Second Verse
Chapter 6 -- Return of the Blond
Xander knew nothing else until the sound of raised voices woke him from the half sleep, half daze he had entered. Someone had slipped a blanket over his shoulders, and he pushed it off as he stood, determined to face the group on his feet. Luther's group had obviously returned because he now sat with Lou and Gunn in the far corner and Casey and Trey stood a foot or so away, their own confusion and pain written on their faces.
"Man, what went down?" Trey asked him.
"Nothing good," Xander finally choked out. He knew it was cowardly, but he couldn't bring himself to tell them how he had failed Fredrick.
"Not dead," Trey asked in a tone that existed somewhere between hopeful denial and pained sob. Xander studied the floor carefully, unable to even look at Trey, unwilling to be the one who destroyed the last shred of hope that Fredrick simply needed them to get him out of jail or the county hospital. Xander was saved from having to reply when Gunn rose to his feet and started moving toward their end of the large room.
"Need to talk," Gunn began, and every voice, every shuffle, every breath instantly stopped. Gunn sighed deeply into the silence, and Xander waited to find out just how much Fredrick had suffered for his mistake.
"Lost Fredrick tonight," Gunn said in a rushed tone as if he forced the words out. "More vamps than we expected, a lot more. Had a couple of real clever ones in back, harder to kill, and we think one or two may have got away. Openings to the sewers back there." Gunn took a deep breath and rubbed his head as he looked around the room. Xander waited in near panic. He had never seen Gunn so…Xander searched for a word to label Gunn's expression. Nervous? Scared? Horrified?
"Vamps had some sort of set up in there—had strange letters on the walls." Gunn stopped again, and Xander could feel the whole group begin to react to Gunn's nervousness. "Letters in blood. Vamps used organs and such—made some sort of pattern," Gunn almost whispered, but in the silence every word sounded like a shout. Xander's brain couldn't even process for a moment, and then the thought of Fredrick split open with his guts decorating a floor and his blood used as paint rose to the surface. Oh god, had he seen that before he died? Had he known? Xander felt his stomach twist as he reached out to steady himself against the wall. Somewhere deep down, he registered the warm hand holding him steady, but he couldn't even see who had offered him that comfort. He silently accepted the help for as long as it was offered.
"They're doing something, and it's not your normal vamp activity," Gunn's voice pulled Xander back to consciousness, and now Xander could hear a variety of soft sobs and angry curses and threats and promises.
"We'll gut the sons of bitches before we stake them," Luther promised darkly, and a chorus of voices passionately agreed.
"We can't go rushing into this; these vamps were ready and all our training didn't save Fredrick," Gunn replied when the voices finally dropped off into an angry murmur. "We need some intel and some bigger ammo. We're going to get them, but I won't have any more of us lost. I won't make the mistake of walking into another nest of these new vamps," Gunn continued. Xander knew that Gunn was taking the blame to save him, but Xander couldn't listen. He also couldn't admit his own guilt, so he took the only option open. Without a word, Xander pushed himself away from the supporting wall and supportive hand and he headed toward the door. Once out on the street, Xander looked at the quickly darkening sky, and began his long walk toward Safari. He couldn't decide if he was going to the club to work his shift or going to tell T that he couldn't work; he just knew that he had to keep moving, and so, with only a stake in the waistband of his jeans, he started off into the twilight.
Xander wandered down the street, passing old men sitting on steps and couples holding hands and mothers trying to herd entire flocks of children and he didn’t actually see any of them. Instead, Fredrick’ face floated through his memory as he wandered in the general direction of the club. Xander only looked up when a pair of black boots connected to a pair of black jeans suddenly blocked his forward progress. Xander looked up into the face of Blue Eyes—Spike.
“Hello pet,” Spike said with a quick flicker of his eyebrows making him appear like a man on the prowl, which he probably was, Xander realized. However, Xander just could not deal with another round of grope and kiss, so he simply turned to detour around the man. What should have been an easy maneuver on the wide sidewalk of the club district turned into a dance with Spike blocking Xander’s various attempts to evade. In fact, Xander found himself growing increasingly irritated after he attempted to use an oblivious couple to block Spike while he slipped by on the right. The attempt ended with Xander face to face with Spike again, only this time, Spike wore an expression that bordered between a smile and a smirk.
“Please move,” Xander finally asked in the most polite voice he could muster.
“Don’t wanna,” Spike announced with a shrug. “Havin’ fun here. Besides, I’m not a patient man, so the whole following you around plan—I’m revising it.”
“Really not interested today, blondie.” Xander felt his anger transform into a weariness and emptiness that threatened to make him sit down and cry in the middle of the sidewalk. “Now please, I have to get to work.” Xander tried to move around Spike once again, and once again Spike moved to intercept so that the pair of them simply moved two feet to the right.
“Like I said, not patient,” Spike repeated. “So you give me an answer and I’ll let you pass.” Xander waited for the request for a date, for dinner, for a quick fuck in a hotel room, whatever. He would say yes to anything and then just not show up later, he decided. It really was the quickest way to get rid of the man and be alone with his thoughts again.
“Tell me ‘bout Cassidy—where he’s hidin',” Spike whispered in a hiss as he leaned forward into Xander’s personal space. Xander was still nodding his head to his own internal thoughts when the words finally penetrated.
“Cassidy? I don’t know a Cassidy,” Xander protested as he now began to shake his head. Spike had mentioned him last night too, Xander now recalled. Maybe the blond had him confused with someone else.
“Pet, I wouldn’t take that route with me, I tend to be an unforgivin’ sort,” Spike made direct eye contact with Xander and for a moment, Xander thought he had lost his mind because the blue eyes slowly started showing flecks of gold, and then a ring of gold, and then Xander stopped breathing because he knew who he was facing. Or more precisely, he knew what he was facing. As the vampire’s eyes turned pure gold and then faded back into blue, Spike smiled again. “Care to revise you answer, then?” Spike asked.
“I…” Xander managed before his throat closed. “I…um…I…” he got out the second time. Xander tried to casually reach his hand back to the waistband of his jeans, but long before his fingers found the wood of his stake, Spike’s cool fingers closed around his wrist.
“Let’s take this conversation somewhere more private-like,” Spike said in a friendly tone as Xander felt a cool hand at the back of his jeans removing his stake without releasing his right wrist. Once the weapon had been tossed into the gutter, Spike threw his arm around Xander’s waist and started walking back the way Xander had come as if the two of them were best friends wandering down the street together.
Xander looked around at the crowds. He had been on plenty of vampire hunts, but he had always played back-up to Gunn, Luther and the others. Hell, even Alonna kicked his ass on a fairly regular basis. He didn’t know what to do without even a stake. He considered calling out for help, but he didn’t know how Spike would react, whether he would kill any hapless Good Samaritan who tried to come to Xander’s aid. Huh. Spike. Xander never knew vampires had names much less personalities. Always before they were mindless monsters stalking the night. Xander wondered whether it was better to be killed by a monster whose name you knew or by an anonymous demon who chose you because you happened to be there.
Even more, Xander wondered who the hell Cassidy was and just how long it would take Spike to kill him if he couldn’t tell Spike where to find the man. Obviously he deserved anything that Spike might do to him. In fact, Xander thought it had a sort of elegant symmetry. His stupidity had caused Fredrick’s death, and now his stupidity would cause his own death. Making up his mind to die without taking anyone else with him, Xander followed Spike’s lead without complaint.
Spike soon turned the corner, and Xander watched as the buildings became larger—the businesses gave way to warehouses and shipping yards. On one lot giant semi trucks squatted with their square headlights silently watching the couple. Xander felt Spike push at him, and he silently pressed his body through a gap between the fence and the huge rolling gate. The ends of the chain link scratched against his skin as he forced his way through the narrow space, and a cool grasp on his wrist held him in place as Spike gracefully followed with far less effort.
“Can we stop with the whole hand-holding thing here?” Xander asked testily. “Feel like we’re going steady,” he muttered as Spike continued to hold his hand even as they continued their journey deeper into the truck lot.
“And I thought you already had a steady,” Spike snapped back in a sharp enough tone that he lost a step, forcing Spike to give his arm a yank. As Xander gave a quick step to catch up, he finally decided that if he was going to die, he wasn’t going to be quiet about it.
“Since we both know what you are now, can we just stop with the sexual innuendo? Ya know, the thought of sex with a dead guy—kinda ew.”
“Didn’t seem to be a problem before,” Spike snarked back without turning to look.
“Kinda didn’t know you were dead then. So let’s skip the intro and go straight to the main event.”
“And what event would that be, luv?” Now Spike stopped at a metal door set into the side of a small, windowless concrete shed. He turned and Xander watched as Spike’s lowered his head and raised his eyebrows in the same expression that the night before caused him to come in the middle of Safari.
“Ok, just ewwwww,” Xander complained. “Dead guy sex. I’m thinking not.” The minute the words came out of Xander’s mouth it occurred to him that he really didn’t have a choice in the matter. If Spike wanted to go there, Xander didn’t have the strength or speed to stop him. The horror of his situation settled around him like a heavy cloak that made it difficult just to keep himself upright.
“Wot? Not good enough for ya’?” Spike demanded in a voice that suddenly dripped with both English accent and a dark menace that made Xander wish for a hole to open up under him. Damn it, he wasn't going to play the good little sacrificial victim.
“You mean other than the dead guy thing? Oh, there's the you being a killer thing, and the demon thing, and I really had my heart set on a church wedding, so I don't think the romance will work. After that, there's always the drinking blood thing, definitely designed to make romantic dinners instantly disgusting, and I always thought I'd take my first love sunbathing in Europe what with the naked beaches an all. However, I'd be glad to escort you into the sun any time you'd like.” Spike simply stood looking at Xander, their hands still connected even as Spike used his free hand to dig in a pocket.
When the key appeared, he realized that this was it. If he let this monster drag him into his lair, he would never see daylight again. He waited until Spike had his attention on unlocking the door, and then he wrenched his hand away. He stumbled back a couple of steps, still surprised the maneuver worked, but when he turned to run, to find a stake, to scream for help, to do something, he felt Spike barrel into him from behind. As his head and chest hit the hard ground of the parking lot, Xander felt the warm stickiness he always associated with blood loss. He would have reached up to feel the damage, but Spike had both hands pinned to the ground. Actually, Spike seemed to be sitting on Xander with his legs keeping Xander’s arms pinned close to his body. he could hear Spike’s soft cursing as Spike squirmed, but he barely had time to wonder what the vampire was doing before he felt his arms being pulled behind his back and leather lashing his wrists together. No one had ever accused Xander of being a genius, but then it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Spike had just used his belt to tie Xander’s hands.
“Bloody wanker. Try that again and I’ll decorate my floor with your guts,” Spike snapped as he slapped Xander across the back of the head far more gently than Xander expected. Of course anything less than a broken neck was actually less than Xander expected.
“Yeah, like that’s not going to happen anyway,” Xander immediately replied. He knew the score, and he somehow doubted that he actually could make anything worse.
“Probably, but there’s always a chance.” Xander felt strong fingers grab his upper arms and pull him to his feet. “Move,” Spike commanded as he pushed Xander toward the now open door. Realizing that the vampire could just as easily throw him down the stairs he could now see in the harsh glow of a bare bulb, Xander decided to play cooperative hostage—at least until he died, which right now, Xander was betting would be in a few hours. Unless he got lucky. If he got lucky, he could hope to die within the next few minutes.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Xander realized just how different Spike actually was. The vampire lairs he had raided with the crew were dirty holes with rats and stained mattresses strewn about the floor. Usually three, five, or even ten lived together in dark, dusty mildew and filth. Luckily, vampires usually cleaned up the bodies after eating, so Xander had never encountered the kind of stench they found the theater. However, Spike clearly didn't fit this stereotype. The room was a huge rectangle with gray cinderblock walls and four bare light bulbs hanging near the stairs. A large bed with shiny black sheets stood on one wall, and a large brown recliner sat nearby. On the wall by the stairs, Spike had even set up a stereo system and tiny television on a bookshelf with a poster of some strangely dressed rock stars somehow fastened to the cinder block wall above. The opposite wall hosted a huge metal storage cabinet. And the room's far end disappeared into darkness, leaving him with an impression of some huge space beyond the light. He felt as if he had entered some strange adolescent secret clubhouse. Spike gave him very little time to think, though. Spike shoved him toward the chair, and he barely had time to twist his body so that he landed on his butt instead of his face.
"Hey! Human here!" He struggled to get his legs untangled and get comfortable in the chair with his hands still tied.
"That's just too damn bad, innit?" Spike asked as he walked over to the bed and pulled out a bottle of whiskey from the far side. "All I need is some information, and you go all silent on me. So, how are we gonna handle this?"
"You're asking me?" he stared at Spike, who seemed to be intent on breaking every rule Xander knew about vampires. "I'm the guy who's tied up; I think that leaves it up to you."
"Could go the torture route, but you're already scared shitless and still not talkin'. Could take a while to break ya, and like I said, I'm not a patient man." Xander sucked in a breath of air, suddenly realizing that he hadn't been breathing for a moment. He would accept any excuse for avoiding torture, so he found himself blessing Spike's lack of patience.
"Suppose that leaves getting you drunk or shaggin' you to try and turn your demon."
"My what?!" Xander practically screamed. He may not know what shagging meant, but he sure as hell didn't have a demon, meaning Spike really did have the wrong person. He couldn't decide what he felt about that because a tiny little voice in the back of his head screamed that being here felt right. Okay, where the hell did that thought come from?
"Your demon, pet. Didn't Cassidy tell ya' that your demon can be turned?" Spike calmly took a drink from his bottle and settled back on the bed. "So, is it going be shaggin'?" Spike patting the bed.
"Oh shit," Xander said as he finally figured out what shagging meant. "You really don't want me; I know dozens of guys that are a whole lot better looking than me, and I eat so many donuts in a day that I'll probably just give you this whole sugar rush and then you'll get a headache and be really cranky, 'cause those sugar highs can really make your head, well, ache…" Xander's words trailed off as he realized three things. One: he was babbling, again. Two: his babble seemed to amuse Spike if the smile was any indication. Three: Xander Jr. didn't object to the thought of shagging nearly as much as Xander thought he should.
"Almost like having my Dru back," Spike said in a voice that sounded strangely sad and quiet for a monster about to commit rape; however, Xander knew a choice diversion when he spotted one.
"Dru?" he asked, praying Spike would take the bait. On one hand he didn't know why he was trying to put off the inevitable, but on the other hand he just wanted a few more minutes to pray for a miracle.
"My dark princess. We were together better part of a century." Spike closed his eyes tightly and his demon form rippled to the surface for a moment as he took a deeper drink from the bottle. Xander felt a small stirring of sympathy in his own heart. Then Spike's face suddenly turned hard and gold eyes pinned Xander to the chair. "Your master killed her, and I'm gonna kill him."
"No master here. No master, no demon, apparently no common sense either based on today's track record."
"What are you up to?" Spike said, standing up and walking over to loom over him with his eyes still showing more gold than blue. He shivered at the sight.
"Up to? I seem to be up to getting kidnapped by a hyperactive vampire who may be suffering delusions and probably is suffering multiple personality disorder."
"Don't taunt the vampire, pet." Spike said without rancor as he reached down and grabbed the lapel of Xander's Hawaiian shirt. Xander flinched as the hand descended, but Spike simply grabbed the fabric and ripped it. Xander yelped as the fabric dug into his armpit, but then the shirt tore leaving his shoulder bare. "And what is this, then?" Spike asked as he began to rub the reddish scar on his neck.
"Oh shit," Xander once again exclaimed, only this time the words were flavored with desire rather than panic.
"Pet?" Spike asked hesitantly. He opened his eyes when Spike stopped his gentle rubbing and found Spike looking down at him in full game face: bumps, ridges, fangs, and all. What caused the hysterical laughter, however, was the look of utter confusion on that face. Xander laughed so hard his stomach hurt, but then he felt a hand around his throat that slammed him back against the chair so hard that Xander had no doubt that he would have died if Spike pushed him equally hard into a solid surface instead of the soft, bumpy fabric of the chair. Now the hand tightened, and Xander struggled to breathe, his feet involuntarily kicking as he started to truly panic. Just as soon as Xander realized that he had reached the end of his short and rather unproductive life, he also realized that Spike had let him go and that air could flow into his abused lungs.
"Laugh at me again, and I'll strip every piece of skin from your back before I kill you," Spike announced in a voice so cold that he didn't even recognize it. He looked up into Spike's face and realized that the vampire meant every word of his threat. For that moment, the personality disappeared and all that was left was raw fury and aggression.
"I just didn't…I mean…I never thought of a vampire as ever getting confused," Xander tried to explain. When the face remained hard and angry, Xander tried another approach. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again," he promised, and he found himself meaning it. At those words, Spike's features slowly retreated into human curves and angles, but the way Spike quickly turned his back reminded Xander of himself. Xander suspected that this vampire liked being laughed at as much as he liked it when others always laughed at his cheap clothes, clumsiness, or inability to keep a job. Of course Xander had learned to laugh with the tormenters, to befriend them and take the sting out of the insults by insulting himself; however, Spike was a beautiful, powerful hunter. Insult him, and you could find yourself spread out across several acres before he actually allowed you to die. Part of Xander envied that strength, but only part. The larger part of Xander screamed in terror that a mentally unstable vampire had him tied up in a secret lair. Great plot for a bad T.V. movie of the week; bad situation for real life.
"What's wrong with your mark?" Spike finally demanded after a silence so long that Xander was beginning to believe it was a new form of torture.
"What mark? You mean my scar?" he asked, this time ready to truly listen to Spike instead of just issuing general denials. If Spike had human emotions like shame or love, maybe he had enough sympathy for Xander to talk his way out of this.
"Yeah, mate. Your scar, why do you respond to me?" Xander noticed that the "pet" had been replaced by "mate" and for a brief moment, he felt offended. Then he just felt confused at his own reaction.
"Since yesterday, I just get a little…" he searched for a polite word for his reactions, "a little excited when anyone touches it…even myself," he finally finished in a whisper.
"It only happened starting yesterday?" Spike turned back around, and he sighed in relief when he saw ice-blue eyes.
"Well, yeah," Xander agreed as he squirmed to try and ease the pressure on his arms which had begun to ache.
"Sit still," Spike ordered brusquely, but he also walked over and pushed Xander's torso forward so that he could reach the belt and undo the clasp. "Does it react to Cassidy too?"
"Spike, I am telling you the honest truth here," Xander said, and then he waited for Spike to finish freeing his arms so that he could look Spike in the eye when he finished his sentence. When Spike finally pulled back with the belt in his hand, Xander pulled his arms in front of him and struggled to not rub them as he deliberately made eye contact and tried to simply will Spike to believe him, "I. Do. Not. Know. Cassidy." For a moment, the two men looked at each other and Xander felt a rising desperation at Spike's lack of reaction. If Spike didn't believe this, he had no hope left.
"Cassidy left that mark," Spike finally said.
"You mean you're looking for a *vampire*?" Xander asked. The emphasis on the last word made his incredulity clear.
"I *am* a vampire, pet, who did you think I'd be looking for?" Spike words were spoken softly, but the eyes once again flickered gold.
"No, I mean why come to me if you're looking for a vampire? I haven't seen the guy who did this for about four years. And when I do see vampires, I tend to run and hide behind someone with a really big stake, so I don’t really take names."
"You mean he took you as a pet and then left you?" Spike asked as he now crouched down and started that same nervous bounce he had the first time Xander had seen him in the club. Xander didn't realize he had been rubbing his sore arms until Spike took his left arm in his hands and began vigorously rubbing to help circulation return. "What did ya call him if he didn't give you his name?"
"Who Cassidy?" Oh yeah, the rubbing of the arms felt wonderful, so wonderful he hadn't quite caught all the question.
"Bloody hell, pet, is there any other vampire we've been talking about?" Spike stopped, and he had to curb the urge to whine at Spike to start again.
"I didn't call him anything except maybe, 'Who the hell' when he bit me. After he bit me I tended to call him things like 'that asshole bloodsucker who bit me.'" Xander returned to the task of rubbing his own arms. They didn't really hurt anymore, but he needed to do something, and since Spike had now taken up pacing, he didn't want to risk a mid-stride collision.
"Pet, I'm still confused as hell here, so you tell me every minute of your relationship with that wanker." Spike still paced, but now the confusion had been replaced with an expression that frightened him even more. As Spike paced, he flipped his leather coat and pursed his lips in a way that suggested either deep thought or constipation.
"Well, the whole thing took less than a minute, so it's a pretty short story. I was walking; it was about two weeks before the start of sophomore year, and I had a pretty big fight with my best friend over the phone…"
"Xander, I need the vampire bits. I love a good soap, but it'll have to wait for later." Spike interrupted, and Xander bit down on his desire to tell Spike exactly where to shove his vampire bits.
"Fine," is what he said more sharply than he intended, but Spike only gave him one of those looks with one eyebrow raised higher than the other. "I was walking. I got bit. The vampire ran away," Xander said with his arms crossed. Spike only sighed deeply and sat on the side of the bed facing Xander.
"It really is like trying to get a story out of Dru," Spike mumbled as he scanned the room. When he walked over to the shelf where he had deposited the whiskey some time during the earlier drama, Xander realized that the vampire had probably reached the end of his patience.
"I was walking out late when a vampire grabbed me, pulled me into an alley and bit me," Xander began again before the vampire went back to the earlier three options of torture, rape, or forced drunkenness. "I thought I was dead, but these two black guys came into the alley and ran toward us. The one, Luther, held up a crossbow, but the second one, Gunn signaled Luther to not shoot with me in the way. Gunn ran right up to the vamp who was still feeding and hit him in the face with a bat. Then Gunn pulled me down to the ground with him while Luther let loose with his crossbow. The crossbow didn't hit the heart, so the vampire ran away." Xander finished and waited for Spike to respond since the blond was now smiling and nodding his head happily.
"He bled on you," Spike said confidently as he returned and sat on the bed.
"Well, yeah," he agreed, still confused about the source of Spike's amusement. The 'no laughing' rule obviously only worked one way because Spike now softly laughed to himself.
"Bloody wanker made a pet by accident," Spike finally announced before he broke out laughing and fell back onto the bed. "Only that git could manage to fuck up making a pet." Spike wheezed after the laughter finally subsided.
"Hey! Pet is definitely added to my list of no's. No master, no demon, no pet and no common sense," he repeated his list from earlier with the new addition.
"Wait one minute," Spike said and all laughter disappeared immediately. He really was beginning to wonder whether a vampire could get multiple personality disorder from his host. "How did you know those hunters' names? How'd you know their signals?" Spike demanded suspiciously.
"Cause I joined their crew?" Xander returned uncertainly. He didn't want another trip to the land of no air, but he realized that he had trapped himself by giving away so many details.
"*You're* a vampire hunter?" Spike asked, the humor returning as laugh lines appeared in the corners of his eyes.
"Sort of. I mostly help the injured and call for backup if there's trouble. I have a bit of a reputation for getting in trouble when I try to take on a vamp myself," he admitted. "I once dropped my stake as I was bringing it up to dust a vampire. Even tripped on my own toe during a fight, so don’t expect me to put on any demonstrations of physical prowess," Xander looked at his own shoes, ratty old sneakers. He had hoped to replace them with tonight's tips, but he clearly wasn't working tonight. He wasn't even sure if he would survive the night, so shoes really should be the least of his worries, but he still studied them intently.
"Pet, that was probably the demon in you," Spike said in a soft voice. Xander didn't move, but Spike continued. "A pet only has a small part of a demon, so it will always seek a stronger leader to follow. Demon didn't want those vampires dead, it wanted to be claimed by one. That's what I meant when I told you a pet can be turned to serve a new master. If a master vampire can dominate a pet—prove that he is stronger than the pet's old master, then the pet may change allegiance."
"I'm not a pet," Xander insisted as he looked up, expecting to see Spike laughing at him, at his situation which was beginning to sound entirely too possible; however, Spike simply returned his gaze calmly and with an expression that he might have described as sympathy on any other face.
"Actually, I'm not sure what you are, but the closest name would probably be a pet," Spike calmly replied as he went to the metal storage cabinet and opened it. "Sometimes a vampire wants control over a human, and so he forces some of his own blood and with it some of his demon into the bite. Then all he has to do is dominate the demon, and the demon will force the human to act. It's kind of a shortcut for brainwashing, like a thrall."
"So I'm a demon?" Xander asked as he fought not to hyperventilate.
"No, pets only have a bit of demon in them, but that bit will push. You have to be strong to hold your own against the demon's desires, but it can be done."
"And the problem is my demon was never…dominated?" Xander practically squeaked out the last word.
"Yep, you have the demon, but the demon has never had a master either beat or frighten or fuck him into submission, so it's left with just you to contend with. Give him a strong master, and you may find your desires and fears basically hijacked by a demon desperate to please his master." Spike confirmed his worst fear without pulling his head out of the storage cabinet.
"But why would a vampire do that?" Xander asked in a near panic as he thought back over the last four years: the feelings that sometimes floated to the surface, the desires he shoved into the part of his brain he labeled "sick fantasies" and then tried to forget.
"Sometimes a vampire wants to keep a human close, either to use as a pet or to give the human time to grow a bit before taking him as a childe…"
"A childe?" Xander asked curiously.
"Bloody hell, don't you know anything about vampires?" Spike gently chided, and Xander could almost hear him roll his eyes. However, the next sound sent Xander's heart racing, and the moment of sharing disappeared as he returned to the tried and true sarcastic approach to life that served him when everything seemed to get out of control.
"If you stick a stake in their hearts, they turn into little floaty bits of ash. That's all I ever needed to know," he snapped sardonically even as Spike turned around with the chains in his hands. He knew that fighting was useless, but he gripped the arms of the chair in an attempt to keep himself from doing something stupid when he seemed so close to actually surviving this encounter.
"Pet," Spike said softly, and Xander was reminded of the way people on TV sometimes talked to spooked animals. "I just need to make sure you stay here while I do a bit of research." Spike inched forward as if he expected Xander to go crazy on him at any minute.
"Oh for god's sake, just do it," Xander sighed as he held his trembling arms out. Before he had a chance to reconsider, cold metal closed around his wrists, and Spike crouched in front of him with one hand holding the metal chain connecting the two manacles and the other hand running over Xander's hair.
"Beautiful curls," Spike said as Xander sat there fighting the tears. "Dru used to have me curl her hair; she'd love your curls. Probably keep your body around for weeks until I made her throw it out," he finished and Xander's eyes, which had begun to fall closed at the petting, flew open.
"Um, thanks?" he replied uncertainly. "I think. That was a compliment, right?" Spike only chuckled.
"Come on," Spike used the connecting chain as a leash as he pulled Xander to his feet. Once standing, Xander's shirt started falling off his shoulders, and he realized he had to pee. Spike solved the first by simply tearing the rest of the shirt off his back, but when Spike began pulling him toward the bed, he planted his feet. As soon as the chain went taut, Spike gave a small growl, "Pet," his voice carried a clear warning as he turned to look.
"I really have to go to the bathroom," Xander admitted. "Maybe we could just go up into the parking lot?" He really didn't want to even think about how Spike would react to finding pee in his bed.
"Or you could use the bathroom," Spike said gesturing toward a door behind the stairs where Xander had first walked in.
"You have a bathroom?" Xander asked, confused.
"This place came with one—it's a bomb shelter, you idiot." This time Xander actually saw Spike roll his eyes. He also watched as Spike dropped the chain leash, and dug around in his duster's pockets until he found a cigarette and lighter. "Get in and get out within five minutes because I will not be happy if I have to break down that door to get you out again," Spike warned as Xander started to walk away.
"Got it," Xander replied before opening the door and finding himself in a hallway. The door at the end was barred and padlocked as were the two doors on the left, which meant the bathroom must be the door on the right. Xander opened the door to find what he considered to be a pretty standard locker room bathroom minus the urinals. Four sinks each had a mirror, three yellow bathroom stalls, and an open doorway into a shower area. Xander scooted into one of the stalls, noticing as he passed the shower room that someone had set a giant old-fashioned tub in the middle and run pipes from the fixtures on the wall to the bathtub taps.
Xander spent only one or two minutes in the stall, so he had time to check out the damage to his face when he went to wash up. He had been right earlier; Spike's tackle had left a gash on the left side of his forehead. Taking a hand towel from the floor and praying it was fairly clean, Xander wet the cloth and began to awkwardly wash the wound with his chained hands. It didn't look too bad and even the rough towel had only caused a small trickle, so Xander assumed it would be fine and returned to Spike before his time was over.
When he reached the main room, the cigarette had disappeared, but the smoke lingered in the air. Spike went to reach for the chain, but when Spike looked up, he could see vampire eyes go to the still bleeding cut. Spike reached out and ran a finger along the length of the wound and then brought it to his mouth.
"Bloody hell, pet. You're not local." Spike exclaimed as his eyes went wide.
"What do you mean? I grew up in California," Xander protested as he went to reach up to touch the wound, but Spike's hold on the chain stopped him.
"You grew up in Sunnyhell," Spike corrected him.
"You mean Sunnydale?" When Spike nodded, he laughed. "Sunnydale *is* in California. Hell, it's only about two hours away, so I think I still count as a native."
"Sunnyhell is the home of the hellmouth, pet, and your blood fairly sings with the taste of hellmouth. No wonder Cassidy got too distracted to notice your vampire hunters." Spike took a step back and pulled Xander with him to the bed. This time Xander didn't protest. Whatever Spike planned, Xander knew he didn't really have a choice in the matter. "Vampires from all over go to the hellmouth to eat a couple of humans—best tasting blood around, except Slayer blood of course," Spike had now pulled Xander over to the wall and padlocked the leash to a ring set into the wall. Xander realized that he would never pull that loose, so he simply sat himself on the side of the bed. Suddenly something occurred to him.
"There are vampires in Sunnydale?" he asked in a near panic.
"More demons in Sunnydale than humans by some accounts. Never been there myself," Spike confirmed. "Why?"
"Willow," he whispered. "What if she's not okay?"
"Friend of yours?"
"Yes," Xander quickly replied, but then he revised himself in a much softer voice, "No, not really. Just somebody I used to know."
"Yeah, well if she's survived this long, she can take care of herself," Spike pointed out before he gave Xander's leg a pat and started walking away. "Sleep tight."
"What? You're leaving?" Xander asked in confusion. Somehow the chains and the bed had suggested to him that Spike had decided to take advantage of Xander's little uninvited guest.
"What? Want my company now?" Spike asked with a prurient leer. "Sorry luv, but if I want to use you as bait, I have to make sure you keep smelling like Cassidy, which means I don't get to bite or fuck you," Spike laughed as he climbed the stairs. "Be good now," he called from the top as he locked the door. Xander leaned back on the bed. Most of him breathed with relief at the thought of escaping certain death or rape…so far. A small part of him howled in outrage at not being taken, and Xander could now feel the alien nature of the small voice that had lived with him for so long. The logical part of his brain finally recovered from the hours of panic to register Spike's last words.
"Bait?" Xander howled as he jerked at the chains that held him. "Shit."