Trickster´s Treat Sequel –
Janus´ Shadow 9
Right, suppose I should just be goin´ now," Spike offered as Xander turned the corner that led to the "just bad" part of time. An emaciated creature leaned against the brick wall in front of the old folks´ home, his legs and arms sprawling in a vaguely inhuman way. Maybe that´s what distracted Xander from immediately processing the comment. Either that, or his brain was slowly grinding to a halt, or more of a halt, from all the stress.
"What?" Xander jerked the car to the right and then overcompensated, swerving over the yellow line before straightening out again.
"Oi, ya drive worse than I do," Spike complained while completely ignoring the question.
"Not even," Xander snapped as he raced a yellow light. "And you aren´t going anywhere."
"Not goin´ to put you between choosing the slayer or me, been down that path." When Xander glanced over, Spike´s face had that neutral expression that never boded well, his fingers playing with an unlit cigarette.
"I´m not choosing Buffy... I didn´t choose Buffy," Xander protested, the pieces falling into place as he considered his hellcat´s habit of being tossed aside by his elders. "I won´t choose Buffy," Xander finished in a determined voice. And really, he wouldn´t. Of course, he wouldn´t betray her either, but now was not the time to try and explain that. Now he had to convince Spike that he wouldn´t repeat the mistakes of Angelus and Drusilla.
"Never said ya did. Just sayin´ that you´re goin´ to have to eventually. Time for me to take a walk before that happens. Besides, like you said, when word of the chip gets around, I´ll have a target on my back. Best if I just stay ahead of the news." Spike´s clipped tones made Xander´s chest ache, and he tightened his fists on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. Part of him wanted to pull the car over and pound into Spike until the childe couldn´t remember his own name, much less some imagined fear of being abandoned. Xander eyed the narrow front seat of the car for a half second, but really, getting arrested for public indecency wouldn´t really do anyone any good. Xander had an image of Giles coming to bail them out, and he shivered. Oh yeah, not doing that. Sex could wait until the apartment.
"We´re going to get the chip out before your back turns target." Xander said confidently.
"Seems like the only person who knows how to do that is back there, mate," Spike poked his thumb over his shoulder.
"He´s not the only person." Xander immediately snapped, but then he paused. "Okay, right now he might be the only person, but if he figured it out, I can figure something out. I just need to be figuring boy for a few days... or a few weeks. I can do this." Xander bit his tongue and concentrated on the road. A few stray drops of rain hit his windshield, and Xander could feel a homicidal rage stalking the edge of his mind. Yeah, Ethan was a sadistic son of a bitch, but Xander had really thought that a little groveling, a little inappropriate touching, and way too much money would bring the chaos mage around. Besides, Ethan should love Spike what with the blood–thirst and Spike´s habit of bringing out Xander´s own demon memories.
Xander still remembered the first time he´d gone down into the demon bazaar, lured by the chance to make enough money to move out of the basement where his parents had relegated him after one particularly nasty fight. Ethan had quickly latched onto him, claiming credit for creating the new Xander through his magic. But he didn´t need Ethan. He´d known and forgotten more in his life than Ethan ever learned. Unfortunately what he knew and remembered didn´t seem to have any answer to the problem of the chip.
"I can do this," Xander repeated softly as he hit the windshield wipers, smearing a dozen fat drops of water across the dusty glass. Spike didn´t answer, but he did make a soft snorting noise.
A group of teenagers dashed for cover from the spitting rain, and Xander nearly choked on a sudden burst of laughter. Yep, count on Sunnydale kids to run from rain but to walk down dark streets without worrying about vampires and demons and things that went bump in the night. Or more importantly, things that went grrrr in the night. Xander braked at a red light, and the sound of the door clicking didn´t even register until he watched through the streaked window as Spike strode away from the car, not even bothering to shut the door behind him.
"Fuck," Xander cursed as he threw the car into park before diving out into the suddenly brisk night air. "Spike," Xander yelled as he ran after the vampire, ignoring the VW bus that braked so hard that it slid sideways with a squeal, barely missing Xander as he dashed through the intersection.
"Spike!" Xander yelled louder as he reached Spike and reached out to grab a damp arm. Spike shrugged him off with a violent shiver.
"Bloody easier this way, mate," Spike said as he kept walking without making eye contact.
"You´re not walking, not again. Get your ass back to the car," Xander hissed as he trotted to keep up with Spike´s wide stride, a sense of panic rising in his throat at the idea of losing Spike. Absentmindedly wiping the rain from his face, Xander reached out again, but Spike took a quick dancing–step forward so that Xander grabbed at air. And Xander really hated vamp reflexes, especially when he didn´t have any.
"Better this way, yeah?" Spike threw his still unlit cigarette to the damp grass and kept walking as heavy drops started falling more steadily now. Spike passed through the last streetlight´s pool of light and disappeared into the darkness on the other side.
"Like hell," Xander said as he lunged forward and grabbed at Spike´s coat, fisting the leather and refusing to let go as Spike jerked him down the street. "This isn´t exactly inconspicuous." Xander pointed out. A face watched from the window of some shop with a cheesy Santa in the window even though they hadn´t actually gotten through Thanksgiving yet.
"Then bloody let go," Spike said as he unexpectedly swiveled, jerking his coat out of Xander´s grip and turning so the two men stood face to face. Xander reached out to touch Spike, and the vampire flinched back. Xander could feel his emotions shifting like a heavy load that someone hadn´t tied down, a heavy load that slid back and forth in the truck threatening to tip the whole damn thing into the nearest ditch.
"I´m not letting you go. I already said that," Xander answered as he stood inches from a game–faced Spike. Yellow eyes studied him, and Xander set his face into the closest imitation of Willow´s resolve face that he could manage. The rain continued to drizzle, and Xander could feel cold soak into him and rise up from within.
"Soddin´–" Spike paused, and his face ripped back into human features, and now blue eyes looked everywhere but at Xander. "Can´t fight a fuckin´ five year old," Spike hissed. "I bloody well know you hate my weakness. If ya truly were still the vampire you used ta be, you´d stake me yourself."
"Spike." Xander started to deny it, but then he stopped. He could feel that urge. He could feel the bitter edge of something ugly that wanted to crush the weakness in Spike, but he could feel more from that older set of memories that often crowded his mind. He could feel admiration for a childe who had survived. He could feel a cold fury toward the sheep who thought they had a right to touch the wolf.
Vampires didn´t protect the weak, but Spike hadn´t fallen in battle. He hadn´t proved himself weak. He was young and impetuous and he didn´t expect the sheep to organize an attack. Xander felt a rage that made his muscles tremble with the need to fight. Sheep had no right to attack the wolves, and yeah, as one of the sheep, he had completely lost his mind since he fought wolves every time he went on patrol. Well, not wolves wolves, but vampire wolves in the whole metaphor he had going on. Xander shook his head to try and find his own feelings in the middle of the emotional storm.
"You aren´t weak," Xander finally managed to say. He couldn´t explain his own feelings, but he knew that was true. "You escaped; you survived. You aren´t weak." Xander reached out again, and again Spike flinched back.
"If ya were a vampire, you´d think me weak," Spike pointed out in a far quieter voice than he normally used, the accent softened into something proper that didn´t sound right coming from Spike. "But you aren´t a vampire, and a few memories don´t change the fact that you´re still the white knight who´d die for the world. You´re going to bloody choose the slayer because it´s who you are. Not plannin´ on being around to see that."
"Shit, Spike, I´m not going to toss you out."
"Easier this way." Spike turned again, and Xander watched shiny streaks spread down Spike´s coat as the rain spat on them. Brushing his own damp curls out of his face, Xander ran to get in front of Spike.
"You´re not going anywhere," he repeated as he poked at Spike´s chest, at the place where a red shirt hid runes carved into flesh. "Remember me being a bastard and not letting you go? Hello! Still a bastard, still not letting you go." Xander tried to make himself sound confident even though he could feel his stomach churning until he could taste the bile of fear in his mouth
"Run back to the slayer," Spike said in a cold voice before he turned and headed north toward a cemetery.
"Spike, don´t–" Xander stopped as the rain chilled air suddenly grew heavy, the air pressing in on him uncomfortably, making him gasp and slowing time. Then lightening flashed across the sky and something magical slipped by him in sticky, jello blobs that made patches of skin warm and then turn icy cold.
"Spike," Xander called as he started running. He caught up soon enough since Spike had frozen in the middle of the sidewalk between the Starbucks and the cemetery wall.
"Bugger," Spike growled, the word slurred by fangs, and Xander looked the direction of Spike´s gaze. By the time he spotted the figures dressed in green and running toward them, Spike had already dashed past him with his coat flying like a cape.
"Oh shit," Xander agreed as one of the two, a dark mask covering the bottom half of his face, swung one seriously huge gun up toward him. Xander ran.
Spike led the race back toward the car, and Xander dashed after him, his sneakers pounding on the sidewalk with a slapping sound that he could barely hear over the pounding of his heart. Ahead of him, Spike slowed and turned to look behind, and then Spike threw out one arm, his other windmilling wildly as that lithe body twisted. For a second, Xander couldn´t decide what Spike was doing, and then Spike collapsed to the sidewalk with a string of curses Xander didn´t think were biologically possible. Only then did Xander realize the vampire had tripped in a display of the universe´s worst case of bad luck.
Spike sprang back up almost immediately, but Xander had already reached him, and the sound of boots slammed the sidewalk about two inches behind Xander, and panicsville was about a half inch behind that as Xander grabbed Spike´s arm and charged into the middle of the intersection. A blue car trying to steer around his precious lady had hit a white van, and both drivers were out and yelling as Spike and Xander reached the car. Someone had shut Spike´s door, and Xander vaguely realized that people now yelled at him as he struggled to get the key into the ignition. Spike snarled another curse, and Xander looked over to see him standing with a broken car door in hand, the passenger side door still closed.
Xander shoved at the key so hard that he had a flash of fear that he´d break it, but it slipped into place so he could turn it and send the engine roaring to life. Just as he reached over to open the passenger side, Spike dove in through the broken passenger window head first, his ass still hanging out the window as Xander threw the car into reverse to get away from the two soldiers now charging into the intersection.
Xander hit the accelerator only to have a truck pull out of an alley and block him in. An angry–looking man in a cowboy hat flipped him off as he barely avoided hitting it. With one frustrated glance at Spike, whose bad luck seemed contagious, Xander considered his options.
"Bloody go," Spike yelled as he wiggled into the car, and Xander bit back a sharp answer as he threw the car into drive and cranked the wheel toward the sidewalk. The car bounced over the curb hard enough to make Xander hit his head on the roof as the dull sound of metal scraping concrete filled the air.
One of the soldiers detoured into Xander´s new path, bringing his gun up. With the soldier aiming directly at him, Xander threw himself down onto the seat as he hit the accelerator as hard as he could. The sharp pings of bullets filled the air three times as the engine roared. The car lurched forward, and then the crunch of metal and then a sharp cracking sound, and then Xander sat up in time to see wide brown eyes as a soldier rolled off the car and fell to the street. Xander pulled the wheel to the right as he tried to avoid the second soldier, and he could feel the car bounce over a human–sized bump in the street.
Xander immediately felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. Someone big–demonic big–with big heavy boots that made his stomach collapse into his spine. Moisture blurred his vision and only once the windshield wipers didn´t work did it occur to him to wipe the tears from his face. Next to him, Spike pulled himself into his seat, but Xander´s mind remained with the soldier he´d plowed into and run over and probably killed. Inside his head, voices battled over just how to feel about becoming a killer for the second time. The only difference was that this time, unlike with Larry, he couldn´t claim some spell had made him do it.
