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Not sure where this came from but it just did... needs more but this was a good place to stop.
Part Nine
Opening the door to see Xander on the other side wasn’t what I’d call a nice surprise, but at least he hadn’t barged right in. Giles is too soft on them. ‘Course, it’s his own fault for not locking the door and I tell him that too. I stared at him and he opened his eyes wide and asked if he was allowed in, making it clear he was being sarcastic. Needs to practice that more. I stepped back, looking him over in case he had a stake tucked under his shirt. Which meant I had to look at the shirt. Giles’ place is full of muted, soft colours; lad stood out like a parrot in a flock of starlings. Pitiful, really it is.
“What do you want, Harris?”
“You’re such a gracious host, Spike.”
“Not my house. Means you’re not my guest. Giles isn’t here.”
“You and Anya both do that blunt, no words wasted thing, do you know that? Old as the hills, centuries left to live in, and you talk as if words were in short supply.”
Comparing me to his vengeance demon? Was he trying to piss me off?
“And I know Giles isn’t here. I just left the shop; he says he’ll be another hour maybe. Has to finish the monthly accounts or something.”
“Huh. He could’ve picked up the phone; no need to send you.”
“No. I mean, yes, he could.”
He went quiet then, looking at me as if he wasn’t sure what to say. Didn’t feel inclined to help him but I didn’t really want him hanging around either. “You’ve not come for anything deep and meaningful, have you? Because as far as I’m concerned, we can go another decade without one of those conversations.”
He grinned. “Finally we agree on something. No, it’s not – oh, hell, yes it is.”
He sat down on the couch and I bit my lip. Giles has fucked me in just about every room in this place, but that couch – well, it’s getting to the point where just sitting on it gets me hard. I’ve been bent over it so often, holding still, being quiet, focusing on something, anything – the marks my nails are making as I drive them into the back or the arm, my body one thrust away from coming, my mouth dry because if I close it there’s no way I can stop myself moaning too loud for it to be allowed – or feeling its smoothness against my back as his cock goes in deep and hard and I’m wrapped around him, staring up into his face, giving him all he wants in the way of begging – or gripping the wooden rail along the back as that fucking crop slashes down against me and the burn travels from my arse to my face and I want to beg him to stop, or to go faster, get it over with - but I’ve been told, not a sound, not yet, and he’s never spared me a single stroke or a single second of whatever he’s decided I deserve so there’s really no point anyway.
And now Harris was sprawled on it and I didn’t know whether the joke was on him or me.
“Spit it out.”
He looked down at his hands, fingers tangled in his lap, and then back at me. I sighed and sat down in a chair, stopped trying to loom over him. I had a tea towel tucked in my pocket so I probably didn’t look all that threatening anyway. If Giles gets back and there’s more than one mug in the sink, well, it’s not something that makes him smile. And I like him smiling when he comes in and sees me.
I go with him to the shop most days but it’s almost worth spending the day apart just for that first few minutes when he gets back. He takes off his coat, hangs it up, and then stands there looking at me, does all those things I don’t think he knows he’s doing; takes off his specs, smoothes back his hair – and then he smiles and I’m grinning back like an idiot and going to him and he pulls me in and kisses me and I’ve got someone to touch and someone to be with and I start doing more than existing.
Not always like that though; sometimes Anya or the customers have got him so wound up he’s tight and tense and his lips are a hard, thin line. The coat gets chucked across the banister, the glasses get tossed on the table and I’m on my knees before he’s finished snapping out my name, waiting for his hands to move; one to his zip, one to my head.
Thinking of that made me determined to get Xander gone before Giles came back. Chasing stray dollars and cents? He was going to be irritable.
“Harris – Xander, I’m not going to bite you – oh, you know what I mean. Owe you for the other night and Giles seems to think you’ve got more to you than you’d think, so –”
“How did it start? You and him?”
Frowned and sat back. Felt like telling him to mind his own bloody business but his face was all screwed up as if he really wanted to know and it’d cost him asking. Besides, Giles had told them most of it...
“You know already. Found him near my place, about to be supper for some vamps. I got hurt fighting them; we went back to my crypt and ...”
I stopped there. Not about to share more than that.
“And? You don’t want to tell me, do you?”
“Don’t and won’t. Between me and Giles.”
“He said he was going to kill himself, Spike. Do you know how we all feel that we didn’t see that coming?”
“Like the self-centred gits you all are?”
Got a smile but not a particularly happy one. “Something like that. Look, I’m not trying to get details of you and – God, even thinking about you two makes me – ” Horny? Jealous? “Sick.” Oh, fair enough. Think you’re lying, but whatever. Just don’t throw up on the couch. If Giles has spent the day doing accounts, odds are we won’t make it upstairs for a while. He breathed out, slow and steady. “Not the gay thing; I’m fine with Will and Tara, it’s just...Giles. He’s so, well, you know and you’re ...Oh, forget it!” Willingly, but -
He stood up and headed towards the door. “Sit down.” Giles uses that voice on me and it works like a charm. Looks like I’d got the hang of it myself, because he stopped dead and turned back.
I waved at the couch. “You’ve got something on your mind, I’d rather know about it. Yes, Giles and me, we’re fucking. Get your head around it and move on. Is that all, or was there something else? I’m thinking there must be; you can’t have imagined we’re still at the holding hands stage.”
He perched on the arm of the couch and looked as if he’d rather be anywhere else but here. Got me curious now. He was hating this, so why do it?
“How long have you been in love with him?” Lad just blurted it out and it took me by surprise.
“Love? Who said anything about that?” Panic and denial. Perfect partners when you're caught.
He relaxed, as if that was what he’d wanted to hear, and slid off the couch. “So you’re using him, then. Place to stay, free blood and ... you know. Sex. Thought so.”
“What? No! Look; this thing between us, it’s ... complicated, right? We’re both ... I’m helping him ...”
He looked at me. “Helping him do what? Lose any chance at a normal life? Put a barrier between him and his friends? I’m not trying to be cruel here, Spike, I’m really not. I saw how he looked when we brought you back, I’m giving you credit for thinking that for once, yeah, maybe you’re not being a complete bastard...but I can’t see that you’re helping Giles. Not really.”
If he’d been sneering or shouting I could’ve handled it but his voice was quiet, almost sad and he looked at me with something like pity.
I gave it him back in spades. “Xander, your head is so far up your fucking arse, it’s no wonder you can’t see what’s in front of your nose. You’ve all got yourselves someone and you think he can get by without? Oh, and good luck on him finding a human to fuck, because that ended so well with the last two, didn’t it? You don’t know him. You don’t know what he needs and if you did you wouldn’t want to give it to him and you couldn’t take what –”
“Spike. That will do.”
Giles. In the doorway, looking tired and annoyed. I shut up and found I was wrapping that fucking tea towel around my hands, trying to hide the way they were shaking.
“Xander? Would you care to explain why I’ve walked in on a scene unpleasantly reminiscent of one of the soaps my partner seems to be addicted to?”
‘Partner’ What the fuck? Xander looked as sideswiped by that as me and his mouth was hanging open. Can’t have done that in front of a mirror, ever, or he’d know it made him look like a fish. A stupid fish.
“I came ... came to talk to Spike, to....”
“You came to interfere. Please don’t do it again. If you have anything you wish to say – though I can’t imagine why you should – I’d prefer it if you came to me. Well?”
He waited and Xander floundered for a second and then his head came up and his shoulders went back. “Giles, you shouldn’t be with him. I’m not trying to tell you what to do, I’m not passing judgment –”
“Yes. You’re doing just that, Xander. Your motives aren’t bad ones and believe me, I’m touched by your evident concern ... but I know what I’m doing. I’m asking you to trust me. I’m telling you to back off.”
“He’s a vampire, Giles. You and Buffy... at least Angel had a soul ...it’s not right.” He sounded desperate and if it was in me to sympathise with him, I would have.
Giles sighed and took off his glasses. “Xander, I know this. I know all of it. It just doesn’t matter at the moment. If a rope’s thrown to a drowning man, does he get picky about what colour it is?”
“He might do, once he’s on dry land. You’re not going to kill yourself now, are you Giles? That’s not an issue?”
“No.”
“Then why is he still here? And what could he do to stop you feeling that way? I don’t get it. Sex? Was that all? A quick fuck and Buffy stops mattering?”
He’s lucky he got to the end of that sentence. I was throwing myself forward, snarling, fangs out – and the chip slammed down a wall of pain and I hit it head first. Could see Giles and he looked ... never want him to look at me like that. Never. His head turned and he looked down at me; yes, I was on the floor. Hadn’t even touched him, but the chip didn’t care. Smug pile of junk. I moved enough for him to decide I’d live and watched him take Xander apart, inch by quivering inch.
My head hurt. I don’t think Giles touched him but Xander was backed against a wall, eyes dark and scared and Giles was all but yelling into his face, a stream of words just pouring out of him. Stopped being entertaining when I saw they were both crying and didn’t know it.
Not about me, after all. I walked out into the courtyard, closing the door behind me.
I missed her too.
Part Nine
Opening the door to see Xander on the other side wasn’t what I’d call a nice surprise, but at least he hadn’t barged right in. Giles is too soft on them. ‘Course, it’s his own fault for not locking the door and I tell him that too. I stared at him and he opened his eyes wide and asked if he was allowed in, making it clear he was being sarcastic. Needs to practice that more. I stepped back, looking him over in case he had a stake tucked under his shirt. Which meant I had to look at the shirt. Giles’ place is full of muted, soft colours; lad stood out like a parrot in a flock of starlings. Pitiful, really it is.
“What do you want, Harris?”
“You’re such a gracious host, Spike.”
“Not my house. Means you’re not my guest. Giles isn’t here.”
“You and Anya both do that blunt, no words wasted thing, do you know that? Old as the hills, centuries left to live in, and you talk as if words were in short supply.”
Comparing me to his vengeance demon? Was he trying to piss me off?
“And I know Giles isn’t here. I just left the shop; he says he’ll be another hour maybe. Has to finish the monthly accounts or something.”
“Huh. He could’ve picked up the phone; no need to send you.”
“No. I mean, yes, he could.”
He went quiet then, looking at me as if he wasn’t sure what to say. Didn’t feel inclined to help him but I didn’t really want him hanging around either. “You’ve not come for anything deep and meaningful, have you? Because as far as I’m concerned, we can go another decade without one of those conversations.”
He grinned. “Finally we agree on something. No, it’s not – oh, hell, yes it is.”
He sat down on the couch and I bit my lip. Giles has fucked me in just about every room in this place, but that couch – well, it’s getting to the point where just sitting on it gets me hard. I’ve been bent over it so often, holding still, being quiet, focusing on something, anything – the marks my nails are making as I drive them into the back or the arm, my body one thrust away from coming, my mouth dry because if I close it there’s no way I can stop myself moaning too loud for it to be allowed – or feeling its smoothness against my back as his cock goes in deep and hard and I’m wrapped around him, staring up into his face, giving him all he wants in the way of begging – or gripping the wooden rail along the back as that fucking crop slashes down against me and the burn travels from my arse to my face and I want to beg him to stop, or to go faster, get it over with - but I’ve been told, not a sound, not yet, and he’s never spared me a single stroke or a single second of whatever he’s decided I deserve so there’s really no point anyway.
And now Harris was sprawled on it and I didn’t know whether the joke was on him or me.
“Spit it out.”
He looked down at his hands, fingers tangled in his lap, and then back at me. I sighed and sat down in a chair, stopped trying to loom over him. I had a tea towel tucked in my pocket so I probably didn’t look all that threatening anyway. If Giles gets back and there’s more than one mug in the sink, well, it’s not something that makes him smile. And I like him smiling when he comes in and sees me.
I go with him to the shop most days but it’s almost worth spending the day apart just for that first few minutes when he gets back. He takes off his coat, hangs it up, and then stands there looking at me, does all those things I don’t think he knows he’s doing; takes off his specs, smoothes back his hair – and then he smiles and I’m grinning back like an idiot and going to him and he pulls me in and kisses me and I’ve got someone to touch and someone to be with and I start doing more than existing.
Not always like that though; sometimes Anya or the customers have got him so wound up he’s tight and tense and his lips are a hard, thin line. The coat gets chucked across the banister, the glasses get tossed on the table and I’m on my knees before he’s finished snapping out my name, waiting for his hands to move; one to his zip, one to my head.
Thinking of that made me determined to get Xander gone before Giles came back. Chasing stray dollars and cents? He was going to be irritable.
“Harris – Xander, I’m not going to bite you – oh, you know what I mean. Owe you for the other night and Giles seems to think you’ve got more to you than you’d think, so –”
“How did it start? You and him?”
Frowned and sat back. Felt like telling him to mind his own bloody business but his face was all screwed up as if he really wanted to know and it’d cost him asking. Besides, Giles had told them most of it...
“You know already. Found him near my place, about to be supper for some vamps. I got hurt fighting them; we went back to my crypt and ...”
I stopped there. Not about to share more than that.
“And? You don’t want to tell me, do you?”
“Don’t and won’t. Between me and Giles.”
“He said he was going to kill himself, Spike. Do you know how we all feel that we didn’t see that coming?”
“Like the self-centred gits you all are?”
Got a smile but not a particularly happy one. “Something like that. Look, I’m not trying to get details of you and – God, even thinking about you two makes me – ” Horny? Jealous? “Sick.” Oh, fair enough. Think you’re lying, but whatever. Just don’t throw up on the couch. If Giles has spent the day doing accounts, odds are we won’t make it upstairs for a while. He breathed out, slow and steady. “Not the gay thing; I’m fine with Will and Tara, it’s just...Giles. He’s so, well, you know and you’re ...Oh, forget it!” Willingly, but -
He stood up and headed towards the door. “Sit down.” Giles uses that voice on me and it works like a charm. Looks like I’d got the hang of it myself, because he stopped dead and turned back.
I waved at the couch. “You’ve got something on your mind, I’d rather know about it. Yes, Giles and me, we’re fucking. Get your head around it and move on. Is that all, or was there something else? I’m thinking there must be; you can’t have imagined we’re still at the holding hands stage.”
He perched on the arm of the couch and looked as if he’d rather be anywhere else but here. Got me curious now. He was hating this, so why do it?
“How long have you been in love with him?” Lad just blurted it out and it took me by surprise.
“Love? Who said anything about that?” Panic and denial. Perfect partners when you're caught.
He relaxed, as if that was what he’d wanted to hear, and slid off the couch. “So you’re using him, then. Place to stay, free blood and ... you know. Sex. Thought so.”
“What? No! Look; this thing between us, it’s ... complicated, right? We’re both ... I’m helping him ...”
He looked at me. “Helping him do what? Lose any chance at a normal life? Put a barrier between him and his friends? I’m not trying to be cruel here, Spike, I’m really not. I saw how he looked when we brought you back, I’m giving you credit for thinking that for once, yeah, maybe you’re not being a complete bastard...but I can’t see that you’re helping Giles. Not really.”
If he’d been sneering or shouting I could’ve handled it but his voice was quiet, almost sad and he looked at me with something like pity.
I gave it him back in spades. “Xander, your head is so far up your fucking arse, it’s no wonder you can’t see what’s in front of your nose. You’ve all got yourselves someone and you think he can get by without? Oh, and good luck on him finding a human to fuck, because that ended so well with the last two, didn’t it? You don’t know him. You don’t know what he needs and if you did you wouldn’t want to give it to him and you couldn’t take what –”
“Spike. That will do.”
Giles. In the doorway, looking tired and annoyed. I shut up and found I was wrapping that fucking tea towel around my hands, trying to hide the way they were shaking.
“Xander? Would you care to explain why I’ve walked in on a scene unpleasantly reminiscent of one of the soaps my partner seems to be addicted to?”
‘Partner’ What the fuck? Xander looked as sideswiped by that as me and his mouth was hanging open. Can’t have done that in front of a mirror, ever, or he’d know it made him look like a fish. A stupid fish.
“I came ... came to talk to Spike, to....”
“You came to interfere. Please don’t do it again. If you have anything you wish to say – though I can’t imagine why you should – I’d prefer it if you came to me. Well?”
He waited and Xander floundered for a second and then his head came up and his shoulders went back. “Giles, you shouldn’t be with him. I’m not trying to tell you what to do, I’m not passing judgment –”
“Yes. You’re doing just that, Xander. Your motives aren’t bad ones and believe me, I’m touched by your evident concern ... but I know what I’m doing. I’m asking you to trust me. I’m telling you to back off.”
“He’s a vampire, Giles. You and Buffy... at least Angel had a soul ...it’s not right.” He sounded desperate and if it was in me to sympathise with him, I would have.
Giles sighed and took off his glasses. “Xander, I know this. I know all of it. It just doesn’t matter at the moment. If a rope’s thrown to a drowning man, does he get picky about what colour it is?”
“He might do, once he’s on dry land. You’re not going to kill yourself now, are you Giles? That’s not an issue?”
“No.”
“Then why is he still here? And what could he do to stop you feeling that way? I don’t get it. Sex? Was that all? A quick fuck and Buffy stops mattering?”
He’s lucky he got to the end of that sentence. I was throwing myself forward, snarling, fangs out – and the chip slammed down a wall of pain and I hit it head first. Could see Giles and he looked ... never want him to look at me like that. Never. His head turned and he looked down at me; yes, I was on the floor. Hadn’t even touched him, but the chip didn’t care. Smug pile of junk. I moved enough for him to decide I’d live and watched him take Xander apart, inch by quivering inch.
My head hurt. I don’t think Giles touched him but Xander was backed against a wall, eyes dark and scared and Giles was all but yelling into his face, a stream of words just pouring out of him. Stopped being entertaining when I saw they were both crying and didn’t know it.
Not about me, after all. I walked out into the courtyard, closing the door behind me.
I missed her too.