Waiting 7b/7
I decided not to wait so long between chapters. So, here's the latest. I'm sorry that's it's divided into so many sub-chapters, but the lj's only take so much data, it's hard to know where to cut them up. The orginal chapters were much longer.
Title: Waiting
Author: Soulseeker Rating: NC17 for language, slash, and dark theme.
Summary: Can Spike go on without his love?
Pairing: Spike/Xander implied. Spike/Angel
Part: 7b/7
Rating: NC-17 for adult themes, language and sexual content
Feedback: Yes, it gives me the warm and fuzzys.
Disclaimers: I owe nothing. I just got a new job and I don't even get paid until the next month.
Waiting
Previously in Waiting:
The blond yawned. He’ll deal with everything later. Right now, he was tired and the couch was comfortable. He stretched out and drifted off into the first peaceful sleep in ages.
Spike awoke several hours later, yawning and scratching himself. He felt surprisingly at peace. It seemed as if he’d made the right decision after all. Besides, who was going annoy his fat prat of a Sire, if not him?
Speaking of which, he looked over and spied Angel still asleep, still snoring away. He even had a little drool trailing down the corner of his mouth. Spike got up and nudged the sleeping vampire with his foot. No reaction, except that Angel snored louder and actually started to get an erection. A wicked little gleam sparkled in his blue eyes as Spike made his way to the kitchen. It was time for His Royal Fatness to wake up and Spike knew just how to go about doing it.
Angel was having the strangest erotic dream he’d ever had. Spike was standing in front of him . . . no, not Spike, William. William as a human, with his unruly curls and spectacles. The boy was magnificent, with his blood warmed skin and hard cock proudly jutting up, nearly lying flat against his tight stomach. Instead of clothes, William sported a beautiful pair of delicate wings, butterfly wings to be exact, with every color of the rainbow constantly shifting and swirling.
Then William was lying on a bed, a large bed with black silk sheets, rumpled as if someone had just left them. William displayed himself amongst the sheets, wings spread out, hands held above his head, nearly gripping the headboard. One long elegant leg was straight and the other was cocked to the side. Then William reached down and lightly touched his ridged cock, making the blood engorged head turn from a deep red to a delicious purple.
William softly moaned, sounding needy and wanting, and arched his back. The blond’s hard cock bobbed and called to Angel, leaking sweet juice. He beckoned with his other hand, urging Angel to join him. The room was perfumed with the smell of sex and the dark haired vampire’s head spun with the heady scent. Angel licked his lips and found that he was also naked. Reaching out, he almost touched a hot thigh when something inhumanly cold drenched his hard dick.
Spike gleefully watched as Angel came awake screaming, his lap full of ice cubes. Angel clutched his head in pain, the shock of waking up and the hangover was unbearable. It hadn’t helped that he’d screamed. Moaning in pain, he glared over at Spike, who was grinning and holding an empty ice bucket.
“Was that totally necessary?” Angel’s voice came out in a whispered whine.
“You were snoring and I couldn’t wake your fat ass up.”
“Don’t yell! Owwww!!!!”
Angel, still clutching his head in pain, managed to crawl up onto the couch. Spike didn’t bother to tell him that he hadn’t been yelling. He knew the from extensive experiences that hangovers were a bitch and had deliberately kept his voice down. But that didn’t mean that he had to let Angel off the hook.
“How much did you drink?”
Angel tried to think though the pounding pain. He finally held up two fingers and mouthed the word, ‘bottles’. Spike blinked, a little surprised. Only two bottles got him passing out drunk? He’d seen Angelus polish off a half-barrel of wine once in Italy and was still standing straight enough to go hunting. So, why did two bottles knock him on his ass?
It posed an interesting question though and the scholar in Spike was intrigued. Did the demon get drunk or the soul? Could the demon have a high tolerance for alcohol and the soul be a teetotaler? Or had the soul guilted Angel into abstinence, thus making his first real drinking binge after a long dry spell an experience not to be repeated?
Spike wondered what Wesley and Giles would think about this. He sure that nothing like this had ever been recorded in any Watcher’s diaries. After all, Angel was the only vampire with a soul in known existence, past or present. It might be interesting in a scientific angle and Angel would make an interesting guinea pig. The blond shuddered at that line of thought, his own experiences in that field was enough to turn him off that idea. Still, he and the Watchers could discuss the line between demon and soul. No experimenting, though.
“Why?” Spike asked.
Angel just looked blankly at Spike’s question. ‘Why, what?’, his expression asked. Spike interpreted that look and clarified himself.
“Why did you get pissing drunk, Peaches?”
Angel took a moment to think about his answer. “I thought that you were going to kill yourself. I thought that I might get smashed enough so that the idea of you being gone might not hurt so much. At least, it sounded good before I started to drink.”
That was no big surprise to Spike, due to a rambling Angel a few hours ago. He let hurt creep into his voice. “I thought that you said that you trusted me. Some trust if you’d already decided that I was going to off myself. Everything you said was just a big lie, wasn’t it? You never trusted my choices before, why start now? Guess things haven’t changed between us, hey?”
“No! No, that isn’t it at all! You have to believe me, Spike. I told you that I trusted you to make the right choice for you and I meant it. I just thought that you’d choose death rather then to live without Xander. His passing hurt you so deeply and nothing seemed to reach you. I watched you for months, Spike and you were just wasting away in front of my eyes. You were only a shadow of my Childe, a walking shade. I trusted you Spike, but I didn’t trust myself. I admit it, I was stupid. And I’m sorry.”
There was an awkward silence. Angel had been amazed that he was able to think and speak from his heart though the pounding headache. Spike was oddly touched at the Angel’s admittance that he was an idiot. Angel had never admitted to such a mental weakness before. He didn’t know what to say. It seemed that Angel did care for him, at least a little bit. But it didn’t mean that he liked the pompous wanker. Spike finally broke the silence.
“I . . . I need some clothes. Can’t go around dressed in a sheet forever, can I? Don’t wanna give Fred the vapors. Or you any ideas.”
Angel nearly nodded, but decided against it. Nodding just might make his head fall off. Besides, Angel was smart enough not to give his opinion that the blond could go around dressed in a bath cloth if he wanted to. He’d certainly enjoy the view.
“I had Cordelia buy some more clothes. They’re up in my closet. You go ahead and change. I think that I’ll just stay here and make sure my head’s still attached.”
Angel stretched out on the couch, hoping that his head wouldn’t spontaneously explode. He’ll call Wesley as soon as his stopped pounding out the ‘William Tell Overture’. No sense in letting the others know about this little slip off the wagon. Spike was still alive and that was all that mattered.
*************************
Spike found the bags in the bottom of Angel’s closet. He hesitated, fingering the clothes, letting the soft, dark cotton caress his pale fingers. Once he put these on, Spike knew that he’d never wear Xander’s clothes again. And wasn’t that the reason he’d decided to live? To go forward and not backwards?
Shaking off the sudden melancholy, he automatically got dressed, deliberately not thinking about what he was wearing. Heaving a deep sigh, he wondered what he looked like wearing black again and wished that he had a reflection. Now that he was dressed, he wondered what to do next.
Slight frustration led him to run his long fingers though his hair. Right, his hair. That was next. Soft honey blond curls didn’t go with the Big Bad persona. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound as they always say. He needed his hair cut and bleached. Spike seriously doubted that Angel had what he needed and he refused to use Peaches’ hair gel. It’ll probably make him smell like a fruit salad. And nail polish, have to have black lacquer nail polish. Might as well go all the way.
The blond vampire didn’t know the area all that well and didn’t fancy getting lost by himself. Still being utterly defenseless around humans had made him leery about going out alone. Searching around Angel’s bedroom, he found the older vampire’s address book. And he also found out some interesting things for future blackmail.
At first, Spike got nothing when he picked up the phone receiver. It sort of amused him that Angel forgot to pay his phone bill, but this was a working detective agency. Well, semi-working, and the last thing that would be cut off would be the phones. Taking a few seconds, he located the switch and turned the phone back on.
Going alphabetically, Spike first tried Cordelia’s place. All he got was an answering machine. The same thing when he dialed Gunn’s number. He hit pay dirt with Wesley. The ex-Watcher had been so flabbergasted when he realized that it was Spike on the phone, that Fred had to take over.
She was thrilled to hear from him and Spike only told her that he was feeling much better, and if possible, would she or Cordy bring hair bleach and nail polish when they came back. Fred agreed and then said the oddest thing when she was hanging up. “Spike’s alive. You can untie Cordelia now.”
The blond vampire was in the lobby drinking a mug of blood when all four of the crew members camp trooping in. Wes, Gunn, and Fred looked a little sheepish and Cordy had a determined look on her face. She hugged Spike warmly and kissed his cheek.
“I’m glad your ok, sweetie.” Cordelia said, smoothing out Spike’s tee shirt where it had rumpled from the hug. Spike wasn’t sure what to think about this. The vibes of anger he got from her wasn’t directed at him.
Still speaking calmly and as sweet as sugar, she asked him, “Sweetie, can you tell me where Angel is? I have something I need to discuss with him.”
A little perplexed by the Seer’s behavior, he meekly pointed towards the office, forgetting to warn her about Angel’s hangover. She politely thanked him, kissed him once more and headed towards the office with a determined air in her walk. On the way, she glared at her co-workers. Spike was amused to see that they all collectively took one step back.
They all jumped at the sound of the office door slamming shut and Spike winced in sympathy as he heard Cordelia’s shrill voice yelling at poor, hung-over Angel. On second thought, the prat didn’t deserve the pity. He fully deserved to be yelled at like that for getting so drunk and not having the foresight to find a good hiding place to lick his wounds later. Spike took a peek at the others as they shot looks of pity and relief at the office door. Apparently they’d just been on the receiving end of Cordy’s wrath. The blond just hoped that he’d never be on the wrong end of Cordy’s temper.
Fred handed Spike a small bag of the items he’d requested. He smiled in thanks and blushed. Gunn came forward and handed him a paper bag. Inside it was Xander’s clothes, carefully folded and stacked. A square object wrapped in layers and layers of newspapers graced the top. Spike knew that it was his picture. The fact that Gunn had so obviously taken such great care of his things and returned them safe and sound choked Spike up. He could only nod his thanks and went up to his room.
Spike carefully and reverently placed the clothes in the bottom drawer of his dresser. He took his time, slowly straightening out each crease and lovingly stroking the soft material. Two hours later, he was finished and was just about to place the wrapped picture on top, when he hesitated. He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t shut Xander away like that. He wasn’t ready to let him go so completely. He could put the clothes away, but it was all together different with Xander’s smile.
Feeling righteously selfish, he unwrapped the package and gently placed the picture on his bedside table, right where it would be the last thing he saw going to bed and the first thing he saw waking up. That would be alright, wouldn’t it? He was going on with his life, but it should be ok to have a reminder of his only love. Besides, completely shutting the picture away would be like burying Xander and he just couldn’t do that again.
With a new purpose to focus on, Spike cut, washed and bleached his hair back to his familiar white blond. As his hair dried, he painted his nails and thought about his girls. The anniversary of Xander’s death was next week and he wondered if the girls might like to visit him here. The vampire just wasn’t ready to go back to Sunnydale right now. He wondered if he ever would.
***************************
Angel had been lying in the couch, wondering which hurt the most, his toe nails or his hair, when Cordelia came marching in and slammed the door. It felt as if a cannon had gone off in his head. He could only lie there in abject misery as the half-demoness Seer unloaded her guns with both barrels blazing.
She called Angel every name in the book and a few she made up on the spot. Angel could only hang his head and agree with her. He wisely kept his mouth shut until she ran out of steam. And when she finally stopped talking and stood there with her foot tapping, Angel then finally proceeded to tell her everything. He revealed to her about the mating ritual and, in great and gruesome description, of the demoness Angelus and Darla had taken. He told her about how she died, about how the overwhelming grief that he’d felt coming off his Childe had been the same.
If Spike had mated, death would’ve been the only cure. He talked about how much he still loved Spike and his thoughts about just locking up the younger vampire after he’d realized that he hadn’t mated, but was still suicidal. Angel talked about how he felt when he realized that that wasn’t the answer. They could’ve kept Spike safe from himself, but for how long and at what cost to Spike’s sanity? Someday, Angel might be dusted and then Spike’s care would’ve fallen to the rest of the A.I. And then what? he asked. Eventually, the others would’ve grown older and died, and no one knew how long Cordelia was going to live. Spike could’ve been left alone, locked in a room and starving for eternity. Could Cordelia live with herself if that happened?
Angel talked on and on. He told her about the choice he gave Spike and the reason. He also confessed about his own drinking binge and how happy he was that Spike choose to live. Angel confessed all of his hopes and fears for the future. And, at the end, they both held each other and cried; part in relief and part in grief for the trials that Spike had gone though.
Cordelia left Angel to sleep the rest of the hangover off. She was still angry, but not so much now. Now she understood Angel’s reasoning, but that still didn’t excuse the fact that she’d been tied up. She planned to wait a bit until the others relaxed around her before she got her revenge. She gave a wicked grin at that, savoring the potential misery she was going to put the others though. Pay back was a bitch.
No one saw much of Spike for the rest of the night. He spent his time searching for suitable rooms for the girls in case he could get them to visit, so it was a surprise to the others when the younger vampire came downstairs the next day with bleached hair, painted nails and black clothes. The merely smiled at him and returned to their various tasks. They’d all agreed the night before not bring up what happened the last few days. The last thing they wanted was a relapse. Spike also avoided the painful topic.
Spike sought out Angel and found him in the kitchen, hunched over a mug of blood. Apparently the hangover was taking it’s own sweet time to go away. He thumped his own cup down on the table and took a perverse delight in Angel’s wince.
“I was wondering if I could invite the girls to L.A. for a visit. I found some o.k. rooms and with a bit of work, they’ll clean up right nice. Whatcha’ think?”
Angel had looked up as Spike started to speak. He froze at the sight that greeted him. The unruly honey-blond curls were gone. In their place was slicked back white hair. The colorful shirts and baggy pants were also gone. Spike was wearing the clothes that he’d bought him. They were still too big, but the slim vampire should fill them out better with more feedings. And the lost, vulnerable look that his Childe had carried around for so long was also gone. In their place, confidence and determination shone in those beautiful expressive blue eyes. Angel could get to like that look.
He’d been so absorbed in staring at Spike’s new, or rather old, look that he was startled when pale fingers, sporting black nail polish, snapped in front of his eyes.
“Yo, Peaches! Haven’t gone senile on me yet, have you?”
“No, sorry. Just drifted off a bit. What were you saying?”
Spike rolled his eyes. “I asked if I can invite the girls here next week. Found a couplea nice rooms and thought it’ll be nice to see them again. That is, if I have your permission.”
If he had his permission?! Had Spike actually thought that he’d say no? Angel took a moment to reflect on that. Spike really didn’t have anything to base a comparison on. For the last few months he’d been here, he’d been forced to feed, forced to leave his room at least once a day, forced to wear new clothes, which backfired, and forced to talk to Dawn, even though he hadn’t wanted to. No wonder he thought that he needed permission to see his friends.
Angel caught a flicker of uncertainty in those blue eyes. He wanted to kick himself for reducing his Childe, this proud creature, to practically beg to allow his friends to visit.
“Of course they can come. You don’t need my permission for anything like that. They’re your friends, they’re welcome here anytime.”
Spike nodded his thanks and for a few minutes there was a comfortable silence.
“How’s the hangover?” Spike suddenly asked.
Angel turned a little nervous. “Better . . . better. Um, I hate to ask, but did I do . . . or say . . anything embarrassing last night? I, uh, I can’t remember much. Actually the whole evening’s a total blank.”
The blond hid his smile by taking a long sip. Here was his chance, the perfect opportunity to yank his Sire’s chain. He put down his cup and put on his best poker face, staring at his clasped hands. He let the silence stretch, making Angel highly uncomfortable.
“Oh, fuck! What’d I do?!” Angel was agitated. The longer Spike stayed quiet, the worse he felt.
“Oh, God, it was bad, wasn’t it? I didn’t make a pass at you, did I?”
“No, no it wasn’t anything like that. It was just . . . um . . . “
”Tell me!” Angel was in full panic mode now. What could be worse then making a pass?
“I’m don’t think I should say anything. This is too uncomfortable. Let’s just forget the whole thing, shall we?”
“No! Tell me what I did! If it wasn’t a pass, what was it? Did I jump you? Oh, God! That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why you won’t say anything. I’m so, so sorry Spike. I was drunk, I didn’t know what I was doing! Can you ever forgive me?”
“No, you didn’t jump me. It’s just that . . . that . . .” Spike still wouldn’t look at Angel. The blond looked deeply ashamed, which caused more panic to shoot thought the older vampire.
“That, what? What?!”
“Well . . . “
”Tell me now, Spike! If I didn’t make a pass at you or tried to have sex, what’s so bad that you can’t even tell me?”
Spike hunched his shoulders and tucked his head down further. Angel couldn’t see the huge grin splitting his face. This was far better then he’d ever thought. He deliberately mumbled under his breath.
“What? What did you say? I can’t understand you.”
Spike looked up at Angel, letting an embarrassing blush show. The older vampire paled even further. This was worse then he thought. The blond gleefully chuckled on the inside. He was an even better actor then he’d thought.
“I said, that you started to sing Barry Manilow songs to me.”
Spike enjoyed the look of utter horror on Angel’s face. He’d found the hidden CD’s while looking for the address book. The fact that the Manilow tunes were hidden while the other classical CD’s were out in the open told Spike that Angel didn’t want anyone else to know about his tastes.
Despite the lingering hangover, Angel started to hit his head on the table, muttering over and over again, “Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.”
Spike let out a shit-eating grin at Angel’s distress; which quickly turned into pitying sympathy as soon as the older vampire looked up.
“Please, please tell me that’s all I did,” he begged the blond.
“Well . . .” Spike hedged, not looking at him.
Angel’s eyes grew large as he realized that there was more to be told. He got a sinking feeling the longer his Childe avoided his eyes and fidgeted in his seat. Whatever it was, it must be bad if Spike was this reluctant to tell him. Angel actually whimpered in dread.
“Tell me. Whatever it is, it can’t be as bad as my singing. Could it?”
Spike acted as if he were being tortured, dragging out the damning information.
“You . . . you got down on your knees . . . and . . . um . . . and started to recite poetry.”
Startled, Angel squeaked out, “Poetry?!”
Spike nodded, just getting started. “Yeah, mate. Keats and Bryon mostly, but a little of c.c. cummings thrown in. You forgot some of the words, but it was a good try. And then . . . then you started to compare me to butterflies, moon beams and doves. It was pretty awful and you rambled on a bit, but I appreciated the effort though, really.”
Angel gave a strangled, mortified groan and resumed to beat his head on the table again. It must be true, all of it. He remembered the dream he’d had. Spike couldn’t have known about that dream. With his head still on the table, he tentatively asked, “Is that all?”
Spike fought the smile threatening to burst though. He’d purposely thrown in the bit about the butterfly, knowing that a little variation of the truth was better then a lie.
“Well, you stood up . . . and . . . passed out on top of me. Took me a while to get free. Might want to think about going on a diet if you’re gonna make a habit of that.”
Angel’s head shot up and he saw the blond’s look of pity. He gave another mortifying squeak and fled the kitchen. Spike waited until he couldn’t hear footsteps before he let out the laughter that had been building up since Angel asked his first question. God, if felt good to laugh. He hadn’t had much reason for mirth this past year and he couldn’t help but remember the joy that Xander took in simply living day by day. Xander would’ve enjoyed that immensely.
A few hours later, Spike made the call to the Summer’s residence. Dawn was in school and Tara and Buffy were at the shop. Willow had been overjoyed at hearing Spike’s voice. It was the first time since Xander’s death that the vampire willingly talked to anyone without having anything dragged out of him. And it was the first time since he’d arrived in L.A. that he’d actually called one of the girls.
After the usual pleasantries were out of the way, Spike got down to the heart of the phone call. It was one thing to suggest a get-together, it was a different matter if they declined. What if they didn’t want to see him, especially on the day that Xander died? After all, from the Nibblet’s conversations, the girls had managed to move on with their lives. Whereas he’d barely existed.
Oh, Spike knew that they had loved Xander and his death had affected them. But not on the same level as it did him. The blond wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t want a living reminder of their best friend.
“Red, I was wondering if you and the rest of the birds wanted to come for a visit next week.”
“Next week? Oh, but that’s . . . oh!” Willow trailed off and was silent. The vampire’s anxiety rose. They didn’t want to see him.
“How are you really doing, Spike? And none of this ‘I’m fine’ crap, mister or I’ll turn you into a toad.”
“I’m fine, Red. Really. Or, at least I’m doing better then I was. I’ve . . . I’ve healed some in the past few days and just wanted to see some familiar faces. I understand if you girls have plans. Maybe some other time, hey?”
“Don’t be a stupidhead. Of course we want to come. Dawn’s been begging to see you every day since you left. I just didn’t know if you would’ve wanted to see us. Especially since Xander’s been gone a year next week.”
“Now whose being a stupidhead? Of course I want to see my girls. You’re family and family always means that nobody gets left behind.”
They both smiled at the shared private joke. The ‘Lilo and Stitch’ movie came out a few months before Xander died. Dawn had dragged the two of them to see it for the first time. After that, it was Xander insisting that they see it every night it showed. He loved that movie and insisted that it fit the Scoobies to a tee. Spike, like Stitch, had started out evil, but turned good due to love. The seven of them were family and it didn’t matter that they didn’t share the same blood, except for Buffy and Dawn. They had formed a small family. Sometimes broken, sometimes whole, but always love flowed all around them, no matter that their ‘father’ lived in England.
Xander had said that love had no boundaries and Spike knew that he was right. He might be in L.A. and the girls in Sunnydale, but he still felt the love. It was time for them to get together and do what they hadn’t been able to do before when Spike had been so lost in his grief. It was time to remember Xander and move on, if at least a little bit.
After deciding on the arrival day, they both hung up to make plans. Spike informed Cordy and Fred about next week and the A.I. girls were excited. They’d had fun at the slumber party and looked forward to seeing Buffy and the gang again. They knew that this get together was mainly for Spike’s benefit and made their own plans to be scarce so that the Scoobies could have some alone time. Cordy was pleased that Spike seemed to be doing well and she felt better for the lie she told Dawn. The teen had been so worried about the blond vampire that she told Dawn that Spike was doing much better then he was. The Seer was glad to see that it wasn’t going to be a lie for long.
While Angel slept the rest of the hangover off, Spike and the girls recruited Wes and Gunn into helping them clean the rooms Spike had selected. The vampire had found rooms close to his, so that they wouldn’t waste a minute of the visit. He purposely found only three rooms, hoping that the witches would share the same bed. They belonged together and Spike was determined to help the Fates along. Too much could happen and they might find themselves without the other someday. He didn’t want them to regret the loss of time.
******************************
Angel woke up in time to help the men paint and the girls left to get clean bedding and buy small items to decorate the rooms with. Spike wanted them to feel at home so that future visits would be more then welcomed.
The days before the visit alternately passed by in a blur and a crawl for Spike. One minute he was excited to see his girls again, and the next he was fearful about what they’d think about his moving past his grief. Would they think that he’d forgotten Xander by going back to his old look? Would they be happy that he was feeding again or disappointed that he had to come to L.A. to get better? Would they be upset that they hadn’t been able to get him well?
The closer it got to Arrival Day, the more agitated Spike became. So much so that Angel had to resort to force feeding the nervous vampire again and sedating him during the day so that they all could sleep. Angel worried that his Childe was sliding backwards and nearly called the visit off several times. But, one or the other members of his team always talked him out of it.
Spike needed to see Buffy and the others again. He was reassured several times that the blond would calm down once the girls got there. It was good for Spike to have some close connection to Xander right now. They were all good excuses and Angel felt lost and worried. The older vampire wondered if Spike would leave with them and his heart ached over that. He didn’t want to let Spike leave his sight for the fear that the blond would simply disappear. Spike hadn’t actually said that he was going to leave, but Angel knew it wouldn’t take much to change his Childe’s mind.
A- Day arrived and both vampires were on edge for different reasons. The rest of the A.I crew took up nearby positions, ready to lend support or to interference if the visit proved to be too much for Spike.
Dawn was the first one through the hotel doors. Spotting Spike, she squealed in surprise and delight, throwing her arms around the bleach blond, holding on tight and crying.
“Hey, now. Easy there, Nibblet. Don’t want to break a rib, now do we? And what’s with the waterworks? Anybody’ll think you weren’t glad to see me?”
Dawn finally let go and wiped her tears away, a large grin gracing her face. “Of course I’m glad to see you! You know I cry when I’m happy.”
Spike rolled his eyes and muttered something about always being surrounded by insane females that Dawn didn’t quite catch.. Buffy, Willow and Tara came though the door, each loaded down with luggage. By the amount of bags, Spike wondered if they were going to move in permanently. Which would’ve been just fine by him. The girls saw him, screamed in unison, dropped the bags and swarmed him.
All of a sudden, Spike found his arms full of women, all of them babbling and crying at the same time. He couldn’t help but think of how Xander would’ve loved this welcoming committee and he was overwhelmed by his emotions. If he had went ahead with his first choice, he would’ve never felt the girls hug him ever again. That thought choked him up and he fought hard not to cry. He’d done entirely enough of that the last few weeks to last the rest of his unlife, thank you very much.
Somewhere around his chest area, he heard a muffled, “Breathing becoming a problem now, people.”
Looking down through a sea of heads, he spotted ‘Lil Bit smooshed against him. She’d refused to give up her place and had paid the consequences. Laughing a little, Spike managed to get the other three girls to step back a bit. Off to the side, Spike heard a deep voice clear his throat. Looking over, he saw Giles and the sight floored him. Why had Giles come all this way from England? Was it some sort of emergency, an end of the World thing, that caused the Watcher to hop on a plane and come to L.A.?
Spike was pretty positive that it had nothing to do with him. After all, the others considered Giles to be their father figure. Xander had gone so far as to say that the Watcher was the father he never had. The blond vampire was old enough to be Giles’s great-grandfather and if he wanted a father figure, which he didn’t, he had Angel. So, it came as a complete shock to him when the human stepped between the girls, took one long look at him and enfolded him into a warm bear hug.
“I’ve been so worried about you, my boy. I’ve lost one son, I couldn’t have stood it if I lost another one.” Giles softly whispered into his ear.
It stunned Spike even further when Giles planted a fatherly kiss on his forehead. Giles considered him as a son? He was worried about losing a vampire older then him? It was the thought that the Watcher considered him part of the family is what finally broke Spike down.
Clinging to Giles, he let the gut-wrenching sobs come again, the ones he’d been holding back for the sake of the girls. He let it all come out. The girls clustered around the duo and soon the whole group, including the Watcher, were leaking all over the place.
Angel barely suppressed a growl when Giles hugged his Childe. His demon wanted to scream “Mine!” and rip Spike out of the human’s grip before he ripped Giles’s throat out. He struggled with himself, telling his demon that Spike wasn’t his, might never be his. Besides, Cordy would never forgive him for getting the lobby floors bloody.
The Seer saved him from doing something totally stupid and embarrassing. Putting all the guys to work, they took all of the luggage up to the rooms and Angel wondered where to put Giles. No way in hell would he put the human in with Spike and he cringed at the surge of jealousy he felt. Giles wasn’t interested that way in the bleached blond, that much Angel knew. So it was completely irrational that he wanted to protect Spike’s virtue from Giles’s advances by ripping the human’s head off. Although, it was a very pleasant image for his demon.
In the end, the sisters agreed to share a room and Giles was settled into one of the pink rooms. The witches quickly caught onto Spike’s plans for them. When he told them to try to keep the sex noises down, shy Tara just blushed and an exasperated Willow rolled her eyes and mockly glared at him. Spike just gave them both a leering grin and suggestively wiggled his eyebrows.
That whole week was spent in remembering Xander and the good times they’d all had. They split their time between the four rooms; lounging on the beds, talking, laughing, and more then once, crying in each other’s arms.
Giles and the girls did manage to do the one thing Angel hadn’t been able to do. They got Spike to leave the hotel. Not taking no for an answer, they badgered, bribed, and threatened the vampire into going out to a nice restaurant for dinner. Spike stuck close to Buffy and Giles whenever a large human male was near. The Watcher was sad to note that the small vampire was still afraid to be alone in a room full of strange humans. He knew that the vampire might be doing better now, but he still had a long and difficult journey of life ahead of him. He reminded himself to speak privately to Angel about it.
That week wasn’t just spent in a carefree mood. Occasionally the depression crept up on Spike, making him silent and withdrawn from his beloved family. At these times, when they couldn’t tease him out of the mood, they left him alone for awhile, knowing that he still needed time to heal. Well, they almost left him alone. At least one of the girls, or Giles, would stay with him, silently rubbing circles on the thin back as Spike laid in a miserable huddled ball on the bed. Thankfully, those moods only lasted a few hours and then Spike was back up and around, laughing and talking again.
The one year anniversary of Xander’s death finally arrived. They spent that whole day in Spike’s room, piled up on his bed and drinking toasts to the picture. Except for Dawn and Tara, the whole group got drunk and told Xander stories until they passed out. When they weren’t drinking, they were busy crying in each other’s arms. The bed became a soggy, drunken mess of people and Spike felt like Xander would’ve wanted it that way. Spike finally told the real reason why Anya had left.
It seems that when Xander brought an injured Spike home after that demon tried to slice and dice the vampire, he’d been bedded down on the sofa. Anya had been asked to watch over the injured blond while Xander went to work. Anya went shopping instead, leaving Spike still unconscious on the sofa. Spike woke up and, in the then typical Spike-mode, started to clean the apartment. He started and ended in the bathroom. Xander had found him hours later, unconscious and bleeding on the bathroom floor, a pile of cleaning products beside him.
Spike had woken up hours later, in Xander’s bed, with the two humans arguing in the living room. Xander was angry that Anya had left Spike alone and Anya had countered that since Spike had cleaned the Summers’ home, why not theirs? Xander blew up at that. Spike was a friend, an injured friend, and they weren’t about to take advantaged of someone in his condition. Anya had demanded that he chose between a disgusting vampire or her. Spike heard nothing but silence, and then there was the sound of a slamming door.
Spike pretended to sleep when he heard Xander open the bedroom door. He stayed still as the human walked over to him. Actually, he was so good at pretending, that he actually did fall asleep with Xander watching over him. When he finally woke up hours later, it was to the sight of Xander asleep on the chair next to the bed, one warm hand holding his. Spike confessed to the others that it was the first time in a long time that he felt well and truly safe.
That brought a fresh bout of tears from all of them. Willow vowed to find Anya and kick her ex-demon butt. And then she passed out. Not long after that, one human male, vampire male and the long surviving Slayer, finally passed out for the last time. Tara and Dawn tucked them in and then joined the mass of tangled bodies, Xander’s picture still clutched in Spike’s arms.
The other occupants of the hotel tip-toed around the walking wounded the next day. Angel in particular had a sensitive sympathy for the hung-over gang. As they say, been there, done that, threw up on the tee-shirt.
Giles spent time talking at length with Angel. He told the dark haired vampire as much about his observations of Spike’s behavior as he could. Angel hadn’t known about his Childe’s strong fear of strangers, particularly larger males, and it made him all the more angry at the Initiative.
Dawn had promised Clem that she would go on one of those movie tours and take lots of pictures for the wrinkled demon. So, one sunny afternoon, the whole hotel, minus the Englishmen and vampires, set off on one of the more popular tours.
Angel hunted for Spike while most of the humans were gone. Giles and Wesley had barricaded themselves in the library, researching some lost prophecy that the older Englishman had come across. Angel hadn’t seen much of his Childe in the last few days, the blond was usually in the company of one Sunnydaler or another. The vampire wanted to know about Spike’s final plans. Was he going back to Sunnydale with the others or was he staying? Angel hoped with his whole being that the younger vampire would stay.
Angel had begun to grow concerned when he couldn’t find Spike in any of the bedrooms nor in the kitchen. It was daylight and Spike didn’t know where the sewer access were, so where the hell was he? He glanced into the training room and was about to search another floor when he spotted a movement off to the side. There, in the shadows, laid Spike. He was in a tight ball, shivering and clutching his head. A ball of dread formed in the pit of Angel’s stomach. He was finally seeing what a chip malfunction was doing to his Childe. He quickly crossed the room and knelt before the hurting vampire. Spike’s face was even paler, if that was possible, and screwed up tight in agony. Harsh breaths escaped the clinched teeth in a slight whimper.
Spike was trying to ride out the pain. God, it felt like he grabbed an exposed wire bare handed while standing in water. He couldn’t move without pain, hell, he couldn’t even think without agony shooting throughout his entire body. He could only hope that it wouldn’t last long this time and that no one saw him. He didn’t want to worry anyone with his problem. Suddenly something hard and heavy slammed into his shoulder with a teeth jarring rattle. Spike let out one agonizing, high pitched cry before he lost consciousness.
T.B.C.