BtVS Fic: If I Can’t Dance (Spike/Xander, R, Chapter 3)
I'm very excited to have chapter 3 of If I Can’t Dance ready for today! I'm really enjoying finally posting and writing this story, so hope you're also enjoying! :D
Title: If I Can’t Dance
Author: cordelianne
Chapter: 3
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,742
Disclaimer: Sadly not mine, Joss own them.
Summary: Set in season 5 and basically follows canon, although there will be twists and changes along the way. This chapter takes place before "Out of My Mind."
He’s ambling. Okay, Xander doesn’t exactly know what ambling is. It just sounds like a fun thing to do, to amble. He figures it’s in the same family as the saunter, not that he really knows what that is either. In fact, considering how much time he’s spent wearing out his sneakers in the Sunnydale cemeteries, you’d think he’d be an expert in all forms of walking by now but not so much.
A/N: Written for the lynnevitational, thanks to germaine_pet for hosting this shindig!
Thanks go out to the awesome savoytruffle and spookymonkey for their invaluable pre-reading, betaing and support. Special thanks to spookymonkey for finding the time to beta while in the midst of stressful moving preparation. Any mistakes are mine (and you're always welcome to point out my mistakes).
All chapters can be found in tags here or in memories here.
If I Can’t Dance
by Cordelianne
CHAPTER THREE
He’s ambling.
Okay, Xander doesn’t exactly know what ambling is. It just sounds like a fun thing to do, to amble. He figures it’s in the same family as the saunter, not that he really knows what that is either. In fact, considering how much time he’s spent wearing out his sneakers in the Sunnydale cemeteries, you’d think he’d be an expert in all forms of walking by now but not so much.
Fleeing he knows.
See also: escaping, taking off, and the ever favorite running away.
Add in a bit of terrified for his life, and that covers a significant amount of Xander Harris’ expertise.
Back to the ambling which he suspects he’s failing at since nothing has jumped out from behind a tombstone and attacked him. Maybe the demons have gotten smart and have figured out that no one ambles through a graveyard alone in the middle of the night - they know it’s a trap.
Xander really hopes it is a trap. Sure Buffy has his back but if she’s distracted by vampire slayage then he’s relying on Spike. And Spike’s definitely up there on the not-reliable list. In fact the only reliable list he’d put Spike on is the “stand and watch Xander die, while laughing and maybe eating popcorn” one. Mmm, popcorn. He should start bringing snacks on patrol. If he’d brought a bag of chips he could be sitting and eating it and letting the vampires come to him.
But there would be a high chance of choking with food around and Xander isn’t sure he remembers how to do the Heimlich maneuver. And he’s definitely not up for doing it on himself like people in movies do. He’s just not that tough.
Maybe he’ll just try the sitting part of the plan.
That plan’s going fine, if just as boring as the walking one, but he’s expending less energy so it’s all good in Xander’s books. And he is bored if the idea of reading a book sounds good right about now. Mental note: don’t tell Giles, he’ll just expect you to read more.
There’s a rustling behind him and he resists the urge to turn around or move. He imagines being so motionless he’s Han-Solo-frozen-in-Carbonite-still. Come to think of it, Xander could really use Han’s easily accessible blaster right now instead of the stake that’s tucked into his belt. He bets a blaster would kill a vamp because it would be like shooting them with fire.
And he’d have no problem firing first - damn Lucas and his continual changes to canon.
As he’s yanked up by some very strong thing, Xander reflects that maybe he should spend more time acting like Han instead of geeking out over Star Wars. This is why he’s never the cool guy.
“Help!” Xander struggles, lashing out with elbows and feet. “A little help here!”
And yeah, not so Han-like.
He breathes a sigh of relief as his attacker is knocked down, then winces at his own tumble. There are black boots and the dusting whoosh. Xander rubs his elbow and pushes himself up.
But there’s no Spike.
No one actually.
He catches sight of something - someone? - disappearing behind a nearby sarcophagus, and he’s still staring at the unhelpful granite - or whatever stone they use on sarcophagi these days - when Spike steps up beside him.
“Crying wolf, Harris? Save your frightened song for when there’s really something wrong.”
He does a double take, which is kinda cool because he never gets to do them. Did Spike just rhyme? But also - and more important - what the hell is he talking about? Xander decides to share that question.
There’s a cool hand on his forehead, and it doesn’t feel that weird - which is weird. “Not running a fever. Just crazy I guess.” Spike shrugs, then speaks like he’s talking to a five year old, “Why. Did. You. Call. For. Help? There’s nothing here.”
“You mean you didn’t dust that vamp just now?” Xander looks around and back at the mute and extremely unhelpful sarcophagus.
Spike snorts. “Don’t taunt me with that coulda been a contender bullshit. Do you see me dusting any vamps? Buffy’s gotten all the action tonight. I’ve caused about as much violence as her kid sister has.”
“I wouldn’t underestimate Dawn,” Xander says absently, his mind on the matter at hand. “I thought…” The hamster in Xander’s brain finally spins its wheel in a useful way and alerts him to the fact that his mysterious savior had exited in the direction opposite to the one Spike had just appeared from. And unless Spike had magically developed the ability to apparate - which could happen on a hellmouth, and he should really check with Willow about that…
He grabs the hamster before it abandons the wheel and directs it back to the spinning at hand.
The point is, either it wasn’t Spike or he’s stepped through a portal and into a French farce.
Which seems doubtful.
“So who did rescue me then?”
He’s not sure if Spike’s blank look is a “Don’t know” or a “Don’t care.” Possibly both, or maybe just a “Not listening.” The lighting of the cigarette isn’t much help - could mean “Bored” or just plain “Addicted”. And Xander’s a little creeped out that he just spent a good twenty seconds trying to analyze Spike. Clearly he has too much free time on his hands, and his right hand can definitely attest to that.
And whoa, that was not where his thoughts were supposed to go.
He glares at the traitorous hamster - he’s firing it and getting another one.
Maybe two.
And possibly a new wheel dedicated entirely to repression.
Repression twenty-four-seven, possibly with beer. Or not considering what happened last time he got to know the beer.
Xander starts when he realizes Spike is staring. Intense gaze and cocked head, lifted eyebrow and what could actually be a frown flickering across his face. It’s a strange and new experience to be the subject of Spike’s scrutiny. Xander looks down at his sneakers. He should get new ones, these ones are being held together by sheer force of will at this point and it’s -
The back of Xander’s shirt is grabbed.
“That’s it,” Spike says, as he drags Xander off. “You’ve gone round the bend. Slayer’ll want to know.”
Xander seizes onto the one thing that makes sense. “Buffy!”
***
“Where’s Buffy?” Xander looks around.
Willow nods in the direction of the restrooms and then leans over toward Xander’s ear. “Do you think she’s doing okay?”
“What? Why?”
“It’s just - well, she’s really into school which isn’t bad. It’s good!” Willow bites her lip. “She seems more stressed than usual, though. I know all this talk of a serial killer in Sunnydale has her on edge.”
Xander frowns. “But the murders don’t seem demonic. Just regular run-of-the-mill human serial killer stuff.”
“True, but it is the hellmouth. It can’t be a coincidence. That’s Buffy’s thinking and she’s not normally wrong.”
“But this is the Buffster we’re talking about, she handles this stuff with a smile on her face and a bounce in her step,” Xander says. “Not that she enjoys it, just, you know, cause she doesn’t let it get her down.”
Willow nods. “You know, maybe it’s something with Riley.”
Xander takes a gulp of his beer, forgetting his plan for small sips. “What about Riley?”
“I don’t know.” She twirls her straw around in her drink. “There’s nothing I can put my finger on. I just get this vibe.”
Yeah, Xander has more than a vibe, he has first-hand evidence from the man in question but it’s probably not the kind of thing he should share. “You may be on to something, Will,” he says. “So let’s make this a fun Bronze night for Buffy.”
“Yes! This’ll be the best girl’s night - I mean, best best friend’s night out ever!” Willow says, a guilty look on her face.
“Great, thanks. That’s just what my masculinity needed.”
“Willow’s helping with masculinity stuff?” Buffy asks, as she flops down in the third seat.
“Not so much with the helping.” Xander says, shooting a grin at Willow. “So, what’ve you been up to?” Buffy raises an eyebrow. “I mean, not now. Boy, do I not need those details. But how’s the slaying going? And do you have any leads on the mysterious vamp killer?”
“The usual to the first and nada to the second.” Buffy shakes her head. “No further sightings. Although I have run into Spike a few times, and the fact that I just reported that should give you a sense of the extreme lack of interesting things to report.”
“Yeah, Spike’s been around a lot lately,” Xander muses. It’s starting to feel like he can’t turn a corner without running into Spike - literally when he was leaving the Magic Box last night. “He must be really bored.”
Buffy tilts her head into the patented Buffy Summers Think Mode. “It’s funny. If you were a girl, I’d say he likes you.”
Xander’s beer sprays the table as he chokes on lager and laughter. “That’s just - oh god… I have no words for the crazy of what you just said.”
“I don’t know, I don’t think it’s that crazy,” Willow says. “He’s actually been kinda helpful to you lately.”
He’s still torn between hysterics and freaking out. “But… it’s Spike, with the evil and stalking and…”
“I think stalking may be romantic to Spike,” Willow says, a thoughtful look on her face.
Buffy laughed. “Or, you know, he really is bored. Let’s not make more of this than it is. It is Spike. He’s not known for subtlety.”
Xander’s surprised to not feel immediate relief but reassures himself that it’s probably because it was so hard to believe in the first place. “Yeah, the last thing I need is some chipped vampire hounding my every step. That will not improve life for Xander Harris.”
***
At home later, feeling pleasantly buzzed and not a drunken basket case, he can’t shake the feeling that he’s being watched. Peering out the window he swears the moving shadows aren’t just from the swaying trees.
Xander triple checks all his doors and windows just in case. All that talk of a possible human serial killer and potential Spike stalkage has him paranoid.
Still, he feels unsettled - for lack of a better word - and doesn’t close his eyes until sometime after 3 a.m.
Continues here.
Title: If I Can’t Dance
Author: cordelianne
Chapter: 3
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,742
Disclaimer: Sadly not mine, Joss own them.
Summary: Set in season 5 and basically follows canon, although there will be twists and changes along the way. This chapter takes place before "Out of My Mind."
He’s ambling. Okay, Xander doesn’t exactly know what ambling is. It just sounds like a fun thing to do, to amble. He figures it’s in the same family as the saunter, not that he really knows what that is either. In fact, considering how much time he’s spent wearing out his sneakers in the Sunnydale cemeteries, you’d think he’d be an expert in all forms of walking by now but not so much.
A/N: Written for the lynnevitational, thanks to germaine_pet for hosting this shindig!
Thanks go out to the awesome savoytruffle and spookymonkey for their invaluable pre-reading, betaing and support. Special thanks to spookymonkey for finding the time to beta while in the midst of stressful moving preparation. Any mistakes are mine (and you're always welcome to point out my mistakes).
All chapters can be found in tags here or in memories here.
If I Can’t Dance
by Cordelianne
CHAPTER THREE
He’s ambling.
Okay, Xander doesn’t exactly know what ambling is. It just sounds like a fun thing to do, to amble. He figures it’s in the same family as the saunter, not that he really knows what that is either. In fact, considering how much time he’s spent wearing out his sneakers in the Sunnydale cemeteries, you’d think he’d be an expert in all forms of walking by now but not so much.
Fleeing he knows.
See also: escaping, taking off, and the ever favorite running away.
Add in a bit of terrified for his life, and that covers a significant amount of Xander Harris’ expertise.
Back to the ambling which he suspects he’s failing at since nothing has jumped out from behind a tombstone and attacked him. Maybe the demons have gotten smart and have figured out that no one ambles through a graveyard alone in the middle of the night - they know it’s a trap.
Xander really hopes it is a trap. Sure Buffy has his back but if she’s distracted by vampire slayage then he’s relying on Spike. And Spike’s definitely up there on the not-reliable list. In fact the only reliable list he’d put Spike on is the “stand and watch Xander die, while laughing and maybe eating popcorn” one. Mmm, popcorn. He should start bringing snacks on patrol. If he’d brought a bag of chips he could be sitting and eating it and letting the vampires come to him.
But there would be a high chance of choking with food around and Xander isn’t sure he remembers how to do the Heimlich maneuver. And he’s definitely not up for doing it on himself like people in movies do. He’s just not that tough.
Maybe he’ll just try the sitting part of the plan.
That plan’s going fine, if just as boring as the walking one, but he’s expending less energy so it’s all good in Xander’s books. And he is bored if the idea of reading a book sounds good right about now. Mental note: don’t tell Giles, he’ll just expect you to read more.
There’s a rustling behind him and he resists the urge to turn around or move. He imagines being so motionless he’s Han-Solo-frozen-in-Carbonite-still. Come to think of it, Xander could really use Han’s easily accessible blaster right now instead of the stake that’s tucked into his belt. He bets a blaster would kill a vamp because it would be like shooting them with fire.
And he’d have no problem firing first - damn Lucas and his continual changes to canon.
As he’s yanked up by some very strong thing, Xander reflects that maybe he should spend more time acting like Han instead of geeking out over Star Wars. This is why he’s never the cool guy.
“Help!” Xander struggles, lashing out with elbows and feet. “A little help here!”
And yeah, not so Han-like.
He breathes a sigh of relief as his attacker is knocked down, then winces at his own tumble. There are black boots and the dusting whoosh. Xander rubs his elbow and pushes himself up.
But there’s no Spike.
No one actually.
He catches sight of something - someone? - disappearing behind a nearby sarcophagus, and he’s still staring at the unhelpful granite - or whatever stone they use on sarcophagi these days - when Spike steps up beside him.
“Crying wolf, Harris? Save your frightened song for when there’s really something wrong.”
He does a double take, which is kinda cool because he never gets to do them. Did Spike just rhyme? But also - and more important - what the hell is he talking about? Xander decides to share that question.
There’s a cool hand on his forehead, and it doesn’t feel that weird - which is weird. “Not running a fever. Just crazy I guess.” Spike shrugs, then speaks like he’s talking to a five year old, “Why. Did. You. Call. For. Help? There’s nothing here.”
“You mean you didn’t dust that vamp just now?” Xander looks around and back at the mute and extremely unhelpful sarcophagus.
Spike snorts. “Don’t taunt me with that coulda been a contender bullshit. Do you see me dusting any vamps? Buffy’s gotten all the action tonight. I’ve caused about as much violence as her kid sister has.”
“I wouldn’t underestimate Dawn,” Xander says absently, his mind on the matter at hand. “I thought…” The hamster in Xander’s brain finally spins its wheel in a useful way and alerts him to the fact that his mysterious savior had exited in the direction opposite to the one Spike had just appeared from. And unless Spike had magically developed the ability to apparate - which could happen on a hellmouth, and he should really check with Willow about that…
He grabs the hamster before it abandons the wheel and directs it back to the spinning at hand.
The point is, either it wasn’t Spike or he’s stepped through a portal and into a French farce.
Which seems doubtful.
“So who did rescue me then?”
He’s not sure if Spike’s blank look is a “Don’t know” or a “Don’t care.” Possibly both, or maybe just a “Not listening.” The lighting of the cigarette isn’t much help - could mean “Bored” or just plain “Addicted”. And Xander’s a little creeped out that he just spent a good twenty seconds trying to analyze Spike. Clearly he has too much free time on his hands, and his right hand can definitely attest to that.
And whoa, that was not where his thoughts were supposed to go.
He glares at the traitorous hamster - he’s firing it and getting another one.
Maybe two.
And possibly a new wheel dedicated entirely to repression.
Repression twenty-four-seven, possibly with beer. Or not considering what happened last time he got to know the beer.
Xander starts when he realizes Spike is staring. Intense gaze and cocked head, lifted eyebrow and what could actually be a frown flickering across his face. It’s a strange and new experience to be the subject of Spike’s scrutiny. Xander looks down at his sneakers. He should get new ones, these ones are being held together by sheer force of will at this point and it’s -
The back of Xander’s shirt is grabbed.
“That’s it,” Spike says, as he drags Xander off. “You’ve gone round the bend. Slayer’ll want to know.”
Xander seizes onto the one thing that makes sense. “Buffy!”
***
“Where’s Buffy?” Xander looks around.
Willow nods in the direction of the restrooms and then leans over toward Xander’s ear. “Do you think she’s doing okay?”
“What? Why?”
“It’s just - well, she’s really into school which isn’t bad. It’s good!” Willow bites her lip. “She seems more stressed than usual, though. I know all this talk of a serial killer in Sunnydale has her on edge.”
Xander frowns. “But the murders don’t seem demonic. Just regular run-of-the-mill human serial killer stuff.”
“True, but it is the hellmouth. It can’t be a coincidence. That’s Buffy’s thinking and she’s not normally wrong.”
“But this is the Buffster we’re talking about, she handles this stuff with a smile on her face and a bounce in her step,” Xander says. “Not that she enjoys it, just, you know, cause she doesn’t let it get her down.”
Willow nods. “You know, maybe it’s something with Riley.”
Xander takes a gulp of his beer, forgetting his plan for small sips. “What about Riley?”
“I don’t know.” She twirls her straw around in her drink. “There’s nothing I can put my finger on. I just get this vibe.”
Yeah, Xander has more than a vibe, he has first-hand evidence from the man in question but it’s probably not the kind of thing he should share. “You may be on to something, Will,” he says. “So let’s make this a fun Bronze night for Buffy.”
“Yes! This’ll be the best girl’s night - I mean, best best friend’s night out ever!” Willow says, a guilty look on her face.
“Great, thanks. That’s just what my masculinity needed.”
“Willow’s helping with masculinity stuff?” Buffy asks, as she flops down in the third seat.
“Not so much with the helping.” Xander says, shooting a grin at Willow. “So, what’ve you been up to?” Buffy raises an eyebrow. “I mean, not now. Boy, do I not need those details. But how’s the slaying going? And do you have any leads on the mysterious vamp killer?”
“The usual to the first and nada to the second.” Buffy shakes her head. “No further sightings. Although I have run into Spike a few times, and the fact that I just reported that should give you a sense of the extreme lack of interesting things to report.”
“Yeah, Spike’s been around a lot lately,” Xander muses. It’s starting to feel like he can’t turn a corner without running into Spike - literally when he was leaving the Magic Box last night. “He must be really bored.”
Buffy tilts her head into the patented Buffy Summers Think Mode. “It’s funny. If you were a girl, I’d say he likes you.”
Xander’s beer sprays the table as he chokes on lager and laughter. “That’s just - oh god… I have no words for the crazy of what you just said.”
“I don’t know, I don’t think it’s that crazy,” Willow says. “He’s actually been kinda helpful to you lately.”
He’s still torn between hysterics and freaking out. “But… it’s Spike, with the evil and stalking and…”
“I think stalking may be romantic to Spike,” Willow says, a thoughtful look on her face.
Buffy laughed. “Or, you know, he really is bored. Let’s not make more of this than it is. It is Spike. He’s not known for subtlety.”
Xander’s surprised to not feel immediate relief but reassures himself that it’s probably because it was so hard to believe in the first place. “Yeah, the last thing I need is some chipped vampire hounding my every step. That will not improve life for Xander Harris.”
***
At home later, feeling pleasantly buzzed and not a drunken basket case, he can’t shake the feeling that he’s being watched. Peering out the window he swears the moving shadows aren’t just from the swaying trees.
Xander triple checks all his doors and windows just in case. All that talk of a possible human serial killer and potential Spike stalkage has him paranoid.
Still, he feels unsettled - for lack of a better word - and doesn’t close his eyes until sometime after 3 a.m.
Continues here.