Fic: Courtship Rituals Pt. 6
Fandoms: Buffyverse and NCIS
Pairing Spike/Xander, Tony/Gibbs
Rating: Teen+ (dirty words, sexual situations)
Warnings: Potty mouth
Notes: Written for the Fall of S/X, not so beta'd. While it's a crossover, knowledge of NCIS isn't necessary to enjoy the fic.
Go back to Coursthip Rituals Pt. 1
Go to Courtship Rituals Index
Courtship Rituals Pt. 6
Spike towed him through the front doors, around the corner, and down the building toward the back, where he stopped and took up his most arrogant, Big Bad's gonna kick some bootie stance.
"Seventeen," Riley said, emerging from the shadows around the back door of the demon bar.
"Nazi," Spike said, sneering.
Xander peered around the alley. It was more a Law and Order type back alley than the Bronze back alley, what with slimey brick walls colored oxidation orange on all sides but two and stinky dumpsters overflowing with disgusting kitchen things, probably even disgustinger than that because, hey, demon bar. "Hey, Riley."
"Hi, Xander."
Spike tilted his head a bit. "Now the pleasantries are over, why are you lot following me?"
"Not following, finding. We want you to back off of Wilder."
"Not bloody likely."
"You have to, Se-Spike. Wilder is," Riley's hands twitched up and open, "he's important."
Xander could sense the pre-fight snark about to tear its way out of Spike and stepped bravely into the breach, whatever that was. "Okay, let's all calm down. No ripping off of heads and calling people by numbers like they're a part of a socket set."
Spike bared fangs at Riley for a moment, but subsided. For now, no doubt.
Riley didn't look happy.
"Okay. Good." Xander tried a smile on for size, but it didn't seem to fit either his face or the circumstances. "Now, Riley, why do we want to leave that guy in jail? Seems like a bad plan to me."
Riley grimaced. "He did break the law." Riley glared at Spike. "And soul or no soul, we can't allow murder."
Spike huffed in a breath.
Xander stepped forward, putting himself a little more between the two. "Leaving a guy like that where the Initiative can get their hands on him if they ever wanted to start up with the evil incorporated again is not the way to go."
Riley frowned. "We're keeping an eye on him."
"'Spect it's like leaving the pimp to guard the prostitute," Spike said.
Xander pursed his lips and tried to look all authority figure and Giles-y---who was way better than Picard---with a dash of Kirk. "I wouldn’t put it like that, but I'm going to have to go with Spike on this one." Actually, considering the whole Ripper deal, Giles was like a Picardian Kirk. Or Kirkian Picard?
Riley actually looked a little bit hurt by that. "We're not like that anymore. We do good things now. We only slay the demons that are up to no good. We check before we slay."
Spike snorted. "You may. You've got no real authority. Them that hold your leash…." Spike shrugged and pulled out a cigarette.
Xander's head bobbed. "He's pretty much right, Riley. You and your squad are really good guys and General Mitchell is a great guy, even if he wouldn't let me wear those cool pants that matched my shirt when we went golfing, but, well, we've got people like the Navy's secretary getting their panties in a twist over this guy and I don't like it."
Riley frowned. "Why is Secnav interested?"
"Well, that Gibbs guy you talked to went and blabbed to him and now we've got a meeting or something. Speaking of meetings and Secnavs, Spike, you should so not go."
"Son of a bitch." Riley did everything but stomp his foot. "I told him to drop it!"
"Well, he kinda didn't. They're pretty smart down there at NCIS. I bet Gibbs would make a pretty good Watcher."
Both Riley and Spike glared at him. He grinned back, feeling rather pleased at the totally unexpected getting-along of Riley and Spike. Even though it wouldn't last long at all.
"So, murder is a bad thing," Xander mused.
Spike frowned in a really cute, confused way. Riley frowned in a don't go there way. "Yes, Xander," Riley said with extreme patience. "Murder is a bad thing. It's such a bad thing that you, personally, took great pains to point out how bad murder was to me in great detail over the course of several excruciatingly long weeks."
"No, I was just thinking. Sometimes murder isn't really murder."
"Didn't know your morals were slippery, pet." Spike did not sound happy about that.
"Not slippery at all. No slippery morals for the Xan-man. Not even a hint of slipperiness on my morals. But killing a fledge or a fyarl isn't murder, is it? Bracchen, yeah, polgara, not so much. The jury is still out on the t'kla."
Spike grinned. "Brilliant."
Riley's frown went from don't go there to confused, only not very cute. "What?"
Spike turned the grin on Riley. "We know something you don't."
"About Wilder," Xander added.
Riley looked away for a moment, then squared his shoulders. "I know he was brought back from the dead."
"Uh, that would be a no. Ethan's sense of self-preservation has been honed to near perfection, for a somewhat bad guy." Xander stuff his hands in his pockets to stop from rubbing them together in joy. "The thing in jail is a homunculus."
"An homunculus, pet. Silent h."
Xander shrugged. "Po-tay-to, po-tah-to, Alex Trebek. Huh, uh, different sounds, same magical construct."
"Secnav knows this. It's why he's involved, isn't it?"
"Pretty much, yeah. Anyway, it's not human, it's not good, and we were really only going to leave it in custody long enough for it to have reasonably staged an escape. Well not so much with the escaping as with the getting rid of it and making the navy cops think it was all with the escaping instead of the being gotten rid of."
"Not the real thing, what put the chip in my head," Spike said, "but close enough." Spike sighed, long and lusty. "Shoulda just let the lawyers get it out so I could kill it."
"And again with the government would so know about what you're up to."
The look Willow used to give him when they were on the playground in elementary school and he used to tell her that he really did accidentally slip and fall on the sidewalks when the girls in skirts were going to walk by, Spike was giving him that look. "Of course you're right, pet, the government hasn't a clue about me. 'M not standing in front of Captain Cardboard. 'M not meeting navy cops and the man what runs the American navy. 'M nice and safely tucked away in your attic in my nappies."
"Yeah, well, okay but that was different. We thought he was still human and that would not have been okay."
Riley sighed. "Look, all I want to know is if you're planning on killing it or not, Se-Spike."
"Would like to, but not as such, no."
"Good. Fine. We've got this understanding with Angel. He doesn't kill people and we don't try to kill him. We actually wouldn't because Giles has that covered, but at least he doesn't have to look over his shoulder. Willow assures us that you're," Riley grimaced, "that you have a soul. We'll extend the same courtesy to you."
Spike sneered and flipped Riley the British bird.
"I'll go tell my superiors about the homunculus, but we're attached to the Corps. Secnav is the top of our food chain."
Xander frowned. "How long has this guy been in charge?"
Riley pressed his lips together and took a deep breath. "Long enough that he could have been a part of the brass that set up Sunnydale Initiative."
Xander nodded. "I see."
Spike shook his head, eyes turning a bit yellow. "If this git is thinking to start up his demon clockworks again, I will kill him."
Riley nodded, all sincere serious face. "And if he is, I won't notice when you do."
"Let's go, pet." Spike turned around and left without looking back at Riley, or even Xander for that matter.
Xander frowned at the swirly duster for a moment. Then he turned to Riley. "It's been good to see you, Riley. You be careful out there, okay?"
"Yeah, okay. Um, say hi to Buffy for me, will you?"
Xander didn't even pretend to smile. "Yeah, will do." Totally not.
He had to jog to catch up to Spike, who had hung a left at the sidewalk and kept right on going. Once he did catch up, he had to take really long steps to keep up. It was kind of exhausting. After the fifteenth block, it was really exhausting. By the time they hit the hotel, Xander was sweaty and tired. Not that he'd had any plans for any action, maybe some smoochage, but his only action plan now was hopefully shower before bed. Spike, thank everything holy, decided on the elevator.
"You know," Xander said between uncaught breaths, "I'm used to some heavy exercise, but keeping up with a vamp is hard on humans when there's any real distance involved. Just a reminder."
Spike flared his nostrils, but said nothing. Odd.
Spike didn't take it much slower to the room. Xander followed a bit more slowly, but not slowly enough to not catch the door when Spike didn't hold it for him. Xander stood in the little hallway thing between the door and the room, confused. Spike tossed his duster onto one of the beds and flopped into his throne-chair. He pulled a cigarette out, lit it, and shotgunned it. He pulled another, lit it, and let it burn in the casually careless droop of his hand.
"Spike?"
Spike's eyes flicked toward him and then back to the middle distance, or the wall, whichever one he was staring at with studious uncaringness.
Xander stepped further into the room. "Uh, what's going on?"
Spike took a drag, then said. "Middle of my day."
Xander frowned. "Mine, too, actually. Why the hot and cold running vamp routine?"
Spike looked at him then, right in the eyes. Eye. The weight of their shared history itched suddenly in the empty socket. Something really soft, and then painful flashed across Spike's face, and then was gone. Spike looked more like one of Drusilla's dolls than the dolls did. "Done all we need to, whelp."
"What?"
Spike took another drag and blew it out slowly. "Know what's happening with the doc now, don't I? Not much to do about it. You call me when you lot decide to break it out of jail. I've an interest in getting rid of it."
Xander's frowny face frowned more. "Uh, this sounds an awful lot like a brush off."
Spike shrugged. "You have your meet with the plodders and navy man. I've a flight out to LA after sunset."
Xander's fingers went up to the collar he still wore. "But…"
Spike smirked. "Impressed the locals, yeah? Keep it. Souvenir."
"I, I see."
"Good that you do, pet." The smirk deepened. "Give Buffy m' love."
Xander turned it over in his head a few times, waiting for the ah-ha lightbulb moment that would take away the lump in his throat. Or waiting for Spike to laugh it off like it was a joke. Spike just stared into the middle distance, didn't even turn on the TV. Sat there, looking all relaxed.
Looking relaxed. Xander took off the collar, held it in his hands. The tag glinted a bit. A stupid dog bone that Spike had picked out because it reminded him of Xander's eyes. Eyes, not eye. Xander tossed the collar on the bed. "I won't need it. I have a better souvenir."
Spike's face twitched a bit, but he didn't move.
Xander ran a finger over the cheek beneath his one eye. "I have this because of you."
Spike sneered. It looked totally fake. "Did it for the slayer."
Xander smiled. "No you didn't, you big faker. You did it because you're Spike."
The sneer deepened. "So this," Spike waved a hand, "was all about gratitude. Throw old Spike a bone because he can't pull the slayer? Is that it?"
Wow, that sounded really wounded. "You know why demons call me the One Who Sees?"
Spike shrugged again. Oh no, Mr. Smooth Vamp. Xander had his number now.
"I don't see the future, but when I pull my head out of my ass, I do a really good job of seeing the truth. And you know what? The truth doesn't always hurt, even when we're afraid of it. Know what happens when a Big Bad feels fear? He attacks."
The fangs flashed out. "I'm not afraid of you, boy."
Xander smiled. "Nope. You're not. I don't know what scares you, but I doubt it's anything living or dead."
Spike sneered again, the vamplies slipping away.
"You didn't pull a slayer, but they're a dime a dozen these days. You pulled me." Xander felt himself fully relax. This was right. "And I'm special. I'm so special, I deserve you."
Spike sniffed. "Right. What sort of prize do you take me for? A bauble you can dangle from your arm as you see fit?"
"Huh?"
"It's all dancing, kittens, and fledge killing with me, until it's time for the serious business. Then it's Spike can't come like some tarted up housewife."
"Again I say, huh?"
Spike glared at him. "The meeting."
Xander blinked. The meeting? Oh. "Oh. That. I kinda thought you'd want to skip hanging out with the top military guy."
Spike glared all that much harder. "I am not a fainting flower."
"Nope. You are so not. Not floweryish at all. More like cattish. A big, dangerous cat with long teeth and claws and danger."
"Don't need to put me in short pants and pat me on the head in front of the toy soldier."
Xander thought about that comment he'd made, kind of tossed off in conversation. He didn't remember the exact words he'd used, but they were like the suggestions he made to slayers all of the time, ones that were tactical or put the slayer's welfare above the problem of the day. He could totally see how Spike wouldn't appreciate that. He sat down on the bed, kind of impressed he'd stayed standing that long. "I'm sorry, Spike. I take care of the people I really care about. Since they're all either slayers, super witches, or Giles, it's a habit to kind of give orders."
"'M a vampire. You're a human. It's a habit that I either eat you or give you orders. Did I give you a single order today?"
"A few."
Spike scowled.
"You towed me around by the collar. You, um, huh. Well, okay, that was pretty much it."
"Asked you. I didn't order you."
Xander felt like a world class jerk. "I'm sorry Spike."
"If you can't respect me, you can't have me."
"I'll try my best not to do it again."
Spike stared at him for a few minutes, long enough that Xander had to fight off the urge to squirm. Then Spike smiled. For reals. Xander smiled back.
"So, uh, the date part of the evening's festivities," Xander said. "Uh, was it, well, you know, uh---"
"It was good, Xander. After the do in LA, we'll go see this tribute band of yours. Talk about how things'll go on, yeah?"
"Yeah." Xander's inner Scooby-Doo was doing the Snoopy dance. "I guess I better call the airport and see if they can get a ticket for me on your plane."
"Don't bother. Private jet. It'll go when we want." Spike sighed. "Evil lawyers are good for something."
"So, we could leave now."
"Could. Just wake the pilot and give him a time."
"Why don't we do that? We can leave a note for the navy cops and just go. Not unless you want to have that meeting."
Spike shifted in the chair. "Best have it, pet. Tchort is right. Can't leave the dolly where the Initiative can use it, now they know it's not a human. Wouldn't take much for them to make their pet mage make a few more."
Xander shuddered. "No, no it wouldn't. Of course, no one says we have to have the meeting at ten. It's kind of rude to have a meeting in the middle of the night, right?"
"Could just go back down to the jail and kill it. Got a spell to get around security cameras. Not as satisfying as a spot of torture, but getting it done quickly would work."
Xander nodded at that. "How hard was it to get in the first time? I imagine they've beefed up patrols and stuff."
Spike frowned. "Probably. I'm not interested in getting shot full of holes before LA."
"I can call them."
"No, let's make the meeting. See if the Secnav bloke does put in the appearance you think he will."
Xander grimaced. "Yeah, okay. Not thrilled about being around a military power guy, though. I should have brought my axe."
Spike leered in a kind of over exaggerated manner. "Sexy, pet."
***
Tony shifted, and sniffled somewhere to the left. Gibbs opened his eyes and blinked, squeezing his lids together to bring the bland wallpaper across the room into focus. It was tilted. He was the tilted one, not the wall. His cheek was pillowed on something hard that made his molars sore from resting on it. Tony's shoulder. Slowly, so he wouldn't wake the man, Gibbs sat up. He checked his weapon, found it undisturbed in its holster between them on the bed. He didn't shift in his sleep. He didn't move. Trained too hard to move when he dozed off.
"You're thinking too hard, boss," Tony muttered. "It's too early for that. Go back to sleep."
Tony should be having a fit.
"If you get any tenser, you're going to break something."
Gibbs ground his teeth.
Tony sat up and rubbed his head, turning the bedhead into a mess of cowlicks. "Geez, boss, it's not like I haven't slept in the same bed with McGee, Kate or Ziva."
Gibbs glared at him. "Rule 12, Tony."
Tony twisted and narrowed his eyes. "Tony?"
Gibbs upped the glare intensity.
"I said slept in the same bed, not had sex."
"Go back to sleep, DiNozzo."
Tony flopped back down. "Just remember, you cuddled me first."
"So file a sexual harassment suit tomorrow. Go to sleep now."
Tony smiled, his teeth gleaming in the spare light from the bathroom. "Nope. No lawsuits. Maybe some bragging, though. Not even Abby has had full body Gibbs cuddles. Just me."
Gibbs frowned. "DiNozzo…."
Tony shrugged and yawned. "S'okay boss. Won't tell. Your cuddly secret is safe with me. Cuddle more if you wanna. You give good cuddle."
Gibbs watched Tony's eyes flicker shut and his lips part just enough to breathe through. Tony's muscles slowly relaxed, either deliberately or as a natural consequence of drifting off to sleep. Without really thinking about it, Gibbs slid his weapon under the pillow, within easy reach. He put his head down on the pillow and watched Tony sleep until it was hard to keep his own eyes open. Before he gave all the way into it and went to sleep, he rolled toward Tony, fitting their bodies together. He shifted a moment, until they were nestled. Tomorrow, he could regret this. Blame it on exhaustion or vampires. Now, he'd soak in the heat that he'd never feel again.
"Hey, Boss," Tony whispered.
"Go to sleep."
"Rule 12."
Gibbs felt his breathing even out a bit more. "Boss, not coworker."
"But---"
"Not in the Corps. 134 doesn't apply." Gibbs prodded the stomach beneath his hand. "Sleep."
"But NCIS has regu---"
"Make my own rules. Now go to sleep."
Tony didn't say anything else. Instead, he twisted, catlike, under the half hold Gibbs had him in. Gibbs barely had his eyes open before Tony kissed him. Not long, but long enough.
Gibbs relaxed the muscles he didn't know he'd tensed up and just went with it.
Tony pulled away, settled back into the bed, and smiled. "Night, Gibbs."
Gibbs huffed a breath, then decided to just get some rest.
***
It was nearly morning. Xander didn't have to use a clock to figure that out, he could watch the dawn arrive with the shift in Spike's aliveness. Even in the middle of the day, Spike was the most alive person Xander had ever known; but in the face of the dawn, something in Spike slowed and hushed itself. It was almost like Ripley or Hicks settling into the stasis bed for the coma-like snooze on the trip back to Earth. Even if he was sleeping or fighting, Spike would have this deadness to him until the sun poked up over the horizon, and then he'd shake it off and go back to whatever he was doing. In this case, smoking a cigarette.
"Think you're right, pet," Spike said softly from his throne-chair, once the sun had crested. "We should leave. Call the wanker up."
Xander, who had settled into the bed to drowse a little, opened his eyes. "When?"
"Half hour. Give me time to sort the pilot and a car."
"Oh, okay." Xander let his eyes drift back shut.
"No, pet. Set the meeting in half hour." Spike sounded amused.
Xander forced himself to sit up, and then tossed Spike a sour look. Vampires. Go figure. He scooched over to the phone on the night stand and picked it up. He figured that since the meeting was in 708, the wank---Gibbs would probably be in 709, if the t'kla's info was any good. He dialed 709 and hoped he didn't wake up some poor tourist.
"Gibbs."
"Hey, I got the right number, cool!"
There was a moment of silence. "Harris?"
"Yeah. We'll be down to your place in about 30 minutes for the meeting. We've got things to do, places to be, and all that."
"Meeting's at 10."
"And yet, there you are, not doing a whole lot. Sounds like a fine time meet to me."
"There are things to do first."
"What? Breakfast? We'll catch that on the way out. Like I said, things to do and places to be." Xander smiled. "Besides, you seem to be a busy guy. Evil's only holiday is Halloween. Though, since people don't know that, they probably only take off Christmas and birthdays."
"We can't meet in 30 minutes."
"Well, then we'll skip it. You can give me your email address or something if you want, but we'll just watch the news and see what happens. Okay? Okay, cool. Nice meeting you and your buddy, but we've gotta go."
"Wait!" Gibbs sounded like he wanted to smack someone.
"What?"
"The Secretary of the Navy is coming to the meeting."
Xander decided to play stupid. "The secretary? Geez, what has her panties in a bunch? Buy her a latte and send her shoe shopping."
"Harris."
Spike was wearing a proud sort of smirk.
Xander grinned at him. "Gibbs."
"Just meet us at 10."
"We're not interested in meeting Secnav."
"Why not?"
"Duh. Military? Kidnapping people and putting behavior modification chips in their heads? Not interested. Well, unless he's a demon. Is he a demon? I hear they're involved with the IRS and all that stuff. Which really explains tax forms because those things look like English but they're not written in English, it's more like those stupid prophecies you find in Latin in the really old books that look like Latin, but it's more like a keltoi's butt snot and just tells you that on this day in October of two thousand, there will be blue in the hair of the person nearest the statue of a man holding a pipe on a horse, and that always turns out to be some idiot standing in a water fountain in Picadilly for some reason."
Gibbs didn't say anything. Spike chuckled.
Xander said, "So, spit it out. What kind of demon is he? We wanna come prepared. You never know if you need to bring fresh heart of virgin or some pecans. We use squirrel."
"He's not a demon."
"Okay then, well. Email us."
"He's in charge of the Initiative."
"And?"
Gibbs sighed. "He's the one who decides what happens to the thing in jail. If you have any interest in that, then you'll come at 10."
"You know, Gibbs, world saving is nothing but long periods of fledge-staking and fyarl-stabbing boredom broken up by the moments of actual world saving. We're done with the fledge-staking part of the festivities. Time is your buddy, not ours."
Gibbs was silent for a moment---Xander got the feeling that negotiation really wasn't his thing---and then he said, "I'll call you back in 10 minutes."
"Fine."
Gibbs hung up before Xander could say anything else.
"Take it we're not meeting in thirty, pet?"
Xander shrugged. "Did get the confirm on Secnav. Secnav? It's kind of stupid and kind of works. We could change Giles from Head Librarian to Helib."
Spike arched an eyebrow. "Thought Rupert was Head of the Council?"
"Yeah, but we like head librarian better. Though, HeCon has a ring to it. It's very spandex."
"Bet Rupes likes that."
Xander grinned. "Of course not. Why would we call him something he prefers, which is Giles, by the way."
"'Cause it's polite."
"Like you do polite."
Spike looked all wet cat offended. "Can so! My mum brought me up proper."
"Well, I haven't seen mu---"
The phone rang, shutting him up. Xander reached for it, but Spike snatched it out of his hand and snarled, "What?"
Whatever whoever said had Spike wearing his bored face, the one that was dangerous because he was playing power games and power games usually ended in someone's head getting ripped off, and that someone was never Spike.
"Wanker." Spike sat on the bed, forcing Xander to scoot over with an indignant squawk.
Xander tried to scootch up and stick his ear to the side of the receiver so he could hear Gibbs, too, but Spike pushed him away.
"'s not polite to have meetings in the middle of a vamp's night." Yeah, trust Spike to rub the vampire in someone's face, especially if they were uncomfy with the thoughts of vampness.
After a moment of the tinny sound of someone's voice over the speaker, which Xander couldn't make out at all, Spike sighed elaborately. "Fine, then. 8 am. Bring 'im here. I'll have a bit of brekkie while we wait, yeah?"
Whatever Gibbs said had Spike's eyes turning yellow.
"Eat anyone I please, tosser. I don't take orders from you or any other hopped up bully boy."
More Spike unhappies, but the vampiness retreated.
"Piss off," Spike said, and then hung up.
"Well?"
"They'll bring the tosser here at 8, pet. I've a call to make; you'll have to play errand boy to fetch it. Shop's not too far. You'll be able to pick it up and yourself some brekkie on the way back."
"Fetch what?"
"Charm." Spike tapped in a phone number on a cell phone. "Hello, luv. 'S Spike."
Xander heaved himself up and got himself completely dressed, meaning he put on his shoes, while Spike flirted and charmed whoever he was talking to.
"I'll send my boy right down, luv. Slayer's Knight." Spike said. "Thank you, luv."
There was a moment of chatter and then Spike hung up. He ignored the pouting and sulking that Xander was doing with a lot of amusement and some affection. The whole hair ruffling like Xander was an extra furry Golden Retriever thing got a bit annoying, even though he had to admit it felt really, really good.
Xander took Spike's directions and grumbled about going to the magic shop of this mysterious "luv" for the ordered charm. He stuck his wallet in his pocket and snagged his keys. The collar was on the dresser next to them. He stuck his keys in a front pocket and snatched up the collar. Spike, who had been playing the big fat faker lounging around without moving and pretending he didn't care in his throne chair, stiffened up enough for Xander to hear it. Okay, there was some breathing going on over there now. And put that in the victory column for the Xanman! He made Spike breathe without doing sex things or picking at him until he blew up with nonsensical Britishisms all over the place. Thinking of the hair ruffling, Xander smiled and pulled the collar on. Sure, he felt even more like a Golden Retriever, but that didn't matter. Spike had gotten this for him personally, and with way more pickiness than something like this needed. Xander peeked out of the corner of his eye. Spike was looking at him and smiling, too. He looked, just, wow with that smile. Not sexy, well not unsexy, but beautiful. And tender and gentle and very, very Tara looking at Willow which was way weird considering that Tara's most violent thought ever had been that she should hide and Spike's most violent thought ever was pretty gosh darned violent.
Xander whistled cheerfully all the way to the car. Operation Woo Spike and Make Him My Vampire Honey was going great.
He would have kept whistling, but the car reminded him that he was off to meet this "luv" that Spike flirted with like he hadn't figured out that he was Xander's Vampire Honey and not a Free Agent Vampire Honey. Xander called Spike names under his breath all the way to the shop. And whoever Spike felt the need to flirt with like he didn't flirt with Xander and he hadn't been flirty with Buffy, though he had flirted with Buffy by showing off his demon fighting skills and bringing her presents in a creepy way rather than being charming and all of that like he had been all charming with that "luv" person. He parked the car and stomped to the magic shop's door, scaring off innocent bystanders. One-eyed men with eye-patches can develop some serious scare for a human, he'd discovered in the past few years.
Turned out that "luv" had been around when Spike was still alive. Well, at least she looked like it if she hadn't. Xander hadn't seen anything that gnarled since some of the stunted acacia trees on the savannah. He was as nice to her as he could possibly be, of course, because well, witch here. They could get mean if they wanted. She explained how the charm worked---a no violence charm, handy---what he, personally, had to do to make it work in their room. Apparently, it was a human charm and it could only work with some human habitation. Xander's duffel being parked over night was apparently enough to establish human habitation, despite the presence of another room key in its pocket.
He did get a box of donuts on the way back to the hotel. And he was not sharing. Maybe one for Spike, but the navy guys could bring their own. His donut boy days were over.
Go to Coursthip Rituals Pt. 7
Go to Courtship Rituals Index
Pairing Spike/Xander, Tony/Gibbs
Rating: Teen+ (dirty words, sexual situations)
Warnings: Potty mouth
Notes: Written for the Fall of S/X, not so beta'd. While it's a crossover, knowledge of NCIS isn't necessary to enjoy the fic.
Go back to Coursthip Rituals Pt. 1
Go to Courtship Rituals Index
Courtship Rituals Pt. 6
Spike towed him through the front doors, around the corner, and down the building toward the back, where he stopped and took up his most arrogant, Big Bad's gonna kick some bootie stance.
"Seventeen," Riley said, emerging from the shadows around the back door of the demon bar.
"Nazi," Spike said, sneering.
Xander peered around the alley. It was more a Law and Order type back alley than the Bronze back alley, what with slimey brick walls colored oxidation orange on all sides but two and stinky dumpsters overflowing with disgusting kitchen things, probably even disgustinger than that because, hey, demon bar. "Hey, Riley."
"Hi, Xander."
Spike tilted his head a bit. "Now the pleasantries are over, why are you lot following me?"
"Not following, finding. We want you to back off of Wilder."
"Not bloody likely."
"You have to, Se-Spike. Wilder is," Riley's hands twitched up and open, "he's important."
Xander could sense the pre-fight snark about to tear its way out of Spike and stepped bravely into the breach, whatever that was. "Okay, let's all calm down. No ripping off of heads and calling people by numbers like they're a part of a socket set."
Spike bared fangs at Riley for a moment, but subsided. For now, no doubt.
Riley didn't look happy.
"Okay. Good." Xander tried a smile on for size, but it didn't seem to fit either his face or the circumstances. "Now, Riley, why do we want to leave that guy in jail? Seems like a bad plan to me."
Riley grimaced. "He did break the law." Riley glared at Spike. "And soul or no soul, we can't allow murder."
Spike huffed in a breath.
Xander stepped forward, putting himself a little more between the two. "Leaving a guy like that where the Initiative can get their hands on him if they ever wanted to start up with the evil incorporated again is not the way to go."
Riley frowned. "We're keeping an eye on him."
"'Spect it's like leaving the pimp to guard the prostitute," Spike said.
Xander pursed his lips and tried to look all authority figure and Giles-y---who was way better than Picard---with a dash of Kirk. "I wouldn’t put it like that, but I'm going to have to go with Spike on this one." Actually, considering the whole Ripper deal, Giles was like a Picardian Kirk. Or Kirkian Picard?
Riley actually looked a little bit hurt by that. "We're not like that anymore. We do good things now. We only slay the demons that are up to no good. We check before we slay."
Spike snorted. "You may. You've got no real authority. Them that hold your leash…." Spike shrugged and pulled out a cigarette.
Xander's head bobbed. "He's pretty much right, Riley. You and your squad are really good guys and General Mitchell is a great guy, even if he wouldn't let me wear those cool pants that matched my shirt when we went golfing, but, well, we've got people like the Navy's secretary getting their panties in a twist over this guy and I don't like it."
Riley frowned. "Why is Secnav interested?"
"Well, that Gibbs guy you talked to went and blabbed to him and now we've got a meeting or something. Speaking of meetings and Secnavs, Spike, you should so not go."
"Son of a bitch." Riley did everything but stomp his foot. "I told him to drop it!"
"Well, he kinda didn't. They're pretty smart down there at NCIS. I bet Gibbs would make a pretty good Watcher."
Both Riley and Spike glared at him. He grinned back, feeling rather pleased at the totally unexpected getting-along of Riley and Spike. Even though it wouldn't last long at all.
"So, murder is a bad thing," Xander mused.
Spike frowned in a really cute, confused way. Riley frowned in a don't go there way. "Yes, Xander," Riley said with extreme patience. "Murder is a bad thing. It's such a bad thing that you, personally, took great pains to point out how bad murder was to me in great detail over the course of several excruciatingly long weeks."
"No, I was just thinking. Sometimes murder isn't really murder."
"Didn't know your morals were slippery, pet." Spike did not sound happy about that.
"Not slippery at all. No slippery morals for the Xan-man. Not even a hint of slipperiness on my morals. But killing a fledge or a fyarl isn't murder, is it? Bracchen, yeah, polgara, not so much. The jury is still out on the t'kla."
Spike grinned. "Brilliant."
Riley's frown went from don't go there to confused, only not very cute. "What?"
Spike turned the grin on Riley. "We know something you don't."
"About Wilder," Xander added.
Riley looked away for a moment, then squared his shoulders. "I know he was brought back from the dead."
"Uh, that would be a no. Ethan's sense of self-preservation has been honed to near perfection, for a somewhat bad guy." Xander stuff his hands in his pockets to stop from rubbing them together in joy. "The thing in jail is a homunculus."
"An homunculus, pet. Silent h."
Xander shrugged. "Po-tay-to, po-tah-to, Alex Trebek. Huh, uh, different sounds, same magical construct."
"Secnav knows this. It's why he's involved, isn't it?"
"Pretty much, yeah. Anyway, it's not human, it's not good, and we were really only going to leave it in custody long enough for it to have reasonably staged an escape. Well not so much with the escaping as with the getting rid of it and making the navy cops think it was all with the escaping instead of the being gotten rid of."
"Not the real thing, what put the chip in my head," Spike said, "but close enough." Spike sighed, long and lusty. "Shoulda just let the lawyers get it out so I could kill it."
"And again with the government would so know about what you're up to."
The look Willow used to give him when they were on the playground in elementary school and he used to tell her that he really did accidentally slip and fall on the sidewalks when the girls in skirts were going to walk by, Spike was giving him that look. "Of course you're right, pet, the government hasn't a clue about me. 'M not standing in front of Captain Cardboard. 'M not meeting navy cops and the man what runs the American navy. 'M nice and safely tucked away in your attic in my nappies."
"Yeah, well, okay but that was different. We thought he was still human and that would not have been okay."
Riley sighed. "Look, all I want to know is if you're planning on killing it or not, Se-Spike."
"Would like to, but not as such, no."
"Good. Fine. We've got this understanding with Angel. He doesn't kill people and we don't try to kill him. We actually wouldn't because Giles has that covered, but at least he doesn't have to look over his shoulder. Willow assures us that you're," Riley grimaced, "that you have a soul. We'll extend the same courtesy to you."
Spike sneered and flipped Riley the British bird.
"I'll go tell my superiors about the homunculus, but we're attached to the Corps. Secnav is the top of our food chain."
Xander frowned. "How long has this guy been in charge?"
Riley pressed his lips together and took a deep breath. "Long enough that he could have been a part of the brass that set up Sunnydale Initiative."
Xander nodded. "I see."
Spike shook his head, eyes turning a bit yellow. "If this git is thinking to start up his demon clockworks again, I will kill him."
Riley nodded, all sincere serious face. "And if he is, I won't notice when you do."
"Let's go, pet." Spike turned around and left without looking back at Riley, or even Xander for that matter.
Xander frowned at the swirly duster for a moment. Then he turned to Riley. "It's been good to see you, Riley. You be careful out there, okay?"
"Yeah, okay. Um, say hi to Buffy for me, will you?"
Xander didn't even pretend to smile. "Yeah, will do." Totally not.
He had to jog to catch up to Spike, who had hung a left at the sidewalk and kept right on going. Once he did catch up, he had to take really long steps to keep up. It was kind of exhausting. After the fifteenth block, it was really exhausting. By the time they hit the hotel, Xander was sweaty and tired. Not that he'd had any plans for any action, maybe some smoochage, but his only action plan now was hopefully shower before bed. Spike, thank everything holy, decided on the elevator.
"You know," Xander said between uncaught breaths, "I'm used to some heavy exercise, but keeping up with a vamp is hard on humans when there's any real distance involved. Just a reminder."
Spike flared his nostrils, but said nothing. Odd.
Spike didn't take it much slower to the room. Xander followed a bit more slowly, but not slowly enough to not catch the door when Spike didn't hold it for him. Xander stood in the little hallway thing between the door and the room, confused. Spike tossed his duster onto one of the beds and flopped into his throne-chair. He pulled a cigarette out, lit it, and shotgunned it. He pulled another, lit it, and let it burn in the casually careless droop of his hand.
"Spike?"
Spike's eyes flicked toward him and then back to the middle distance, or the wall, whichever one he was staring at with studious uncaringness.
Xander stepped further into the room. "Uh, what's going on?"
Spike took a drag, then said. "Middle of my day."
Xander frowned. "Mine, too, actually. Why the hot and cold running vamp routine?"
Spike looked at him then, right in the eyes. Eye. The weight of their shared history itched suddenly in the empty socket. Something really soft, and then painful flashed across Spike's face, and then was gone. Spike looked more like one of Drusilla's dolls than the dolls did. "Done all we need to, whelp."
"What?"
Spike took another drag and blew it out slowly. "Know what's happening with the doc now, don't I? Not much to do about it. You call me when you lot decide to break it out of jail. I've an interest in getting rid of it."
Xander's frowny face frowned more. "Uh, this sounds an awful lot like a brush off."
Spike shrugged. "You have your meet with the plodders and navy man. I've a flight out to LA after sunset."
Xander's fingers went up to the collar he still wore. "But…"
Spike smirked. "Impressed the locals, yeah? Keep it. Souvenir."
"I, I see."
"Good that you do, pet." The smirk deepened. "Give Buffy m' love."
Xander turned it over in his head a few times, waiting for the ah-ha lightbulb moment that would take away the lump in his throat. Or waiting for Spike to laugh it off like it was a joke. Spike just stared into the middle distance, didn't even turn on the TV. Sat there, looking all relaxed.
Looking relaxed. Xander took off the collar, held it in his hands. The tag glinted a bit. A stupid dog bone that Spike had picked out because it reminded him of Xander's eyes. Eyes, not eye. Xander tossed the collar on the bed. "I won't need it. I have a better souvenir."
Spike's face twitched a bit, but he didn't move.
Xander ran a finger over the cheek beneath his one eye. "I have this because of you."
Spike sneered. It looked totally fake. "Did it for the slayer."
Xander smiled. "No you didn't, you big faker. You did it because you're Spike."
The sneer deepened. "So this," Spike waved a hand, "was all about gratitude. Throw old Spike a bone because he can't pull the slayer? Is that it?"
Wow, that sounded really wounded. "You know why demons call me the One Who Sees?"
Spike shrugged again. Oh no, Mr. Smooth Vamp. Xander had his number now.
"I don't see the future, but when I pull my head out of my ass, I do a really good job of seeing the truth. And you know what? The truth doesn't always hurt, even when we're afraid of it. Know what happens when a Big Bad feels fear? He attacks."
The fangs flashed out. "I'm not afraid of you, boy."
Xander smiled. "Nope. You're not. I don't know what scares you, but I doubt it's anything living or dead."
Spike sneered again, the vamplies slipping away.
"You didn't pull a slayer, but they're a dime a dozen these days. You pulled me." Xander felt himself fully relax. This was right. "And I'm special. I'm so special, I deserve you."
Spike sniffed. "Right. What sort of prize do you take me for? A bauble you can dangle from your arm as you see fit?"
"Huh?"
"It's all dancing, kittens, and fledge killing with me, until it's time for the serious business. Then it's Spike can't come like some tarted up housewife."
"Again I say, huh?"
Spike glared at him. "The meeting."
Xander blinked. The meeting? Oh. "Oh. That. I kinda thought you'd want to skip hanging out with the top military guy."
Spike glared all that much harder. "I am not a fainting flower."
"Nope. You are so not. Not floweryish at all. More like cattish. A big, dangerous cat with long teeth and claws and danger."
"Don't need to put me in short pants and pat me on the head in front of the toy soldier."
Xander thought about that comment he'd made, kind of tossed off in conversation. He didn't remember the exact words he'd used, but they were like the suggestions he made to slayers all of the time, ones that were tactical or put the slayer's welfare above the problem of the day. He could totally see how Spike wouldn't appreciate that. He sat down on the bed, kind of impressed he'd stayed standing that long. "I'm sorry, Spike. I take care of the people I really care about. Since they're all either slayers, super witches, or Giles, it's a habit to kind of give orders."
"'M a vampire. You're a human. It's a habit that I either eat you or give you orders. Did I give you a single order today?"
"A few."
Spike scowled.
"You towed me around by the collar. You, um, huh. Well, okay, that was pretty much it."
"Asked you. I didn't order you."
Xander felt like a world class jerk. "I'm sorry Spike."
"If you can't respect me, you can't have me."
"I'll try my best not to do it again."
Spike stared at him for a few minutes, long enough that Xander had to fight off the urge to squirm. Then Spike smiled. For reals. Xander smiled back.
"So, uh, the date part of the evening's festivities," Xander said. "Uh, was it, well, you know, uh---"
"It was good, Xander. After the do in LA, we'll go see this tribute band of yours. Talk about how things'll go on, yeah?"
"Yeah." Xander's inner Scooby-Doo was doing the Snoopy dance. "I guess I better call the airport and see if they can get a ticket for me on your plane."
"Don't bother. Private jet. It'll go when we want." Spike sighed. "Evil lawyers are good for something."
"So, we could leave now."
"Could. Just wake the pilot and give him a time."
"Why don't we do that? We can leave a note for the navy cops and just go. Not unless you want to have that meeting."
Spike shifted in the chair. "Best have it, pet. Tchort is right. Can't leave the dolly where the Initiative can use it, now they know it's not a human. Wouldn't take much for them to make their pet mage make a few more."
Xander shuddered. "No, no it wouldn't. Of course, no one says we have to have the meeting at ten. It's kind of rude to have a meeting in the middle of the night, right?"
"Could just go back down to the jail and kill it. Got a spell to get around security cameras. Not as satisfying as a spot of torture, but getting it done quickly would work."
Xander nodded at that. "How hard was it to get in the first time? I imagine they've beefed up patrols and stuff."
Spike frowned. "Probably. I'm not interested in getting shot full of holes before LA."
"I can call them."
"No, let's make the meeting. See if the Secnav bloke does put in the appearance you think he will."
Xander grimaced. "Yeah, okay. Not thrilled about being around a military power guy, though. I should have brought my axe."
Spike leered in a kind of over exaggerated manner. "Sexy, pet."
***
Tony shifted, and sniffled somewhere to the left. Gibbs opened his eyes and blinked, squeezing his lids together to bring the bland wallpaper across the room into focus. It was tilted. He was the tilted one, not the wall. His cheek was pillowed on something hard that made his molars sore from resting on it. Tony's shoulder. Slowly, so he wouldn't wake the man, Gibbs sat up. He checked his weapon, found it undisturbed in its holster between them on the bed. He didn't shift in his sleep. He didn't move. Trained too hard to move when he dozed off.
"You're thinking too hard, boss," Tony muttered. "It's too early for that. Go back to sleep."
Tony should be having a fit.
"If you get any tenser, you're going to break something."
Gibbs ground his teeth.
Tony sat up and rubbed his head, turning the bedhead into a mess of cowlicks. "Geez, boss, it's not like I haven't slept in the same bed with McGee, Kate or Ziva."
Gibbs glared at him. "Rule 12, Tony."
Tony twisted and narrowed his eyes. "Tony?"
Gibbs upped the glare intensity.
"I said slept in the same bed, not had sex."
"Go back to sleep, DiNozzo."
Tony flopped back down. "Just remember, you cuddled me first."
"So file a sexual harassment suit tomorrow. Go to sleep now."
Tony smiled, his teeth gleaming in the spare light from the bathroom. "Nope. No lawsuits. Maybe some bragging, though. Not even Abby has had full body Gibbs cuddles. Just me."
Gibbs frowned. "DiNozzo…."
Tony shrugged and yawned. "S'okay boss. Won't tell. Your cuddly secret is safe with me. Cuddle more if you wanna. You give good cuddle."
Gibbs watched Tony's eyes flicker shut and his lips part just enough to breathe through. Tony's muscles slowly relaxed, either deliberately or as a natural consequence of drifting off to sleep. Without really thinking about it, Gibbs slid his weapon under the pillow, within easy reach. He put his head down on the pillow and watched Tony sleep until it was hard to keep his own eyes open. Before he gave all the way into it and went to sleep, he rolled toward Tony, fitting their bodies together. He shifted a moment, until they were nestled. Tomorrow, he could regret this. Blame it on exhaustion or vampires. Now, he'd soak in the heat that he'd never feel again.
"Hey, Boss," Tony whispered.
"Go to sleep."
"Rule 12."
Gibbs felt his breathing even out a bit more. "Boss, not coworker."
"But---"
"Not in the Corps. 134 doesn't apply." Gibbs prodded the stomach beneath his hand. "Sleep."
"But NCIS has regu---"
"Make my own rules. Now go to sleep."
Tony didn't say anything else. Instead, he twisted, catlike, under the half hold Gibbs had him in. Gibbs barely had his eyes open before Tony kissed him. Not long, but long enough.
Gibbs relaxed the muscles he didn't know he'd tensed up and just went with it.
Tony pulled away, settled back into the bed, and smiled. "Night, Gibbs."
Gibbs huffed a breath, then decided to just get some rest.
***
It was nearly morning. Xander didn't have to use a clock to figure that out, he could watch the dawn arrive with the shift in Spike's aliveness. Even in the middle of the day, Spike was the most alive person Xander had ever known; but in the face of the dawn, something in Spike slowed and hushed itself. It was almost like Ripley or Hicks settling into the stasis bed for the coma-like snooze on the trip back to Earth. Even if he was sleeping or fighting, Spike would have this deadness to him until the sun poked up over the horizon, and then he'd shake it off and go back to whatever he was doing. In this case, smoking a cigarette.
"Think you're right, pet," Spike said softly from his throne-chair, once the sun had crested. "We should leave. Call the wanker up."
Xander, who had settled into the bed to drowse a little, opened his eyes. "When?"
"Half hour. Give me time to sort the pilot and a car."
"Oh, okay." Xander let his eyes drift back shut.
"No, pet. Set the meeting in half hour." Spike sounded amused.
Xander forced himself to sit up, and then tossed Spike a sour look. Vampires. Go figure. He scooched over to the phone on the night stand and picked it up. He figured that since the meeting was in 708, the wank---Gibbs would probably be in 709, if the t'kla's info was any good. He dialed 709 and hoped he didn't wake up some poor tourist.
"Gibbs."
"Hey, I got the right number, cool!"
There was a moment of silence. "Harris?"
"Yeah. We'll be down to your place in about 30 minutes for the meeting. We've got things to do, places to be, and all that."
"Meeting's at 10."
"And yet, there you are, not doing a whole lot. Sounds like a fine time meet to me."
"There are things to do first."
"What? Breakfast? We'll catch that on the way out. Like I said, things to do and places to be." Xander smiled. "Besides, you seem to be a busy guy. Evil's only holiday is Halloween. Though, since people don't know that, they probably only take off Christmas and birthdays."
"We can't meet in 30 minutes."
"Well, then we'll skip it. You can give me your email address or something if you want, but we'll just watch the news and see what happens. Okay? Okay, cool. Nice meeting you and your buddy, but we've gotta go."
"Wait!" Gibbs sounded like he wanted to smack someone.
"What?"
"The Secretary of the Navy is coming to the meeting."
Xander decided to play stupid. "The secretary? Geez, what has her panties in a bunch? Buy her a latte and send her shoe shopping."
"Harris."
Spike was wearing a proud sort of smirk.
Xander grinned at him. "Gibbs."
"Just meet us at 10."
"We're not interested in meeting Secnav."
"Why not?"
"Duh. Military? Kidnapping people and putting behavior modification chips in their heads? Not interested. Well, unless he's a demon. Is he a demon? I hear they're involved with the IRS and all that stuff. Which really explains tax forms because those things look like English but they're not written in English, it's more like those stupid prophecies you find in Latin in the really old books that look like Latin, but it's more like a keltoi's butt snot and just tells you that on this day in October of two thousand, there will be blue in the hair of the person nearest the statue of a man holding a pipe on a horse, and that always turns out to be some idiot standing in a water fountain in Picadilly for some reason."
Gibbs didn't say anything. Spike chuckled.
Xander said, "So, spit it out. What kind of demon is he? We wanna come prepared. You never know if you need to bring fresh heart of virgin or some pecans. We use squirrel."
"He's not a demon."
"Okay then, well. Email us."
"He's in charge of the Initiative."
"And?"
Gibbs sighed. "He's the one who decides what happens to the thing in jail. If you have any interest in that, then you'll come at 10."
"You know, Gibbs, world saving is nothing but long periods of fledge-staking and fyarl-stabbing boredom broken up by the moments of actual world saving. We're done with the fledge-staking part of the festivities. Time is your buddy, not ours."
Gibbs was silent for a moment---Xander got the feeling that negotiation really wasn't his thing---and then he said, "I'll call you back in 10 minutes."
"Fine."
Gibbs hung up before Xander could say anything else.
"Take it we're not meeting in thirty, pet?"
Xander shrugged. "Did get the confirm on Secnav. Secnav? It's kind of stupid and kind of works. We could change Giles from Head Librarian to Helib."
Spike arched an eyebrow. "Thought Rupert was Head of the Council?"
"Yeah, but we like head librarian better. Though, HeCon has a ring to it. It's very spandex."
"Bet Rupes likes that."
Xander grinned. "Of course not. Why would we call him something he prefers, which is Giles, by the way."
"'Cause it's polite."
"Like you do polite."
Spike looked all wet cat offended. "Can so! My mum brought me up proper."
"Well, I haven't seen mu---"
The phone rang, shutting him up. Xander reached for it, but Spike snatched it out of his hand and snarled, "What?"
Whatever whoever said had Spike wearing his bored face, the one that was dangerous because he was playing power games and power games usually ended in someone's head getting ripped off, and that someone was never Spike.
"Wanker." Spike sat on the bed, forcing Xander to scoot over with an indignant squawk.
Xander tried to scootch up and stick his ear to the side of the receiver so he could hear Gibbs, too, but Spike pushed him away.
"'s not polite to have meetings in the middle of a vamp's night." Yeah, trust Spike to rub the vampire in someone's face, especially if they were uncomfy with the thoughts of vampness.
After a moment of the tinny sound of someone's voice over the speaker, which Xander couldn't make out at all, Spike sighed elaborately. "Fine, then. 8 am. Bring 'im here. I'll have a bit of brekkie while we wait, yeah?"
Whatever Gibbs said had Spike's eyes turning yellow.
"Eat anyone I please, tosser. I don't take orders from you or any other hopped up bully boy."
More Spike unhappies, but the vampiness retreated.
"Piss off," Spike said, and then hung up.
"Well?"
"They'll bring the tosser here at 8, pet. I've a call to make; you'll have to play errand boy to fetch it. Shop's not too far. You'll be able to pick it up and yourself some brekkie on the way back."
"Fetch what?"
"Charm." Spike tapped in a phone number on a cell phone. "Hello, luv. 'S Spike."
Xander heaved himself up and got himself completely dressed, meaning he put on his shoes, while Spike flirted and charmed whoever he was talking to.
"I'll send my boy right down, luv. Slayer's Knight." Spike said. "Thank you, luv."
There was a moment of chatter and then Spike hung up. He ignored the pouting and sulking that Xander was doing with a lot of amusement and some affection. The whole hair ruffling like Xander was an extra furry Golden Retriever thing got a bit annoying, even though he had to admit it felt really, really good.
Xander took Spike's directions and grumbled about going to the magic shop of this mysterious "luv" for the ordered charm. He stuck his wallet in his pocket and snagged his keys. The collar was on the dresser next to them. He stuck his keys in a front pocket and snatched up the collar. Spike, who had been playing the big fat faker lounging around without moving and pretending he didn't care in his throne chair, stiffened up enough for Xander to hear it. Okay, there was some breathing going on over there now. And put that in the victory column for the Xanman! He made Spike breathe without doing sex things or picking at him until he blew up with nonsensical Britishisms all over the place. Thinking of the hair ruffling, Xander smiled and pulled the collar on. Sure, he felt even more like a Golden Retriever, but that didn't matter. Spike had gotten this for him personally, and with way more pickiness than something like this needed. Xander peeked out of the corner of his eye. Spike was looking at him and smiling, too. He looked, just, wow with that smile. Not sexy, well not unsexy, but beautiful. And tender and gentle and very, very Tara looking at Willow which was way weird considering that Tara's most violent thought ever had been that she should hide and Spike's most violent thought ever was pretty gosh darned violent.
Xander whistled cheerfully all the way to the car. Operation Woo Spike and Make Him My Vampire Honey was going great.
He would have kept whistling, but the car reminded him that he was off to meet this "luv" that Spike flirted with like he hadn't figured out that he was Xander's Vampire Honey and not a Free Agent Vampire Honey. Xander called Spike names under his breath all the way to the shop. And whoever Spike felt the need to flirt with like he didn't flirt with Xander and he hadn't been flirty with Buffy, though he had flirted with Buffy by showing off his demon fighting skills and bringing her presents in a creepy way rather than being charming and all of that like he had been all charming with that "luv" person. He parked the car and stomped to the magic shop's door, scaring off innocent bystanders. One-eyed men with eye-patches can develop some serious scare for a human, he'd discovered in the past few years.
Turned out that "luv" had been around when Spike was still alive. Well, at least she looked like it if she hadn't. Xander hadn't seen anything that gnarled since some of the stunted acacia trees on the savannah. He was as nice to her as he could possibly be, of course, because well, witch here. They could get mean if they wanted. She explained how the charm worked---a no violence charm, handy---what he, personally, had to do to make it work in their room. Apparently, it was a human charm and it could only work with some human habitation. Xander's duffel being parked over night was apparently enough to establish human habitation, despite the presence of another room key in its pocket.
He did get a box of donuts on the way back to the hotel. And he was not sharing. Maybe one for Spike, but the navy guys could bring their own. His donut boy days were over.
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