Second Verse
Chapter 8 -- The Big Plan
The second time Xander awoke, he found himself alone in bed. The chains had disappeared, but when Xander rolled over, he found that the wet spot hadn't entirely.
"Ew" he quickly rolled back and started slipping out of bed. He froze when he realized something was missing.
"You made the mess," Came the comment from the brown chair where Spike sat wearing headphones and reading a thick book with a faded green cover.
"Doesn't mean I want to lie in it. Uh, Spike, where are my clothes?" he held the black sheet in front of him since his jeans and underwear had now totally disappeared.
"Burned 'em."
"What?! I am so not walking around naked!"
"Well that is a thought," Spike leered over his book with an expression suggesting that Spike was having a naughty idea. For just a moment it frightened him that he knew Spike so well after just one full night and two sexual encounters.
"What?" Xander asked suspiciously.
"We're actually going out later, and I'm just picturing leading you through all those people with you lookin' so well-shagged and starkers."
"You know, you should probably learn English if you're going to stay here."
"We invented the bloody language, so you can just sod off," Spike returned quickly. "And I mean that literally."
"And if I knew what that meant, I could come up with an appropriate place for you to put your sod."
"Means 'go away.' And if you want clothes, go to the bathroom, and you'll find some new ones. I am not going to dangle you like bait wearin' kit that makes you look homeless."
"Um, yeah. Spike, can we talk about this whole bait thing?" When Spike sighed, he hurried before the vampire could interrupt him. "I totally get that I'm kind of choiceless here, but you are driving me to seek serious, expensive professional help of the mental health variety, and I don't have that kind of money." Pausing for a moment, he whispered the last part, "Just tell me where I fit here so I can figure out how to deal,” he pleaded. He just couldn't reconcile the same man giving him so much pleasure and then sending him to his death.
"Go get in the bath, and we'll talk," Spike promised as he stood and put the book on a dry part of the bed. He waited for Spike to leave or turn his back or do anything other than leer. "Go on," Spike finally demanded, and Xander realized that he was not going to escape without giving Spike a show. With a sigh of his own, he dropped the sheet, glared at the smirking vampire and went to the bathroom.
While he made a detour to the toilet, Xander heard the water start pouring into the bathtub, so he wasn't surprised to see Spike sitting on a stool next to the tub. The surprise came from the range of bath products on the floor next to the bath.
"Bathe much?" Xander asked as he gestured toward the half-used bottles of shampoo and body wash and, god help him, bubble bath.
"Wot? Not allowed to bathe now?" Spike's accent deepened, and Xander saw the beginnings of a smile.
"Better than stinking, I suppose," he agreed as he walked up and had to practically climb into the tub.
"Not a minion, pet. Don't live for feedin' and shaggin'." Xander just nodded and settled back in the tub all the while thanking god that Spike had added bubble bath because it afforded him some privacy as the water slowly rose in the huge tub. He used to hide in a corner when he had to change in front of other people during gym class; hell, he even skipped showers whenever the teacher left too early to notice. Now he found himself walking around naked. Why did his life always have to be so damn strange? He just knew that if he had just stayed back in Sunnydale his life would have been more normal. His sex life definitely would have been more normal because having sex with a demon—that just about topped the list of strange kinks.
"Now, what's your problem. One minute you're enjoyin' yourself and squirmin' like a virgin, next you're going all wonky on me."
"ME?!" Xander sat up at that. "One minute you're treating me like…well, like a human being, and that's actually better than how a lot of people treat me. Then the next minute you're treating me like a piece of furniture. I'm not the one with some sort of multiple personality thing going on."
"I'm a vampire, pet."
"Well, yeah. Kinda got that with you going all bumpy on me," He made a waving gesture toward Spike's face, and Spike smiled.
"Love that about you, absolutely fearless. Stupidly fearless, but bloody absolutely fearless."
"And playing the trembling, sobbing victim would have gotten me farther?"
"Playing victim would have gotten you eaten, luv." Spike handed him a washcloth and bottle of soap.
"My point exactly," he announced as he started washing. "However, that still leaves you doing the whole bipolar vamp thing. I can't figure out if you're seducing me or throwing me to the wolves here."
"Not throwin' ya to any wolves," Spike offered. "Bloody hell, it's not the same for vamps. You're trying to figure me out using human terms."
"Until last night, all the people I knew were human. But I'm willing to listen if you want to explain another way of thinking." At that Spike stood up and turned his back, and Xander used the temporary privacy to wash a few of his more shy body parts. That done, he reached for a new bottle.
"It's like trying to explain why you have a soul, you just do " Spike finally answered as he turned back around and plucked the shampoo from Xander's hand and squeezed some out into his own hand. He pulled the stool around to the end of the tub and sat down to wash Xander's hair.
"When I saw you in the club, I could smell vamp on you, and I wanted you. I've been alone and living for revenge for a long time. Figured you were some master's pet, and I was goin' to take ya and turn ya—make ya mine. Then I smelled Cassidy and changed the plan." Xander leaned back into the sensual feeling of having someone wash his hair for him. He could hear Spike's accent thicken with each additional sentence, a trait he realized revealed Spike's emotional state. "Now I still want ya, but I need to draw Cassidy out, so I gotta keep my distance, and that's killin' me. I want to shag ya' so hard that ya' feel me for days. I want to feel my fangs sink into your neck." Whoa now. Oh shit, he just had to know, didn't he? Xander struggled to sit forward even as iron hands held him still.
"Not going to bite you, pet. Relax." Spike ordered as he finally withdrew his hands and splashed them around in the tub before drying them on a towel he retrieved from the floor. "Besides, bitin' and killin' aren't the same thing when you have a master involved. Plenty of masters prefer to slip in and take a little from several humans, leaving them alive. Makes for less mess to clean up. But I can't do anything fun without havin' my smell mask Cassidy's."
"Can't do it, so I'm not goin' to think about it," Spike reiterated. "But it's a vampire thing, luv. You're looking for me to be human and treat you like a lover or a hostage taker or a psychopath. I'm not any of those things." Xander nodded slowly even though he could argue that Spike had shown definite signs of being all three. For a long time, they sat in silence and Xander finished the shampoo job Spike had begun before the reference to biting had had caused the panic. Just how much could Spike smell? Was he just getting the general odor of fear or could he smell more? Could he tell why a person was afraid? He stirred the water and watched the dying bubbles trail along in the wake of his hand. He wanted to say so much, to ask so much, but he didn't really know what to ask. His silence must have convinced Spike that he still didn't understand because the vampire sighed deeply and tried again.
"I'm a *vampire*," Spike stated, and Xander suppressed an urge to smack the blonde repeated while yelling 'no duh.' He resisted. However, he did roll his eyes. "You're a human, and that means that we'll never be equal—we'll never be lovers. I'll always think of you as a pet, which in vampire terms means that you're cared for and protected but also property, property whose job it is to please and obey your master." Spike explained, and Xander felt his stomach knot up at the realization that he would always rank somewhere around 'family dog.' Fuck. He had to fall for someone who saw him as a freaking lower life form. He had thought that when he stopped chasing girls that he would find someone who didn't treat him like a doormat, but it seems that he had only graduated from doormat to dog. He really needed to learn to fall for a better class of psychopath.
"Doesn't mean I don't care." Spike hurried to say, and Xander wondered how much of his disappointment had showed on his face. "Be a lot bleedin' simpler if I was your master." Spike said in a nearly wistful tone of voice.
"And the bait thing? Are you gonna give me to Cassidy?"
"No." Spike denied, and Xander found himself anxiously trying to believe that. Why he didn't know since the answer still left him a vampire's prisoner. Well, actually he did know why he preferred to be chained in Spike's lair rather than Cassidy's, but he had already promised himself to ignore and sublimate that thought. "Goin' to tempt him out is all." Spike explained.
"If he didn't mean to make me, why would he care? I'm not worth walking into a trap for."
"Bollocks! He'll come out because he'll remember the taste of a hellmouth boy, he'll come out because you're going to look delicious in the kit I picked up for you, and he'll come out because I'll humiliate him by showing everyone that I have one of his pets."
"Okay, could you have chosen a more disturbing word than 'delicious'?" Xander asked with a shiver.
"You have no idea," Spike retorted with a quick quirk of his eyebrow.
"And again with the disturbing moment. Every compliment I get from you is giving my future therapist more material. But where exactly are we going to do this 'showing off' and what exactly do I have to do." After he finished, he took a moment to duck his head under the water and shake his head so most of the shampoo rinsed out. When he surfaced again, Spike had a bottle of conditioner in his hand.
"You've got to be kidding. Vampires condition?"
"You have no bloody idea how much damage bleaching does," Spike defended himself as he tossed the bottle to Xander rather than repeat the hair washing. Xander found himself vaguely disappointed.
"So, where and what?"
"Where—a couple of demon bars and a couple of human bars where demons tend to go looking for a quick snack or a quick shag. What—that depends. At the human bars, you'll stay by my side and keep quiet unless I tell you otherwise. Just remember that I'm in charge and you'll be fine. Demon bars are a little different. Humans don't normally go into demon bars unless they are pets, so the demons are going to expect you to act like a pet."
"I'm not going to like this, am I?"
"Kneel at my feet, keep your trap shut, do what I tell ya." Spike ticked off the rules on his fingers.
"Oh yeah, so not with the liking," Xander confirmed as he pulled the plug on the tub. "I honestly have to kneel at your feet?"
"Yeah. And if you get hungry, I'll feed you."
"Feed me what?" Xander asked suspiciously
"Human food, you git. Pets are supposed to rely on their owners, so they don't touch food with their hands. They either eat food that's been thrown on the floor to remind them of their place or they eat from their master's fingers if their master's pleased with them."
"Okay, ew. We damn well better stop somewhere for food before we go to any demon bars. I am so not eating out of your hand." By now the water had disappeared. Xander turned on the water and stuck his head directly under the tap to rinse out the last of the shampoo and conditioner. When he reappeared out from under the water, Spike handed him a towel.
"Get changed, and we'll stop somewhere for food before we hit Pavidosi," Spike said as he left the bathroom. Xander looked around. He gave a small smile when he saw the clothes, where else, on the floor. Spike really needed to invest in a few tables, he thought to himself as he got out an padded over to the clothing.
When Xander appeared in the main room, he didn't see Spike right away. When the heavy metal door crashed above him, he jumped and looked up in time to see Spike jump from half way up the stairs to the floor.
"Ready?" Spike asked as he wondered whether he could find a way to slip Ritalin into Spike's blood. "You do clean up nice, pet," Spike drawled as he lowered his head and looked. Xander self consciously pulled at the front of the front of his black shirt. The fabric was smooth as silk, but almost fuzzy. It was as thin like a t-shirt, but it clung to him like a sweater, and the v-neck was low enough to show the edge of his scar, which looked far more fresh now that Spike had spent the afternoon sucking and biting at it. The gray jeans fit slightly looser than Mike's had two evenings earlier, but not significantly so. They still constricted and rubbed with every move—not Xander's ideal choice in clothing. The lack of underwear especially annoyed him, but considering the embarrassing things Spike could have forced him to wear, he didn't feel like complaining.
"Not exactly my taste."
"Considering what I've seen you wear, you aren't getting' a choice, pet," Spike pointed out as he picked up a small leather bag. "Hold on to this, and don't you lose it," Spike pushed the bag into Xander's hands, and the weight surprised him.
"What do you have in here?" Xander complained as he followed Spike who had now started up the narrow, steep stairs. Spike didn't answer, he simply waited for Xander in the truck yard. When Xander finally made it to the top, he realized that he had never expected to see the outside again. The florescent lot lights on the dirty trucks and the stench of the city seemed suddenly beautiful, and Xander took a deep breath. But the return to the real world also reminded him of real world issues. Fredrick. Xander sighed as he waited patiently for Spike to lock the door behind them before slipping the key into one of his many pockets.
"This is what I have," Spike replied as he unzipped the leather bag and Xander could see the chains inside. He stared at them blankly.
"Why am I carrying these?"
"If you even think of doing a runner, I'll chain you up in some back room and leave ya there 'til Cassidy hears 'bout you. Got it?" Spike asked as he reached over and took Xander's chin in his hand and forced him to make eye contact.
"Got it," Xander answered wearily.
"Well, that got less argument than I expected. Not that I'm complainin' mind you." Spike let go of Xander and started walked toward the gate. Xander took a couple of seconds to zip up the bag before he followed.
"So what's eating you?" Spike asked as they walked. Spike preceded Xander through the gate, and then used his strength to pull the gate back the extra quarter inch Xander needed to slip through without scratching himself or ripping his clothes.
"Just life, Spike. I did have one, you know." Xander resented the vampire's intrusions into his thoughts; it seemed so wrong to even think about Spike and Fredrick at the same time.
"Yeah, I know. Vampire hunter, professional crawler, soon to be stripper."
"You," Xander lost the words to even reply for a moment he felt so much aggravation, but then he felt his emotions just collapsed under the weight of so much pain and confusion. "Whatever." He finally said as he walked beside Spike down the sidewalk. He wondered if he shouldn't be walking behind or something, but he decided that he wouldn't give Spike one concession that Spike didn't have to specifically demand.
"No, go on. I'm interested in what could make such a well-rounded person so unhappy," Spike returned. Xander looked over in shock. Spike had threatened him and hit him, made him come and played with his body, talked to him and teased him, but he had never before used this hard-edged sarcasm.
"Spike?" Xander asked quietly.
"No, go on. Tell what makes the big bad vampire hunter so damn unhappy. Someone dull the points on your stakes?" Spike continued in a cold voice.
Okay, Xander thought to himself, Spike told you to not use human standards, so find another standard. Spike thought of Xander as property, and whether he admitted it or not, Xander suspected that Spike though of him as Spike's property—not Cassidy's. Spike's property is unhappy, so maybe Spike doesn't like the thought of his pet being distracted from the job. Maybe Spike just didn't like the smell of unhappiness, Xander realized as he remembered Spike complaining about him smelling fearful.
"It's nothing. I'll get the job done and help you take out Cassidy. After all, like you said, big bad vampire hunter here," Xander tried for a lighter tone, hoping that either the assurance that he would focus or the tone would assuage Spike. "Able to trip in a single bound; faster than a limping turtle." Spike simply snorted. From the frozen expression on his face, Xander's comments had made the problem worse. Damn, Xander thought to himself, I've had girlfriends who required less effort.
Okay, Spike's property is unhappy. Spike isn't worried about getting the job done, so what is he worried about? Xander thought back to a collie named Sergeant he had owned when he was seven or eight. Think pet, he ordered himself even though the concept made his empty stomach threaten to revolt. They had kept Sergeant for two years before Xander's father had given him way to punish Xander for not cleaning up the back yard. He still thought his father should have just looked down and walked around the dog shit. Okay, if Sergeant had been unhappy and I found away to talk to him…Xander's thoughts suddenly skipped onto a new track. He remembered mashing his thumbs trying to build a doghouse the summer he grew obsessed with the fear that Sergeant would get sunburned in the back yard, and he almost heard his own thoughts click.
"I got someone killed last night," Xander admitted. If he was right, Spike would respond to that.
"What? Don't seem the killin' sort to me, luv." Spike turned a concerned face to Xander, and Xander had to stop himself from cheering. Of course the thought of Fredrick stopped that thought rather quickly.
"I was back-up; I was supposed to call for help if someone got separated. One of the guys got pulled off, and by the time I noticed, it was too late," Xander confessed his guilt. He couldn't have said as much to Luther or Trey, but Spike had killed hundreds if not thousands of people, so he didn't have any room to condemn Xander for one.
"That's not you getting' someone killed. That a bunch of wankers all trying to get themselves killed by goin' up against something they don't understand." Spike assured him.
"Hey, we were armed. We had stakes and holy water and enough crosses to start a Catholic church."
"Yeah, and they had superhuman senses, speed, and strength."
"You're forgetting my secret weapon," Xander pointed out with a shrug. "I have an superhuman ability to distract vampires through running away screaming and profusely bleeding," he joked. Spike didn't laugh; he simply stopped and looked with a strange expression.
"Pet, if you survived this long, you're either the luckiest bloke this side of the globe or you have knackers you keep hidden. How many of you went in?"
"Six."
"And the other four, you played back up for them too?"
"Yeah."
"And you do this how often, playing back-up as you gits take on supernatural creatures with superhuman strength?"
"Four or five times a week," Xander said as he mentally averaged the good weeks against those weeks when work had him too tired to help at all. "Ever since I got bit and started following Gunn around, trying to force him into letting me help."
"And that bite was four years ago?"
"Pretty much."
"So last night you saved four bleedin' idiots and over the last three years you've saved…" Spike paused for a moment, "Three or four thousand wankers, depending on how many people go on each raid. I'd say it balances it out with you comin' out slightly to the side of the angels." Spike shook his head after a minute. "That's a hell of a lot of vampires, pet. Where do you hunt?"
"In the neighborhood south of Safari. Gunn said that the vamps have only been bad like this for four or five years. Before that, the older people in the neighborhood talked about the Obayifo or La Llorona—spirits who killed in the night—but no one believed them. Lots still don't believe, but the more active the vamps get, the more believers we have in the neighborhood." Most of Xander's information came second-hand from Gunn since the vamps had been active longer than he had lived in L.A.
"That’s not right," Spike said after a minute. He turned a corner, and Xander followed him in the new direction. "How many vamps you dust in a night?"
"When I first started, we'd find two or three in a lair. Sometimes we'd go a day or two between kills, but lately we've found a couple big nests and found individual vamps hunting nearly ever night," Xander admitted. The change in hunting had happened slowly, but when Xander thought back, he could see a clear difference between the early years of hunting and the last few months.
"A master might get dusted, but most of his minions will go to the winner," Spike said absent-mindedly. "A master could turn one or two minions out for displeasin' him, but not a whole legion of 'em. Too many vamps around attracts vampire hunters, slayers, and official attention, not to mention making huntin' even harder." Xander followed Spike in silence. He clearly didn't know enough about vampire habits to have an opinion on the matter, but if Spike was right, something was really wrong in the neighborhood. Now Xander worried about Gunn and the others. He had to find a way to warn them.
"Stop feelin' guilty," Spike ordered with a sigh.
"I'm not," Xander protested. "Okay, I'm not much," Xander amended that when Spike looked at him with both eyebrows fully raised. "You're right about me helping more than not even though I still feel guilty about Fredrick." Spike put out an arm and herded Xander into a restaurant. While Xander had been expecting fast food, the trendy steakhouse made his stomach rumble so loud that Spike laughed out loud. Spike held the door, and Xander preceded him into the lobby. Once the hostess had seated them and flirted with both of them enough to embarrass Xander, the two were left with glasses of water and a promise the waitress would appear soon.
"So, what's botherin' you now?" Spike asked over the table. Xander bit his lip, wondering how much leeway he could expect from Spike. If he didn't say anything he would have a better chance of sneaking off to find a payphone and just paying the price for it later. If he said something, Spike could help him or prevent him from ever being able to contact Gunn. Xander glanced toward the black bag which now sat on a spare chair.
"Pet?" Spike asked with just a touch of growl in his voice. Xander made up his mind.
"I'm not liking this whole bait thing," Xander said in a low voice so that neighboring tables couldn't hear him. "If it works, I'm caught between two vampires, and if it doesn't, you don't have a lot of reason to keep me alive." Xander half-expected Spike to catch him in the lie, to have some sort of supernatural lie detector. Instead Spike just suddenly looked tired.
"Been huntin' Cassidy for bloody months. I'm not patient, and I'm about ready to just burn the whole city. This is the first time I've even felt close." Spike looked directly into Xander's eyes. "I need this to work. But if it don't, well, I don't believe in eatin' someone I know, that was Angelus' game. I prefer to keep playin' and eatin' separate, so I won't drain you, even if Cassidy never shows. But if he doesn't show…" Spike let his words trail off, and Xander could hear the pain. He felt the guilt of Fredrick's death in his gut like a knife. What must Spike feel for failing Dru? She was his lover and his sire and Cassidy killed her. Xander understood the anguish that motivated Spike.
"And if he does show?" Xander asked.
"If he shows, he'll be dust before he gets within 100 feet of you," Spike promised, and Xander could feel the hatred for Cassidy in that promise. Suddenly a young red-head with a huge smile and even bigger braces appeared looking for orders. They spent the rest of dinner talking about absolutely meaningless topics that had nothing to do with homicidal vampires, vendettas, or kidnapped humans.