A New Face
Part 1 Part 2 Part
3 Part 4 Part 5
Part 6 Part 7 Part
8 Part 9 Part 10
Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14a
Interlude
Part 14b Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18
Chapter One
Xander flopped down onto one of the many couches that were now spread around the once empty lobby of the Hyperion. He nodded gratefully to Gunn for the bottle of water before guzzling it down. Gunn shook his head with a smile as he sprawled on another couch.
"Man, you're getting better everyday. Almost can't tell you only got one eye. Hell, you nearly whupped my ass that last time."
"Nearly? What do you mean nearly, you bald-headed slave driver? I ran your skinny black ass into the ground," Xander sniped back playfully.
"Xander!" Willow admonished smacking the back of his head as she walked past. "Watch your mouth."
"Yeah, Xander, it's skinny African-American ass," Cordy added with a grin from her seat at the receptionists desk.
"I beg your pardon. Charles does not have a skinny derriere," Wesley corrected as he moved to stand besides the couch his own bottle of water in hand.
Gunn tugged on Wesley's hand until he was sitting in Gunn's lap. "You tell her, English," Gunn grinned nuzzling Wesley's neck. "Mmm, love it when you're all sweaty."
"TMI, guys. TMI," Buffy groaned as she joined them on the couches.
"You're just jealous cause you're not getting any with Intern-boy," Gunn teased.
"We both decided it was better to take things slow rather than rushing into anything," Buffy huffed.
"Uh-huh."
"Buff, if you two were taking it any slower glaciers would form around you." Xander teased.
"Shut up, Xander. It's not like we see you dating."
Everyone in the lobby stiffened at Buffy's callous words. It would be a year tomorrow since the final battle against the First, since the day they'd lost Anya and Spike and several of the Potentials. Buffy had seemed to mourn for Spike for a short while but between being around Angel all the time and then a few months ago during one of the inevitable trips to the ER she'd met a handsome intern who knew about the supernatural. Now she seemed to have forgotten him most of the time. Xander was still mourning Anya. If her name was mentioned he would go quiet and soon leave the room. Everyone knew better than to push the subject with him. Realizing what she'd said, Buffy tried to take it back.
"Xander, I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."
"Yes, you did." He rose to his feet and turned away. "Unlike some I don't so easily forget the ones I loved who died."
Angel met Xander at the foot of the stairs, reaching out with one hand to stop him. Their relationship had come the farthest in the last year as they'd put the past behind them. "Xander, she didn't..."
"Don't, Deadboy. Just don't. I'm not in the mood for it right now."
Angel nodded, ignoring the rarely used nickname. "Alright. I wanted to talk to you about the renovations."
"Can we do this later? I want to shower and then I'm going out."
"Tomorrow?"
Xander shook his head. "No. I'm not going to be around tomorrow."
"Where..."
"Out," he replied curtly.
"Okay. Day after then?"
"Fine. I'll talk to you then."
Xander nodded and continued up the stairs. Once he was out of earshot Willow spoke up. "Is it really a good idea to let him go off by himself tomorrow?"
"I think it's best that we let Xander grieve in his own way and own time," Wesley replied, gazing pointedly at Buffy.
"Hey! I tried to apologize."
"Yeah, but you shouldn't have said it in the first place," Cordy admonished. "Really, Buffy. Your high and mighty attitude of Poor-me,-see-how-I've-suffered is getting really old. Get over yourself and start paying attention to the other people around you. Everyone here has suffered. We've all known hurt and loss."
"And what would the Queen C know about hurt and loss?"
"What would I know about hurt and loss? What would I know?"
Everyone but Buffy winced as her voice rose. Gunn and Wesley edged away hoping to avoid the explosion that was about to occur.
"Ignoring the fact that I lost a good friend to the Scourge, hello! Demon, here. I gave up my humanity so that my visions wouldn't kill me and I could keep helping Angel. Don't you dare talk to me about hurt and loss."
"Dinner will be ready in about half an hour, guys," Andrew announced coming out of the kitchen. He took a step back when everyone turned to stare at him. "What?"
"Nothing, Andrew," Wesley reassured him, "someone is just being a twit. Xander won't be eating with us it seems."
"He won't? But I made the cheesy garlic bread he likes so much. I thought it might, you know, cheer him up."
"I'm sure he'd appreciate the gesture but he needs to be alone right now," Wesley said softly.
"Oh. Okay." Andrew wandered back into the kitchen, his shoulders slumped.
"C'mon, English, we need to shower," Gunn said pushing his lover to his feet so he could stand. Buffy followed them silently up the stairs, heading for her own apartment to shower as well. Angel shook his head and retreated into his office leaving Cordelia and Willow in the empty lobby.
"Yay. Another fun-filled night at the Hyperion Hotel," Cordy snarked.
"Tomorrow is going to be a hard day. For all of us."
"I know. Doesn't mean I have to like it."
"None of us like it," Willow said softly. For once Cordy kept quiet and they continued working on the new computer system that would keep them linked with Giles and the others in Cleveland.
*****
Spike let out a shuddering gasp of breath as his eyes flew open. Instead of the infinite whiteness he'd become used to he was confronted with an off-white color with an odd almost granular texture. Shifting his gaze to the side without moving his head, he found a set of drawn rust red curtains and wood grain door on one side. On the other was a beige striped wall, the paper starting to curl in the corner and a light wood night table with a hideous lamp only found in motels. Realizing he was getting dizzy, he sucked in another lungful of air. He definitely wasn't where he used to be. Did this mean the voice had kept it's word? Did he really have a new body?
'Course you do, you bloody pillock. Didn't have to breathe before did ya? he snarked to himself mentally. Pushing himself up onto his elbows, Spike stared down the length of his body. A dark green T-shirt covered his chest, tucked into a pair of well-worn faded blue jeans. The jeans had a small rip just below the right knee, the bottoms of both legs were starting to fray. His feet were bare. The skin was pale, but not the porcelain white he'd become long accustomed to. There was a pink tinge that he recognized as the flow of blood beneath living flesh. He was alive.
Lifting a hand, he was momentarily captivated by the slim graceful fingers that he hadn't paid attention to when he'd been shown the body. There were calluses on the fingers and on the palm. Some were in the right position for certain weapons, the others confused him. Rather than dwell on it he continued the motion he'd started and laid the hand on his chest. Beneath the steady rise and fall that indicated he was breathing he felt the gentle lub-dub of a beating heart. Yeah. That clinched it. He was alive.
That settled Spike began to look more closely around the room. On the floor by the windows sat an open guitar case. Lying inside it was a six string acoustic. The belly was a dark cherry color and the sounding board a light pine or oak color with black trim. The neck was also black in color. It looked to be in good condition, well-worn, but still in good condition. Looking at it, he felt like he was looking at an old friend. The calluses made sense now. The bloke whose body he now had must have been a musician. Spike idly wondered if he'd retained the memories of how to play it. Instantly his mind was flooded with fingerings, chords and lyrics. Yep, he knew how to play it and apparently nearly a hundred songs. Much like a vampire the previous owner of the body had had near perfect recall, at least when it came to music.
Ignoring the urge to pick up the guitar and start playing, he continued his perusal of the room. There was a cheap dresser across from the foot of the bed with a large dark green duffel bag. Spike shook his head. It was becoming apparent the former owner had had a thing for green. The duffel was open. Some clothes were visible, jeans and T-shirts, and what looked like the pommel of a sword. Curious, Spike swung his legs off the bed and stood up. He swayed briefly as he got used to the blood coursing through his veins then continued towards the duffel.
As he'd guessed it had been the pommel of a sword he'd seen. A nice piece of work, K'Tharsian designed and forged or he was Angel's uncle. Perfectly balanced. Must have been specifically made for his body. Spike wondered what the bloke had done to warrant one of the fabled K'Tharsian swords, a custom one no less. Also in the duffel was an assortment of stakes, knives, a crossbow and bolts, and few other more exotic weapons like throwing stars. There were a couple of books of simple spells and a small assortment of clothes. Apparently the guy had liked to travel light. Not that Spike minded. He'd spent several decades travelling with Dru with little for himself but the clothes on his back and a pack of smokes. If he'd needed something else he just took it.
An odd sensation in the area of his groin had him looking down. Slowly it grew into a dull ache and he began to wonder if he was going to spend his first day as a mortal being sick. A fleeting memory of his own time as a mortal had him sighing and heading to the bathroom. This was one thing he had certainly not missed in his life as a vampire. Call of nature taken care of he took a moment to explore his new penis. He was just as well-endowed in this body as he had been in his last.
Lightly stroking his fingers over his hardening flesh Spike was pleased at the sensitivity of his new body. He leaned back against the wall, his legs in a wide stance. One hand slipped beneath his T-shirt caressing his flat stomach on it's way up to his nipples. Spike pinched and twisted first one, then the other, as he began fisting his cock. His breath started coming in gasping hitches as the pleasure coursed through him. Once his nipples were swollen and puffy, the shirt rubbing against them a pleasant ache, he brought his hand down to cup and knead his balls. Panting now, he roughly squeezed himself on each stroke, the large amount of pre-come he was leaking providing ample lubricant. He slid his hand from his balls down between his legs rubbing against his puckered opening. Shifting so that one leg was bent, his foot resting on the edge of the tub, he forced a finger into his tight channel. With a hoarse shout he came, his seed spurting over his hand, abdomen and all over the floor.
When his orgasm subsided he withdrew his finger, pleased to see there was only a tiny smear of pink on it. It looked like there was a good chance the previous owner had been into blokes. Suited him just fine. As a vampire he'd been pretty willing to shag just about anything that moved. Now that he was back and about to be near Buffy again he planned to stick with blokes for a while. If for no other reason than not to tempt himself with getting involved with her again. Spike paused as he realized that thinking about the blonde Slayer didn't cause the overwhelming rush of emotions it used to. As the Powers had said thinking about her felt like thinking about a cherished memory. The pain and love were distant, things given up to the passage of time. He would always love her, but not with the same obsessive compulsion he once felt.
Cleaning himself up, Spike flushed the dirty tissues down the toilet, tucked himself back into his jeans and returned to the other room. This time his eyes were drawn to the nighttable. A book with a dark brown leather covering and a black metal clasp lay there. Moving over to the table, he picked it up turning it over in his hand as he examined it. It looked like an old journal, which would explain the clasp. There was a slight aura of power to it, reminding him of spell books, but it didn't have quite the same feel to it. Odd too was the clasp. It bound the book closed but he could find no locking mechanism or any seam to indicate where it opened. It was like each end of the metal clasp was forged to the book and no amount of prying could get it open. Rubbing his thumb over one side of the clasp to see if there was any kind of inscription, Spike was startled when the clasp suddenly popped free.
The book opened to the first page. It was a journal. He would have closed it again but the first line was an eyecatcher.
READ ME
~Hello, Spike.~
"Bloody hell." Spike froze as the familiar expletive passed his lips, but the voice was decidedly different. Gone was his cockney accent and whiskey rough voice. In it's place was a honey-sweet Southern drawl wrapped around a light baritone. Hell, it sent shivers straight down to his own cock and wasn't that a trip, being turned on by his own voice.
~Interesting choice of words.~
"Alright, how the hell does this thing know what I'm saying?"
~Magic, darlin', magic.~
"Magic. Right. That explains everything."
~Not everything, but a good deal of it. Now, I bet you're wondering who I, or more accurately, who you are?~
"Yeah...wait a minute. You're the one who used to belong in this body? How'd you end up in the book? Thought the Powers said you'd gone through the Pearly gates?"
~Yes. Because I asked. They did, and I did.~
"Right then. That was clear as mud."
~Let me explain slowly for you.~
Spike got the feeling he was being treated like a child.
~We, as in you and me now, are Remington St. James. Mostly people called me Remy. Be prepared for jokes about the Xmen character Gambit, also known as Remy LeBeau. My soul, my main consciousness is in Heaven right now. This book was created by a spell that took a small part of my essence with pieces of my personality and my memories and imbued them into these pages. Think of it as a sort of magical artificial intelligence. I can respond to your voice or words written onto the page.~
"Huh. Interesting. Was this what the Powers meant when they said I'd get some of your memories and skills?"
~Not entirely. As time passes most of my basic memories, including my fighting skills, magical, and musical knowledge will become integrated with your own memories. As the situation warrants other memories may become known to you. You've also inherited my magical ability. In case you haven't figured it out you are a Bard now. Not the most powerful one out there, but still fairly strong.~
"Is that why I feel so drawn to the guitar?"
~That's Belle. I've had her since I was thirteen years old and my father first gave her to me for my birthday. We've been through a lot, me and her. Treat her right and you'll never hear a sour note.~
"She witched too?"
~No. Not that I've ever noticed. She's just one of the sweetest musical instruments ever created. I suggest you spend some time practicing, getting to know her in a way my memories can never show you. You have a gig tonight at a little place called Changing Times. I strongly suggest you don't miss it. There's someone there who's going to be in need of some healing.~
"Oi! Grrr. That just sounds wrong when it's not my voice. Anyway, what makes you think I'm going to be some bleeding heart and help this git?"
~Why did you ask to be returned to LA?~
"Wanted to annoy Peaches for a while without him knowing who I was."
~Why did you ask to be returned to LA, Spike?~
Spike was silent for a long moment. He hadn't wanted to examine his reasons too closely. With his love for Buffy gone he didn't want to admit he still wanted to fight the good fight.
"Stupid book. Fine then. What lovey-dovey song am I supposed to sing then?"
~I can't really tell you that. Just let the Gift guide you when the time is right and you'll know. In the meantime, I suggest practicing.~
"Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I get it. Practice. So to talk to you I just open the book and talk and you'll be here?"
~Yes.~
Spike closed the book and folded the clasp over. He watched as it resealed itself, once more looking unopenable. Just to be sure he brushed his thumb over it and it popped open. Closing it again, he put it on the nighttable. He glanced over at the guitar resting in its...her case. Gently picking her up he let the memories of her unfold in his mind. The way his/Remy's father showed him/Remy how to hold her and play his/Remy's first chord. Sitting beneath a tree during lunch at school, his/Remy's friends sitting with him/Remy, laughing and talking as he/Remy picked out wandering notes, not really playing anything. The first time he/Remy played in front of an audience made up of people other than his friends and family. The first time he used his music and his Gift to stop a brawl from breaking out in a bar. The first time he used his Gift in anger, reducing an ex-lover to near-suicidal hysterics. The memories came faster and faster, moving forward into the present until the last time he played before he died.
When the rush of memories faded Spike let out a soft sigh, then wriggled back on the bed until he was propped up against the headboard, pillows behind his back, Belle cradled in his lap. Uncertainly at first he picked out a few simple chords. As they came easily he started on more complex ones. Smiling, he began to pick out the notes of a song. After a moment he began to sing along.
"Walking through the cross fire
heart
Feeling heavy and hopeless.
Wonderin' how I ever will see
Through this darkness.
Every drop of blood can be
So beautiful
And I sure was bleedin' the drops by
The bucketful.
I have the strength to endure
And all the love so pure
I have the strength to endure
Because... because...
I'm not afraid to tell her
Just how things work.
Ride a hurricane
Through the fast lane
Always looking over my shoulder
She said, "there's something about you,
And neon lights always glow hot.
Baby we can see this through,
Just give me all the strength
you've got."
I have the strength to endure
And all the love so pure
I have the strength to endure
Because... because...
I'm not afraid to tell her
Just how things work.
Ride a hurricane
Through the fast lane
Always looking over my shoulder
She said, "there's something about you,
And neon lights always glow hot.
Baby we can see this through,
Just give me all the strength
you've got".
I have the strength to endure
And all the love so pure
I have the strength to endure
Because... because..."
(Strength to Endure sung by The Ramones)
He let the day slip by as he played song after song. Some from his own memory and some from Remy's. Just enjoying the sweet sound of the guitar and the release of emotions he hadn't realized he'd been holding inside him.
******
Xander didn't bother to look at the name of the bar as he entered. He didn't care. All he wanted to do was find a seat out of the way somewhere and spend the evening drowning his sorrows. He could have just bought himself a couple of bottles of Jack and passed out in his own apartment at the Hyperion, but living with a vampire, 2 demons (and he still didn't know what kind of demons Lorne or Cordelia were), nearly a dozen teenage girls, 3 other women, and 3 other guys who all had over-protective tendencies tended to make being by himself a little hard. Not that he planned on getting falling down drunk. Memories of his drunken father and a lifetime of wariness from living in the Hellmouth made sure he never drank so much that he wouldn't be able to defend himself. And despite what the others thought he didn't want to be alone. He just didn't want to be near them. Reminders of what he'd lost. Anya. Spike. Despite their differences he had considered Spike a Scooby at the least, if not a friend. If there hadn't been so much pain between them they might have been better friends, possibly more. He wasn't going to think about it right now. Right now he was going to sit down, get some food and start drinking.
"Hi. How many?" the hostess asked with a smile.
"Just me."
"Okay. Do you want a seat at the bar, a table or one of the booths?"
"One of the booths is good."
"Right this way then." Grabbing a menu, she led him to an empty booth not far from a small stage. Xander looked dubiously at the single mic and stool setup.
"Is there going to be someone playing tonight?"
"Oh, yes. His name is Remy St. James. He plays the guitar. He has this wonderful accent. From somewhere in the South I'd guess."
"So, nothing too loud then?"
"No. I think he does mostly country music, but nothing too twangy or Gus would never let him play here."
"Works for me," Xander said sliding into the booth.
"Great. Your waitress Sandy should be by in a minute to take your order. Enjoy your meal."
After she'd walked away Xander stared at the stage for a moment. Country music. The music of pain, he thought to himself, remembering nights he'd spent lying on his bed, ear phones on with Patsy Cline, Hank Williams and Merle Haggard his only company. Looks like I came to the right place.
Shifting in his seat, he pulled out his wallet and snagged a 100 from it. Wasn't that a trip. A month after the day Sunnydale was sucked down into the Hellmouth they'd gotten a stack of letters at the hotel from the government. There had been one for each of them who'd been able to prove residency in Sunnydale for at least three months prior to it's destruction. Xander had gotten four of them. One for himself, one for each of his parents, and one for Anya since he was still listed as beneficiary on her life insurance policy. It hadn't been until that day that he knew for sure his parents had never left town. Each envelope had contained a check for $200 thousand dollars. Tax free too. It was what the California government and FEMA had decided they should be compensated for the destruction of their homes and lives. So in the space of about five minutes Xander went from having less than $10,000 saved up to having $800,000 sitting in the bank. When Angel started talking about renovating the hotel to be able to accommodate all of the new Slayers he had given him the money from his parents' checks. At first Angel had tried to turn him down, but Xander figured if his parents couldn't do anything worthwhile in life the least he could do is donate their money to a good cause. Angel had then insisted upon hiring him to make sure all of the renovations were done correctly and the way they wanted them and he insisted on paying him. So now he was a rich man. Particularly since he never spent money on anything other than the basics anymore. Little else seemed to matter to him.
"What can I get you to drink?"
Xander glanced up at the waitress who'd arrived while he was thinking. "I'd like the bacon cheeseburger deluxe platter, a side order of wings, a glass, and a bottle of Jack Daniels." He laid the hundred down on the table then looked her in the eye. "I'm not planning to make trouble. Probably not even going to drink most of it, but it'll save you from constantly having to go and get me refills. I'm just looking to be left alone and maybe drown my sorrows for a bit. Alright?"
She looked at him steadily for a moment before picking up the bill. "Keys?"
"Didn't drive. Not that I do much of it anymore. DMV gets funny about giving guys with only one eye a license."
"Got ID so we know where to tell the cab to take you?"
He pulled the card for the hotel he'd gotten a room at out of his wallet. "If I'm that drunk send me here."
"Alright. I'll be back in minute with your glass and bottle."
Once she was gone again, Xander sighed and resisted the urge to rub at his patch. Gripping his thighs with both hands, he leaned back in the booth. He wondered what the others were going to do tomorrow. Would there be some sort of remembrance for the ones they'd lost? Anya. Spike. So many Potentials. Or would it be business as usual at the Hyperion? He suspected it would be the second if Buffy had her way. When the dust had settled and things had gotten sorted out at the hotel with who was going where he'd hoped she'd start to become more like the girl she used to be. The one who smiled whole-heartedly at her Xander-shaped friend, not looked at him with the sad, wary expression he saw far too often these days. All of the old Scooby gang seemed to walk on eggshells around him. Hell, they even had the SITs doing it too. No one wanted to upset poor Xander. Poor Xander with one eye and no special powers.
He let out a soft chuckle. Of course no one had noticed. They'd always seen what they wanted to see with him. Okay, it was more like what he let them see, but still. They never tried. If they had they might have noticed the boy who thought the monsters of the night were a whole lot less scary than the monsters at home. They might have noticed the boy becoming a man trying to find a direction, but no one was there to help him. No one even had a helpful suggestion. Even now when he did have a special power no one noticed. At first he hadn't noticed either, just attributing it his training with Gunn and Angel, but eventually he couldn't explain away how he knew where everything around him was, how he could *see* everything around him. Even things that were on his left side. Finally he'd tested himself. He'd gone into the expanded library at the hotel, a room he tended to avoid like the plague, closed his eyes and using a ball of string to mark his path made his way from one end of the library to the other. Opening his eyes at the other end, he'd looked back at the winding path the string made in between the tables, chairs and bookcases. None of which had he bumped into at any point. Somehow being blinded in one eye had opened a mental eye that allowed him to see in every direction.
Like right now. He didn't flinch when the waitress appeared on his left side with the requested glass and bottle. He just turned his head so she good see his good eye and smiled. She just nodded and left. Shaking his head, he opened the bottle and poured himself a good measure. He held it up in a mock salute. "To all those we had to leave behind."
The alcohol burned as it went down, but he ignored it pouring himself another glass. The next 36 hours were going to be way too long.
*******
Walking into the bar and grill, Spike casually checked the place out as he adjusted the strap from the guitar case across his chest. It was odd. The weight was familiar and yet not. Another thing he was going to have to get used to about inhabiting this new body. Earlier when he'd been getting ready he'd been fine until he went to do something with his hair. Even back in the day his hair had never been more than shoulder length. After the twentieth time that the brush had gotten stuck in a snarl he'd stomped over to the journal, which he now called the Remy-book, and demanded to know what the hell he was supposed to do with it. He was sure the damn thing was laughing at him as it told him what to do. Once he'd gotten the snarls out he'd just tied it back with a hair band. Thankfully the clothes had been easier. The jeans and T he'd been wearing earlier, a pair of black and green leather knee-high moccasin style boots that were damn comfortable, and a hip-length black leather jacket. It had taken Spike a few minutes to tear himself away from his reflection. Unfortunately he had a job to do.
He smiled at the hostess when she returned from seating a couple.
"Evening, ma'am. I'm Remy St...."
"James. Yes, Gus told me you would be performing tonight. If you'll follow me." She led him to a table to the side of the stage. "You can put your things here. There's a three drink minimum on alcohol for all performers. Water is free. Sodas are a dollar. Gus expects two sets, each at least half an hour long. Any questions?"
"Any chance of getting a meal, luv?" Spike managed to hide his wince at using 'luv'. He'd spent the better part of an hour going through the memories of the way Remy spoke and he'd still managed to bollocks it up. Apparently not too badly because the hostess just smiled at him.
"Sure. What would you like?"
"Chicken strips would be good and water please."
"No problem. I'll put the order in at the bar and someone will bring it by," She said then headed towards the bar.
Spike pulled the case strap over his head and set her down gently against the wall. He slipped off his jacket and slung it over the back of the chair. Sitting down, he let his gaze wander over the room. There was a mix of ages, but they were all working class people. Not a yuppie in the place. Which was good because he couldn't stand the stuck-up pricks with their cell-phones and $100 knock off watches. The sense he got from Remy's memories was that he agreed. They always wanted him to play the trendy shit put out by those cookie-cutter boybands and teenybopper girls. These were solid people that would appreciate his brand of music.
He paused in his perusal suddenly. It couldn't be. A figure clothed in unrelieved black sat hunched over in a booth on the other side of the bar. He couldn't get a good look at the man's face with all the people between them, but he was sure he recognized the slump of the shoulders. He just couldn't figure out what Xander Harris would be doing here. And if it was Harris, wondered what had happened to the eye-bleeding colors he normally wore. Deciding to ignore that possibility for the moment, Spike went back to people watching. Nothing much interesting happening, certainly no one looked like they might be in need of magical assistance. He was grateful when the waitress finally showed up with his requested food and water.
Spike hadn't realized just how hungry he was until the food was placed down in front of him. He'd forgotten until now how the smell of normal human food could start a ravenous hunger in his belly. Barely managing to get out a thank you to the waitress, he practically attacked the food. The chicken strips had just the right amount of spice to them while the fries were a little saltier than he would have liked. It didn't matter though. He still inhaled the food like it had been years since his last meal. He had the grace to look a little sheepish when the waitress returned a few minutes later and he'd already cleared off his plate except for a few crumbs.
"A little hungry?"
Spike shrugged. "I forget to eat some times."
The waitress tsked as she took the empty plate. "I'll bring you another plate, hon."
Before he could protest she was already heading back towards the kitchen. He shrugged again to himself. It wasn't like he would say no to some extra food. Despite having polished off the whole plate he was still bloody hungry. Sipping from his bottle of water, Spike went back to his people watching. He still hadn't spotted anyone who might need 'healing' by the time the waitress came back with more food. Who knows, maybe they'd show up later in the evening? But the feeling that they were there already continued to linger as he snacked on the second helping of chicken strips. He ate about a third of it before pushing aside the plate. Even without Remy's memories he knew better than to completely gorge himself before he got up on that stage. Not unless he wanted these folk to remember him as the git who chucked his dinner in front of them. Definitely not the impression he was looking to make.
Satisfied his dinner was going to stay down he got to his feet. Taking Belle from her case, Spike headed up to the stage. He sat on the stool, settled the guitar comfortably on his lap and pulled the mic closer. With little effort he let Remy's memories of previous gigs guide him.
"Evening, folks," he spoke into the mic as he began tuning Belle. "I hope y'all are having a fine night. My name is Remy St. James and I'm going to sing a few songs for you. I hope you enjoy them."
He took another few seconds tuning, letting his gaze wander over the room. It finally came to rest on the man he'd thought he'd recognized earlier. There was just no mistaking him. There just weren't that many people running around with eye patches.
It was Xander Harris.
The remains of a meal were scattered on his table along with an open bottle of Jack Daniels. Considering his homelife, Spike had never picked Harris as one for heavy drinking. Granted the way he was sipping at his glass he wasn't looking to get hammered fast.
Their eyes met for a brief moment before Xander's gaze slid back to his drink. Spike had automatically started singing but his thoughts were centered on the young man. Beyond the sadness and pain he'd seen in that dark brown eye there was no recognition. He hadn't known it was Spike. What else had he expected, daft git? Hello, new body, new voice. Of course Xander wasn't going to recognize him. It was for the best anyway. Xander had too many hang-ups about vampires in general, and him in particular. Not that he blamed him considering the way life had treated one Alexander LaVelle Harris. But with things the way they were they had a chance now of being friends. And why that was suddenly so important to him he couldn't say.
Spike continued to sing, moving from one song to the next, but his thoughts kept returning to Xander and that sadness and pain. He'd wondered at first if this was a new sorrow, but there was a weariness to him that said it wasn't.
He wondered for the first time just how long it had been since he'd gone up in flames. Hell, now that he thought about it what was Xander doing in LA in a bar all by his lonesome? Maybe he and Anya had finally given up the ghost of their relationship. It was also possible the demon chit was dead. Maybe she'd fallen in that final battle. That would fit with the pain he'd seen.
Something suddenly clicked in his head. With startling clarity he realized Xander was the reason he was here. Xander was the one who needed healing. That still left him wondering just what it was he was supposed to sing. How was *he* supposed to heal Xander. Bringing his focus back to the here and now, he glanced at the clock over the bar. He'd been singing for close to forty minutes and his throat was starting to protest the abuse. Finishing the current song, he stood up. Spike smiled and nodded his head at the applause.
"Thank you. I'm just going to take a quick break and I'll be back in about 10 minutes."
Nodding again, he left the stage. He paused for a moment at the table to secure Belle in her case before heading to the bar. Snagging a stool at the end closest to his table, Spike waved the bartender over.
"Jack and coke with a bottle of water. Thanks."
The bartender, Matt according to the nametag, nodded and poured the drink. He placed it in front of Spike along with the water then pulled out a rag to wipe off the counter top.
"Interesting mix of songs you were singing there. You always so distracted when you perform?"
Spike froze, the drink halfway to his lips, then swore softly as he put it down. "Was it that noticeable?"
"Not really. I've just watched so many of you guys up there that after a while I can tell when you're not really all here."
"Guess that makes sense. You a got a calendar or today's paper around somewhere?"
"Yeah, sure." Matt turned away for a moment to grab the LA Chronicle from beneath the register. "Here ya go."
"Ta, mate," Spike replied absently, his gaze glued to the date beneath the title. May 19th, 2004. It would be a whole year tomorrow. A whole year since he'd died; since the final battle with the First.
"You okay, man? You look like you've seen a ghost or something."
"Or something," Spike mumbled. He wondered what Buffy was doing. Had she finally shacked up with the Great Pouf? And what about Nibblet? How was she doing? Was she still with Buffy or had their father finally remembered he had two daughters? He even wondered how Red was doing. Always was a good one, her, well, except for when she'd apparently gone off her trolley and tried to destroy the world. The others, the Potentials and that annoying git Andrew, he didn't care too much about. He hoped for Buffy's sake most had made it, knowing she'd take it hard if they didn't. As for Rupert and that Wood pillock he hoped a couple of Turok Han had ripped their guts out and used them for party favors after that stunt they'd pulled trying to kill him. Though he supposed as a sanctified Warrior for the Light he shouldn't be having such thoughts. The Powers That Be could just sod off then. They knew what he was like when they brought him back. Sticking him in a new body wasn't going to change anything.
Curious now he flipped open the paper and started scanning the pages. On page seven there was a quarter page article that talked about the 'earthquake' that swallowed Sunnydale, yet mysteriously hadn't affected anywhere else. The crater had been fenced off and, for the time being, was being left the way it was. There was talk of filling it with water and making a man-made lake, or filling it in and rebuilding Sunnydale. Personally he thought anything they did other than just leaving it along was asking for trouble. The Hellmouth might be buried but it didn't mean it couldn't cause trouble.
Continuing to read the article, he noted that there had been 26 known deaths. Spike knew a few of the Potentials had fallen to the Turok Hans, but unless the rest of them hadn't made it, which he doubted since Xander was sitting right there, then there'd been more than a few people too stupid to realize it was time to get the hell out of Dodge.
A glance at the clock told him it was time for his next set. Tossing back the rest of his drink, he followed it with a sip of water to ease the burn in his throat. He stood up, dropped a few dollars on the counter, waved to Matt, then headed to his table to get Belle.
He checked her over as he walked back onto stage. Spike wished he had time to talk to the Remy-book but he didn't want to look totally nutters in front of these people. Which left the question what would the Remy-book tell him? Trust the Force, Like. Spike snorted softly to himself. Despite what the Scoobies might think he did get a lot of the pop culture references they made. The only thing to do during the day was watch TV and movies. Tormenting the minions was only entertaining for so long. So he needed to trust his Gift. He'd try but it wouldn't be his fault if he bulloxed it up.
Sitting down on the stool again, he played a couple of chords. It got the crowd to quiet down and it brought to mind the song he needed to play.
"Evening, folks. For those of you who weren't here earlier my name is Remy St. James and I'm your entertainment tonight. I hope y'all enjoy the music." He paused for a moment, taking a sip of water before speaking again. He kept Xander in his peripheral gaze but didn't look in his direction.
"I was reading the paper just now during my break and I saw that tomorrow is the year anniversary of the quake that destroyed Sunnydale." Spike caught Xander's startled look but ignored it, concentrating instead on one of Remy's memories that came to mind. "The article said that 26 people were killed. While I didn't know anyone there I do know what's it's like to lose someone you care about suddenly. This song is for everyone who has ever lost someone who meant a great deal to them."
"Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared 'neath the stars above
For a moment all the world was right
How could I have known that you'd ever say goodbye
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end
the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance
Holding you I held everything
For a moment wasn't I a king
But if I'd only known how the king would fall
Hey who's to say you know I might have changed it all
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end
the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance
My life is better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance."
(The Dance sung by Garth Brooks)
As the last notes faded away Spike was startled from the reverie he'd fallen into by the sound of applause. He smiled and nodded, his gaze straying towards Xander. The younger man was watching him intently, an odd look on his face. Unsure of how to react he launched into the next song, something a bit more upbeat than the last.
"How I ever lived and breathed,
Before you loved me, I don't recall.
If I walked around at all,
It was in bits and pieces of a jagged heart.
You kissed me and every piece went back in place,
Every pain got erased
You held me up to the light."
(Unbroken sung by Tim McGraw)
Spike continued to concentrate on the music letting it flow through him. He'd felt something unfurling within him. Something that took hold of the emotion he put into the music and multiplied it. He could feel it reaching out and touching the people in the room, filling them with the same emotion. It was a bit unnerving to see them ignore the food and drink in front of them, their gazes riveted to him instead. He'd always been a bit narcissistic as a vampire but this was almost too much, even for him.
Carefully he began to pull the Gift back until the audience could still feel the music, the emotions, but were no longer mindless zombies enslaved by it. He understood better now why Remy had respected and feared his Gift. It would be so easy to use his ability to manipulate people. He could get anything he wanted but, as Spike was slowly beginning to realize, everything came with a price. The question became was he willing to pay the price, whatever it was? At the moment he didn't know. He did know that he would have to make a decision soon or it would be made for him.
******
This guy is pretty good, Xander thought to himself as the singer announced he was taking a break. Like the hostess had said he played primarily country though most of it had a light bluesy sound to it. What had really suprised Xander was when St. James had applied that same country/blues style to a few songs he recognized as punk from times he'd been forced to endure Spike's choice of music.
He also noticed how attractive St. James was. After that last demon woman had nearly succeeded in killing him his friends had all thought he was joking when he announced he was going gay. The last two times with Anya not withstanding, he'd meant what he said. Only his appreciation for the male body wasn't a new or sudden thing. After Jesse's death he gave up fighting his father's demands that he stop being some pansy-assed little faggot. Not that the beatings had stopped. They just occured a little less frequently, nor were they usually as brutal.
In the year since Anya's death he'd looked at a few guys, even gotten a blowjob or two the rare times he'd gone by himself to a club, but there hadn't been anyone he really wanted. Certainly no one he felt would stand up to the scrutiny of the gang. Xander couldn't help snickering at the thought of the number of prospective boyfriends, and girlfriends, for the SITs the gang had managed to run off. Dawn in particular had a hard time hanging onto boyfriends. Most boys tended to freak when picking up a date and a large portion of the girl's family is sharpening or polishing large sharp weapons.
Drinking down the last of his current glass, Xander glanced over at the singer sitting at the bar. Yeah, St. James was definitely hot. Beyond the name the looks kind of reminded him of the Xmen character as well. Either one were both out of his league. No one that good looking was going to have any interest in a one-eyed ex-construction worker fighter of Evil. At best St. James, assuming he was into guys, would politely turn him down. More likely he'd get laughed at. Despite his previous relationships he really wasn't into humiliation. It would just be better if he didn't think about Remy St. James and instead spent his time remembering to forget what tomorrow was.
It didn't stop him from watching out of the corner of his eye as St. James made his way back onto the stage. He was only half-listening to what he was actually saying, just letting the soft Southern accented voice wash over him, so it took Xander a moment to react. He whipped his head around to stare at St. James. Xander wanted to demand to know how he could possibly know what it had been like? The sincerity he heard in that voice, that he saw in those dark green eyes looking out at the audience before they closed stopped him from saying anything.
Then St. James started singing and at first all Xander could feel was pain. The pain of losing Anya all over again. The pain of knowing he'd never have a chance to try and make things right with Spike. Just when he was sure he was going to lose his mind from the grief he felt a small flare of hope. Hope that he would get through this, that the pain would lessen and maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to love again. He'd never forget them, they would always be apart of him, but he could keep going. As much as he could do without the grief he wouldn't change anything because then he wouldn't have had the good times.
When the song was over he didn't join in the applause but St. James still had his complete attention. The next song was a love song as well but a bit more upbeat. Xander quickly found himself drawn in by it, smiling and tapping his toes to the rhythm. By the time he realized that something was off the feeling began to fade, almost like it was slowly being drawn back. Watching St. James even more intently, Xander realized he was the source of the emotions. As far as he could tell there was no maliciousness, granted that song and dance demon hadn't seemed malicious until people started spontaneously combusting, but still it almost seemed like St. James hadn't realized how strong a whammy he was putting out at first. Then as soon as he did he started to pull it back. Xander shook his head. Even on his night off when he was trying to forget about everything supernatural it still insisted on plunking itself in his lap and saying "Here I am! You can't ignore me." He would just have to keep an eye on him, make sure he wasn't up to something.
When St. James finished his set his gaze slid to Xander and for a moment their eyes met. Xander was the first to look away, uncertain of what he'd seen in that gaze. He drank the rest of his drink and poured himself another, his gaze never straying so he didn't see St. James pack up his guitar, speak to the bar owner for a moment, then head towards him. He did notice when that soft voice spoke right beside to him.
"Mind if I join you, sugar?"
Xander looked up, turning his head so he could see him straight on. The musician was even better looking close up. Xander Jr was definitely paying attention. He waved negligently at the seat across from him. "It's a free country."
He watched as St. James slid into the seat, carefully propping his guitar case against the wall on the inside Point the musician's favor, he wasn't twigging that sixth sense for evil that Xander had developed from growing up on the Hellmouth. Maybe this could work out after all.
"You always drink alone, Sugar?" St. James asked lifting and swishing the half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels.
Then again, maybe not.
"Do you always ask questions that are none of your business?"
One finely arched eyebrow raised in question. "Thought you might be looking for some company, but Remy St. James can tell when he's not wanted."
For a brief moment Xander considered letting him leave, but then the need to not be alone smacked him upside the head.
"Wait, please." Xander sighed and dropped his gaze for second before meeting St. James' questioning look "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be a jerk. I... No, I don't normally drink alone. Normally I don't even drink more than a beer or two. It's just... You mentioned earlier about tomorrow being the anniversary of the Sunnydale quake I lost me ex-fiance and a friend in it. It's just been a little hard to deal with."
"It's hard losing some you love. Especially when you've no one to share the grief with."
"Yeah, but the funny thing is while I miss Anya, my ex, and I'd rather she be alive than dead we had our closure We both would have moved on to other things, other people. It's my friend I'm more upset about. Though we weren't really friends, more like grudging aquaintances. For various reasons that I won't go into we hated each other. Towards the end that was largely my fault. I didn't want to believe he had changed, that he was truly sorry for the things he'd done. He died thinking I hated him."
"And you didn't?"
"Not really. Not anymore. I just wasn't ready to let go of my anger."
"And now you have?"
Xander shrugged sipping at his drink. "Things change. People change. It's kind of hard not to when you've watched the town you grew up in get turned into 10 mile wide crater. Look, I'd really rather not talk about this. Right now I just want to forget about Sunnydale, earthquakes, and might have beens for the next 24 to 36 hours."
"Forgetting usually isn't the answer, but it's your life, sugar. What would you like to talk about instead?"
"How about why you're sitting here with me? If the answer is what I think it's going to be the next question is are you looking for long-term or short-term? Cause I'm not really looking for long-term." Normally Xander would have been shocked by his own bluntness but the large amount of Jack Daniels he'd consumed already, the strong need to not be alone, and the fact that St. James wasn't walking away in a huff yet kept him from apologizing or backing down.
"Have quite the set on you, don't you, sugar?" St. James said thoughtfully.
"Only one way to find out."
St. James seemed to consider this for a moment before replying, "Your place or mine?"
"Mine works," Xander answered starting to rise from his seat. Now that they'd gotten past the awkward part of making sure they were both on the same page Xander wanted to get out of the bar and head back to his hotel room. He reached for the bottle of Jack Daniels to take it with them but was stopped by a hand on his arm. He turned his head to stare at St. James.
"If it's all the same, sugar, I'd prefer you a bit more sober by the time we get to where we're going. Not really into drunks."
"Fine. Whatever." Xander left the bottle where it was and headed for the door. He didn't bother to see if St. James was following him or not. Once again he was stopped by a hand on his arm when they got out the door. "What is it now?"
"Just wanted to know the name of the man I'm about to go home with."
"Xander. Alexander Harris, but mostly everyone calls me Xander."
"Pleasure to meet you, Xander. Remington St. James, though everyone calls me Remy."
"Nice to meet you to. It's this way," he said and headed down the street, Remy falling into step beside him.
****
As the last notes of his final song drifted away Spike glanced towards Xander and found himself captivated by that dark brown eye. Even without his enhanced senses he could still see the desire. He shifted a little to relieve the pressure building in his jeans. The slight movement was enough to break the moment and Xander looked away back to his drink. Spike wanted to snarl, but held himself in check, instead turning to the audience in front of him that had started clapping.
"Thank you, everyone. You've been a great audience," Spike said as he stood. "Have a good evening."
Carrying Belle off the stage, he gently laid her in her case, quickly detuned her, and snapped it closed. When he looked up he was a little surprised to find a man who appeared to be in his late fifties standing in front of him. Spike didn't have a clue who he was and Remy's memories were oddly blank. Maybe it was just someone who enjoyed the music.
"You did good up there, kid. I'd wondered a little after the first set, but you blew them away with the second. I know you said you weren't sure how long you were going to be in the area but if you think you're going to be around for a while then we'd love to have you play here again."
"Yeah, sure. I guess," Spike replied a little hesitantly. This must be that Gus fella, he thought. "Don't rightly know how long I'm going to be in LA for, but if I get the chance I'll let you know."
"Great. Here's your money for tonight and I'll talk to you soon, kid."
"Cheers," Spike replied, waiting until Gus had walked away to see how much cash he'd just been handed. Two hundred dollars in twenties. Not bad for one night of singing, Spike mused. Now let's go see if we can't find out what the Whelp is doing here. Maybe find out if those fuck-me looks he's giving are going to lead anywhere.
He shoved the money in his jeans pocket, grabbed his jacket, Belle's case, and the half-empty bottle of water from the table before sauntering over to Xander's booth. Spike came up on Xander's blind side, not above getting a little revenge for all cruel taunts the boy had lobbed at him once upon a time.
"Mind if I join you, sugar?" He asked in Remy's slowest Southern drawl.
There wasn't even a twitch from the boy to show he'd been startled. He simply turned his head so he could look Spike in the eye, then gestured languidly at the seat across from him and said, "It's a free country."
Spike quirked an eyebrow as he slid into the booth seat and carefully propped Belle's case against the wall. This definitely wasn't the boy he remembered. He was well-dressed for one, and not just because he'd finally gotten rid of the eye-bleeding color ensembles he used to wear. These clothes matched, in color and style, and were of fine quality. Certainly a finer quality than he'd ever seen the boy wearing before. Made him idly wonder who was dressing the boy these days because Spike highly doubted it was himself. Then again, this new version of Xander seemed a whole lot more confident than before. Used to be if a good-looking bloke came up to him and started flirting the boy would have been babbling a mile a minute by now, assuming of course he hadn't already run off. This Xander acted like it was commonplace for a handsome bloke to try and chat him up. Rather than calling him on it he turned towards the other anomaly.
"You always drink alone, sugar?"
And there's the old Harris anger.
"Do you always ask questions that are none of your business?"
Deciding he didn't feel like dealing with the boy in a pissy mood, not matter how intriguing this new version was, Spike began to slide out of the booth as he said, "Thought you might be looking for some company, but Remy St. JAmes can tell when he's not wanted."
He was halfway out of the seat before Xander stopped him.
"Wait, please."
Spike paused shooting the boy a questioning look. He waited as the boy fidgeted before meeting his gaze. Then he did something Spike didn't expect, he apologized.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be a jerk. I... No, I don't normally drink alone. Normally I don't even drink more than a beer or two. It's just... You mentioned earlier about tomorrow being the anniversary of the Sunnydale quake I lost me ex-fiance and a friend in it. It's just been a little hard to deal with."
Well that answered the question of why Anya wasn't with him. It still left Spike wondering who the friend he had lost was and why he wasn't with the others.
It's hard to lose someone you love. Especially when you've no one to share the grief with," he said carefully, hoping to find out what had happened to the others.. Logically he knew Buffy must be alive if the Powers didn't want him pursuing her romantically, but it would still be nice to hear she was alive and well. What the boy said next surprised him.
"Yeah, but the funny thing is while I miss Anya, my ex, and I'd rather she be alive than dead, we had our closure. We both would have moved on to other things, other people. It's my friend I'm more upset about. Though we weren't really friends, more like grudging aquaintances. For various reasons that I won't go into we hated each other. Towards the end that was largely my fault. I didn't want to believe he had changed, that he was truly sorry for the things he'd done. He died thinking I hated him."
The boy couldn't possibly be talking about him. Not that he could see him getting all worked up over Andrew or the Wood pillock, the boy just didn't have the history with them to need closure and be this upset about not having it. So that really only left him and he had a hard time believing it.
"And you didn't?"
"Not really. Not anymore. I just wasn't ready to let go of my anger."
"And now you have?" Spike asked in disbelief. He watched as Xander shrugged and sipped at the glass of amber liquid.
"Things change. People change. It's kind of hard not to when you've watched the town you grew up in get turned into 10 mile wide crater. Look, I'd really rather not talk about this. Right now I just want to forget about Sunnydale, earthquakes, and might have beens for the next 24 to 36 hours."
Spike nodded. He could understand where the boy was coming from. "Forgetting usually isn't the answer, but it's your life, sugar. What would you like to talk about instead?"
"How about why you're sitting here with me? If the answer is what I think it's going to be the next question is are you looking for long-term or short-term? Cause I'm not really looking for long-term."
Well now, the boy certainly had grown a pair since he'd last seen him, at least when it came to propositioning someone. Let's see how big a pair he's got.
"Have quite the set on you, don't you, sugar?"
"Only one way to find out," came the quick rejoinder.
Oh, this was getting good. Now to see if he plans to go through with it. "Your place or mine?"
"Mine works."
Spike was surprised by that. He found it hard to believe the boy was living all by his lonesome in the big city, but he couldn't see him bringing home a one night stand for the girls to meet. In either case maybe he'd get some of his questions answered without seeming to pry too much. No sense in getting the boy's hackles uo before they both got their end down. He'd started to stand-up with Xander when he noticed him reaching for the bottle of Jack. No way was he going to let the boy pass this off as a drunken folly. Spike grabbed Xander's arm.
"If it's all the same, sugar, I'd prefer you a bit more sober by the time we get to where we're going. Not really into drunks."
"Fine. Whatever."
Spike sighed and grabbed Belle's case as Xander stalked towards the door. Great. Not only was the boy a pouf, which he'd always suspected, but he was a moody pouf. Why had he decided to do this? Oh yeah. He wanted to see if he could get into the boy's knickers. That and if he didn't keep things on good footing when he showed up at the Hyperion the boy would pitch a hissy thinking he was stalking him.
Bloody Hell, this new life was laready turning into an episode of Passions. As they stepped out onto the street Spike realized Xander hadn't introduced himself yet. Well, he wasn't going to be some nameless encounter for the boy. Not that he was looking for flowers and candies and a soddin' white picket fence, but still he had some standards. The boy let out another sigh when he stopped him with a hand on his arm.
"What is it now?"
Ooo, aren't we the long-suffering one.
"Just wanted to know the name of the man I'm about to go home with," he drawled.
"Xander. Alexander Harris, but mostly everyone calls me Xander."
"Pleasure to meet you, Xander. Remington St. James, though everyone calls me Remy."
"Nice to meet you too. It's this way," the boy replied gesturing down the street.
Spike fell into step next to him as they started walking. He wondered at the way the boy seemed to be in such a rush. Was it because it had been a while since he'd gotten some or did he just want it over and done with now that things had been set in motion?
Or maybe you could stop being a broody little git and enjoy shagging the boy? Spike snarked to himself. Deciding that he was spending too much time trying to figure out the boy's motives, Spike started to whistle. Besides, it wasn't like Xander knew it was him. Any ulterior motive would have nothing to do with him as Spike.
They'd gone about a block when the sight of an all-night chemist up ahead reminded him of a few necessities.
"You have supplies back at your place, sugar?" He asked nodding his head at the building ahead.
"Supplies?" Xander echoed, his brow furrowed.
Spike shook his head. "Yeah, supplies. Lube? Condoms?"
"Oh. Uh..."
"Come on. Even if I don't mind doing it bareback I sure as hell ain't doing it dry."
Ignoring the boy's blushing, Spike headed into the store. He barely spared a glance at the wizened old man sitting behind the counter moving down the aisles with a purposeful stride. He found what they needed in the fourth aisle. Xander came up next to him still blushing. Spike gestured towards the assortment of condom boxes in front of them.
"Pick out a box in your size, sugar," he said reaching out for a pack for himself. He'd never needed them before, being undead and all, but luckily one of his assimilated memories was of what size condom he wore. Spike also scooped up a couple of decent sized tubes of Slick. When Xander continued to stand there with his hand just hovering over a box Spike reached over a picked it off the wall.
"Let's go, sugar." Heading to the register, Spike had to wonder what had happened to the brashly confident young man who'd essentially picked him up in the bar. Figuring he was just going to start brooding again, he decided not to dwell on it. Instead he grinned at the old man as he dropped their selections on the counter. For his part the old man didn't even raise an eyebrow, he just picked each item up and typed the price into the ancient register. Spike pulled out enough to cover half then elbowed Xander who was looking everywhere but at the counter or the old man.
"What?"
"Pony up your half, sugar."
A quick glance at the register then he pulled out his wallet and handed over a twenty. Spike grinned at the old man scooping up the bag of 'supplies' and the change. "Thanks, Gramps."
Back out on the street Spike fell back into step with Xander, stuffing the paper bag in the pocket of his jacket. They walked for another block before turning a corner. Down the street Spike could see the well lighted entrance of a Marriott Hotel. Was this where they were going? He wondered. Maybe the boy didn't live in LA after all. If he didn't where did he live and what was he doing here? Probably planning on doing something maudlin like tossing flowers into the crater tomorrow in memory of the demon chit. Had any of the others come with him? And how the hell had the boy been able to afford a place like the Marriott on his own? Granted he could have one of those rooms that was little more than a closet. Yeah, that was probably what he had. Of course that begged the question as to why he hadn't just gotten a room at a Motel 6 or something?
They walked inside and were halfway to the elevators when one of the desk clerks called out.
"Mr. Harris? Sir?"
Xander turned and headed for the young woman who'd called out. She met him about halfway.
"This came for you, sir."
Spike was a little surprised at the deferential way she treated the boy, almost like he was someone important. Sure hotel staff was usually polite to every Joe Schmo who came through the doors, but this was more. Like he'd spent money there. Yet another piece in a puzzle that was rapidly making Spike's head hurt. He watched the boy open up the envelope he'd been handed and pull out a piece a paper. He stiffened at first, then slowly relaxed. Shaking his head, he put the paper back in, folded the envelope in half and shoved it in his pocket. He nodded to the woman then joined Spike by the elevators.
"Everything alright, sugar?"
"Yeah. Just wasn't expecting anything. 12th floor."
He hit the correct buton. An awkward silence seemed to fall over them as the elevator doors slid shut. By the time they reached the right floor Spike was fairly vibrating with the need to fidget. His fingers kept curling against his leg, moving in the patterns of various guitar fingerings. The doors opened wth a ding and he practically bolted through them. Hells, you'd think he'd never had a one-night stand before or something. Well, okay only a few. So he'd been a loyal git when he was in love. Still, he and Dru had brought home more than one lovely for a bit of a romp before dinning on them, so this wasn't exactly a new experience.
Yet standing n front Xander's hotel room door Spike still couldn't believe the boy had invited him, technically Remy, to spend the night. And not in a I-have-a-couch-you-can-use kind of way, but a lets-have-hot-sweaty-sex way. Guess his whole rant about hopping on the gay bandwagon hadn't been just a load of codswallop after all.
After three fumbling tries Xander finally manged to get the door open and they stepped inside. Spike barely had time to put Belle's case down before Xander had him pinned against the door. One strong arm snaked around his waist while the other hand tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. He moaned in pleasure as his mouth was ravaged. He really had to hand it to Harris. The boy definitely knew how to kiss. He kissed like he was already making love to you and if he lived up to half the promises his mouth was making Spike wouldn't be walking for a week.
Tugging Xander's shirt out of his jeans, Spike slide his hands beneath it to caress the silken skin. He moaned, thrusting against the leg that pushed between his. Large hands pushed at his jacket forcing Spike to pull his own hands away long enough for it to be removed and tossed to the side. As soon as it was gone Spike went right back to exploring the broad chest with his hands. His fingers grazed over stiff nipples wrenching a goran from Xander.
He growled when Xander pulled away letting him suck in a breath of air he hadn't realized he'd needed. Xander immediately began kissing his neck. Licking and nibbling a trail up the slender column to his ear. Apparently his neck wasn't as sensitive as it used to be, but bloody hell, that spot behind his ear was even more so.
"Oh Hell, Xan, right there," he gasped, his head falling back to give better access. He was rewarded with another swipe of tongue in that spot.
Then Xander's face was in front of him again, kissing him senseless. The fingers of one hand tangled at the nape of Xander's neck while the other clutched at the muscled back. He barely registered the feel of hands tugging at his waist, simply following where they led, never breaking the kiss.
They only stumbled once before reaching the bed. There they quickly set about stripping each other of the rest of their clothes. Once they were both nude Spike took a moment to enjoy the view of Xander by the light of the single bedside lamp. He'd seen the boy a time or two without his shirt on. Sun bronzed skin had covered a well-muscled torso, but it had still held traces of his lingering Twinkie obssession.
The man standing before him was paler, like he spent less time in the sun, but if possible had gained more muscle. At the least he'd lost the softness acquired from a lifetime diet of junk food. He let his gaze trail down the smooth chest, a light dusting of hair pointing the way, past the firm abdomen to the thick cock rising from the wiry bush of dark curls at the apex of two broad thighs. Spike practically salivated at the sight of Xander's cock. No longer than average, it more than made up for any lack of length with thickness. He just knew it would feel bloody wonderful inside him.
Which brought a small detail to mind.
"Why don't you spread yourself out on that sinfully large bed, sugar, and I'll be right back."
Before Xander could say anything Spike bolted back into the other room. Huh, hadn't even realized we were in a suite, he thought to himself. Wonder how he's affording it? He found his jacket in a crumpled heap by the door. Scooping it up, Spike grabbed the brown bag from the pocket then draped it over the sofa on his way back to the bedroom.
Returning, he found Xander had taken his suggestion to heart and was lying propped up on the bed. One hand lazily stroked his cock while the other pinched and rolled each nipple. It was an arousing scene. Deliberately planned too, judging by Xander's smirk. He was half beginning to wonder if the boy didn't have a split personality the way he went from shy manchild to confident seducer and back. Didn't matter much to him since they both seemed to want him.
Moving to the end of the bed, Spike began a slow predatory crawl up it. He nudged Xander's legs apart, forcing him to spread them wider as he went. Soon Xander's thighs were resting on Spike's slightly spread knees as Spike leaned forward over him. A hand on either side of Xander's chest he leaned down to capture his lips in a rough kiss. Their erections rubbed teasingly against each other in this position. Not enough for any real friction, just enough to drive a person out of their mind wanting more.
The needy little whimpers Xander was making sent delicious shivers down Spike's spine. He managed to get a tube of Slick out of the bag without too much trouble. Opening it was another matter as he balanced precariously on his knees, still kissing Xander while he used both hands to get it open. After squirting a generous amount in one hand he tossed the tube aside. Spike pulled back from the kiss, immediately moving to kiss his way down Xander's throat, across the collarbone, and down again to one of those pert nipples. As he sucked on the pebbled nub he slid the hand covered with lube between Xander's legs towards the small puckered opening.
Xander immediately stiffened with tension when his slick fingers rubbed over that most intimate place. Spike continued to rub his fingers over it in a soothing motion while he alternated between sucking and nibbling on the nipple before him. He brought his other hand into play, closing it over Xander's where it still rested on Xander's cock beginning a slow up and down motion, reawakening the flagging erection.
When he felt Xander begin to relax Spike slid a finger inside. It became a game of push and wait. He'd wait as Xander relaxed then pushed him further. He loved each breathless gasp and moan he wrung from the young man. Couldn't keep calling him a boy, now could he?
Finally satisfied Xander was ready he moved back up to look Xander in the eye. He could see want and desire alongside the uncertainty and dear in that expressive brown eye.
"Remy, I've never..."
"Shhh. It's alright, sugar. You're gonna love it. Gonna make you feel so good," Spike purred into one delectable ear, nibbling on it as he quickly rolled on a condom. Lifting up so he could see Xander's face, he began to slowly push into him. Once more it was a matter of push, then wait for Xander to become adjusted before pressing forward once more.
By the time he was fully sheathed inside Xander, Spike was panting, his whole body tremblng as he struggled not to start pounding into the wonderfully warm body beneath him. Xander was wrapped around him like a silken glove, that alternately tightened and relaxed as Xander adjusted to the intrusion.
Xander's heated urging for him to move came none to soon for Spike. He quickly started rocking.A slow glide out followed by a hard thrust in. After a few strokes he shifted Xander's legs higher onto his shoulders, changing the angle, and drove into him.
"Holy shit!" Xander shrieked, arching up into Spike, forcing him deeper.
Spike smirked, setting a steady pace as he leaned down to catch Xander's lips in a rough kiss. It had been so long since the last time he'd gotten his end down Spike knew he wasn't going to last. He pushed Xander's hand out of the way and began jerking him off with hard, strong pulls. He felt Xander's hands scrabbling at his back, one finally tangling in his hair, pulling him closer rather than pushing away as he'd half expected, the other finally settling for just griping him tightly. The steady feel of gliding in and out of tight passage, the way Xander so easily and quickly responded to him was rapidly pushing Spike over the edge.
Ripping his mouth from Xander's, he gasped, "Oh hell, luv, come for me. Can't hold on. Need to feel you come."
That was enough.
"Remy!" Xander screamed, his voice reaching a pitch that bordered on feminine, his cock spurting between them. Spike had a brief moment to smirk, before the tight muscles surrounding his cock began contracting around him, milking him.
Spike let loose a primal roar as he came. His hips jerking several more times, driving him into Xander before he slumped over the young man.
After a moment of struggling to regain his breath, really do have to remember to breathe, he chided himself, Spike slowly withdrew his spent cock from Xander's still twitching hole. Pulling off the condom, Spike tied a knot in the disgusting thing and tossed it in the wastebasket by the nighttable. Seeing that Xander was passed out, a look of bliss still on his face, he grabbed Xander's shirt from the end of the bed and wiped them both off with it before throwing it over his shoulder. Spike then grabbed the sheets they kicked out of the way at some point and drew it over them, snuggling up against the warm body next to him.
A bloke could get used to this, he thought muzzily drifting off to sleep.
*******
Xander woke with a start when he rolled over and encountered a warm body. It had been so long since he'd shared a bed with someone that it brought him instantly awake. He stared for a moment at the flat, *male* chest in front of him before lifting his gaze to meet amused green eyes.
"Morning, sugar. Sleep well?"
"Ugh," Xander groaned as he rolled over onto his back, slinging an arm over his eyes to block out the morning light. His head had begun to protest the amount of Jack Daniels he'd consumed the night before. He ignored the feel of the mattress dipping then moving back up, groaning a little as it jostled him. He heard water running for a few seconds then a minute later the bed dipped by his hip. An closed hand nudged his chest.
"Move the arm, darlin'. I've got the cure for what ails you."
Sighing, Xander moved his arm so he could see Remy holding a glass of water in one hand and a couple of white pills in the other. Closer inspection identified them as aspirin. He gratefully poped them in hs mouth and washed them down with the water. Placing the glass on the nighttable, he found Remy watching him with an oddly serius expression.
"What?"
"Regrets?"
"Regrets? About us? What we did last night? No. Drinking the better part of a bottle of Jack Daniels? Yeah. Definitely shouldn't have done that."
"Then why did you?"
"Don't, Remy. Just...don't."
Remy nodded then crawled over him so he could curl up on the other side of the bed, his head propped up on his hand. Xander was reminded of a cat by the he lay, all feline sensuousness. When he spoke his voice was a lilting purr.
"What brings you to LA anyway, sugar? Business or pleasure?"
"Technically? Neither. Both. I live a in LA now." Xander replied, lying back on the bed, one arm behind his head as looked at Remy. He watched the handsome man run an appraising eye over the room.
"Nice digs. Not very personal though. Must get expensive too."
"I don't live here in the hotel. Just didn't feel like being home for a while."
Remy nodded sagely. "No reminders."
Xander was about to tell hm to give it a rest again, when Remy rose up and straddled his legs, head bent down close to Xander's slowly stiffening cock.
"Maybe I can help you forget for awhile, eh, sugar?"
Before he could respond Remy ran his tongue up the length of Xander's cock, balls to tip. Moaning at the delightful sensation, Xander tangled one hand in Remy's long auburn hair while the other gripped the pillow behind his head. He could do little more than writhe in pleasure beneath the ministrations of that wicked tongue. He was sure Remy was trying to drive him insane as first his cock was licked like a cone of soft serve ice cream, then taken into that warm wet mouth and suckled on. Everytime he thought he was close to coming a hand would tug sharply on his balls preventing him.
He nearly growled in frsutration when Remy pulled off him. Remy must have still heard it because he chuckled and gave his tip another lick before moving up to straddle his waist.
"Easy, sugar," he purred, "just getting the lube." He plucked the open tube from the night table then slid back down to continue his oral exam of Xander's cock.
"God, Remy," he moaned, "that feels so fucking good."
He was rewarded with the feel of Remy's mouth vibrating around him as he hummed. Tingles of pleasure raced along his spine shorting out any coherent thoughts he might have. Xander had no idea how time had passed when Remy was pulling off him and moving to straddle him again. Before he realized what was happening Remy had rolled a condom onto Xander's cock and impaled himself on it. Gasping at the sudden sensation, Xander brought both hands up to grasp Remy's waist. He couldn't believe how tight Remy was around his cock, the way the muscles gripped him as Remy began to undulate against him.
He'd had sex with Anya in this position before, but this was so totally different it was like comparing night to day. Remy rode him hard and was obviously enjoying it from the way he let out a gasping moaning each time he thrust himself downward, but the way Remy would tighten and release those inner muscles around Xander told him it was about their pleasure, and not just Remy's. The other glaring difference was the column of flesh jutting up proudly from Remy's groin. It was being ignored at the moment. Remy had one hand on Xander's chest to steady himself, while the other wandered over Remy's own chest, pinching and tweaking his nipples. Watching Remy with his head thrown back in pleasure as he rode him was one of the most erotic things Xander had ever seen.
Remy slammed down against him particular hard, wringing a cry from them both, and Xander gave up any more attempts at coherent thought. Instead he tightened his grip on Remy's waist as he began thrusting in earnest into Remy's welcoming heat. Xander knew he was babbling something, but if you asked later he couldn't tell you if his life depended on it. He was sure it included a lot of "God, yes!", "Harder!", "Oh God, Remy!", and "So good!".
His back arched with each thrust upwards, heels digging into the bed for purchase, his head pushed back against his pillow, but he couldn't pull his eyes from Remy. Mind-numbing pleasure coursed through his veins like liquid fire drawing him closer and closer to the edge. Xander teetered over the abyss desperate to come but waiting for something, then Remy was howling, his seed covering Xander's chest in hot spurts. Xander shouted hoarsely as Remy's passage tightened almost to the point of pain around him, rippling, milking his cock. He bucked wildly up into Remy as he came.
The feel of Remy collapsing on top of him was the last thing Xander felt before drifting into unconsciousness.
Xander slowly came awake after that earth shattering orgasm. He was pleased to see Remy passed out, sprawled over him like a living blanket. Good to see he hadn't been the only one so affected. He nuzzled the auburn hair that was spread out in wild disarray. He couldn't remember Remy pulling out the tieback but that didn't entirely surprise him considering how out of it he'd been most of the time. Xander chuckled then took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of Remy's hair. Kind of lavendery, like one of the shampoos Anya had bought on a whim and then decided she didn't like so he'd been forced to use it or lose the eight dollars it had cost him. Beneath that was a cinnamony-spicy scent the he liked.
After a quick check to make sure his eye patch was still in place, he snuggled Remy closer, smiling when the lithe man began to stir. Xander bit back a moan when Remy stretched, rubbing against him in ways that began to reawaken certain parts of his anatomy. Finishing his stretch, Remy folded his hands on Xander's chest and rested his chin on them so he could stare sleepily at him.
"What time is it, sugar?" Even Remy's voice sounded half-asleep.
"A little after 9. You have to be somewhere?"
"Motel where I left my stuff has an 11 o'clock checkout. Need to pick it up before they think I skipped out."
"Oh. okay," Xander replied, his fingers carding through Remy's hair absently. Several minutes passed, Remy's eyes were starting to droop closed when Xander spoke again. "Are you doing anything today? Besides picking up your stuff, I mean?"
"No. Nothing I can think of," came the droswy reply.
"You want to do something? Maybe go down to the Boardwalk and hang out? Or see a movie?"
This seemed to bring Remy completely awake, his eyes opening to to regard Xander fully. "Are you asking me on a date, sugar?"
For a moment Xander started to panic, the thought that he wasn't ready to start dating running through his head, but then he caught the teasing glint in Remy's eyes. He narrowed his own eye making Remy start to shift. Before Remy could move very far Xander pounced. His fingers danced along Remy's ribs making him twist and squirm, breathless with laughter as he tried to evade Xander. Rolling them over, Xander pinned Remy beneath him until he finally shouted, "Uncle! Uncle, please!"
Grinning, Xander allowed Remy to catch his breath, enjoying the sight of the flushed man beneath him. Something about Remy drew him, made him want to get to know him better. For once Xander was sure it had nothing to do with demons or spells. His new 'sight' seemed to include an affinity for feeling magic. While Xander could feel the magic surrounding Remy, it was peaceful and, at the moment, completely dormant.
Still he wondered what it was that had so fully captured his attention. that made him start thinking about getting to know him as a possibilty for a longer lasting relationship.
"I just wanted to hang out. Spend some time with you in a non-groiny way," Xander said, continuing their conversation.
"Nothing wrong with getting groiny every now and again," Remy replied saucily.
"Remy," Xander mock-growled.
"I suppose I could be persuaded to spend more time with you, sugar. Don't have to be anywhere until I want to be. I'm a footloose and fancy-free sort of fella. At least for the moment."
"Cool. So I guess maybe we should get up, have breakfast, I can call room service, grab your stuff and then head down to the Boardwalk? Do you have a car we need to pick up?" Xander asked already planning out what they could do that day, resolutely not thinking about the letter Angel had left him last night. He didn't notice Remy's pause before answering.
"Nope. No car. I usually make do with public transport or hitching. We should pick up my stuff first, drop it off here, then eat."
"Uhm, okay," Xander replied a little confused. "Why?"
"Because we most definitely need a shower before leaving this room and if we eat later we can spend more time in the shower."
Xander was still confused. "And we want to spend more time in the shower because?"
"You're a bright boy. You figure it out," Remy replied, thrusting up against him. Xander moaned as their cocks slide against each other.
"Mmm, yeah, okay. More time in the shower is good. Definitely of the good."
"Thought you might see it that, sugar." Remy grinned up at him. After a moment as they continued to lie there Remy quirked an eyebrow. "Planning on moving any time soon, sugar?"
"If I have to," Xander replied with a grin. He swooped down for a quick kiss then bounced off the bed. He didn't get very far before he heard Remy mutter, "Ugh. That's disgusting."
Xander turned around with frown, thinking Remy was talking about him, but the sight that met his gaze had him clapping a hand over his mouth to stop from laughing. Remy had just removed the used condom they'd both apparently forgotten about from his ass and was holding it up and away from him with two fingers. He couldn't hold in a snicker or two making Remy glare at him.
"Not funny, sugar."
Suddenly he realized just what he was laughing at and he sobered up very quickly.
"If it makes you feel any better I'm clean," Xander said quietly. "You're the first person I've been with since my fiance and we were together for close to four years and I was totally faithful to her."
"That is nice to know, still not funny. Just plain disgusting waking up with one of these things still inside of oneself." Remy dropped it into the wastebasket and got off the bed. "Ready for that shower, sugar?"
Xander knew he was staring as he watched the handsome man walk away, muscles tightening and flexing with each step, auburn hair a waterfall of reds as it swayed against the lean back. Remy paused in the doorway of the bathroom to smile at him over his shoulder.
"Coming, sugar."
"Oh hell, yeah." Xander grinned, hurrying after him.
*******
Spike leaned back in his chair tilting his face up to enjoy the feel of the sun. It was still so unreal to him that he was sitting out in full sunlight and not bursting into flames. When he'd found the Gem of Amara he'd had it less than a day and all that time had been spent fighting Buffy. He wasn't going to waste a minute of this. If the Powers changed their mind tomorrow he wanted to have plenty of memories stored up. A low chuckle drew his attention to his companion.
He cracked open an eye to look at Xander sitting on the other side of the small cafe table. "What?"
"Nothing," Xander replied with a grin. "You're a sun worshipper."
"A what?"
"A sun worshipper. Someone who enjoys basking in the sun as frequently as possible. It's not a bad thing. Well, except for the eventually getting skin cancer thing, but otherwise not a bad thing."
Spike opened both eyes so he could see Xander fully. What had that evil preacher said about the boy? You're the one that sees things. Looks like he still sees things others probably wouldn't have noticed. Finally he shrugged and went for a partial truth. "There was a long period of time when I didn't get to see the sun. Kind of makes you appreciate it when you do."
He watched the look in Xander's eyes harden, could almost see the wheels turning. The next question didn't surprise him.
"Were you in prison?"
"No, not exactly. Certainly not what you're thinking. I promise I'm not an ex-con. I'm not an addict, nor am I a mental patient of any sort. I... It's just a time in my life I don't like to talk about."
After a moment Xander nodded. "I can understand that." Another minute or so of awkward silence then, "Any idea what you'd like for lunch?"
As they idly chatted over their menus, Spike couldn't help thinking back over the morning. Before getting in the shower Xander had hesitated, his fingers toying with the strap of his patch. It had been obvious he didn't want to take it off.
"Go ahead, sugar. It won't bother me," he'd said.
Still Xander had hesitated. "It's really not pretty."
"I can deal. I won't run away in horror or disgust."
Finally he'd carefully slid it off and laid it on the counter by the sink. When Xander was looking at him again he'd stepped forward, lifted his hands to cup Xander's face and kissed him. He'd then stepped back and into the shower, tugging Xander with him. Once under the spray they'd done a bit more snogging and groping until they'd come all over each other again.
After that Xander had turned him around and begun washing his hair. If he'd still been a vampire he would have been purring as Xander had massaged the shampoo into his scalp then carefully carded it through his long hair with his fingers. By the time he'd rinsed his hair and turned Xander around to return the favor Little Spike, er, Little Remy was all recovered and ready for another go. He might not have vampiric recovery time any more but this body still did alright.
He'd taken his time washing Xander's hair, being sure to rub up against him at every opportunity, until Xander had turned around and pinned him to the wall. The boy had been beautiful, aggressively plundering Spike's mouth, hands tangled in his hair as they rubbed against each other. Spike had given himself over to Xander, his hands gripping the broad shoulders and back for support. When Xander began nuzzling his neck he'd tipped his head back giving him free access. The feel of a wet tongue lapping at that spot behind his ear had had him crying out and bucking forward against Xander. Hell, it had felt so good. Even now it sent shivers of pleasure southward. It hadn't taken long for them both to come after that, shouting out their release. Another round of washing and then they'd stumbled from the shower, determined to actually get dressed and make it out of the room.
Spike had watched surreptitiously while Xander pulled a new set of clothes from an overnight bag. They were the same good quality and just as stylish as the clothes from last night. Made him wonder what the young man did for a living now and if it was moving to the big city or the Cheerleader that had improved his fashion sense. Either way he was glad for it. Some of the shirts he used to wear were enough to make a bloke _want_ to poke his eyes out.
Once they'd finished dressing they'd headed downstairs where they'd waited for a valet to bring around Xander's car. That had been another surprise. He'd vaguely recalled Xander having a sleek little four door sedan. A Chrysler Sebring if he remembered correctly. Nice, but not that expensive. Now he had a dark gray Chevy Tahoe, brand new from the looks of it, charcoal leather interior, 4 wheel drive, off-road suspension and all the other various bells and whistles. It had to have cost him a pretty penny or three. Made him wonder just how well construction work paid.
A quick look around when he was inside showed him that it was set up ideally for carting around Slayers, weapons, and other things required in fighting the oogedy-boogedies of the night. At least he knew for sure now that Xander had some contact with the others and was still fighting the good fight.
After that it was a short jaunt to Spike's motel where Xander waited in the truck while he grabbed his things. He was grateful for that, since he'd left the duffel bag wide open after his exploring yesterday. A minute to change into fresh clothes, gather up anything else he'd left out, including the Remy-book and he headed to the lobby to check out. From there they'd gone to the Boardwalk and spent some time walking around. Talking about random things, both avoiding the subject of what they did for a living. Spike didn't have a clue how he was going to explain showing up at the Hyperion to Xander now. Without seeming like he was stalking him. He'd figure it out tomorrow.
They'd finally ended up here at this little outside cafe for lunch and were enjoying the sun while waiting for their food. Xander had ordered a bacon cheeseburger deluxe platter while he got an Everything burger on a sourdough biscuit. Just before the waiter walked away one of Remy's memories surfaced.
"Oh, almost forgot. No red peppers on that. Thanks." He took a sip of water, raising an eyebrow at Xander who was watching him. "What?"
"All that but no peppers?"
"No red peppers," Spike corrected. "I'm allergic. Anaphalatic shock. Not a pretty thing."
"No, definitely not. I had a friend who was allergic to peanuts. He used to have to carry around one of those injection pens."
"Used to? It's not exactly something you out grow, sugar."
"I know. He's dead. He was killed when we were 16."
"Oh. Sorry." Spike looked out at the ocean, giving Xander a little privacy to compose himself. And when did I become such a bleeding heart, giving the boy privacy to sniffle over some git that's been dead more'n eight years, he snarked to himself. Maybe it's because you're not a demon anymore, technically not even Spike, so you can actually be nice to people now, came the reply. Remy? He thought tentatively. There was no answer. Great! Now I'm going barmy, having conversations with meself in my own noggin. Just bloody wonderful. Deciding his own sanity wasn't something he wanted to contemplate just then, Spike turned to Xander.
"So, what are we going to do today, sugar?"
The grin Xander gave him made Spike wonder if he wasn't questioning the wrong persons sanity.
"Why the same thing we do every night, Pinky."
Spike matched his grin as the spoke together. "Try to take over the world."
They both laughed.
"Loved that toon," Spike chuckled. "Brain was a crafty little bugger."
"I thought Pinky was great. Brain's hapless but very willing sidekick."
"Mmm." Spike threw Xander a sidelong glance, waiting until the younger man had taken a sip of his cola. "So how often do you think they did it?"
Spike chuckled as Xander choked and spit his drink back into his glass. He couldn't help smirking at Xander's glare.
"That was evil, Remy. Really evil. And I am never going to get that image out of my head now."
"Sorry, sugar. Couldn't resist."
"Uh-huh. Try harder next time."
They both paused the moment the words were out. Spike held his breath, waiting for Xander to try and take them back. After a moment Xander just smiled tentatively at him. He returned the smile.
"I'll try, sugar, but I make no guarantees."
"That works for me 'cause I make no guarantees about my responses, so there."
Spike laughed at Xander's bright grin. This was some of the boy he remembered from when he'd first come to Sunnyhell. Before slaying, before years of being taken for granted by his friends and time in general had started to make him the bitter, cynical man he'd become.
Their food arrived just then, cutting off further conversation. Without thinking about it he began to hum. As they ate he kept an eye on Xander, noticing that he seemed to be falling into a deep brood. Finally he couldn't take it anymore.
Wiping off his mouth, he leaned back in his chair. "Okay, sugar. What's got you all in a funk?"
"Huh? Oh." Xander wiped his own mouth and leaned back as well. "Sorry. It's just... I've been thinking."
"About Sunnydale."
"Yeah."
"You ever think maybe you need closure, sugar?"
"You don't get much more final then being sucked into the earth and buried beneath several hundred tons of dirt and rubble."
"That's not closure, sugar. Closure is saying goodbye once and for all." When Xander didn't respond he continued. "Look. I know you don't want to talk about it, but it's obviously eating you up inside. I can tell you right now the brooding look is really not the way to go."
"No. Definitely don't want to go that way." Xander paused tilting his head slightly as he regarded him. "Tell me something, Remy. Why are you here? I mean, why are you here with me right now? And because I asked you isn't the answer."
"Well now, it is partially because you did ask me, but that's not what you want to hear. You want to know why I approached you last night. Why, despite you pulling a Jekyll and Hyde more than once, I've still chosen to spend the day with you. Quite honestly I couldn't tell you. Not really. You're a good-looking fellow. Something just drew me to you last night, the same feeling that's telling me I should see where this goes. One thing I've learned lately is to trust that feeling. If nothing else last night and today were one of the more pleasurable experiences I've had in the last couple of years."
"Thanks," Xander drawled. "So you think I should say goodbye to my ex and my friend."
"I can't tell you how to grieve, sugar. It's different for everyone." He didn't mention that his usual method of dealing with things involved mass quantities of alcohol and violence. Spike figured that would ruin everything he'd just said. Xander nodded.
"You almost done there?"
Spike glanced down at his plate and the two remaining fries. He scooped them up, smeared them through the ketchup and popped them in his mouth. A few seconds to chew then swallow. He grinned.
"All done."
Xander just shook his head with a smile and flagged down their waiter.
"Check please," he asked when the man was close enough. He picked at the remains of his meal until the waiter returned. They settled up the bill and continued on their walk.
Spike enjoyed watching all the people coming and going, enjoying the sunlight. While he still couldn't care less about most of them, here and there one would catch his eye. Their innocence shining from them like a beacon. Once he would have seen that innocence as something to be preyed upon, to be corrupted. But now he saw it as something to be protected and cherished.
He'd started to realize that when Buffy had died and he'd been helping to take care of the Little Bit, but then it had only been Dawn's innocence he was interested in protecting. When he'd gotten his soul back it had told him protecting all innocence was the right thing to do but it had still just been an abstract thing to him, something he should do because it was what Buffy wanted him to do. Now he could actually see what he was fighting for. Still wasn't exactly a warm, mushy thing for him but it did give him something to point to and say this, this is why I'm doing it.
Xander veering away caught his attention. Turning, he found the young man standing in front of a florist shop with a large display of bouquets out front. A particular bouquet seemed to have caught his attention.
"What've you got there, sugar?"
"They're Tiger Lilies, Baby's Breath, and Pampas Grass. Anya's favorites."
"Huh. Interesting mix. Tiger Lilies represent wealth, pride and prosperity. Baby's Breath is pure of heart and innocence. Not sure about Pampas grass specifically but grass usually represents submission."
"How do you know that?"
Spike shrugged. "My mum and grandmum were big on flowers and such. Hard not to remember some of it after awhile." It was a partial truth. His mother had taught him all he knew about the meanings of flowers, but he couldn't very well tell him he'd been born during the Victorian era where a well-to-do gentleman *had* to know the meanings of flowers or risk insulting the woman he was courting.
Xander just nodded, seeming to believe him. "Cool, and weirdly fitting. Anya has...had a head for business. Some people would say she was greedy, even I thought it sometimes, but I finally realized it wasn't about the money itself. It was about the security it represented. It meant stability in a changing world to her." Xander sighed fingering the flowers. Spike had to bite his tongue to keep from commenting that it was probably more about greed than he realized. Xander continued speaking. "She definitely wasn't pure of heart, but she did have innocence. There was so much she was experiencing for the first time. So much that was new. The submissive part? Nope. Don't see that. Any was definitely not the submissive type. Definitely not Anya," he murmured.
"So're you going to buy them, sugar?"
"Hmm? Oh. Uh. I don't know."
After another moment Spike said, "It's not a sin to say goodbye. It's not a betrayal. It's just life. You know? Life marches on and all that?"
Xander just nodded, continuing to stare at the flowers. Spike sighed, getting ready to pick up the bouquet and buy it himself if it would get the boy moving. Xander spoke quietly, stopping him.
"Will you come with me?"
"Sure," Spike responded immediately, then paused, "Where are we going?"
"To say goodbye," Xander replied picking up the bouquet and heading into the store.
The walk back to the truck was faster as they moved with more purpose this time. Once in the truck Xander got them onto the freeway and headed out of the city. Finding the silence that had fallen between them daunting, Spike flipped on the radio. It was tuned to an eclectic station that seemed to play a mix of country, contemporary folk, light rock, and New Age.
Spike also quickly found that if he didn't have something to distract him he had to sing along. At first he just hummed, but soon he was singing along to the radio. He kept his voice low and after a little trial and error, held his Gift to a low level.
A couple of times he felt Xander glancing at him, could see the slight frown out of the corner of his eye. Slowly Xander relaxed until he was singing along as well. During the commercial breaks they'd comment on some of the commercials or Xander would point out landmarks they passed.
Spike couldn't help wondering if Xander had sensed him using his Gift. He'd never known the boy to be particularly sensitive to magic. Then again most spells cast on the boy had a tendency to go wonky and he *had* grown up on the Hellmouth. Plus he'd been chums with Red since they were in nappies. Stood to reason he'd pick up a sensitivity to it, especially once he was away from the blanketing influence of the Hellmouth.
About two and half hours out of LA they began to pass signs announcing the new detour on the highway. The old highway had run straight through Sunnydale and was destroyed along with everything else. With each sign they passed Xander became quieter and quieter until he stopped talking altogether. Xander drove past the new highway exit without even a glance at it. A short distance later they came to a road closed sign and wire mesh fence. Xander slowed the truck down and turned off the road. As they bounced along the uneven ground, sometimes going right over small bushes, Spike was glad the boy had gotten himself the truck rather than another one of the sedans he'd seemed partial to before.
They bounced along like that for a while, Spike wasn't sure for how long exactly, before the fence suddenly ended and Xander turned the truck around it. Several more minutes of jolting along, until they arrived back at the road again. Spike glanced at Xander. "Been here a few times have we?"
Xander just shrugged continuing to watch the road.
Soon enough they came to another fence, the crater just barely visible beyond it. Quirking an eyebrow at the padlocked and chained gate and the numerous signs warning people to stay out, Spike asked, "Now what, Sugar?"
"Stay here," Xander replied putting the truck in park. Getting out, he moved around to the back and opened one of the rear doors. Interesting, Spike thought when Xander pulled out a pair of bolt cutters. Boy's definitely been here before.
Xander walked around to the gate and efficiently cut the bolt securing the chain together. He hung the chain over the gate before swinging it open. The cutters were put in the back again and Xander resumed his place in the driver's seat.
Spike was struck silent as they approached the crater. There'd been a small picture of it in the paper, but seeing it now, in person was something else entirely. Xander parked the truck a good distance back, but Spike could still see that it easily stretched out for miles. It felt like he was visiting his own grave. Which he supposed was technically true. Somewhere buried beneath all that rubble and such were the ashes of his old body. Felt odd really. He hadn't had a grave when he was Turned. Drusilla had kept his body until he awoke, then he'd gone and Turned his mother so there was no one to see to it that he, or his mother, had a grave.
He still wondered some days what had made him think they could be one big happy vampire family. Sodding little mama's boy is what he'd been. Spike sighed. He still loved her though. Should have just killed her instead of turning her. Couldn't change what he'd done though. No going back. Speaking of no going back, he hurried to get out of the truck and followed Xander at a slight distance, giving the boy some room.
Up close to the edge of the crater he let out a soft whistle. The bloody thing was huge. He'd known it would be big. Couldn't swallow a town the size of Sunnydale and not be big, but this... this was bigger than he'd expected. Not only miles across but a couple of miles down too it looked like. It wasn't a straight drop though. It was kind of sloped and there were jagged outcroppings here and there. Body'd get bashed up right good if they fell. Looking around, he saw some heavy duty construction equipment off to the side that he hadn't noticed before. And now that he looked for it he could see a narrow road had been carved into the slope. Big enough that one of those bulldozers could get down it, but not more than that. He wondered why they'd bothered, unless they really were serious about redoing the town.
Spike was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Xander speaking. It took him a second to realize it wasn't to him. Once he figured out the boy was talking to the ex-demon he let his attention wander some, though he did keep an ear to what Xander was saying. Just because he was a bona fide white hat now didn't mean he couldn't indulge his evil side once in awhile. If nothing else it helped him catch up on what was going on with the rest of the Scoobies. Like confirming that most of them were in LA now, having joined forces with Peaches and his little group of do-gooders. He wondered what the pouf must have looked like when he found out his hotel was being overrun by teenage girls. Would have been fun to be a fly on the wall that day. He wasn't surprised to hear that Buffy and the Cheerleader were butting heads. He loved Buffy but she could be a bit self-centered at times, and the Cheerleader wouldn't take crap from anyone. Hearing that that Kennedy bint was getting on people's nerves wasn't a surprise either. Always was a right spoiled brat, her. Far too used to getting her way. He couldn't help muffling a snort when Xander talked about Andrew's antics. It sounded exactly like something the little git would do.
When Xander started saying his good-byes to the ex-demon Spike stopped listening in. Turning his thoughts to the crater before him again. The thing really was bloody huge. It was easier to see now that the whole thing was sloped, all the way down to what was roughly the middle. Made him wonder if that was where he'd been standing when the amulet turned him to dust. Was that his actual burial spot? Not that he'd be able to tell if he started digging. Wasn't as if his ashes were going to look any different than the rest of the dirt in there. Would have been nice to have his remains. Put them in a fancy little urn.
Spike snorted quietly. Wouldn't that be a bit of morbidness? Keeping your own remains on the mantelpiece. No more morbid he supposed than the little tinderbox he used to carry with his mum's ashes. A reminder of his mum and what a right poncy nancy boy he'd been.
"Hi, Spike."
He almost answered before he remembered he wasn't Spike anymore. Intrigued, he went back to listening shamelessly to Xander's little one-sided conversation.
"I hope you're doing okay, that if you're not in Heaven that you're at least in Purgatory."
That earned him a surprised glance from Spike. Though he guessed he shouldn't be surprised with the way Xander had been talking about regrets.
"You did too much good, even before you died saving the world, to end up in Hell. Or at least I think so. Not that what I think carries a whole lot of weight with anyone, not even Buffy and Willow anymore. Except Angel on occasion, oddly enough."
Spike frowned over that tidbit. Buffy and Willow ignoring Xander wasn't a shock, they'd been doing it for years, but it still bothered him. He also had to wonder what game Angel was playing at if he was suddenly listening to what Xander had to say. Not that the boy didn't have some ruddy brilliant ideas on occasion, and he did see things others didn't, but his Sire and Xander had never been known for getting along.
"I can't believe how much I miss you, Spike. You were always a pain in the ass, but towards the end there it started to feel like we were friends. I never did thank you, you know. I kept meaning to but things were happening so fast and I couldn't seem to get past my own pain. Then you were gone and all the things I'd meant to say remained unsaid. But I'm saying them now. Thank you, Spike. If it hadn't been for you I'm sure I would have lost both my eyes that night. For all that I bitch about lack of depth perception it's still better than never being able to see again."
Yeah, it would have been nice to have heard it back then, Spike silently agreed, but even he could admit that had Xander tried to say thank you before he died at best he would have brushed the boy off, at worst he would have ridiculed him for needing to be rescued in the first place.
"So, thanks, Spike, and I'm sorry for the way I treated you at times. Uhm, Angel gave me this letter to read to you."
Spike started a little at that. The last thing he'd expected was to hear anything from Angel.
"I haven't a clue as to what it actually says since it's in Gaelic spelled out phonetically. So if he says anything that pisses you off just remember I'm only the messenger."
He was even more surprised to find out Angel had written him in Gaelic. Granted it was probably the best way to make sure that Xander couldn't understand it.
"{Dearest Grand-Childe. Yes, William, you are dear to me. There are so many things I would say to you, but I'm sure Xander would prefer I keep it brief.} Hey! No fair talking about me when I can't understand it!"
Spike snickered both at Xander's half-hearted protest and at Angel's message.
"{It's taken having you die to realize how I truly feel about you. Jealousy. Hate. Love. Pride. Such pride I feel for you. Even as a fledgeling you were strong. You reveled in your viciousness, yet you held onto an edge of your humanity, never letting me break you. I realize now that for all I have wanted to believe you were a monster, you weren't. I was. I saw my reflection in you and it shamed me. You're a good man, Spike. The world lost a good warrior when you died. Rest in peace.}"
He barely noticed Xander's pause as he tried to grasp that his Sire had been proud of him. That he hadn't hated him. He only half-listened when Xander continued speaking, though he looked over when he heard, "Always did wonder what your natural hair color was. Soft."
Xander was holding a lock of his hair from back when he was a fledgeling. He even vaguely remembered the scrap of ribbon that was holding it together. Seeing it was a shock. He'd never known that Angel had carried it. Had to wonder why in the long years they had been apart his Sire had held onto it. Perhaps for the same reason that he had held onto his mother's ashes. A symbol of mistakes made. Though Spike finally realized that Angel hadn't regretted finishing his Turning for Drusilla, but the monster he had worked so hard to turn him into.
"Remy? You okay?"
"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine," Spike replied, not having realized that Xander had stood up and walked closer to him. Not wanting to give himself away he gestured towards the crater. "Seeing it in person it's..."
"Yeah," Xander nodded, moving to stand next to him, "I know what you mean."
Another few minutes passed in silence before Xander nudged him. "C'mon. It's going to be dark soon and we've got a long drive back to LA."
Spike nodded and followed Xander quietly back to the car. The whole thing had given Spike quite a bit to think about. Maybe there was a chance that he could find a place in his Sire's and in Xander's life and not have to worry about getting staked when they figured out who he really was. Certainly was something to think about.
******
Xander stared out over the crater that had once been his hometown. He couldn't feel the dark energy that had been such a part of his life growing up that he hadn't known it was there until it was gone. He didn't miss it. It would have been wrong if after all that had been sacrificed - Anya, Spike, his eye - if the Hellmouth had remained open. At least this gave him the satisfaction of knowing that it hadn't all been in vain.
Crouching down by the rim, near enough that he could see the bulk of the crater but not so close he risked falling, Xander trailed his fingers through the dirt. The sun was starting to set. If he was going to do this is had to be now.
"Hey, Ahn. It's been awhile since we last talked. I miss you. I miss talking with you. I miss just being friends. I brought you some flowers. Your favorites. Everyone's doing good. We're in LA now. Basically took over Angel's hotel and made it Slayer Central. It's been interesting working with the LA gang. I don't know if you remember Cordelia or Wesley. They left after graduation. They work with Angel now. They've both changed a lot from the way they were in high school. I was a little worried at first that we weren't going to be able to work together but we are. Not that we don't all butt heads occasionally, cause we do, usually Cordy and Buffy. Although Kennedy is really starting to push her luck. If she wasn't still sleeping with Willow I think we'd have sent her to Giles and Faith in Cleveland a long time ago. But things are going good.
"Andrew's still alive and kicking. Okay, more like alive and whining. You'll probably get a laugh out of this. Andrew's decided that since you died saving his life he has to take care of me now for you. He does everything for me. He cooks my food, does my laundry, cleans my suite. I tried to explain to him that you spent most of your time insulting me and spending my money. He listened to me with that serious little expression of his before trying to insult me. Then spent five minutes apologizing for doing it before walking off in a huff. Thank God he hasn't tried crawling into my bed yet. I love Andrew, but in the way you love a little brother or a puppy. God, I am so not looking forward to the day I have to tell him I'm not interested. I just know I'm going to stick my foot in my mouth and hurt him."
Xander sighed rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "I really do miss you, Anya. I miss my friend. I hope you're someplace good and that you're happy. I love you, sweetheart."
Xander gently brushed his fingers over the flowers then with a sigh tossed the bouquet into the crater. He closed his eye for a brief moment asking Anya's forgiveness for moving on. He knew she was probably standing up there in Heaven somewhere, hands on her hips, earnest expression on her face as she told him to get over it and find someone nice who would give him many good orgasms.
Maybe it was time to start moving on. A one night stand with the man standing a short distance behind him wasn't really moving on, but maybe it was a start. Not that he was sure Remy was the one for him. Hell, he admitted he was still on the rebound. Could someone be on the rebound from having their ex-fiance die? He wasn't sure, but he didn't see why not.
And babbling is not going to get you out of talking to Spike, he mentally chastised himself. He pulled the envelope from the hotel out of his jacket pocket. Turning it over in his hands a few times, his gaze wandered out over the crater. So much death and destruction, even before the Hellmouth had swallowed the town.
Knowing he couldn't put it off any longer, Xander began to speak, "Hi, Spike. I hope you're doing okay, that if you're not in Heaven that at least you're in Purgatory. You did too much good, even before you died saving the world, to end up in Hell. Or at least I think so. Not that what I think carries a whole lot of weight with anyone, not even Buffy and Willow anymore. Except Angel on occasion, oddly enough." Xander paused chewing on his lip. He sighed and shook his head. Such was the strangeness of his life, he supposed, that Deadboy paid more attention to what he had to say than the two people he'd considered his bestest friends in the whole world. Even Spike had paid more attention to him, even if it was just to make fun of him. "I can't believe how much I miss you, Spike. You were always a pain in the ass, but towards the end there it started to feel like we were friends. I never did thank you, you know. I kept meaning to but things were happening so fast and I couldn't seem to get past my own pain." Those last days were nothing *but* pain it seemed. His eye, the repeated defeats at the hands of Caleb and the First, the loss of one Potential after another, the mistrust between them all. And then they all pulled together for that final battle. At the end there, standing in the middle of the new school, for a moment, it had felt like old times, like the four of them were all still best friends and vampires weren’t nearly as scary as the chem test on Friday. But just as time had caused their little group to grow larger it would also take away those they cared for. "Then you were gone and all the things I'd meant to say remained unsaid. But I'm saying them now. Thank you, Spike. If it hadn't been for you I'm sure I would have lost both my eyes that night. For all that I bitch about lack of depth perception it's still better than never being able to see again.
"So, thanks, Spike, and I'm sorry for the way I treated you at times. Uhm, Angel gave me this letter to read to you. I haven't a clue as to what it actually says since it's in Gaelic spelled out phonetically. So if he says anything that pisses you off just remember I'm only the messenger. " He haltingly sounded out the words, protesting good-naturedly when the only word he understood was his own name before he continued reading the rest. When he came to the end he looked at the paper for a moment then shook his head. "I hope you understood that, Blondie, because I don't have a clue if I got even half of it right."
He folded up the letter and tucked it away before he pulled the other item out of the envelope out. The dark blonde strands tied in a faded piece of pale blue velvet ribbon caught the light of the setting sun making them shine like spun gold. They felt like the softest silk against his work-roughened hands. "Always did wonder what your natural hair color was. Soft."
Reaching down with one hand, Xander dug a small, but deep hole in the ground. He placed the locket of hair in it and covered it over once more, packing down the dirt when he was finished. After a moment Xander rose to his feet. Turning, he found Remy standing a few feet away looking out over the crater. There was a look of deep sadness on his face, making Xander wonder what he was thinking about.
"Remy? You okay?"
"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine," Remy replied seeming to come out of a daze. "Seeing it in person it's..."
"Yeah," Xander nodded, moving to stand next to him, "I know what you mean."
Another few minutes passed in silence before Xander nudged Remy. "C'mon. It's going to be dark soon and we've got a long drive back to LA."
Remy nodded, falling into step beside him. They walked back to the truck in silence and got in. Xander didn't mind it much, lost in his own thoughts of what growing up on the Hellmouth had been like. It certainly hadn't been dull once Bufffy arrived and they'd learned about the things that went bump in the night. There had a been a time or two when he'd wondered what life would have been like if Buffy hadn't shown up. Even before Cordelia had told them about the wish-universe he'd figured life would likely be very, very short or a century or two too long.
No, even knowing what he did now he didn't think he'd change things. It was a lot like that song Remy had sung the night before. Knowing how it all would end, he might have done things differently but then he would have missed all the joy that had come with the sadness. Life really was better left to chance.
Xander's thoughts were brought back to the here and now at the sight of a state trooper patrol car waiting just outside the gate. Catching sight of the car number, he gave Remy a reassuring smile as he brought the truck to a stop. He opened the window waiting for the trooper to get closer before saying, "Evening, Officer Henley."
"Harris. Out for another visit?"
"Yeah. Sorry 'bout the lock."
"Uh-huh. You know I'm going to have to arrest you one of these times for trespassing," Henley said conversationally, resting an arm on the side view mirror.
Xander shook his head. "Nah. This is the last time I'll be here." At the doubtful look he said, "It was time to say goodbye. They're in a better place and I need to get on with my life."
"Good. Letting go is hard but usually for the best. Well, I've got a lock to replace. Best of luck to you, Harris."
"You too, Henley." Xander waved starting the truck forward once Henley had stepped back. This time they went through the outer gate which had been left open.
When they were a good distance away Remy asked, "How often did you come out here?"
"About once a month," he replied. "More in the beginning when everything was still so raw."
He could see Remy nod in his peripheral vision before the other man turned to look out the window. Most of the rest of the trip was made in silence. Not even the sound of the radio. It wasn't until they passed the city limit sign that Xander spoke again.
"You want to maybe... maybe spend the night again? We could get something to eat first? Or maybe get room service back at the hotel?"
"Room service sounds good," Remy answered turning to look at him. Their eyes met for a long moment. Xander felt like he was looking into the eyes of an old friend. An old friend he wanted to shag through the mattress, as Spike would have put it, but a friend none the less. One who knew his highs and his lows and still wanted to be near him, still wanted him. He swallowed hard.
"Room service it is then."
*******
Spike didn't know why it felt so important that he be with Xander tonight but he wasn't going to ignore the feeling, and certainly never one to turn down a free meal, a place to sleep and a warm body to curl up with, he agreed. Though nothing else was said in the car they were both practically vibrating with desire by the time they reached the hotel.
After grabbing his duffel bag from the back they left the truck with the valet and headed upstairs. Catching Xander's gaze in the mirrored walls of the elevator, Spike held it until they reached their floor. Inside the room Spike put his duffel to the side.
"How late does room service run?" he asked, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it over the back of the couch.
Xander glanced up from the menu. "10:30."
"What time is it?" Spike sauntered towards him, coming to stand behind Xander. He brought his hands up to Xander's waist, pulling him back until their bodies were flush against each other. The feel of the younger man leaning back into his touch had him smiling into Xander's neck.
"Seven," Xander finally replied, pulling away just enough that he could turn to face Spike. "Why? Did you have something in mind? Besides eat."
"Oh, I might have a thing or two in mind, sugar," Spike teased, stepping further into Xander's space, their noses bumping together lightly. He stole a quick kiss. "I am hungry, but not for food."
"Is that so?" Xander replied, stealing a kiss of his own. "If you're not hungry for food, then I wonder what it could be?"
Tugging Xander's shirt from his pants, Spike slid his hands underneath to the silky skin. He dipped his head, nuzzling at Xander's neck, his tongue darting out to lick at the skin behind an ear. "Mmm. You could guess, but I'd much rather show you."
"Oh yeah," Xander moaned, head thrown back, fingers clenching around Spike's biceps. "I could, mmm, right there, go for a, oh God, a hands on dem-demonstration."
Spike grinned when Xander's fingers tangled in his hair, pulling his head away so he could look him in the face.
"Bed. Now."
"If you insist, sugar."
Spike laughed at Xander's growl. "Hey!" he yelped when he found himself hanging upside down over Xander's shoulder. Presented with an unhampered view Spike couldn't pass up the opportunity. He reached down, giving the flexing muscles a good squeeze and was rewarded with a firm swat to his own backside.
"Behave."
"Or what, sugar?" Spike grinned up at Xander after he was tossed on the bed.
"Or you get to spend the night on the couch while I jerk off in my nice comfy bed."
"Oh that's harsh, sugar. How about I help you with your little problem and then you can help me with mine?"
"Little?" Xander demanded, crawling onto the bed until he was hovering over Spike. "Little? Does this feel little to you?"
Spike moaned when Xander lowered himself, grinding their pelvises together. Gripping Xander’s hips with his hands, he pulled him down tighter, enjoying the friction. "Hmm. I don’t know, sugar. It’s hard to tell what with all the clothes we’re wearing."
"Maybe we should do something about that."
"Maybe we should."
A look passed between them, then hands were scrabbling at clothes, more often getting in the way than helping. Finally they got their shirts off, but Xander had to stand up to take his shoes, slacks, and boxers off. Spike wriggled around on the bed undoing the button and zipper on his jeans and pushing them down. He'd managed to get them to his thighs when he let out a yelp. Xander had grabbed the bottom of each jean leg and yanked. It almost worked until the knees of his boot-cut jeans caught on his boots. They both stared at the jeans a moment before looking up at each other. Finally Spike said, "Usually works better if you take the boots off first, sugar."
"Ya think?"
Spike quirked up an eyebrow.
"I was trying for spontaneity," Xander defended himself.
"Well, it was spontaneous."
Another look and then they burst out laughing. When they calmed down they both reached for his boots. Xander got the left one while Spike managed the right. A bit of tugging and pulling, along with a bunch of cursing, and they were able to get Spike's legs untangled.
Now that they were both finally naked Xander smirked at him. "Where were we?"
"Hmm. I think you were about to ravish me for being a bad boy."
"Oh, was I now?" Xander's smirk got wider as he knocked Spike's legs further apart so he could crawl onto the bed between them.
"Mm-hmm," Spike murmured, sinuously stretching and swiping the lube and a condom from the night table. He handed them to Xander as he wiggled against him suggestively. Xander moaned low in his throat, grabbing the proffered items with one hand, the other clamping onto Spike's hip to hold him still so he could prepare him.
Now it was Spike's turn to moan, his hips thrusting down to take in more of Xander's thick fingers. Panting, his fingers clutching at Xander's broad shoulders, Spike wondered a little at his total willingness to bottom for Xander. As a master vampire his status would have been questioned had he let another top him. Sires and Consorts were a whole other matter. He'd never taken anyone, even Dru, as a Consort, and after surviving Angelus' attentions he'd never really had any inclination towards letting someone else take him. So where did this desire, almost need, to bottom for Harris come from? Was it because of that Bardic gift he'd been saddled with? Or, an even scarier thought, was Remy's old personality somehow merging with his own?
I'm not sure if the above paragraph really works here. Might be going off on too much of a tangent and interrupting the flow of the scene but it seemed to be one of those natural progression things so I went with it. Let me know what you think.
These questions were driven from Spike's thoughts as Xander slowly thrust into him. His whole world focused on the cock filling him, the pleasantly heavy body covering him. Spike tilted his hips, legs wrapped around Xander's waist, meeting him thrust for thrust. Lightning danced behind his eyelids as his prostate was stroked over and over again. He could hear Xander babbling in his ear, knew he was making some interesting sounds himself, but it didn't matter. All that mattered were the waves of pleasure sweeping through him, building higher and higher until they reached a crescendo and shattered him into a million pieces. He let out a hoarse cry as he came.
A few seconds later Xander stiffened, shouting out his release against Spike's neck.
Spike let out a soft grunt when Xander collapsed bonelessly on top of him. They lay tangled together for several moments, their breathing slowly returning to normal, before Xander rolled off of Spike to dispose of the condom. Raising himself up on his elbows, Spike looked down at the mess pooling on his stomach.
"Got a towel or something, sugar? Don't much fancy the thought of going to sleep like this."
He flopped back down with a grin as Xander heaved himself off the bed.
"What, you don't like the debauched look?"
"Debauched is one thing. Sticky is another."
"Uh-huh," Xander smirked, disappearing into the bathroom. Spike heard the water running then shut off. A few seconds later he came back out. Spike couldn't help but appreciate the sight of Xander walking towards him. Long, lean lines accentuated a firmly muscled body. With his longish black falling rakishly over his face, the black eye patch and gloriously naked body Xander reminded Spike of a buccaneer coming to claim his prize. A little pale to be a true pirate, but it didn't detract from the image. The tingling in his groin told him it was definitely a kink they'd have to explore at some point. Assuming of course that Xander didn't kill him when he found out who he really was. Once again he pushed those thoughts aside when Xander tossed him the damp hand towel.
"Here you go, your Highness. Would you like me to bathe you?" Xander teased.
"Ooo, slave boy fantasy," Spike smirked, folding his hands behind his head and shimmying a little. "You may clean me now, and make sure you get everywhere."
"In your dreams, Greeneyes," Xander laughed snagging the Room Service menu as he climbed onto the bed.
"Please? I have such nice kinky dreams," Spike purred.
Xander chuckled, grabbing and draping the towel across the mess on Spike's stomach. "We'll do something about your kinky dreams later. Right now I need food."
"Spoil-sport," Spike mock-growled as he cleaned himself up. "So what's on the menu, sugar?"
"Usual. Steak. Pasta. Chicken. Seafood. Burgers. Ooo, pizza."
"So I take it you want pizza?" Not that he should be surprised by this. He well remembered the boy's fondness for it.
"We can get something else..."
"Pizza's fine. You have a preference on toppings?"
"Nah. Not really. Except anchovies. I will never, ever willingly eat a pizza that had anchovies on it at any point."
"I have to agree with you there, sugar. Those things really are disgusting." Spike shuddered at the thought of the hairy little fish. "How about an Everything pizza minus the 'chovies and the red peppers?"
"Sounds good to me."
While Xander called in the order Spike finished cleaning himself off and returned the towel to the bathroom, snagging a new one on the way back. Xander hung up the phone just as he climbed onto the bed and straddled him.
"How long did they say it was going to take?"
"Half an hour?"
"Good," Spike purred. "Gives us plenty of time."
"Plenty of time for...oh!"
Spike smirked when Xander's eyes widened as he held up a new condom.
"That's one way to pass the time," Xander commented as he hurriedly rolled the condom onto his rapidly hardening cock.
"Oh, hell yeah," Spike moaned, impaling himself. It was the best way to pass the time.
********
Xander woke slowly, enjoying the feeling of Remy curled in his arms. He'd never realized just how much he enjoyed sleeping with someone in his arms until he and Anya had broken up and she was no longer there. Nuzzling the long hair in front of him, he smiled when Remy sighed softly and sank deeper into his embrace.
"Mmmm. Is it morning?"
The sleep-roughened voice sent a shock of arousal straight to his groin. A quick glance at the clock told him it was a little before six.
"Yes, but it's still early."
"Good. Don't want to move."
"No?" Xander inquired innocently.
"Nope."
Xander slid his hand down Remy's chest until he brushed over a nipple. With lazy strokes of his fingertips he brought it to pebble-like hardness.
"Still no?"
His answer was a long groan and Remy shifting to press his butt against Xander's arousal. Xander grinned pressing a kiss to Remy's shoulder. He let his hand slip down to caress Remy's stomach, slowly dipping lower but not quite far enough to reach the erection he knew he'd find there.
"Thought you didn't want to move?"
"If you don't do something with that hand I'm going to have to hurt you, sugar."
"You mean do something like this?" Xander brought his hand back up to toy with one of Remy's nipples. He laughed when Remy growled low in his throat before twisting around and pushing Xander onto his back. He quirked an eyebrow at the man now straddling his waist.
"What happened to no moving?"
"You want me to stop moving?" Remy asked archly as he ground his hips down, their erections sliding against one another.
"No. Moving is good. Moving is very good. Hey! You stopped moving." Xander glared up at Remy who had lifted off him and was now rummaging on the nightstand. He returned Remy's smirk when he saw the foil package and tube of lube in the other man's hand. "Okay, you can stop moving for that."
"So glad you agree, sugar," Remy replied tartly. He quickly tore open the package and sheathed Xander's cock in the latex then drizzled lube over it. A little surprised when Remy leaned over and started kissing him again, Xander went with the flow, shuddering a little in pleasure when Remy's cock slid against his. Suddenly Remy pulled away and Xander bit his lip, moaning as Remy lifted up and then slowly impaled himself on Xander's cock. God, he couldn't believe how good this felt. He'd always kind of wondered how guys had been willing to do this, the little bit of 'research' he'd done had made it seem really painful, but what Remy had done to him the other night and this ... this was as far from painful as it was possible to get. And, okay, he was the one doing Remy, but the look on Remy's face was pure bliss. Head fallen back, eyes closed, mouth open as he panted letting out these breathy little moans that aroused Xander even more. Then Remy did something with his hips on a downward thrust and Xander couldn't think anymore.
Gripping Remy's hips tightly in his hands, Xander began thrusting up, slamming into the slender man. Remy's eyes shot open, but then drifted closed again as he leaned forward a little to place his hands on Xander's chest, using him as leverage. They rode each other hard, gasping and moaning out encouragement until Remy's back arched, his head thrown back as he screamed his release. The velvet channel spasming tightly around him pushed Xander over the edge and he cried out, thrusting up one last time.
He gently caught Remy when the other man slumped forward onto him. They lay together for several long minutes, catching their breath. Xander looked over at the clock again. It was inching towards six thirty and he really had to get up and start packing so he could return to the Hyperion.
He wished they could stay here, coccooned in their own little world in which only they existed. No work, no friends, no battles between Good and Evil ... Just them. He really liked Remy, could even maybe see them in a relationship, but the reality of his life wasn't something he could ignore. Sighing, he nudged Remy.
"I gotta get up, man."
"No. Comfy," was the reply as Remy buried his face in the crook of Xander's neck.
"Yes. I have to shower and pack."
When Remy just snuggled closer Xander gripped Remy's waist and rolled them over. He smiled at Remy's glare.
"Sorry, Rems, but I really do have to get going. Don't make me take drastic measures."
A pout and long legs wrapping around his waist were his answer. Biting back a smile, Xander mock-sighed.
"Well, you've forced me into it." He dove in for the attack.
Remy's eyes widened and he tried to scramble away, but it was already too late. Xander's fingers danced along Remy's sides making him wriggle and writhe helplessly with laughter. Xander ignored the breathless cries to stop as he mercilessly tickled him, a devilish grin on his face. When Remy couldn't even laugh, being so out of breath, Xander relented, turning the tickling to soothing caresses then finally stopping.
"You really are evil, sugar," Remy gasped out.
"You forced me into it," Xander smirked. Getting off the bed, he disposed of the used condom, wincing a little at the mess it had made on the sheets. "I really do have to get going, Remy, but you're welcome to join me in the shower."
Remy waved him away, curling up in the sheet with a yawn. "You go. I want a little more sleep."
"'Kay." Xander ran his fingers over Remy's hair briefly before heading to the bathroom. On auto-pilot he started the shower and got in, his thoughts on the man asleep in his bed.
Beyond the fact that introducing him to the gang would be like running the gauntlet, how was he going to explain the freakier aspects of his life? Like all the demonic women he'd dated. Did he want to? And if he didn't, was he willing to have a relationship where he had to lie about pretty much everything, knowing those lies would kill it in the end? He'd seen the others try and they had all ended up with broken hearts.
Then there was the power he'd sensed coming from Remy. Both at the bar and in the truck on the way to Sunnydale. Yeah, it had never felt malevolent - yes, Giles, I can use big words - but that didn't mean it couldn't be used for evil. So, if Remy was some sort of magic user or magical being then at some point Remy was going to try to kill him. 'Cause, hey, everyone with magic tried to kill him at one time or another. And what was up with that anyway? Why was he the one everyone was always trying to kill first?
Warm arms slid around his waist distracting him as they pulled him back against an equally warm body. Lips nuzzled at the skin behind his ear.
"You're thinking too hard."
"Really?" Xander replied, turning around in Remy's arms.
"Mm-hmm. Could practically hear you in the other room. Yesterday was the right thing to do," Remy said leaning forward to kiss him.
Xander relaxed into the kiss, happy to know that mind-reading wasn't an ability Remy had. He let his hands wander over Remy's water slicked back, cupping and kneading the muscular flesh. It was tempting to let him think that's why he was brooding, to let this 'thing' between them end once they left the suite and never see each other again. To not explore the instant connection he'd seemed to feel with him or why he felt so familiar to him. In the end he wanted a chance at happiness, and he was never going to get that chance if he didn't try.
Pulling away with a sigh, Xander rested his forehead against Remy's. "I don't regret yesterday. It was time to say goodbye. I was actually thinking about us and not wanting to go home, but I've got a job to go back to and you must have something you need to do. A job or something?"
"Sorta. I've got people I work for but I'm not tied down to it." Remy looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before saying, "Why don't we take off, sugar? Just you, me, the open road. From the sounds of it your friends haven't really been there for you, why don't you just say ... say screw them and take off? Tell 'em you need some time for yourself, need to figure out who you are or what you want or some such rot. Works for chicks all the time."
Xander laughed at that but shook his head. "I can't. I know who I am. I know what my responsibilities are. I can't just walk away."
"Damn you responsible types," Remy grinned. "It was a nice thought though. I figure I'm going to be in the city for awhile. Maybe we can get together sometime?"
"I think I'd like that," Xander replied, then with a smirk he backed Remy up against the tile wall, pinning him there with his body. "I can think of something else I'd like even more right now."
"Oh, yeah?" Remy returned, his breath already coming in short gasps.
"Oh yeah," Xander replied capturing his lips for another kiss as he thrust his hips forward. Pinning Remy to the wall, he tangled one hand in Remy's hair, holding him close as they kissed while the other slipped down between them to grasp both their cocks. Xander responded to Remy's moan with one of his own, enjoying the way the other man gasped and shuddered beneath his touch. At first he kept his movements slow and even as he stroked them but, despite having come only a little while ago, he soon wanted hard and fast.
Remy's fingers dug into his biceps, holding him tightly as the man thrust eagerly into his grip. After a moment Remy yanked his head back from Xander's, only Xander's hand keeping him from cracking his skull, as he sucked in great gulps of air. Xander let his head drop forward so he could lick at Remy's neck, moving to the spot behind the ear that he knew drove Remy wild.
"Oh! Oh, Xan! So good. Oh hell, so good. Gonna...I'm gonna...Oh, bloody...Xander!" Remy cried out as he came all over Xander's hand and stomach. The feel of Remy coming sent Xander over the edge, his shout muffled against Remy's neck as he thrust raggedly against him. Slumping forward, he rested his forehead on the cool tile behind Remy, feeling the steady, if fast, thumping of the heart in the chest beneath his.
Once he could breathe normally again Xander grabbed a washcloth and soap and began cleaning off Remy. When he finished Remy took the cloth and soap so he could return the favor. Xander couldn't help chuckling at Remy's pout when the special attention he paid to Xander's limp cock didn't get a response. His spirit might be more than willing, but the flesh was just too tired.
"Sorry, Remy. Doesn't look like a round three is in the cards."
Remy shrugged pushing Xander under the spray to rinse him off. "It's okay. Technically I think it was about round nine or so anyway considering how many times we did it last night."
Xander considered that for a moment then let out a laugh. "Yeah, I suppose so." One thing he'd always be grateful to Anya and her never-ending quest for the perfect orgasm for was the stamina and skills he'd developed. No lover he took to his bed would ever leave unsatisfied. Not that he'd taken all that many. Okay, so Remy was pretty much the first one since Anya, but still, if he did, they'd be satisfied.
Reaching over, he shut off the water before stepping out of the shower. He snagged a towel for himself and tossed one to Remy. He had to admit one perk he liked about spending the extra money for a good hotel room was the towels. Instead of the skimpy little things that would barely fit around an anorexic these were full-size, wrap around you twice towels. And soft too. A quick rub down then Xander wrapped it around his waist so he could brush his teeth and shave. Remy disappeared into the bedroom for a moment, coming back in with a toiletry case. Another perk of the room was a double sink vanity so they weren't elbowing each other for space.
Finishing up, Xander headed back into the bedroom to pull out his last set of clean clothes. The dirty ones were shoved back into the bag even though he knew both Cordy and Andrew would get on his case about it. He saw that Remy had brought his duffel bag into the room and left it lying open. The urge to snoop was strong, but he held himself back. The last thing he wanted was for Remy to come out of the bathroom and catch him. He also noticed an old leather-bound book had been left on the nightstand. The thick metal clasp on it had him raising an eyebrow but once again he stopped himself from trying to take a peek. It looked kind of like an old journal. Xander just hoped it was of the mundane variety rather than the mystical type. When Remy came out of the bathroom he pretended not to notice the way Remy quickly grabbed the book and shoved it in his duffel.
It only took Xander a few more minutes to finish his packing. As he walked into the outer room of the suite he tried to think of some way to extend their time together. He felt oddly reluctant to just let Remy leave, even with the promise of calling each other at some point.
"Hey, you need a lift somewhere?" Xander asked placing his packed bag by the suite door.
"Sure, if it's not out of the way," Remy said pulling a crumpled piece of paper out of his jacket pocket. "It's a, uh, detective agency run out of an old hotel. The Hyper-something. This is the address."
Xander stared at him. He couldn't be talking about the Hyperion. No way in the world could Remy be talking about Angel Investigations. It just wasn't possible.
"Sugar?" Remy asked when Xander remained silent. Without saying anything Xander snatched the piece of paper from him, flattening it out so he could read it. It was the Hyperion's address. He glared at Remy.
"Is this a joke? Where did you get this? Who gave you this address? Who?"
"Calm down, sugar. Don't get your panties in a twist. It's not a joke, and the people I work for gave it to me. I don't see how it's really any of your business though. If you don't want to give me a ride just say so. I can call a cab."
Xander felt the anger rising inside him. He couldn't believe he'd been such a fool. He grabbed Remy's arm keeping the man from walking away from him. "Who do you work for? Who gave you this address? I want an answer, Remy. If that's even your real name. Who sent you?"
"Let go of me! I told you it's none of your business and why the hell wouldn't you think I'm who I say I am? I'm beginning to think you're a few bricks short of a load, sugar."
"It's my 'business' because I *work* there. Now why don't you tell me who you work for and who the hell you really are? And you can start with the way you entranced the audience at the bar or did you think I didn't notice that?"
"You work there? Great! That means we work for the same people. The Powers That Be."
Xander frowned, his stance relaxing a little but he didn't let go. "You work for the Powers That Be? So, what, they tell you to use mojo on a bunch of innocent bar patrons? I don't think so."
"Yes. No. Not exactly, but in a way. Would you mind letting me go, sugar, and we'll talk about this like civilised people?"
Reluctantly Xander released him as they sat down on the couches. He did keep himself between Remy and the door in case he tried to make a break for it. The amused look he got told him the gesture hadn't gone unnoticed.
"Fine. We're sitting. Now give me a good reason why I should believe you work for the PTBs."
"You've heard of Bards, right?"
"Outside of fantasy fiction, no, can't say as I have."
"Right. See, it's like this. Music, it's got emotion. That's why it touches us, makes us feel, yeah? Happy songs make us happy. Sad songs depress you. Songs with a good beat give you energy, get you going?"
Xander nodded, getting an idea as to what Remy was trying to say but not sure if he liked the implications. "Yeah, I get that. Still not reassuring me."
"Right. My gift lets me amplify those emotions, and yeah that's not always a good thing."
The look in Remy's eyes when he paused reminded Xander of the times he hadn't always followed the right path. Of the times that they'd all strayed and the guilt felt afterwards. Either Remy really was a good guy or he was a damn good actor.
"I admit there was a time or two I used the Gift for the wrong reasons, particularly when I was first learning to use it. Thing about the Gift is, it's empathic."
"So you can tell what I'm feeling right now?" Xander eyed him warily, wondering now if he'd been played.
"No, I'm not empathic. The Gift is."
"But..."
"Yeah, I know. Confusing, ain't it? See, what happens is normally I can't sense, read, whatever your emotions but when I'm playing, when I'm singing and I let the Gift loose I can start to sense them. Sometimes if an emotion's particularly strong it'll home in on that. It'll let me project an emotion to an audience, and sometimes it tells me what someone needs to hear."
He stared at Remy for a long time, trying to believe he hadn't heard what he just had, that there was some other reasonable explanation. But as much as he wanted to, he just couldn't find one. There was no way around the truth.
"You bastard! You have been manipulating me this whole time. What you said in the bar about Sunnydale, losing someone, it was all a crock of shit. You wanted an 'in' to Angel Investigations so you figured you'd use me. Well, I've got news for you, buddy. It won't work. No way in..."
"Listen!" They both paused at Remy's sudden shout. Remy continued more quietly. "Listen to me, Xander. I did not, nor am I, manipulating you. What I said in the bar was the truth. I had just read the article about Sunnydale in the paper, and I do know what it's like to lose someone. I didn't know anyone from the agency was going to be there. All I was told was that I needed to be at that bar because someone would be needing my gift. I had no idea who you were, much less that you worked at the agency. And before you ask, 'cause I know you will, I didn't sleep with you because of the Powers or my Gift. I did that because I wanted to."
"So it wasn't just some opportunity you couldn't pass up to get at the agency by getting in the pants of one of the weaker members?" Xander asked bitterly. The words butt monkey kept running through his head.
"Well, it was an opportunity I couldn't pass up, but not like that. More of I saw a handsome guy giving me the eye and it's been awhile since the last time I got... got laid. Honestly, most of my one-night stands have a whole lot less baggage than you, but something told me I should stick it out, that maybe it would go somewhere. I get that if we end up working together this could be kind of odd between us. Like I said before, I do what I want. I don't have to do what the Powers tell me and they know that. If you don't want me there I can walk away from this. Walk away and you'll never hear from me again."
Xander met Remy's gaze squarely, searching for a hint that he was being lied to, that it was all a trick. All he could find was sincerity. As far as he could see Remy was telling the truth, he meant what he was offering, which led Xander to wonder if he had the right to accept that offer. Yes, things might be awkward if he showed up at the Hyperion with Remy. He wouldn't even have to say anything for the girls to figure out that there was something going on between them. Hell, Angel would probably smell it on them the second they walked through the door. If Remy was going to be around for awhile, possibly even staying at the Hyperion with the gang, it also brought up the question did he want to try and continue a relationship with him? The only answer he could come up with was maybe.
Sighing, Xander rubbed at the back of his neck, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before meeting Remy's gaze again. "If the Powers That Be are the ones who told you to go to the Hyperion then they've got a reason for it. With my luck I'd tell you to walk away and the next the major baddie we come up against it turns out we need a Bard to defeat it." He paused. "I'll take you back with me, but I think I'd prefer it if we tried being friends before doing anything else. I haven't exactly come out to my friends, though they'll probably figure it out when we show up together."
"Why would they jump to that conclusion?"
"Because they always jump to that conclusion," Xander replied dryly. "Does that work for you?"
"I can handle that."
"Good. Finish getting packed. I told the gang I'd be back at the hotel by 9. It's almost 8 now and I still have to settle my bill and check out."
"I'll be all set in a couple of minutes."
Xander nodded as Remy got up and headed back into the bedroom. This was it then. Time to head back to the 'real' world and face the music. Where was an open Hellmouth when you needed one? Oh, yeah, Cleveland.
**********
Walking into the Hyperion behind Xander, Spike marveled at how homey the cavernous lobby appeared. There was a large sweeping staircase leading to the second floor on the right side, the requisite receptionist's desk on the left just past the doorway to another room. The far side of the room had a door going out to a sun-drenched courtyard and two staircases facing away from each other that also went up to the second floor. To either side of the staircases were archways, most likely leading to the kitchen and such. The rest of the room was filled with groupings of comfortable sofas and armchairs, and a couple of cafe style tables with chairs. A fair number of the chairs and sofas were occupied by teenage girls. Many of whom he recognized as the Potentials from Sunnydale. Willow, Angel's Watcher, and that geekboy Andrew were standing at the receptionist's desk, numerous dusty tomes spread out before them, Willow's laptop off to one side.
The pouf himself was arguing good-naturedly with a bald-headed black man, who either liked guns or was named Gun, by a weapons-case as they put away the ones they carried. Their voices quickly tapered off when they realized the whole room had gone silent.
Spike was beginning to feel like a bug under a microscope. Finally he couldn't take it anymore. "You going to introduce me, sugar, or do I have to come up with my own names for everyone?"
Several mouths opened to speak but were interrupted by the sound of footsteps and voices coming down the stairs. Looking up, Spike got his first glimpse of Buffy in a year. She hadn't changed much. Gained back some of the weight she shouldn't have lost in the first place. She looked happier but there were still harsh lines around her eyes. Being the only Slayer, for all intents and purposes, for so long had taken its toll on her.
Again Spike was pleasantly surprised to find that the sight of the blonde Slayer only invoked a slight wistful feeling in him. He shifted his gaze to those walking with Buffy. Cordelia, the Prom Queen herself, he recognized, but not the other two. A mousy brown-haired girl and a green-skinned demon, Pylean if he guessed right. Seemed like the Pouf had a full house.
"Who's your *friend*, Xander?"
Spike felt his hackles rise at the way Buffy sneered the word. He saw Xander flush slightly but meet Buffy's gaze head on.
"His name is Remy St. James. The Powers That Be sent him here. We just happened to run into each other."
"And you believed him? Geez, Xander, you are so gullible sometimes."
"Rude much?" Cordy snapped at Buffy.
"Oh come on. Like you can't feel there's something different about the guy?"
"Just because he's different doesn't mean he's evil," Xander admonished.
"But..."
"What-what if Lorne, you know, read him?" the mousy girl suggested. "We'd know then right?"
Spike started to say something but Xander beat him to it.
"So not feeling the trust here, guys. Jesus, after eight years you'd think you could give me just a little bit of credit, Buffy."
She at least had the decency to look a little contrite, but it was still overshadowed by the I-know-you-want-to-help-but-I-know-better look she'd perfected even before Spike had died. It was no wonder that Xander had become bitter and cynical putting up with this. What was amazing was that he wasn't even more so. Spike couldn't help commenting.
"Lovely group of friends you have here, sugar. Just makes me feel all warm and mushy inside at the love I am definitely not feeling here. I've got better things to do. Care to join me, sugar?"
Spike turned to go but stopped at Angel's, "Wait!"
"Yes?" He asked turning around to face his former Grand-Sire.
"I'm sorry about the less than warm greeting. It's just we've learned not to be too trusting of strangers. Even ones claiming to work for the Powers."
"Darlin', I've gotten warmer welcomes from Raksharran demons and they like to use humans as chew-toys. Look I'm all for being wary of new people, but all y'all are downright distrusting. Xander's been right kind to me, but I've got better things to do than be insulted by y'all. Just because the Powers say jump doesn't mean I always say how high. Keep in touch, sugar," he said giving Xander a quick peck on the lips before turning to leave again. Only he found his way blocked by the tall green demon wearing a tasteful gray suit with a red shirt that matched his eyes.
"I don't mean to interrupt your grand exit, sugarplum, actually I do, but something is screaming at me that we need to a reading. I do believe you so we can do this out here for all sundry or we can take this somewhere private. If the Powers That Be didn't give you specifics then a reading might be the only reason you're here. It wouldn't be the first time someone was sent my way so I could nudge them in the proper direction. What do you say, sugarplum?"
Spike gazed at him for a moment before asking, "Whatever you 'read' stays between us, right? No announcing to everyone things that are private?"
"I promise, sugarplum. It stays between us. Unless of course you're planning on disembowelling us or something else equally nasty. Then I sing like a lark. Agreeable?"
"Agreeable. So where do you want me to play?"
Lorne glanced around then gestured towards the archway on the right. "How about in here? It should be a little more comfortable. The name is Lorne, by the by."
"Fine by me. Join us, sugar?" he asked, glancing at Xander. He knew the whole bloody lot of them would insist on being there, but something made him want to be sure Xander would be too. Turning into a soppy git, he was. Xander just nodded and followed.
The room Lorne led him into looked like some sort of rec room. Once again a number of couches and armchair groupings, a few tables, one with a half-done puzzle, a couple of others with computers. There was a pool table off to one side. One end of the room was taken up with a large screen TV, sofas and chairs. Probably had a movie night once a week or some such.
This was where Lorne led him. Spike snagged a wooden straight-back chair and placed it in front of the TV. He smiled reassuringly at Xander, who was still looking unhappy, before turning to Belle's case. He glanced at Lorne.
"Anything in particular I should sing?"
"Whatever moves you, sugarplum."
Spike nodded, sitting down in the chair with Belle in his lap. He glanced around the room at the people gathered as he re-tuned the guitar. Angel's minions were intermixed with the SITs, as Xander called them, and the old Scooby Gang. He didn't miss the way Gunn hovered protectively over the ex-Watcher. If he'd still had his vampiric sense of smell he was sure their scent would be all over each other. The pouf himself was lounging against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Willow and Kennedy sat next to each other but there was a space between them indicating all was not right in their little world. The twit Andrew sat with the mousy girl named Fred, and Dawn. Spike managed to hide a smirk as he watched Andrew try to decide who he wanted to stare adoringly at: Xander, Angel, or himself. The boy was going to give himself whiplash.
All tuned he picked out a few notes, trying to decide if he wanted to treat them to a full blast of his gift or not. Figuring it might interfere with the reading, he decided not to. Spike nodded to Lorne who sat next to Xander and Buffy.
"You all set?" Spike asked.
"Whenever you are, sugarplum."
"Okay then." He launched into the rock n' roll rhythm of the country song he'd chosen. It just seemed appropriate somehow, he snickered to himself.
"My mother said, there's only one way,
Sweet angel boy, narrow and straight
Timing it is past, teachings they fade
Now her angel boy has gone astray."
Spike had a hard time not laughing at everyone's reactions. Most of the SITs were clueless, though a few did titter and shoot glances at Angel. He'd straightened up from his lounging to glare at him, but otherwise didn't move. Gunn, after a moment with his jaw hanging open, began snickering while Wesley had a look of mild British indignation on his face. Cordy and Xander had no problem showing their amusement and were practically rolling on the floor. Buffy had her usual look of outrage on her face, but seemed to be taking her cues from Angel and refrained from attacking. Willow appeared torn between outrage and amusement, with amusement in the lead. Lorne, well, Lorne looked gobsmacked. Spike wasn't sure if that was good or bad yet, so he just kept singing.
"I've felt the hand of the Devil, felt his breath on my
skin
Dip me into the water, wash me again
Can I still be forgiven for all of these things
Or have I gone too far now?
Have I lost my wings?
I found a priest, I spoke my mind
Asked if I'd sinned one too many times
He said "My son, you're only a man"
Then I said, "Sir, you don't understand"
I've felt the hand of the Devil, felt his breath on my skin
Dip me into the water, wash me again.
Can I still be forgiven for all of these things
Or have I gone too far now?
Have I lost my wings?
God help us all for what we have done
We've lost our way, we can't find the Son
We make our beds, we seal our fate
Is there still time, or is it too late
We've felt the hand of the Devil, felt his breath our skin
Dip us into the water, wash us again.
Can we still be forgiven for all of these things
Or have we gone too far now?
Have we lost our wings?
We've felt the hand of the Devil, felt his breath our skin
Dip us into the water, wash us again.
Can we still be forgiven for all of these things
Or have we gone too far now?
Have we lost our wings?
Have we lost our wings?"
(Angel Boy sung by Tim McGraw)
By the time he finished Xander and Cordelia had gotten a hold of themselves and were bopping to the peppy tune alongside the others. At least those who weren't still glaring at him like Buffy. The pouf had a look of resignation on his face.
He ended the song with a slight flourish, chopping off the long instrumental that usually followed the end of the lyrics. No sense in delaying the inevitable. Spike just hoped they decided not to kill him since technically this wasn't his body, and ‘Remy’ might need saving.
Everyone had turned to stare at Lorne who was still staring at him. Finally tired of waiting, Spike spoke up. "Hey, Xan. I think you might want to poke him or something. He seems stuck."
Before anyone could follow through on his suggestion Lorne shook his head coming out of his trance.
"Well paint me pink and call me Tutti Frutti. You and I definitely need to have a chat, baby boy," Lorne said rising to his feet.
"Is that a...good thing?" Angel asked.
"Hmm? Oh! Yes. Southern sweetness is definitely of the good. Full blessing of the Powers and all that," Lorne waved a dismissive hand at Angel, his attention focused on Spike. "Well, get your things, sugarplum. We'll go up to my suite to talk. Xander honey, would you make sure the apartment next to yours is livable for him? Good. Good. Off we go now."
Spike let himself be ushered out of the room and onto the elevator, bemused by the way Lorne had taken charge and just bullied everyone into what he wanted. He did wonder a little at the decision to put him right next to Xander. Especially if the Pylean had a clue as to whom he really was.
"Stop brooding, baby boy," Lorne interrupted his thoughts as they stepped off onto the fifth floor. "Tall, dark, and gloomy is bad enough. Besides you have a whole lot more to be joyful for."
"I do?" Spike asked cynically.
"Oh yes indeedy. Yes indeedy." Lorne opened his door and gestured him inside. "Have a seat."
Spike looked around the furnished front room of the apartment before sitting in an armchair placed catty-corned to a long sofa and across from another armchair. Lorne sat on the sofa, one arm resting along the back, his legs crossed elegantly at the knee.
"So. How's it feel to be back among the living and breathing, Spike?"
**********
Part 13