Suki Blue Fiction

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Spike kicked out at an abandoned soda can and counted the seconds until it fell back down from the sky with a clank, rattle, roll.

Eight seconds. Not quite a personal record, but the night was young and the trash was plentiful.

Wow, what a life. Or unlife, rather.

Christ, it wasn’t even that. Thanks to the piece of government hardware that was stuck in his brain, it wasn’t even a half-unlife. He wasn’t living, he wasn’t even existing – at least not in the way a Master Vampire should.

And to top it all off, Sunnydale was duller than week old dishwater.

It was a Hellmouth, for pity’s sake! Where was the slaughtering and sacrificing?!

Where was all the good old fashioned blood-letting? Why weren’t there any humans fleeing in terror? Where were all the witches and demons and devilish pixies and ten foot tall chicken monsters?

It was all the Slayer’s fault!

Suddenly overwhelmed with understandable rage and contempt, Spike pulled back his leg and kicked the nearest piece of particularly large trash.

Except that it wasn’t trash. It least it hadn’t been before the assault.

The poor defenceless fire hydrant flew from its usual spot and dived over the park fence while the ground sprung a serious leak and drowned everything within fifty yards.

Spike clutched his foot and screamed. “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!”

A voice echoed, “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!” and Spike looked up to see one of the Slayer’s friends, wide-eyed, open-mouthed and soaking wet.

“I knew there was a reason I hated you!” Xander shouted from beneath the worst of the water torrent. “Aside from the whole bloodsucking, murdering thing. And don’t think I don’t know it was you that stole my lamp!”

“Harris,” Spike greeted with a sneer, a growl and a grimace. The grimace was probably more due to his throbbing foot. Oh, and the freezing cold water that was pounding down on top of him “Always a displeasure.”

“Yeah, same to you, buddy.” Xander’s eyelashes fluttered against the onslaught of the water and his breathing hitched up a notch as his body temperature dropped dramatically. He began panting and developing hypothermia. “What the hell did you think you were doing?!”

The vampire-shaped Spikecicle pointed a shaking finger at Xander and yelled, “Minding me own business, that’s what I was doing! But no, you poxy humans have to come along and get in my way!”

“That wasn’t a human!” Xander yelled back. “It was a fire hydrant!”

“I was talking about those bloody soldier gits! There I was, innocently stalking, and ZAP! I’m down!”

“Are you expecting sympathy here?!” Xander asked incredulously. “Try it when I’m not soaked to the skin and about to catch killer flu!”

“You don’t know the pain I went through!” Spike continued, stabbing his finger at his own chest. “They did things to me! Terrible things! Fuck, the pain! You don’t know the pain they caused me!”

Spike’s voice shook and Xander was stunned into silence. Temporary silence. Of course. “I…I…I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

The water poured down Spike’s face. He lowered his head and ran his fingers through his hair. When he looked back up into Xander’s guilt ridden face he grinned like the Cheshire Cat after a game of Mousetrap. “Only joking.”

Xander’s body tensed and he clenched his fists. His lips pressed into a hard line and his brow furrowed above hard, unamused eyes. At least, that’s how he wanted to picture himself at that exact moment. In reality, his lips had turned blue and his body trembled like freshly made jello. “You…evil, sadistic…police car!”

“Yeah?!” Spike challenged. “Well, you’re a…eh?”

Xander pointed as best he could, considering his whole body was doing The Jig of The Cold, Wet Man. “Police car! Oh, my god, we’re gonna get arrested. This is all your…!” The rest of the sentence was cut off as Spike leapt/limped into action and dragged him away.

“Bloody hell. Quick, over the top!” Spike yelled.

Xander eyed the fence and the park beyond. “I can’t jump that!”

“Then climb it, you prat,” Spike said through clenched teeth.

“I can’t climb that! Firstly, I’m soaking wet and weigh twice my normal body weight and secondly, I forgot to bring my climbing gear!!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” With a roll of his eyes and a wet expression, Spike scooped Xander up like baby and flung him over the fence. At the thud-squelch-ow-mutter, Spike coiled up like a spring and boinged over the fence, landing on his feet next to a fallen and very hacked off looking Xander.

“Have I mentioned yet today how much I hate you?” Xander asked from his puddle.

The lights from the police car flashed and cast a blinking glow that would have been almost romantic apart from the fact that there was no romance and that Xander was staring up at Spike with a deadly expression.

Xander raised a twig. “I’m not afraid to use this,” he warned.

“You wanna get arrested?” Spike asked.

Xander dripped and thought about it. “Maybe I do. Shit, no.”

And that was the moment that Spike noticed. Sopping wet and covered in mud, Xander looked absolutely munchable. In a nibbly, kissy, touchy-feely sort of way. Spike held out his hand. “Come on then, luv. Let’s outrun the fuzz.”

“Fuzz? I think I had that on my chin when I turned fifteen.” Xander reached up and took the offered hand anyway, grimacing as mud sandwiched between their palms with a farty raspberry noise.

They ran.

And ran and ran and ran and ran…

….and then ran some more, unnecessarily.

“Hey! Non-superpowered human, here,” Xander panted. “Any chance we can stop or is this your clever way of killing me without the chip firing?”

And didn’t that make the light bulb above Spike’s head go ping? He’d save it for someone else. A different fate was awaiting one Xander Harris.

Spike spun and Xander found himself with his back against a tree. “Uh, watcha doing?”

Spike’s eyes flickered yellow. They often did that during hay fever season. “Ever kissed a bloke?” he asked. He smeared a globule of mud off Xander’s face. Spike liked mud. It was sexy.

“Ummmmm,” Xander replied because what else could you say to a ‘friendly’ vampire that had you pinned to a tree and was looking at you like he wanted to cover you in syrup. Or possibly mud.

One corner of Spike’s mouth lifted in a mischievous smile and Xander was positive he saw a fang and a ’ting’.

It was at that moment that the clouds in the night sky drifted and the moonlight illuminated Spike’s hair until it shone like a supernova.

“Wow.” Xander really liked blonds.

And so it was written – or it would have been if someone had thought to bring some paper, and a pen would have been really handy – that Spike and Xander kissed for the first time.

It was sweet and slow, like a shallow tide lapping the shore or the gentle caress of the sun’s rays sweeping over a hill.

Then it was belts off, trousers down and shagging against an ancient tree.

And so then it would have been written – that damn pen and paper problem again – that it was the start of much snarking and inappropriate touching in public places.

A wronged vampire in a fabulous leather coat and a mouthy Slayerette with a questionable taste in boyfriends. Who would have thought?

We would!!!


The End.