Musical Wars
Chapter 6 -- Taking Sides
“Spike, I’m not sure this is such a great idea, what with the whole he probably knows you’re a vampire and he’ll try to stake you when we walk though that door thing.” Xander said as they stood in the shadows of twilight looking at the club door. The club opened in thirty minutes, but the street was still quiet.
“Oi, can take care of myself,” Spike snorted
“Yeah, I don’t doubt that, but I don’t want you taking care of yourself to result in T having massive arterial bleeding.”
“I won’t kill your little friends, luv; now move your arse before ya get yourself fired and put an end to this discussion.”
“I just know I’m going to regret this,” Xander complained as he considered the doors of the club.
“That’s rich coming from someone who used to dress like a soddin’ game show reject.”
“Sticks and stones,” he chanted in response as he pushed open the doors to the club. He nodded at the black-vested doorman who gave a quizzical glance toward Spike. Xander reached back and felt Spike's hand slip inside of his, and the bouncer wordlessly stepped aside and allowed them to pass. Inside, the same tired-looking men cleaned the same tables; the same grey-haired bartender wrote in the same ledger; and the same old Mexican man wandered from one island of greenery to another watering the same plants. Somehow he had expected some sort of response, but maybe Gunn hadn’t gotten around to telling T yet. Suddenly that thought terrified him more than facing an angry T.
“Darlin’, you need to get your ass in gear and get back to that kitchen,” shouted a voice from under the bar.
“T?” he called. The man appeared with a bandana wrapped around his head and a wrench in his hand.
“Damn beer tap won’t work right. What the hell are all these gay men doin’ drinking beer anyway?” T swore as he put the wrench on the bar. The nearby bartended simply grunted.
“Can I, ah, talk to you? That is, if you’re not busy or anything because I don’t want to interrupt if you’re busy just so that we can, um, talk ‘cause we can talk later…if you’re busy.”
“Good lord, the boy’s started babbling,” T laughed, but it sounded more nervous than genuine. “I am busy, but if you need to talk, you just go on and do it.”
“I was hoping for some privacy.” Xander sneaked a look over to the bartender who now looked up with one eyebrow raised in a strangely Spike-like gesture.
“If you and your vamp need privacy, rent one of the back rooms because there are some things that even I get squicked by,” the bartender wryly commented. Xander felt the bottom drop out of his stomach as the world suddenly tilted on its axis, south becoming north and east turning west.
“I, uh,” he froze, unable to even create babble to fill such an awkward moment.
“Ta mate, don’t think you’d object if ya saw us in action. Boy’s a bloody treat to watch all squirmin’ and moanin’,” Spike quipped back.
“Oh. God. No. There will be no discussion of my sex life in any way, shape, or form. No, no, no, and once more for emphasis, NO.”
“Kinda limits our topics, pet,” Spike said as he stepped up and leaned on the bar. “Don’t think your mates really want to hear ‘bout the time Angelus and I dropped in on this weddin’ to give the couple our regards and have a spot to drink.”
He looked at Spike leaning against the bar and for one moment he could see what others must see--the cold and calculating eyes scanning every inch of the club and every person in it, the casual discussion of blood and death, the tense and coiled muscles clearly ready to spring at any provocation. Shit, no wonder Gunn thought he’d lost either his mind or his humanity, but then he blinked, and he recognized the tenseness as Spike’s worry for him, and he suspected that the reference to the wedding murders was more a warning than anything else. If they knew better than to attack Spike, then Spike wouldn’t need to kill them. He remembered that at one time he had wondered if Spike had some sort of multiple personality disorder, but now he thought of the cold killer and the loving partner as inseparable parts of the same personality.
“Subtle, but then compared to the only other vampire I’ve met, you actually do pass for subtle,” T remarked quietly while clearly trying to edge away. For that matter, the bartender had grown very fond of his ledger, gazing at it as if the meaning of life could be found within the columns of numbers.
“Not like most vamps,” Spike agreed, and Xander could only groan.
“When did I fall into the Twilight Zone?” he asked no one in particular. “Once upon a time I had a nice simple life--hunted a few vamps, got fired by a few jobs, failed a few math tests, got used as bait now and again. Now I have weirdness.” He watched T’s face slowly settle into a smile. “I assume Gunn called?”
“More like ranted,” T confirmed. “Came in several hours ago, just before we headed home this morning, so Pete and I were the only ones who got the pleasure of listening to him rage for nearly an hour.” T jabbed a thumb toward the bartender who nodded at the introduction.
“And you don’t mind?” Xander hated how needy and small his voice sounded, but faced with the chance of regaining some part of his life, he felt an overwhelming need to do so.
“Won’t go that far, darlin’,” T commented. “You bet your sweet ass I mind you hooking up with a vamp, but it’s your life, and I trust you haven’t completely lost your mind.” T’s words sent him both sailing and crashing. T trusted him and that meant more than he could possibly express, but at the same time, T trusted him after knowing him a week and Gunn didn’t. Of course, maybe that *was* the explanation. Maybe T trusted him because he hadn’t known him long enough to know what a screw up he truly was. “And I’m also trusting that your vamp isn’t going to start snacking on the customers. I’m having a hard time keeping the club going as it is; if people start disappearing outta here, I’m never going to turn a profit.”
“Oi, not some fledge to go snackin’ on the locals without bein’ careful.”
“Can I assume that ‘being careful’ in this case means not eating any locals inside my club?” T turned and directly addressed Spike for the first time.
“Deal, mate,” Spike said solemnly.
“I think I’ve lost what little mind I started with,” T complained as he held out a hand over the bar. Spike took the extended hand and shook it without even a touch of sarcasm. “And I’m assuming what Gunn said about you enslaving Xander is a load of crap.”
“Yeah, mate, it is.” Spike agreed.
“I just don’t get it,” Xander said softly. “Why can you and Cordelia accept this and Gunn can’t?”
“Don’t matter, pet,” Spike said softly.
“I’ve known Gunn for eleven years,” T started, and Xander turned to him, hoping for some sort of explanation. “He doesn’t take to change; he wants the world to follow his rules. Can be a bit of closed-minded bastard, truth be told.” Xander had never thought of Gunn in such terms, but hearing T say it without anger or bitterness made him wonder if the man could be right. “He’s hurt because he lost his sister and the man he thought of as a little brother all in a couple of days.”
“He didn’t lose me,” Xander insisted, trying to ignore the suddenly sour expression on Spike’s face. It occurred to him that Spike probably still wanted to spread Gunn’s guts all over south L.A.
“For Gunn, you’re either totally in his corner and you do what he wants you to do or you’re against him. And sweetie, it doesn’t help that he’s never seen you and Spike together.”
“Oh, he saw us together alright,” he responded, remembering Gunn’s glare when he had slipped an arm around Spike the previous evening.
“From what I hear, he got a front row seat for you standing up for Spike,” T said hesitantly. He paused, obviously struggling to find words. “I saw you together last night, before I knew you had taken the concept of unsafe sex to new heights. I saw how you looked at Spike, and I saw how Spike looked at you. The look I saw had a whole lot of mutual lust and affection, but not the evil that Gunn described.” T sighed deeply. “I guess I can handle having a vampire bouncer around.”
“Oi, don’t work for ya, so don’t push it,” Spike warned. T only laughed, his voice still a little thin to sound entirely natural.
“I had to have a bouncer watch out for Xander; he tended to attract a lot of attention. Whether you’re pulling a paycheck from me or not, I suspect that you’re taking over that job,” T pointed out. Spike had stood up defiantly at the thought of taking a job from a human, but now that he understood T’s logic, he settled back into his nonchalant lean against the bar.
“Takin’ care of the boy’s my job,” he confirmed.
“Figured. So, do you drink? I mean the alcoholic type of drinking because that was not an invitation for another story.”
“Wouldn’t mind a JD,” Spike said with a smirk when T lost his composure.
“Drinks on the house as long as you don’t drink anyone in the house,” T said as he picked up the wrench and disappeared under the bar again. “And you get your ass into the kitchen before Ross comes out here and yells at me for holding up his assistant,” T ordered from under the bar. Xander took one look at Pete who continued to count bottles and write numbers in columns and Spike who leaned back against the bar and watched the workers as if he had nothing better to do. Hoping that the truce held, he headed for the kitchen to load nut and chip bowls while Ross fixed the snacks that required cooking.
When Xander took food to the farthest stations before the club opened, he could see Spike motionless at the bar, a drink now balanced in one hand. When the club doors opened and the first few customers wandered in, he watched Spike standing in the middle of the milling customers. When the strippers started on the runway and the customers started catching random feels with quick darts inside his jeans, Spike's eyes never left him from the time he walked out of the kitchen to the time he walked back through the doors.
At first he tried to keep an eye on Spike, hoping that some random human wouldn't hit on him or vomit on him or do something else worthy of dying, but after a while the crowds thickened and he found himself concentrating on the food. He had almost forgotten his silent watcher when he felt a strong arm wind around his waist. He turned to convince some random drunk to let him go, but he found himself face to face with Spike.
"Got to go take care of some business, pet," Spike announced.
"Business as in…?"
"Business as in doing some vamp shoppin'. Need to check out the possible candidates for kingship," Spike explained with a small laugh. "Not going to go eat any soddin' girl scouts. Just want to let Carlos know to keep an eye on ya."
"I don't need babysitting, Spike."
"Pet, I'm not leavin' ya without someone to back you up." He could tell from the serious look in Spike's eyes that he had just reached the end of his metaphorical leash. "So we're goin' to go talk to Carlos." He felt the arm firmly guide him toward the side where Carlos stood watching over the crowd. As they walked up, he saw Carlos' surprised expression as Spike stopped inches away from the bouncer.
"Need to do some business, thought I'd ask ya to keep an eye on Xander, here."
"Sure," Carlos sounded hesitant; however, Carlos' eyes then widened in fear and surprise. When he looked at Spike, he could see yellow eyes flashing in the dim light.
"Shit, Spike," Xander complained, “Not exactly low profile."
"Xander?" Carlos asked, obviously confused.
"Just thought I'd just let him know the stakes before I left him watchin' over my pet," Spike said softly enough that only Carlos and Xander could hear, but the tone left no doubt about his seriousness.
"Okay, we have to talk about this unnecessary random threats thing," Xander said as he stepped between Spike and Carlos, hoping none of the nearby customers had noticed the strange events or stranger conversation.
"Holy shit, Xander, what have you gotten into?" Carlos asked in an equally low voice.
"Oi, none of your business," Spike quickly retorted. "Just need ya to look out for him while I'm out. Trust you lot, your people have a reputation for standin' by their word, but I want to make sure ya know the score."
"Spike? What are you talking about?" Xander asked as he looked in confusion from the smug expression on Spike's face to the embarrassment on Carlos'.
"He's a demon, pet. Can smell him. He's a Largis."
"A quarter Largis," Carlos quickly interrupted, and Xander found himself staring wide-eyed at the bouncer. "Don't really have much to do with that part of the family, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't spread this around." Carlos' eyes darted around the room in a good imitation of panic, an expression Xander had never associated with the calm bouncer.
"No skin off me, mate. You keep Xander safe, and I'll put ya on the ‘don't kill, maim, or publicly humiliate list’."
"I don't know if…" Carlos began.
"Course if he gets hurt, I'll make ya sorry ya were ever born." Xander felt a cold tingling down his backbone when he heard the tone of Spike's words and then the vampire turned in a swirl of black leather and disappeared into the crowd. He turned to glance at Carlos who still stood as if shocked into immobility.
"Guess you're with me tonight," Carlos shrugged and then waved a hand suggesting that they both get to work.
The rest of the shift went by in a normal stream of gropes, embraces, and drunk men taking food from his tray while making obscene remarks. If Carlos stayed a little closer than normal, he wasn’t going to say anything. No matter how long he looked, he couldn’t see anything other than human. He noticed that in return Carlos spent a lot of time watching him with a guarded, worried expression that either meant that the man questioned his sanity for hooking up with Spike or suspected that Spike wouldn’t keep his secret.
“Got to take a bathroom break.” Carlos suddenly appeared at his right side, and Xander shifted the tray of empty bowls to one side with quiet efficiency.
“Go on, then. I’ll be fine. Just gonna get some more pizza squares out,” he replied off-handedly as he scanned the crowd: Well-dressed possible tippers in the far north end; rowdy twenty-somethings to avoid near the bar, and snotty Luis dancing down the runway.
“Oh, I don’t even think so. If I’m off the floor, you’re off the floor,” Carlos said a tone sharper than he had ever heard the other man use.
“Not a child here; I’ll be fine.”
“Last time you said that you ended up getting targeted by a vampire,” Carlos pointed out with a pained expression.
“Yeah, but now that vampire is off somewhere playing his little vampire games, so all’s well.” Xander nearly had to shout to be heard over the music Luis used for his dance number. He only hoped that no one was really listening to their conversation.
“And that vampire’s your master now, and he’ll skin me alive if something happens to you, quite literally.” Carlos stepped closer, and he could feel the man’s body heat as Carlos reached out put a strong hand on his arm, pulling him gently toward the back. With a sigh at how little control he seemed to have over his own life, Xander followed. In the kitchen, he dropped the tray on the prep table before following Carlos back to the hallway with the bathroom.
“I’ll wait right here,” he promised as he leaned on the wall outside the bathroom. From the suspicious look Carlos gave him, for one moment he feared that Carlos would make him come in the bathroom. He leaned back against the wall and gave Carlos his best ‘you’ve got to be kidding’ glare until Carlos finally went into the bathroom alone.
“So, am I allowed back on the floor now?” Xander demanded sarcastically when Carlos reappeared a minute or two later. He watched Carlos’ expression go from shock to frustration to profound sadness.
“Xander, I’m so sorry,” Carlos said sadly.
“For what?” Xander knew that he sometimes did the whole spacing out and not noticing thing, but he honestly couldn’t think of any reason why Carlos had to apologize to him.
“If I’d been out there when he spotted you, I might have kept this from happening.” Carlos waved a hand in the air indicating the whole general situation. He suddenly realized what Carlos had assumed.
“Carlos, I’ve had a vampire mark for four years--since a vamp named Cassidy marked me. Spike just sort of moved in and took over.”
“But…then why were you here?”
“Oh man, long story, longer than I really want to go into now, but I will say this—if Spike hadn’t stepped in, some other vamp eventually would have, so I can’t say I’m sorry it was Spike who made a move.”
“But Xander,” Carlos interrupted, “you’ve become a marked human, a pet. You’ll never have the freedom to make your own choices again.” Xander leaned back and thought about how to answer Carlos truthfully while still making him understand.
“I know I don’t have certain choices,” he began uncertainly. “But Spike isn’t Cassidy. He doesn’t keep me sitting at his feet with no chance to do what I want.” He stopped when he saw the doubt clear in Carlos’ face. “It’s like…I told Spike that I felt worthless in a fight, and if he had given me a choice, I would have kept feeling worthless and just avoided fighting, but he didn’t give me a choice, and so I learned some moves I’m really proud of.”
“So he’s a good master?” Carlos asked uncertainly, still looking at him as if he had lost his mind. Well, he didn’t have a good grasp on it to begin with, so if he lost it, there wouldn’t be much difference.
“I wouldn’t call him ‘master’ exactly,” he replied, grimacing at the term.
“And what would you call him?”
“The vampire who tells me what to do, where to go and what to wear?” Xander responded with a crooked smile. "But that’s okay because he gives some really cool presents.” Xander bent down and reached into his boot. When they had been ready to leave, Spike had handed him this and knelt down to show him how to wear it without having it irritate his foot. Now he pulled the silver dagger out of the sheath inside his boot. Carlos gave a whistle.
“That’s demon work--a beautiful weapon,” Carlos said appreciatively as he held out a hand for the weapon. Xander surrendered it and watched as Carlos turned the blade to examine the edge. He whistled again.
“Yeah, Spike didn’t like the fact that I kinda forgot my weapon when we went to see Angel,” he confessed.
“Angel?” Carlos asked absent-mindedly even while continue to admire the blade with its intricate etching.
“His sire or his sire’s sire-something like that.”
“He introduced you to his line?” Carlos’ head snapped up in with near comical speed.
“He took me to see Angel.” Xander took back the blade that Carlos held out and replaced it in his boot.
“He’s not a normal vamp, that’s for sure.” Carlos sighed heavily. “Normally a vamp will keep his pets away from older or stronger vamps rather than risk having the pets taken away.”
“Yeah, Angel and I had that conversation. I sorta offered to stake him if he even tried to do that.” He remembered the look on Angel’s face when Spike had carried him out of Cassidy’s lair. Carlos nearly choked on his own laughter.
“Only you,” he finally coughed out.
“Yep, I’m one of a kind,” Xander agreed. “So, is little ol' me allowed back on the floor now?”
“Don’t mock me,” Carlos said with a teasing cuff to the back of the head. “If I let one hair get pulled out of your head, your Spike really will turn me inside out and leave my body in pieces.”
“And I so wish I thought you were joking,” Xander replied, but he realized that Carlos wasn’t joking. Maybe Carlos’ paranoia was a little justified since Spike wouldn’t have any trouble killing the bouncer. Maybe he should be a little more sympathetic and accept Carlos’ overly protective attitude.
“Come on, back to work,” Carlos said as he headed for the kitchen ahead of Xander.
Four hours later, Xander stood in the empty, dirty club and handed Carlos his share of the nightly tips before pocketing the rest. Carlos accepted the money warily while watching Spike lean against the bar with a glass of alcohol in hand.
“You really don’t have to,” Carlos said for the second time as he held the money without putting it away.
“All the performers tip the bouncers, T just said I should just tip you directly when you spend the evening pulling drunks off me.”
“It’s alright,” Spike said as he walked up. “Largis don’t take money for their work, pet; think it’s crass.” Spike said quietly, and Xander felt the arm slip into its normal place against his lower back.
“But I’m not offerin’ money, and what you and Xander work out, that’s between you, mate.” He watched as Carlos’ eyes narrowed in consideration. Finally the hand disappeared into his jeans as Carlos pocketed his share.
“Deal,” he said to Spike.
“Come on then, pet. Nice night for some action, innit?”
“Oh shit, I think that depends on the action,” Xander complained without malice. He felt the familiar arm guide him out the door and he stopped dead when he saw the figure waiting. A tall, thin, red-hair black man leaned against a street lamp.