Fic: Apathetic, for 100moods spander table
Title: Apathetic
Fandom: Buffy The Vampire Slayer
Characters: Xander/Spike
Prompt: Apathetic
Word Count: 1299
Rating: PG
Warning/Spoilers: Umm, S4 roughly, but no real spoilers and definitely no warnings.
Summary: Xander's bored on a Sunday night and goes out with Spike.
Unbeta'd this time, cuz I suck!
The last bottle of beer was drained and the empty bottle placed on the coffee table. Xander surprised himself with a solid burp, then giggled. “Sorry. Too much beer, I think,” he said.
Spike just looked over at him and shrugged, swallowing the last of his whiskey-laced blood.
Nice shoulders, Xander thought to himself, nodding at their graceful lift and fall. Shaking his head clear of the thought, clearly inspired by too much alcohol, Xander relaxed back onto the sofa, laying his head along the back edge. He sighed.
Sunday in Sunnydale sucked. Nothing on t.v., his friends were getting ready for Monday so he couldn’t hang with them, and nothing really to do in town but go to the Bronze - which would be shutting down early - and dance or play pool, neither of which was fun to do alone.
He turned and looked at Spike again, who also looked bored with the afternoon. Maybe this time, the damn vampire would actually want to do something. He sucked in a fortifying breath - rejection sucked, no matter where it came from - and spoke.
“Oh man, I’m bored! What d’ya say we head over to the Bronze for some fun?”
Spike stared into his empty mug, and shrugged - again. “Don’t care. Reckon anythin’ll be better’n just sitting here.” He turned to Xander. “What’ll we do when we’re there?”
Xander thought for a few minutes. He knew Spike had been feeling pretty worthless lately, what with the chip, then that demon nearly taking his head off last week. He’d been completely, uncharacteristically nice for almost five days now. Xander may not like the bleached menace, but he certainly was getting to know him, living in such close proximity. He figured Spike needed a little bit of mayhem.
“Well,” he said, “You could hustle some unsuspecting college boys out of their daddy’s money. Buy me a couple rounds of beer, and pretend you’re not ogling my hot sexy bod.” Xander giggled at his own joke, not seeing Spike take a precursory glance at said body. “Then, I suppose, we could head over to Willy’s where I will watch you kick several kinds of demons’ ass. After which, I’ll carry you back here, and tuck your bruised and battered, but highly satisfied body into bed.” He frowned a second, on reflection of what he’d just said, and clarified. “I mean, drag your limp and busted body back here and toss you onto the lounger where you sleep, far away from me and be in no way gentle or caring about doing it.”
“That sounds like a solid plan, Harris. What are you waiting for?” Spike stood and searched the small basement for his duster. Finding it draped over one of the kitchen chairs, he crossed over and slid it over his shoulders.
When Xander heard the satisfied sigh following the settling whisper of leather, he grinned and rose from the sofa. “Let me get my shoes on, grab some cash, and we’ll be outta here.”
“Make it snappy. Been feelin’ cooped up in this hole and this idea of yours is sounding better every second.” Spike cracked his knuckles and flicked a loose bit of polish off his nails. Then he dug in his coat pocket for a smoke and lit it up, uncaring about Xander’s ‘no smoking in the basemen’ rule.
Xander chuckled a the flick of the Zippo, and glanced in Spike’s direction as he settled his own coat over his shoulder. His breath stopped.
Spike leaned against the stairs, head tilted back, taking a hit off the cigarette. His lips pursed and he blew the smoke out, eyes closed, shoulders loose. Xander watched Spike’s pink tongue sneak out, probably tasting the remnants of blood and tobacco on equally pink lips. How the hell do vampires have such pink lips? was the asinine thought that ran through his mind. Focused on those lips, he watched them as Spike lowered his head and slowly opened his eyes.
“You ready?”
“Ah,” Xander hefted a breath, “ahem, yeah. Just, let me...” He picked up his wallet, checked the cash in it, and rose an eyebrow at missing a ten spot. “...get my wallet.” He glanced up at Spike’s not so innocent face and shook his head. “After you, Spike.”
The Bronze was dead, but they managed to find a couple of arrogant and really stupid frat boys playing pool. Xander stood back, sipping on his free beer - the frat brats had lost the first game and the bet had been a round of drinks - watching Spike clean the boys out. He was in his element really.
Duster long since shrugged off, cigarette hanging from his lips as he talked smack and aimed and shot. Then he’d swagger around the table, hand Xander the cigarette, take aim again, and wink at his opponents. That almost flirty smile would make an appearance, and Xander had already had to intervene twice, keeping No-neck McCleanshaven from busting Spike’s nose. The scripted, “Ignore the grin, he’s not comin’ onto ya, big guy,” was getting old.
“Spike?” he called out, after once again stalling the fight that Spike couldn’t win.
“Yeah, pet?” Spike was taking aim at the eight ball, when he looked up at Xander, blue eyes flashing unmitigated glee at cleaning out the two bozos.
“Finish these two off. I’m ready to head over to Willy’s.”
“Right.” He grinned, took his shot, and Xander cringed at the amount of blustering that came from No-neck and his buddy when the little black ball sank out of sight. Spike just stood up, laid his cue on the table and said, “I do believe that was double or nothing, gents, and I also believe I just cleaned you out. Now, be good little losers and hand over the dosh, or my friend there’ll be very unhappy.”
“Spike! What the hell are you doing?”
“Just givin’ the blokes a little incentive to pay up, Xander.” Spike clapped him on the back.
“Well could you not and say you did?” Xander looked over a the other guys, who now both looked to be reconsidering paying their debts. Xander swallowed thickly.
“If the little man here is all we’ve got to worry about, then no, I don’t think we’ll be letting go of our money.” No-neck stated.
“Oh no.” Xander squeaked. “I really don’t think that’s such a good idea.” He glanced to his side, saying, “Spike, tell them it’s not such a good idea to not pay up.” Spike wasn’t there. “Um, Spike?”
“Right here, pet.” Spike spoke from behind the two college guys, and when they turned to face him, he slipped into his demon face and growled. “I think, gents, you’d best rethink that little idea ‘bout not payin’. What d’ya say?”
“Right!”
“No problem, man!”
“You won, fair and square!” No-neck snatched his wallet from his pants pocket and emptied it onto the table. Then both boys scrambled over each other to get away from Spike and Xander.
Xander eyed the cash as Spike laughed at the patheticness of American college boys. “Pansies,” he chuckled.
“Spike? How much did you bet those guys, with the double or nothing?”
“Ahh, should be ‘bout seventy-five dollars there, Xan. Why?”
Xander lifted the wad of cash. “Cuz you just scared almost five hundred bucks from those two, my fiendish not-quite-friend!”
“Huh.” Spike spared an uncaring glance for the cash, then looked around for his duster. “Well, suppose that’ll keep you in pizza and me in blood for a while, eh? What say we head off. Willy’s is waitin’.”
“Oh, this is gonna be good.” Xander pocketed the cash, and followed Spike out the door. “You’re so gonna kick some ass, aren’t you?”
Spike glanced back at him and grinned.
Fandom: Buffy The Vampire Slayer
Characters: Xander/Spike
Prompt: Apathetic
Word Count: 1299
Rating: PG
Warning/Spoilers: Umm, S4 roughly, but no real spoilers and definitely no warnings.
Summary: Xander's bored on a Sunday night and goes out with Spike.
Unbeta'd this time, cuz I suck!
The last bottle of beer was drained and the empty bottle placed on the coffee table. Xander surprised himself with a solid burp, then giggled. “Sorry. Too much beer, I think,” he said.
Spike just looked over at him and shrugged, swallowing the last of his whiskey-laced blood.
Nice shoulders, Xander thought to himself, nodding at their graceful lift and fall. Shaking his head clear of the thought, clearly inspired by too much alcohol, Xander relaxed back onto the sofa, laying his head along the back edge. He sighed.
Sunday in Sunnydale sucked. Nothing on t.v., his friends were getting ready for Monday so he couldn’t hang with them, and nothing really to do in town but go to the Bronze - which would be shutting down early - and dance or play pool, neither of which was fun to do alone.
He turned and looked at Spike again, who also looked bored with the afternoon. Maybe this time, the damn vampire would actually want to do something. He sucked in a fortifying breath - rejection sucked, no matter where it came from - and spoke.
“Oh man, I’m bored! What d’ya say we head over to the Bronze for some fun?”
Spike stared into his empty mug, and shrugged - again. “Don’t care. Reckon anythin’ll be better’n just sitting here.” He turned to Xander. “What’ll we do when we’re there?”
Xander thought for a few minutes. He knew Spike had been feeling pretty worthless lately, what with the chip, then that demon nearly taking his head off last week. He’d been completely, uncharacteristically nice for almost five days now. Xander may not like the bleached menace, but he certainly was getting to know him, living in such close proximity. He figured Spike needed a little bit of mayhem.
“Well,” he said, “You could hustle some unsuspecting college boys out of their daddy’s money. Buy me a couple rounds of beer, and pretend you’re not ogling my hot sexy bod.” Xander giggled at his own joke, not seeing Spike take a precursory glance at said body. “Then, I suppose, we could head over to Willy’s where I will watch you kick several kinds of demons’ ass. After which, I’ll carry you back here, and tuck your bruised and battered, but highly satisfied body into bed.” He frowned a second, on reflection of what he’d just said, and clarified. “I mean, drag your limp and busted body back here and toss you onto the lounger where you sleep, far away from me and be in no way gentle or caring about doing it.”
“That sounds like a solid plan, Harris. What are you waiting for?” Spike stood and searched the small basement for his duster. Finding it draped over one of the kitchen chairs, he crossed over and slid it over his shoulders.
When Xander heard the satisfied sigh following the settling whisper of leather, he grinned and rose from the sofa. “Let me get my shoes on, grab some cash, and we’ll be outta here.”
“Make it snappy. Been feelin’ cooped up in this hole and this idea of yours is sounding better every second.” Spike cracked his knuckles and flicked a loose bit of polish off his nails. Then he dug in his coat pocket for a smoke and lit it up, uncaring about Xander’s ‘no smoking in the basemen’ rule.
Xander chuckled a the flick of the Zippo, and glanced in Spike’s direction as he settled his own coat over his shoulder. His breath stopped.
Spike leaned against the stairs, head tilted back, taking a hit off the cigarette. His lips pursed and he blew the smoke out, eyes closed, shoulders loose. Xander watched Spike’s pink tongue sneak out, probably tasting the remnants of blood and tobacco on equally pink lips. How the hell do vampires have such pink lips? was the asinine thought that ran through his mind. Focused on those lips, he watched them as Spike lowered his head and slowly opened his eyes.
“You ready?”
“Ah,” Xander hefted a breath, “ahem, yeah. Just, let me...” He picked up his wallet, checked the cash in it, and rose an eyebrow at missing a ten spot. “...get my wallet.” He glanced up at Spike’s not so innocent face and shook his head. “After you, Spike.”
The Bronze was dead, but they managed to find a couple of arrogant and really stupid frat boys playing pool. Xander stood back, sipping on his free beer - the frat brats had lost the first game and the bet had been a round of drinks - watching Spike clean the boys out. He was in his element really.
Duster long since shrugged off, cigarette hanging from his lips as he talked smack and aimed and shot. Then he’d swagger around the table, hand Xander the cigarette, take aim again, and wink at his opponents. That almost flirty smile would make an appearance, and Xander had already had to intervene twice, keeping No-neck McCleanshaven from busting Spike’s nose. The scripted, “Ignore the grin, he’s not comin’ onto ya, big guy,” was getting old.
“Spike?” he called out, after once again stalling the fight that Spike couldn’t win.
“Yeah, pet?” Spike was taking aim at the eight ball, when he looked up at Xander, blue eyes flashing unmitigated glee at cleaning out the two bozos.
“Finish these two off. I’m ready to head over to Willy’s.”
“Right.” He grinned, took his shot, and Xander cringed at the amount of blustering that came from No-neck and his buddy when the little black ball sank out of sight. Spike just stood up, laid his cue on the table and said, “I do believe that was double or nothing, gents, and I also believe I just cleaned you out. Now, be good little losers and hand over the dosh, or my friend there’ll be very unhappy.”
“Spike! What the hell are you doing?”
“Just givin’ the blokes a little incentive to pay up, Xander.” Spike clapped him on the back.
“Well could you not and say you did?” Xander looked over a the other guys, who now both looked to be reconsidering paying their debts. Xander swallowed thickly.
“If the little man here is all we’ve got to worry about, then no, I don’t think we’ll be letting go of our money.” No-neck stated.
“Oh no.” Xander squeaked. “I really don’t think that’s such a good idea.” He glanced to his side, saying, “Spike, tell them it’s not such a good idea to not pay up.” Spike wasn’t there. “Um, Spike?”
“Right here, pet.” Spike spoke from behind the two college guys, and when they turned to face him, he slipped into his demon face and growled. “I think, gents, you’d best rethink that little idea ‘bout not payin’. What d’ya say?”
“Right!”
“No problem, man!”
“You won, fair and square!” No-neck snatched his wallet from his pants pocket and emptied it onto the table. Then both boys scrambled over each other to get away from Spike and Xander.
Xander eyed the cash as Spike laughed at the patheticness of American college boys. “Pansies,” he chuckled.
“Spike? How much did you bet those guys, with the double or nothing?”
“Ahh, should be ‘bout seventy-five dollars there, Xan. Why?”
Xander lifted the wad of cash. “Cuz you just scared almost five hundred bucks from those two, my fiendish not-quite-friend!”
“Huh.” Spike spared an uncaring glance for the cash, then looked around for his duster. “Well, suppose that’ll keep you in pizza and me in blood for a while, eh? What say we head off. Willy’s is waitin’.”
“Oh, this is gonna be good.” Xander pocketed the cash, and followed Spike out the door. “You’re so gonna kick some ass, aren’t you?”
Spike glanced back at him and grinned.