El Cuento del Bucanero y del Vampiro 18/?
Title: El Cuento del Bucanero y del Vampiro
Authors: whichclothes and emelye_miller
Chapter: 18/?
Pairing: Spike/Xander (eventually)
Rating: This chapter, R, for language.
Disclaimer: We're not Joss
Warnings: None so far.
Summary: Events begin post-Chosen, midway through AtS S5. Comics are ignored. Image by the incredible sentine.
Previous parts here.
El Cuento del Bucanero y del Vampiro
Eighteen And I Like It
Xander sat on the side of the hill overlooking the hotel property, not especially deep in thought, mostly, just grateful for the quiet.
After some discussion on possible avenues of attack, they decided the first order of business ought to be removing the geas on La Paloma. To that end, Spike was going to track down the nearest bruja, according to the gossip from Paloma’s mother, while Xander attempted to maintain their cover and keep a close eye on El Jefe.
The situation back at the hotel, however, had changed. His room had been reassigned while he was away, his things moved to a larger suite. Men and women were crowded into the lobby looking to get a piece of him. La Paloma was keeping his distance, which was smart, but intimidating for Xander who had to rely on his own wits to navigate the groping and the stealth-which was considerably less stealthy with the throng of gropers at his heels.
El Jefe was holding court poolside. He gave Xander a knowing smile when he saw him approaching and waved him over. “El Bucanero! Mi hijo! Come join me, won’t you?”
Xander glared in the direction of his groupies and reluctantly took a seat at the table.
“You’re fighting El Coyote del Futuro tonight.”
Xander gave him a hard look. “To the death?”
“Sí. Naturalmente.”
“Why? Why are you doing this to me?” Xander demanded.
El Jefe chuckled and stamped out his cigar. “Because you need to learn. I took you on because Orozco vouched for you, but I won’t have my luchadores fighting like dogs over a bone. You are here for one reason only-to fight-and that only because I wish it. There is nothing else. You will fight El Coyote tonight and you will learn your place.”
He never did find out where his new room was. He wanted out of the hotel, out of the job, out of the whole damn country. Xander tossed a rock down the hillside, pulled out his phone and dialed Spike.
“How’s the search coming?” he asked.
“Bloody slow, what with it still being day an’ all. The old woman’s gone asking round her sister’s place north of here. Should know something in a few hours.”
“Problem-I’m fighting in two hours.”
“Fuck.”
“Bout sums it up. Any other brilliant ideas?”
“Yeah, hang on-hey!” There was static and a scuffling sound from Spike’s end.
“Spike?” There was no answer. “Spike?”
A distinctive click sounded behind his left ear. Xander jumped and dropped the phone as he felt the gun barrel pressed to the back of his head.
“Turn around slowly.” Xander knew that voice. How did he know that voice?
Xander turned around. He did a double take. “Wait-Wesley? Watcher Wesley?”
The gun didn’t waver. Wesley nodded his acknowledgement. “He’s here, Angel.”
Angel came up the hill behind Wesley. “Thanks Wes,” he said, without removing his eyes from Xander.
He was starting to get the impression that something had gone very, very wrong. “What’s going on?” he asked.
With no more warning, Angel surged forward and hauled Xander up by the neck, choking him. “How did you do it? Did you fight? Did he have a chance, or did you stab him in the back, you little shit? How did it happen?”
Xander couldn’t answer with his windpipe being crushed.
“Angel, I don’t think he can breathe to speak like that,” Wesley observed calmly. Angel released his hold and dropped him to the ground.
Xander gasped for air. “What the fuck are you talking about?” He panted, rubbing at his neck.
“I haven’t been in contact with Spike since he told me you were here. Then I get a call last night from his liaison saying you killed him.” Angel leaned over him menacingly. “Spike said you were working for the council. Was it a hit job? Was it personal?”
Xander stared incredulously at Angel. “He’s not dead! We staged his death in the ring last night because we’re undercover, you asshole! Now would you get the fuck out of here?”
“Where is he?”
Covered in sand and dust, Xander struggled to his feet. “In hiding and following a lead.”
“I want to see him.”
Xander threw up his hands. “Great! Me too.” Xander bent down and picked his phone up off the ground and started walking back toward the hotel. “You have a car?”
Wesley answered. “A jeep. Parked about a mile up the road.”
Xander kept walking. “I’ll meet you there.” A second later he was being dangled by his throat again.
“How do I know you’re telling the truth,” Angel demanded. Xander didn’t waste time in pulling the stake from his pocket and digging it into Angel’s chest.
He dropped to the ground and kicked out, catching Angel in the knee. Angel went down with a sharp cry. The gun came back out. “Do you have another option, you paranoid Neanderthal?”
“Why don’t we escort you,” Wesley suggested.
“You can’t, you’ll blow my cover,” Xander explained.
“Well that’s too bad for you, isn’t it?” Angel smirked.
Xander nearly pulled out his hair. “You’ve got some fucking balls! Is this mission worth getting Spike and I killed or not? After everything we’ve been through to do your dirty work, which by the way, is nothing but a big Wolfram & Hart fuckup, you’re going to throw it away because you suddenly decide you give a shit about Spike? FUCK YOU!”
Five minutes later, Xander strode boldly into the lobby with a man on each arm. Angel was stiff and silent, but Wesley was surprisingly convincing as a simpering trick. Fortunately, Manuel was in the lobby, going over the schedule with several of the other luchadores. “Hey, Manuel,” he called. “I’ll find my own ride to the ring tonight, okay?” He tried a leer on for size, drawing on his memory of his last encounter with Pantalones Famosos. It must have been convincing. Manuel waved him off with a laugh. Xander pinched Angel’s ass as they walked out the door.
There was a black SUV in the driveway of Paloma’s house. Mentally, Xander calculated the odds they were interrupting a kidnapping for ransom by Columbians or being shadowed by Mulder and Scully.
Then he saw the hula girl on the dashboard and the fuzzy dice on the mirror. The vanity plates read SLYR 1.
Xander had really been hoping for Gillian Anderson.
Spike was sporting a black eye and glaring at Buffy and Dawn seated across the living room when they entered.
Angel froze in the doorway. Wesley stood cautiously beside him.
“Xander! Spike’s not the First!” Dawn stood and gestured excitedly to Spike.
“He’s not? Gosh, I guess that would explain the hot, corporeal man sex.” Xander pushed past Angel and sat beside Spike, checking out the shiner Buffy’d landed on him. Spike swatted his hand away.
“Spike turns up alive in Mexico and he’s nice to you? It didn’t exactly take Andrew’s panic attack to make that leap,” Buffy pointed out.
“Sex?” Angel asked stupidly. They ignored him.
“I found him in the ring kicking my ass. I figured it was safe to assume he was telling the truth.”
“And what’s the deal with telling Willow you’re not coming home?” Dawn asked.
Xander sighed. Beside him Spike stiffened and Xander took his hand. “Look, I was really mad at Giles for sending me to Africa by myself. But even though I wasn’t so much pushed out of the nest as drop-kicked into a war-zone, I eventually figured out that I could handle things just fine on my own. Dawn, you and Buffy and Willow and Giles are my family and I love you. But, I’m a grown man. I can’t be an errand boy for the rest of my life.”
“Okay, so no more errand boy!” Dawn pleaded. “I get that, but why do you have to leave us?”
Buffy he noticed wasn’t chiming into the discussion, but was looking thoughtfully between him and Spike.
“I don’t want to leave you guys. But I’ve gone on exactly one mission by myself since coming back to the States, and after two weeks you guys decided you needed to drive to Tijuana to rescue me. I want to stay with the council, but your confidence in me isn’t exactly overwhelming.”
“Xander’s right,” Buffy said quietly. “You’re right,” she added, coming over to sit beside him. “We haven’t been fair to you. But you’re wrong about one thing. You can’t do this alone. None of us can. Willow and I hold on too tight sometimes, but it’s not because we don’t trust you. We just don’t know what we’d do without you,” she said.
Xander pulled her into a crushing hug. A few tears escaped into her hair.
“He won’t be alone, Buffy,” Spike said softly.
Buffy pulled back and smiled soggily before leaning over and taking Spike’s hand. “I know.”
Dawn, obviously feeling left out, took her opportunity to throw her arms around Spike’s neck. He smiled at Xander over her shoulder, then his eyes traveled down to the purpling bruises around his neck. Spike gently pried Dawn off of him, eyes yellow and feral.
“Xander,” he growled. “Who touched you?”
Authors: whichclothes and emelye_miller
Chapter: 18/?
Pairing: Spike/Xander (eventually)
Rating: This chapter, R, for language.
Disclaimer: We're not Joss
Warnings: None so far.
Summary: Events begin post-Chosen, midway through AtS S5. Comics are ignored. Image by the incredible sentine.
Previous parts here.
El Cuento del Bucanero y del Vampiro
Eighteen And I Like It
Xander sat on the side of the hill overlooking the hotel property, not especially deep in thought, mostly, just grateful for the quiet.
After some discussion on possible avenues of attack, they decided the first order of business ought to be removing the geas on La Paloma. To that end, Spike was going to track down the nearest bruja, according to the gossip from Paloma’s mother, while Xander attempted to maintain their cover and keep a close eye on El Jefe.
The situation back at the hotel, however, had changed. His room had been reassigned while he was away, his things moved to a larger suite. Men and women were crowded into the lobby looking to get a piece of him. La Paloma was keeping his distance, which was smart, but intimidating for Xander who had to rely on his own wits to navigate the groping and the stealth-which was considerably less stealthy with the throng of gropers at his heels.
El Jefe was holding court poolside. He gave Xander a knowing smile when he saw him approaching and waved him over. “El Bucanero! Mi hijo! Come join me, won’t you?”
Xander glared in the direction of his groupies and reluctantly took a seat at the table.
“You’re fighting El Coyote del Futuro tonight.”
Xander gave him a hard look. “To the death?”
“Sí. Naturalmente.”
“Why? Why are you doing this to me?” Xander demanded.
El Jefe chuckled and stamped out his cigar. “Because you need to learn. I took you on because Orozco vouched for you, but I won’t have my luchadores fighting like dogs over a bone. You are here for one reason only-to fight-and that only because I wish it. There is nothing else. You will fight El Coyote tonight and you will learn your place.”
He never did find out where his new room was. He wanted out of the hotel, out of the job, out of the whole damn country. Xander tossed a rock down the hillside, pulled out his phone and dialed Spike.
“How’s the search coming?” he asked.
“Bloody slow, what with it still being day an’ all. The old woman’s gone asking round her sister’s place north of here. Should know something in a few hours.”
“Problem-I’m fighting in two hours.”
“Fuck.”
“Bout sums it up. Any other brilliant ideas?”
“Yeah, hang on-hey!” There was static and a scuffling sound from Spike’s end.
“Spike?” There was no answer. “Spike?”
A distinctive click sounded behind his left ear. Xander jumped and dropped the phone as he felt the gun barrel pressed to the back of his head.
“Turn around slowly.” Xander knew that voice. How did he know that voice?
Xander turned around. He did a double take. “Wait-Wesley? Watcher Wesley?”
The gun didn’t waver. Wesley nodded his acknowledgement. “He’s here, Angel.”
Angel came up the hill behind Wesley. “Thanks Wes,” he said, without removing his eyes from Xander.
He was starting to get the impression that something had gone very, very wrong. “What’s going on?” he asked.
With no more warning, Angel surged forward and hauled Xander up by the neck, choking him. “How did you do it? Did you fight? Did he have a chance, or did you stab him in the back, you little shit? How did it happen?”
Xander couldn’t answer with his windpipe being crushed.
“Angel, I don’t think he can breathe to speak like that,” Wesley observed calmly. Angel released his hold and dropped him to the ground.
Xander gasped for air. “What the fuck are you talking about?” He panted, rubbing at his neck.
“I haven’t been in contact with Spike since he told me you were here. Then I get a call last night from his liaison saying you killed him.” Angel leaned over him menacingly. “Spike said you were working for the council. Was it a hit job? Was it personal?”
Xander stared incredulously at Angel. “He’s not dead! We staged his death in the ring last night because we’re undercover, you asshole! Now would you get the fuck out of here?”
“Where is he?”
Covered in sand and dust, Xander struggled to his feet. “In hiding and following a lead.”
“I want to see him.”
Xander threw up his hands. “Great! Me too.” Xander bent down and picked his phone up off the ground and started walking back toward the hotel. “You have a car?”
Wesley answered. “A jeep. Parked about a mile up the road.”
Xander kept walking. “I’ll meet you there.” A second later he was being dangled by his throat again.
“How do I know you’re telling the truth,” Angel demanded. Xander didn’t waste time in pulling the stake from his pocket and digging it into Angel’s chest.
He dropped to the ground and kicked out, catching Angel in the knee. Angel went down with a sharp cry. The gun came back out. “Do you have another option, you paranoid Neanderthal?”
“Why don’t we escort you,” Wesley suggested.
“You can’t, you’ll blow my cover,” Xander explained.
“Well that’s too bad for you, isn’t it?” Angel smirked.
Xander nearly pulled out his hair. “You’ve got some fucking balls! Is this mission worth getting Spike and I killed or not? After everything we’ve been through to do your dirty work, which by the way, is nothing but a big Wolfram & Hart fuckup, you’re going to throw it away because you suddenly decide you give a shit about Spike? FUCK YOU!”
Five minutes later, Xander strode boldly into the lobby with a man on each arm. Angel was stiff and silent, but Wesley was surprisingly convincing as a simpering trick. Fortunately, Manuel was in the lobby, going over the schedule with several of the other luchadores. “Hey, Manuel,” he called. “I’ll find my own ride to the ring tonight, okay?” He tried a leer on for size, drawing on his memory of his last encounter with Pantalones Famosos. It must have been convincing. Manuel waved him off with a laugh. Xander pinched Angel’s ass as they walked out the door.
There was a black SUV in the driveway of Paloma’s house. Mentally, Xander calculated the odds they were interrupting a kidnapping for ransom by Columbians or being shadowed by Mulder and Scully.
Then he saw the hula girl on the dashboard and the fuzzy dice on the mirror. The vanity plates read SLYR 1.
Xander had really been hoping for Gillian Anderson.
Spike was sporting a black eye and glaring at Buffy and Dawn seated across the living room when they entered.
Angel froze in the doorway. Wesley stood cautiously beside him.
“Xander! Spike’s not the First!” Dawn stood and gestured excitedly to Spike.
“He’s not? Gosh, I guess that would explain the hot, corporeal man sex.” Xander pushed past Angel and sat beside Spike, checking out the shiner Buffy’d landed on him. Spike swatted his hand away.
“Spike turns up alive in Mexico and he’s nice to you? It didn’t exactly take Andrew’s panic attack to make that leap,” Buffy pointed out.
“Sex?” Angel asked stupidly. They ignored him.
“I found him in the ring kicking my ass. I figured it was safe to assume he was telling the truth.”
“And what’s the deal with telling Willow you’re not coming home?” Dawn asked.
Xander sighed. Beside him Spike stiffened and Xander took his hand. “Look, I was really mad at Giles for sending me to Africa by myself. But even though I wasn’t so much pushed out of the nest as drop-kicked into a war-zone, I eventually figured out that I could handle things just fine on my own. Dawn, you and Buffy and Willow and Giles are my family and I love you. But, I’m a grown man. I can’t be an errand boy for the rest of my life.”
“Okay, so no more errand boy!” Dawn pleaded. “I get that, but why do you have to leave us?”
Buffy he noticed wasn’t chiming into the discussion, but was looking thoughtfully between him and Spike.
“I don’t want to leave you guys. But I’ve gone on exactly one mission by myself since coming back to the States, and after two weeks you guys decided you needed to drive to Tijuana to rescue me. I want to stay with the council, but your confidence in me isn’t exactly overwhelming.”
“Xander’s right,” Buffy said quietly. “You’re right,” she added, coming over to sit beside him. “We haven’t been fair to you. But you’re wrong about one thing. You can’t do this alone. None of us can. Willow and I hold on too tight sometimes, but it’s not because we don’t trust you. We just don’t know what we’d do without you,” she said.
Xander pulled her into a crushing hug. A few tears escaped into her hair.
“He won’t be alone, Buffy,” Spike said softly.
Buffy pulled back and smiled soggily before leaning over and taking Spike’s hand. “I know.”
Dawn, obviously feeling left out, took her opportunity to throw her arms around Spike’s neck. He smiled at Xander over her shoulder, then his eyes traveled down to the purpling bruises around his neck. Spike gently pried Dawn off of him, eyes yellow and feral.
“Xander,” he growled. “Who touched you?”