Title: Sympathy For The Devil

Authoress: Sakuri

Rating: M

Summary: Spander slash. Slight AU. In a Sunnydale without Buffy, Spike is being held captive by the Initiative. When a newly de-souled Angelus arrives in town, he may be the only one with knowledge enough to help stop him. Enter Xander, new Initiative recruit, and the only person able to hold the vampire's interest for more than five minutes.

Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one

Chapter Two: First Encounter

xxx

Xander obediently arrived outside Giles's office at the appointed time, raised his fist to announce his presence, only to have the door yanked open before he could do so. He blinked a couple of times in the face of the equally startled Englishman. "Uhm, hi."

"Oh good. Agent Harris, you're here."

"Call me Xander," he replied automatically, before wincing as he remembered he should really be a little more formal with his superiors. Neither the soldier spirit nor the additional Initiative training had quite managed to quell all his tendencies towards faux pas and impropriety, however.

Wait, is Giles my superior? He doesn't have a title, and I'm pretty sure he's unofficial around here.

"Come in a moment, Ag– X-Xander."

He followed the ex-librarian into his office, instinctively glancing about to take in the new surroundings. Twitched an eyebrow.

Wow. Did he just move the whole Sunnydale High library down here?

It was almost an exact replica, with high wooden shelves packed with leather bound, yellow paged old books, many of which bore titles written in languages Xander couldn't hope to read, and half suspected didn't belong to any human culture on the planet. Grey filing cabinets lined one wall, decorated with potted ferns. A cup and saucer filled with gently steaming tea sat at the edge of the nearby wooden desk. The place bore no resemblance at all to the rest of the minimal, modern facility.

"I wanted to talk to you about what to expect when you meet with Hostile 17."

Xander sighed. "I still don't know what you all want from me, you know. I mean – give me a tranquiliser or a stake and point me at the vampires. Sure thing. Talk to one? That's a whole other story."

"They're not so far removed from humans as to be unintelligible," Giles answered mildly, moving to lean against his desk and retrieve his tea. "Now, I would never advise you to forget who and, more importantly, what you're conversing with, but I think you'll find the actual talking easier than you imagine. Especially with one such as Spike."

Who? "Who?"

The other man briefly froze, then, looking sheepish, removed his glasses to begin polishing. "Ah, that is, Hostile 17."

"You call him 'Spike'?"

Giles shrugged, still polishing. "A crude nickname, I admit, but oddly catchy. That's part of what I wanted to talk about."

"His nickname?"

"What? I– No. Look." The ex-librarian finally looked at him properly, pinning him with a gaze so intense Xander felt himself involuntarily stand a little straighter. "Hostile 17 can sometimes be... beguiling, in his own way. When he feels like it. You'll find it's very easy to forget what he is."

"I don't think –"

"You said it yourself," Giles interrupted. "You're accustomed to hunting vampires – and, from what I hear, you do a commendable job. But you're not used to thinking of them as people."

Xander frowned. But they're not people. Isn't that the point?

"Spike can be clever. Don't forget that." They stared at each other a little longer, before Giles finally replaced his glasses and moved towards the door, talking over his shoulder. "Try not to give him any personal information, if you can help it. He might be locked up but he'll still try to hurt you if you let him. I'll be with you, so don't worry too much." Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "I must admit, I'm curious to see what effect, if any, your... ah, magnetism might have on a Master vampire such as him."

"I wish people would stop saying that," he muttered unhappily as he trailed out of the office. "I have no idea what it means."

xxx

The Basement, as it was informally known, was that section of the Initiative where the Hostiles were kept. It required high enough security that Xander had never been permitted inside before now – but in the company of Giles, the two of them breezed through the security checks with minimal fuss. The Englishman was clearly a regular visitor, as the men on guard greeted him by name, reminding him to buzz the intercom if he needed anything.

Soon enough Xander found himself striding down an unadorned, blindingly white corridor. It felt very much like walking into the light during a near death experience, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the row of cells along the right wall. Xander couldn't take his eyes from them.

They were little white rooms with one wall made of reinforced, 10 inch glass, so that a person could stand outside and safely observe the occupant, charts clamped on the wall to one side. Many were empty at the moment, and others pitch black so that whatever was inside was invisible. Others, though...

Xander remembered bringing in some of these demons. He'd definitely helped catch that horned one. A Fyarl demon, wasn't it called? And there was one of the Hell Hounds, possibly the one that had left him with the scar on his leg. Most, though, he didn't recognise. They passed something slimy dragging its bulk across the pristine white floor, leaving a sludge-like trail behind it. Another cell had a couple of fledgling vampires in it, the two locked in together to see what they'd do. Xander gave it another half an hour before there was only one vamp and a small pile of dust.

Giles led him almost to the end of the corridor, past a succession of empty cells, before stopping at one in which the lights within were all turned off. If asked, Xander would have said it too was empty. He even cast a questioning glance at the other man, but Giles simply gestured for him to return his attention to the darkened room. Eyes furiously scanning the pitch black beyond the glass, he was still unable to see any signs of movement. He stepped closer and squinted. Giles flicked the light switch.

Sweet Jesus!

With difficulty, he fought not to show his fright at how close the vampire was revealed to be standing, a mere couple of feet away, directly in front of him. Glass. He's behind monster-proof glass. Don't panic. Nevertheless, his hand moved of its own accord to the stake at his belt.

Ice blue eyes flickered towards the movement and the vampire smirked, closing the last of the distance between them to come lay both his palms against the glass barrier. He cocked his head and drawled charmingly, "Evenin' ducks."

The last time Xander had laid eyes on Hostile 17, he'd been trussed up and unconscious, the new arrival. All flapping leather and bleached locks, Billy Idol wannabe. The coat had since been taken away from him, though, revealing a body that was surprisingly tiny, although you'd have to be a fool not to recognise the coiled strength there. He still had his black T-shirt and jeans, and the battered old Doc Martens he'd come with.

Looks cleaner than I thought he'd be after months in this one room. Vampire thing, I suppose. Duh. No messy human bodily functions, like sweating or... yeah.

In fact, the only thing to suggest he wasn't regularly grooming despite his state of incarceration was the hair. It had grown out, was now two-tone with dark brown roots. The gel that had slicked it back had long ago disintegrated, allowing the strands to curl sweetly around his face.

Falsely angelic.

"Brought me some young blood, have you Rupes?"

Giles sighed. "Spike, I've told you not to –"

"Oy, oy!" the vampire cut him off with an indignant glare. "Keep it professional, yeah? No 'Spike'. I'm a Hostile, me. Big Bad. Very dangerous. Grr." He clawed his fingers and bared his teeth in the most ridiculous impression of a monster Xander had ever seen. The human suddenly wanted very much to laugh, and had to viciously clamp down on the urge since he was pretty damn sure you weren't supposed to be sharing jokes with vampires. Must be the nerves.

Ignoring the blonde's mockery with what was clearly practiced resignation, Giles turned and moved to the far side of the corridor, where he stood with his back to the wall and watched. Nearby, like he'd promised, but oh so obviously removed from the interaction.

Spike's eyes lit up. "Ooh, new game is it? Right. See if I can figure out the rules to this one, eh?" Amusement swiftly disappeared, however, and an unimpressed gaze flicked up and down Xander, seemed to take the measure of him in an instant. "And just who might you be, pet?"

'Pet'? Did I just get called pet by the guy in the cage? Great. Way to exude authority, Harris.

"Agent Harris. And you're Hostile 17."

"Prefer 'Spike', myself. More of a ring to it, yanno?" Blue eyes narrowed. "What's your proper name?"

Giles's warning flashed through his head. No personal information. Right, got it. Like I'm about to let myself get to first name basis with a vampire, anyway.

"Not really important, is it?" he countered.

The blonde rolled his eyes. "Suit yourself." He turned and sauntered towards the back of his cell, leaning against the far wall with his arms folded behind his head as if perfectly relaxed. "So come on then. Out with it. What's the latest interrogation technique?"

Deciding that subtlety was hardly his strong suit, Xander said simply, "Angelus is in the area."

That got him a reaction. The vampire stopped dead, fixed him with a wide-eyed stare. A muscle in his jaw twitched repeatedly and his arms fell to his side. "...What?"

"He's your – what do you call it? – grandsire, right?"

Spike moved slowly towards him, seemingly unaware that he held his body angled and hunched as though expecting to be struck. "Angel's here in Sunnydale?"

"No, Angelus is."

Understanding flowed between them. Xander watched closely as emotions flittered in fast succession across the vampire's angular face. Anger. Shock. Confusion. Relief. Fear. Back to anger. He seemed stuck in a cycle, unsure how to react to the information. In fact, it wasn't just his expression that kept changing. Blue eyes flashed briefly golden before Spike managed to control himself enough to resume the human facade.

Man that looks weird. What a freak...

The blonde was studying him narrowly now, suspicious and defensive. "Yeah? So why you telling me? What do I care if Peaches is back in town?"

Xander hesitated. Crap. Now what do I say?

Spike jabbed a finger in his direction and edged a little closer. "And while we're on the matter, why the bloody hell did they send someone barely out of high school to tell me? You are out of high school, aren't you, whelp?" It was quickly becoming a full blown rant as the vampire began stalking from one side of his cell to the other. "I mean, I know I'm not exactly on top form here, but it comes to something when they're sending kids to stare at me like I'm a soddin' circus show!"

Who's he calling a kid?

"Tell you what, time was this wouldn't be happening. Me an' Dru, we would've been in Brazil by now. Would have had a court, and minions, and it would have been a human like you in the god damn cage!" Spike whipped around to stare at him, eyes burning demonic gold in earnest now. "Yeah. Just like you. Be a right treat, wouldn't you pet? All tasty and innocent. Yeah..."

Spike snarled, let loose with the game face, and in less time than it took to blink had darted across his cell and hurled himself against the glass. The whole barrier reverberated with the sudden impact, vibrating with strain as the furious vampire fought to break through.

And just like that the soldier instinct finally kicked in, a bit belated. Xander moved almost as fast as Spike had, reaching into his back pocket and pulling free the crucifix he kept there. With all his strength he slammed it against the glass right before the other's face. The blonde reeled backwards with a growl, landing on his ass with limbs sprawled.

Looking murderous, the vampire's chest heaved with unnecessary gasps as he gathered his legs beneath him and regained his feet. But he was calm. Calmer. He ran a steady hand through his wavy hair, sweeping it out of his eyes.

"He'll come for me once he finds out I'm in here, you know," Spike whispered, and it took Xander a moment to realise he was talking about Angelus. "Tear this place down. Or maybe we'll just put you lot in the cages instead, see what happens. Yeah, that's more up his street. And when I get out, I'll have you as my nummy treat, won't I pet? Reckon you're sweet as pie..." The vampire tilted his head back and gave an unpleasant smile, touching one elongated fang with the tip of his tongue.

Xander, shaken though he was, couldn't resist returning his own nasty smile, maintaining it long enough to see the other falter. "We're hoping Angelus comes for you."

Golden eyes widened minimally. "You wanna put him in this place..."

"We're going to put him in this place."

Beat.

Spike began to laugh. Really laugh. If asked, Xander would have said there was an edge of hysteria to the sound, and he felt somewhat taken aback as he watched the vampire double over with unrelenting mirth, shifting back into his human face seemingly against his will.

"What's so funny?"

"You!" the blonde gasped through the laughter. "All enthusiastic, trying to be threatening. Like a puppy growling." He shook his head, hiccupped a little, before finally succeeding in controlling himself. "Look, pet. Bit of free advice here. Don't get in Angelus's way. If it is Angelus – and not the poof – you're never gonna put him in chains. Closest thing you'll ever see to a force of nature in Armani leather, he is."

"I'm not afraid of him."

"Soddin' well should be."

It was stalemate as they glared at one another through the glass, tension charging the air. Xander's hand once again twitched towards his belt and the weapons he kept there, while Spike's eyes flashed with the odd hint of gold.

No wonder they fobbed this guy off on me! No one else wanted to deal with him!

A quiet cough reminded them they weren't alone and both reluctantly broke their staring contest to glance at Giles. The Englishman took a slow step forward. "Agent Harris, maybe you should –"

"Forget it. This isn't working." And with that, the dark haired human spun on his heel and took off down the corridor, back rigid and boots stomping with more force than strictly necessary.

Giles sighed as he watched Xander disappear, murmured to no one in particular, "Sadly enough, that actually went better than expected."

In his cell, Spike nodded agreeably. "Yeah. I like that one."