapter 27, there is a recap post here with a link to chapter 28 and all chapters following.


Many thanks to katekat1010 for allowing me to use her original manip which you can find here.



Chapter 35

Xander stretched luxuriously. Saturday mornings were wonderful. Saturday mornings when it was just a guy and his vampire in a big soft bed, were blissful. Turning onto his side, he pressed up against Spike, his thighs and knees fitting snugly into the backs of Spike's bent legs. He slipped his arm around Spike's chest and ran his palm down over Spike's belly to his cock, closing his hand loosely around it.

Spike stirred. "Wha time 'sit?" he mumbled.

"Late," Xander replied, leaning forward and nipping playfully at Spike's ear. Spike gave a rumble of approval from deep in his chest. He tightened his grip on Spike's cock and began to stroke, feeling the flesh harden and grow in his hand. "Or early, if you're a vampire."

"I am a bloody vampire," Spike groused, but there was a definite smile in his voice. Rolling over onto his back, he wormed his right arm under Xander's shoulder. Xander raised his head off the pillow, obligingly, and Spike pulled him close.

An hour later, Xander decided that Saturday mornings with wake-up sex, were the best of all, even when your lover turned lazily onto his front and made you do all the work. He grinned and placed a wet kiss on Spike's shoulder blade before climbing out of bed.

Burying his cheek more securely into the pillow, Spike asked, "What time's it now?"

Xander glanced at the clock on the table next to his side of the bed. "Twenty 'til two," he reported.

Spike grabbed the comforter. "Too early," he said, pulling it over his head and adding in a voice muffled by bedding, "Wake me at sunset."

With a chuckle, Xander hunted around on the floor for something cleanish to put on, gathered the bundle into his arms and left the room. He dropped the pile of clothes carelessly on the floor in the hall and padded, naked, into the kitchen to start his coffee brewing, so it would be ready when he'd finished his shower.

He had no plans for the day, nothing he needed to do. There were no (he paused to cross his fingers and touch wood) new monsters making their arrival felt, just the continued threat of the Initiative and Adam, both of whom had been remarkably quiet for the past week, or more.

Xander sat at his kitchen table and enjoyed the sensation of physical contentment, before something came along to disrupt it.

He was halfway through his second cup of coffee and was wondering if Buffy would need them to patrol that night, when there was a knock on the door.

Groaning, he got to his feet and went to open it. In the hallway outside stood Oz, looking slightly sheepish with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. "Hey," he said.

"Oz!" Xander said, opening the door properly and stepping back. As Oz walked in he asked, "Can werewolves get vamped? Want some coffee?"

Oz shrugged in answer to his first question and said, "Thanks," in reply to his second.

"When did you get home?" Xander asked, leading the way into the kitchen.

"This morning." Oz paused in the living room and gave a loud sniff, before following. Xander ignored the hint and Oz didn't push it. Instead he asked, "Have you seen Willow? I've been to her dorm and to Giles' place, but she's not there." He was obviously a werewolf with a mission.

Sidestepping the question, Xander grabbed a mug, looking over his shoulder at Oz. "Oz, man, it's good to see you too, but you don't call, you don't write."

Oz gave a grimace. "Yeah, sorry."

"So are you back?" Xander poured the last of the coffee in the pot into the mug and brought it over to the table. They sat down opposite each other and Xander studied Oz's face, looking for clues to what he'd been doing. He looked much the same. Calmer, if anything, assuming that was possible and it wasn't Xander's memory that was at fault.

Oz gave a small smile. Most of Oz's facial expressions were small, but Xander believed that he could still read them and that one looked forced. "I hope so," he said. "It depends on Willow. Do you know where I can find her?" He was obviously a werewolf who would not be diverted from his mission. "Giles didn't seem to know, but I figured you might. I want to find her, before tonight if I can." He paused, gazing down into his mug, studying the surface of his coffee. "I really want to see her."

Damn Giles, Xander thought. He'd wimped out. "Tonight?" he asked, something occurring to him. "But it's-"

"A full moon, yeah."

Resting his hands on the edge of the table, Xander straightened his arms so that he was sitting back in his chair, narrowed his eyes and said, "You're not the kinda guy who bites his ex, so what're you playing at?"

Oz looked up sharply and focused on Xander's face. After a moment he relaxed. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," he said, sincerely. "No play. I won't change... I, er, I found a cure."

"A cure?"

"Of sorts." He shook his head slightly. "It's not gone. It'll never be gone. But I can control it now."

Feeling the smile stretch his lips, Xander gave a bark of delighted laughter. "Wow! That's amazing. Really amazing!"

Oz dipped his head bashfully. "Yeah. I... I'm a different person than I was four months ago." He looked up again, straight into Xander's eyes. "I can be here now," he said, adding, with an awkward shrug, "That's what I want." He stopped and if it had been anybody other than Oz, Xander would've said he fidgeted. There was a distinct note of nervousness in his voice when he asked, "Has Willow, um... has she got a new guy?"

Hedging, Xander said, "I don't see the girls so much," as he wondered what he could say, without breaking confidences that had not been explicitly stated. He took a sip of his cooling coffee. "Umm..."

Picking up on his hesitation and jumping to the obvious conclusion, Oz asked, "She has?"

With a sigh, Xander decided on full disclosure. "Not as such. Not a guy," he explained. "But, um, look, this is awkward..." Oz's eyes were fixed on him with painful intensity. "There's a woman. Tara. And Spike says-"

"Spike?"

"Uh, yeah, he's sort of living here. With me."

"Thought I could smell something."

"Yeah, anyway, he said that they..." Xander paused. "Willow brought her to a Scooby meeting last week," he said finally.

"Okay," Oz agreed, his face pinched, "that's pretty much a declaration."

There was nothing Xander could say that would make things better. Oz had come back hoping to pick up his life where he'd left it and like many people, Xander included, he'd come back to find that home had moved on too. Leaving Oz in peace, he got up to make more coffee. He had a feeling this was a three cup conversation. Or maybe a three cup silence, judging by Oz's reaction. He didn't return to the table, keeping his back to Oz while he watched the coffee maker do its thing. Every now and again he'd glance over his shoulder. Oz was sitting perfectly still, except for his right hand which was fiddling with a string of beads that were wrapped around his left wrist and hand. When the pot was full Xander refilled his own mug and went to top up Oz's. Putting the pot back on the hot plate, he returned to the table and sat down.

Oz looked up at him and there was something harsh and painful in his eyes. He looked like a man who had taken a blow to the gut. He was also shifting in his seat, as if he was about to get up and leave and that didn't seem like a good idea.

"So tell me about this cure," Xander suggested.

For a moment Oz didn't say anything, but then he slumped and Xander realised how tense he'd been before. 'Tense' and 'Oz' were two words that weren't supposed to go together. With a nod, Oz picked up his mug and took a sip. "I was in Tibet," he said. "My cousin put me in touch with a shaman in New Mexico. He sent me to a warlock in Romania and he sent me to the monks there to learn some meditation techniques."

"And that was it? Meditation?"

A small twitch of the lips suggested that, in Oz's opinion, Xander had just said something funny, or incredibly stupid, but he answered seriously. "It was very intense. All about keeping your inner cool. But I take some herbs and stuff, as well. There's a couple of charms." He lifted his left hand, indicating the string of beads. "And some chanting..." He trailed off.

"You must have seen some amazing places," Xander observed enviously.

That raised another slight smile, less amused and more inclusive this time. "Yeah, Tibet was pretty awesome," Oz agreed. "But some places were just difficult. Different languages, passport and visa problems." He shrugged. "More difficult when you're in a hurry to get somewhere."

Xander smiled and, responding to the encouragement, Oz began to tell stories: sunrises over deserts and mountains, busking for pennies on street corners, bartering his tapes and albums, one by one to maximum effect and working illegally when he could. He didn't ask about Willow again and the afternoon slid gently by. Many of the stories were comic, some were sad, while in a few Xander could hear the awe Oz still felt for what he'd seen. All were told with vivid emotion and Xander was amazed, both by how much he had done in a few short months and by how unembarrassed he was at allowing the emotion to show.

They drank the rest of the pot of coffee while Oz talked, then Xander brought him up-to-date on developments in Sunnydale, including the Initiative, Spike, the chip and the threat of Adam. By the time Xander got up to make pasta for dinner they were swapping stories of the strange and the freaky. Oz had met a lot of strange and freaky on his travels. It was oddly reassuring to Xander, to hear that Sunnydale wasn't the only place on the planet where you could meet the weird and the wonderful, and the just plain scary, while walking down a quiet street. Oz had met things that Sunnydale had never seen (as far as Xander knew) and he seemed to take it all in stride.

They moved on to beer to accompany the meal.

Spike appeared just as Xander was serving the food out onto plates. He came up behind Xander and slipped an arm around his waist, giving him a squeeze, before moving over to the fridge to pull out some blood. "Want some of this?" Xander asked.

"Nah," he replied, pulling a face. "Too soggy. I want something with a bit of crunch."

"Wheat-a-bits in the cupboard," Xander replied, nodding in the direction of the cupboard where he kept dry goods. "I got some more."

"Ta, pet," Spike grabbing the mug that Xander had designated the 'blood mug' and filling it to the brim. He put it in the microwave, switched it on and went to fetch a bowl and the wheat-a-bits.

Xander passed Oz a plate of pasta and sat down again with his own.

"Huh," Oz said. "I guess you are living together."

Spike turned to look at him, his mouth tight. "You got a problem with that?" he asked.

Oz shook his head. "No, no problem. Shouldn't have been surprised."

After a moment, Spike nodded and turned back to making his dinner. "Good," he grunted.

It seemed they understood each other, because there was no tension in the air. Xander tried to remember if Oz had ever expressed an opinion of Spike, when he was stalking Xander in Junior year, but couldn't. He didn't seem to be carrying a grudge for Spike's kidnapping of Willow in Senior year, either. It seemed he'd been speaking the literal truth when he said he was a different person.

Spike came and joined them at the table with his mug, his bowl of blood drenched wheat-a-bits and a beer of his own.

"Oz has been telling me about his travels," Xander explained.

"Yeah, I heard you." He looked over at Oz. "So were you a wolf when you were with the Red Witch, or is that new?"

"I was. It's the reason I left - to find a cure." Spike snorted, but Oz continued. "And I did."

Spike studied him. "No you didn't," he countered.

Oz grinned, the first Xander had seen from him all day. "No, I didn't," he agreed. "But I learnt to control it." He studied Spike in return. "Does it bother you?" he asked.

"What, that movie crap about vampires and werewolves being mortal enemies?" Spike sneered.

"No. Me being here, with Xander."

Spike gave a careless shrug. "You're not human. I figure I can take you with no trouble, if you try anything." He fixed Oz with a hard stare. "And I'll be keeping a close eye on you after dark," he added.

With a nod of acceptance, Oz returned to his meal. Xander looked from one to the other of them. "Not a damsel, here," he protested. Oz looked up and grinned at him. Spike just snorted. Xander clipped Spike over the back of the head, which had no effect other than to make Spike grin at him with bloody teeth.

"Oz has control," Xander said. "He was planning to see Willow tonight and he wouldn't do that if he didn't trust himself to be safe."

Spike raised an eyebrow at Oz. "And now you're not?" he asked.

"Thought I'd wait 'til tomorrow. Xander says there's a Scooby meeting in the morning."

Spike gave a grunt of acknowledgement. "There's always a bloody meeting," he agreed. "How often do you let it out?"

Obviously surprised by the question, Oz hesitated. "Er... never?"

"Afraid?"

"Well, yeah," Oz said. "Of course I'm afraid. I might hurt someone."

Cocking his head, Spike considered him. "I'll keep you in line. If you look like you're about to go for someone's throat, I'll knock you out and tie you up until you change back. How's that?"

Oz stared at Spike for a full half a minute, his face that special sort of Oz-blank that looked like inscrutable. He glanced at Xander, back at Spike and a slow smile twisted the corners of his lips. "Actually, that sounds pretty good, right now."

Xander found Spike a duffel bag to take Oz's clothes and by the time the sun was down they were ready to go, with twenty minutes before the moon would clear the tops of the hills to the east. At the door, he grabbed Spike's lapels and pulled him in for a quick kiss. "Don't let him hurt any humans, please?" he whispered. "He'd never forgive himself and I like him."

Spike gave a terse nod. "Spoil all my fun, why don't you?" he said, but reassuringly added, "Don't worry, pet. I'll make sure the populace stay safe."

Xander spent a quiet evening. Buffy was planning no more than a quick sweep of the town, so he vegged in front of the TV.

He was dozing on the sofa wondering whether to wait up until Spike and Oz got back, or whether to go to bed, when he heard the front door open and looked around, a greeting and questions already on his lips.

One sight of Spike's face caused the words to die unspoken. He leapt to his feet, taking an involuntary few steps back from the door. "What happened?" he asked.

His voice vibrating with controlled rage, Spike gritted out, "They got him. The bastards got him."

"Who got him?" The moment he said it, Xander realised. "Oh my god! No! How?"

Spike paced backwards and forwards in front of the door. His hands were clenched into tight fists at his sides and he moved with a stiffness that told Xander how much effort he was putting into not ripping something apart. "We were right up in the hills. I kept him away from houses. He caught himself a deer. Brought it down and had himself a good meal. Better than that pasta rubbish. Then he took off after a rabbit. Might have been a cat."

He stopped and whirled around to face Xander. Xander realised that he'd taken another step back, only after he'd done so. He cursed silently when Spike frowned and his whole body seemed to slump in on itself. The contained violence disappeared from his voice, replaced by weariness. "I was right behind him. But he broke straight through a patrol of commandos." Cautiously Xander stepped forward, but Spike held up both hands, warding him off. Seeing the yellow flecks still bursting in his eyes, Xander obeyed. "I couldn't do anything. Had to just stand there and watch them take him away."

Xander went into the kitchen and pulled Spike's whisky bottle and a glass from the cupboard. He poured a large measure and took it back into the living room, holding it out to Spike.

"I said I'd keep him safe," Spike said, taking the glass.

"I know." Spike took a gulp of his drink and some subtle change in his demeanour gave Xander the courage to step close. "We'll get him back," he promised. "We'll call Buffy, right now, and Giles, and we'll get him back." He raised his hand and laid it against the side of Spike's neck.

Spike looked up from his contemplation of his glass. "I trailed them," he said. "Saw them take him through a door in the woods. I judge it's another entrance to the Initiative." He lifted the glass to his lips and tossed the whisky back in one swallow, then he pulled away from Xander and hurled the glass across the room, into the kitchen where it smashed against the tile floor. "I said I'd keep him fucking safe," he yelled.

Xander backed away behind the sofa and watched helplessly, but that last act seemed to have drained the energy from Spike. He leant against the wall and allowed himself to slide down until he was sitting on the floor with his knees bent in front of him.

Xander crept forward again. "That's good," he said. "That's a start. We know where they are and we know the way in."

Raising his head, Spike looked up at him. "I am going to fucking kill every last one of them," he swore, his voice shaking with anger. "If they do anything to the wolf, I'll tear them limb from bloody limb and feed them their genitals for breakfast."

Xander nodded. He checked the time: a few minutes after midnight. Hopefully Buffy would be home from patrol. Getting to his feet, he went to the phone to call for help.


Some bits of dialogue borrowed and adapted from episode 4.19. New Moon Rising

Chapter 36

Comments

[brunettepet.livejournal.com]

BTW, the British cereal Spike likes in his blood is called Weetabix.

[thismaz.livejournal.com]

Yeah, I know. But Weetabix goes soggy really fast and Spike wanted some crunch, so I made up a breakfast cereal. sparrow2000 picked me up on that too, when she beta'd this chapter. But I'd already used wheat-a-bits in chapter 29, so I left it. Maybe I should go back and change it in chapter 29 and here.