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Chapter 20
Xander peeled his heavy head
from his pillow and stared one-eyed at the clock until it wobbled into
focus. He groaned and rolled onto his back. “Good morning, ceiling. How
are you this fine Monday morning? Tired? Me too. Five more minutes,
then.” Flinging the quilt over his head, Xander shuffled one hundred and
eighty degrees onto his belly and fell instantly asleep.
“Xander!” But not for long. Another groan and Xander suddenly had a brilliant idea. “Xander!” He would pretend to be asleep. Ingenious! “XANDER!” Xander flung off the covers and sat bolt upright. Did his mother have to yell so loud? “WHAT?!?!” “Are you still asleep, young man?!” “NO!!!” Okay, so perhaps pretending to be asleep would have worked better if he’d actually gotten to the pretending part. “Then get your butt in that shower pronto and get down here!” Oh, good, his mother was in one of her moods. That would make the dreaded Monday morning that little bit harder to bear. Just lovely. Muttering, cursing under his breath and with a whole bag of chips on his shoulder, Xander got out of bed and stomped, with feeling, out of his bedroom, snagging his towel from the floor along the way. “I WAS ALREADY UP!” he yelled when he passed the stairs. The bathroom door shook when he shut it. “If I ever have kids, which is seriously doubtful, I’ll let them get up whenever they want,” Xander promised while he relieved himself. “And once I’m Ruler of the Universe I’m making Monday mornings illegal. Punishable by death.” Xander looked at himself in the mirror. “You look like shit. Thanks, so do you.” He rubbed his face with his hands and turned around to switch the shower on. While he waited for the water to heat up to any temperature above freezing, Xander took the opportunity to indulge in his routine of the early morning stare at nothing. He felt his eyes glaze over a little while his mind cleared of the little it had in it. Then, it all came rushing back to him. Spike. Spike was back. Suddenly not caring what temperature the water was, Xander stepped in the shower. He gasped when an arctic waterfall hit him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Spike was back and – and this was the best bit – Xander was going to see him again tonight. Spike was evil, blah, blah. Xander had read everything there was to know about William the Bloody and he was fully aware of what he was capable of. Spike had killed people and would kill again. Definitely. So why couldn’t Xander put a stake through him? Or at the very least get Buffy to put a stake though him? It was simple, really, Xander thought as the water started to turn lukewarm. He was a teenager. He was the kid that everyone said he was. He wasn’t supposed to make big decisions or fully know right from wrong. He was supposed to fuck up; it was expected of him. And who was he to disappoint? Clearly, he needed a guiding hand. Speaking of which, what exactly was it that Spike wanted from him? And all this no killing business, was that the truth? Would Spike abstain like he said he would? If that really was the case then Xander was actually doing the population at large a huge favour! Xander’s eyelids felt less heavy now, but his bones still ached like a bitch. Why couldn’t weekends be three days? It wasn’t fair!! “XANDER!!” “I’M COMING!!!!” Jeez, he was only a little behind schedule. And it was only school. It wasn’t like it actually mattered. He was planning to be late anyway. He had someone to check up on. Eventually the water went back to freezing and Xander admitted defeat. He picked up the pace and went back to his bedroom to dress. Pulling out the first things he could find in his drawers, Xander put on red and green tartan pants and a blue long-sleeved t-shirt which was just this side of too big. He roughly towel-dried his hair, pulled on some socks, grabbed his sneakers and school bag and hurried down the stairs. “You are going to be late.” Xander bit back the urge to say I’m always late. “I know.” “You shouldn’t go to bed so late. What time did you get in?” Okay, why was it that parents always made you even later by trying to point out your lateness? That was parent logic for you. “I don’t know. Is there breakfast?” Xander’s mother pointed to the table. “I made you toast. It’s cold now.” And there was another thing. Why put toast in the toaster for toasting reasons when the person due to eat it was still in the shower? Now he was going to have to choke it down or suffer a telling off. He sat at the table and chewed on the first slice. “Honestly, you take after your father.” Xander wrinkled his nose up and swallowed. “Please. I’m trying to eat.” His mother ignored the comment. “I practically had to kick him out of bed this morning. Goodness knows he’s got this promotion but does he even bother to…” Xander tuned out the rest and checked his school bag for the essentials. Folder, book, homework, pencil case, Friday’s uneaten – euw – lunch, two bars of chocolate and a bag of chips. Cool. “…is all I ask. Don’t you dare ever treat a woman like that, Alexander!” “Not gonna be a problem, Mom.” Xander snagged the last piece of toast and hopped up off the chair. He grabbed his skateboard, which was propped next to the kitchen door, and quickly kissed his mother’s cheek. “Gotta go, gotta go.” “Bye, honey. And don’t be late home. I’m doing lasagne.” “Okay. Gotcha. Bye.” “And invite Willow one day. I haven’t seen her in so long.” “Yep. Willow. Got it. Bye.” “And don’t be late.” “Yes, Mom, you already said that; I got it. I’m gonna be really late if you don’t just let me go. Bye.” “Bye, bye, sweetie.” Xander rolled his eyes and got out as quickly as possible. Life would be so much easier without parents. ** It was only a small detour, and who would really give a crap if he missed first period? Oh, Willow. Xander tucked his skateboard under his arm and approached the mansion as quietly as he could. He silently cursed the twigs that snapped beneath his feet and the loose piece of stone that caused him to stumble and drop the skateboard with a clatter. But apart from that, he was pretty quiet. Angel’s mansion wasn’t a place he’d visited often. Once, maybe twice, and only because he’d had to. Like now. Spike had said he would be staying with Angel, and Xander hadn’t been, and still wasn’t, sure how he felt about that. Xander pretty much hated Angel. Angel was dark and mysterious and had an extraordinary ability to attract a flock of admirers without even trying. There were times when Xander looked in the mirror and thought yeah, not bad, but those times were few and far between. Generally, Xander only saw a cross between an ugly duckling and a new born giraffe – all gangly legs and greatly lacking any sort of grace. Angel was the swan. “Bastard,” Xander muttered as he snuck across the main room. Really, he had no idea where he was going, and his logic was screaming that he was more likely to walk in on Angel whacking off than actually find Spike snugly asleep and dreaming peacefully. No, in all likelihood, Spike probably wasn’t even here. Or he was dust. Xander had a stake in his pocket and he wondered if he had the balls to dust Angel while he was sleeping. The answer? If Angel had dusted Spike? You betcha. But then again, how would he know? What if Spike wasn’t here? How would Xander know if Spike was holed up after a night of bloodsucking or if he’d actually come here and met his end at Angel’s hand? Angel was pretty dumb but surely he was smart enough to sweep up after himself. Still, hopefully Spike was here just like he said he would be. But it wouldn’t hurt to check. Xander climbed a staircase that seemed to go on forever and made his way down a dark corridor. And dark was an understatement. It was an internal hallway, no outside walls except for the one at the end and if there was a window on it, it was well covered. Xander wished he’d brought a flashlight with him. The hallway was lined with doors, six or seven of them, and Xander wondered which was the right one. Which one was Spike in? Which one was Angel in? And why did he have a funny feeling there might be a clown behind one of them? Xander’s heart hammered in his chest and he leaned against the wall for a moment, trying to calm himself. Of course there weren’t any clowns. Why would Angel keep clowns in one of his bedrooms? Unless…did Angel have a clown fetish? Xander gagged at the thought and wiped at his watering eyes. There. Were. No. Clowns. It was just that he was standing in a dark, dusty, creepy old mansion and his mind was playing tricks. He needed to get back on track. At this rate, he was going to miss second and third period too. Xander hovered at the first door. This was Angel’s room, Xander decided. The evidence was clear. Firstly, the door was clean, and, considering the dust that was floating in the air and threatening to make Xander sneeze, that probably meant this door, with its brightly polished door handle, was in use. Also, the door was open and Angel was sprawled out on his bed in full view. And he was naked. And his parts were…oh…wow. Xander quietly eeped and quickly turned away. “Nice view?” Spike asked. “Jesus! U-u-unexpected view,” Xander stuttered. He could feel his face burning and he really wished Spike wouldn’t stare it him like that. “What you doing here, luv?” Spike eventually asked. “Shouldn’t you be in school?” Xander nodded and tried not to notice Spike’s bare chest and low slung, half-unbuttoned jeans. “I’m late.” Spike cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t say.” “I just thought I’d…” “Check up on me?” Spike finished. He closed in on Xander’s personal space, forcing him to back up into the wall. “Don’t trust me?” Spike’s expression was unreadable now and Xander couldn’t tell if he was annoyed, pleased or just half asleep. “Don’t trust him,” Xander whispered. He didn’t bother to look in Angel’s direction. Spike definitely looked pleased now. “Worried about me? Auw, luv. What did I do to deserve that?” Spike’s hand lifted and trailed its way down Xander’s chest. Spike’s hair was wild and crazy, sticking up in all directions, and Xander couldn’t help it; he reached up and stroked. Spike’s eyes automatically shut and he moved into the touch like a cat wanting to be petted. He held Xander’s hips and pressed against him. “Beautiful, pet.” In an instant, Xander was way past hard and horny, and he wasn’t in the least bit surprised when he found himself touching his lips to Spike’s, kissing him, hard and hot and needy. Spike pulled him away from the wall and they wrapped their arms around each other, kissing hard and breathing harder. Spike began walking them backwards and Xander had a sudden thought. If they didn’t stop now, there was a very real and very distinct possibility that he was going to have some sort of sex. Oh, my god, oh, my god, oh, my god, oh, my god, oh, my god… Xander squirmed in Spike’s arms and when he pulled away Spike let him go. “Go on, luv. Better get yourself to school. Don’t want a detention, do you?” Xander swallowed and forced himself to let go of Spike’s arm. “Sorry, yeah, I should… I mean…sorry.” “‘S okay, darlin’. You’re the one who’s gotta go to school.” Spike motioned with his head to an open door at the other end of the hall. “I get to go back to bed.” He slid his hands into his jeans. “I’ll be thinking about you.” “Okay, you’re officially evil,” Xander said. It was tempting to follow Spike back to his room. He was so hard and he wanted so much for Spike to touch him or maybe even suck him off. But what if Spike wanted more? What if Xander couldn’t stop him? His cock twitched and Xander started backing away again. There was no way he wanted that, but there was definitely something in the danger of it – in the risk. Something exciting. Something hot. “Still on for tonight?” Spike asked. Xander nodded and licked his lips. “Uh-huh. Bowling still okay?” Spike shrugged. “Reckon I can handle a few balls.” Now there was a thought that would make his school day easier. Sort of. ** Xander jogged up behind Willow and Buffy and slowed to their pace like he’d been there all along. “Somebody’s late,” Buffy commented. “Where were you?” Willow asked. “I slept in. Did I miss anything?” Both girls nodded and grinned. “Somebody put glue on Mrs Dokey’s Ruler of Shame,” Willow said. Buffy stopped at her locker. “You should have seen her trying to shake it off. It was like she was having this total spazz attack,” she said. Willow stopped with her but Xander crossed to the lockers opposite. “Oh, man, I can’t believe I missed that.” Xander hated Mrs Dokey. She was patronising and condescending and when she pointed that ruler at you, you knew you were going to spend the rest of the class feeling like a stupid loser. Xander fell victim to the ruler’s judgement at least once a week. “Did she get it off?” Willow grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “Nope. Principal Snyder had to take her to the hospital.” Xander grinned back at her, partly because the hospitalisation of a teacher was always funny and partly because he knew that Willow’s dislike of Mrs Dokey was because of him. That always gave him the warm fuzzies. “They’re going to have to take off a layer of her skin,” Willow continued. “It’s going to be really painful. Isn’t that nice?” Xander pulled a large and far-too-heavy textbook from his locker and stuffed it in his bag. “Well, I certainly feel lifted. How about you, Buff?” “Just call me pleasantly content,” Buffy said. She picked up her bag and checked her ponytail was still in place. “Biology calls. Who’s with me?” Xander raised his hand before slinging his other arm around Willow’s shoulders. “Your trusty sidekicks are ready to face the perils of Biology, and the dangers of Mr Moore’s spittle range, with you. You can count on us.” ** They sat at the back. And luckily Mr Moore stayed way out spitting distance. Which was a good considering the topic was plant life, and photosynthesis produced more than just oxygen. “You may start.” With a mildly uninterested expression that matched everybody else’s, Xander’s eyes dropped to his text book. He sighed and began reading. After ten minutes of attempting to read the four paragraphs on the page, the class was interrupted. “And what time do you call this, Mr Matthews? Hmm?” Ray Matthews. And, boy, did he look like shit. Covered in bruises and limping, Ray slowly and gingerly made his way to his seat where he carefully lowered himself. “Sorry, sir. It’s just… I feel like I’ve been hit by a car or something. I don’t know what happened.” Xander’s eyes widened. “No way,” he whispered to himself, obviously not quietly enough, he thought when Buffy looked quizzically at him. He leaned over to her. “I think Ray Matthews is a werewolf,” he said when she leaned over to meet him half way. Buffy looked over at Ray and wrinkled her nose. “He is kinda hairy. Too hairy,” she said suspiciously. “No…well, yeah, but that’s not it. Last night…” Xander started to explain. He stopped when he realised he couldn’t tell her the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. He started again. “I saw a werewolf last night. Some guy hit it with his car. I think it’s Ray Matthews.” Buffy put on her thinking face. At least, Xander was pretty sure it was her thinking face. It was quite close to her sleepy face. “Are you sure?” Xander shook his head. “No. But it’s worth checking out, right?” Buffy thought it was worth it and Giles thought the same thing. The Slaying game was all about ‘checking things out’. It wasn’t about ‘don’t be silly’. That night, armed with a tranquiliser gun and enough rope to tie up a hundred boats, Buffy and Giles went hunting. Xander was quietly, for once, proud. He’d told them he’d seen a werewolf and based on that sighting they were taking action. Surprise had been his first reaction and then he’d found himself holding his breath in case they changed their minds. No one had ever listened to him before – not like that. Of course, he could have been wrong. The animal Spike had hit was definitely a werewolf; it couldn’t have been anything else. But was that werewolf Ray Matthews? And what if it was? What the hell were they going to do with him? TBC…
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Suki Blue Fiction