Spoilers: Sometime in early season five – or possibly late six BtVS. Warnings: M/M – if you don't like boys together, don't play here!
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters nor make any money from stories etc, and bow down to their original creators Joss, et al., plus all the wonderful online writers who continue to give the Buffy/Angel verse characters life.
(this chap for Lili's Faerie-muse harry - love daisy)
Part 3
"Steady on… Harris… You're Xander Harris aren't you? C'mon pet… steady… 's ol' Spike here… you remember… basement… savin' the world… Slayer's friend … Vampire?"
The Wood Nymph stood transfixed. Residual memories mixed with new thoughts as he tried to decide why he felt he should understand who the other creature was.
The blood on the ground did not smell of a threat, indeed it smelt familiar. And he recognized the demon race as one that did not hurt his kind, nor do ill to the trees. He opened and closed his mouth again, trying desperately to form words before he noted the other beginning to approaching achingly slowly.
Spike continued to hold out his hands, speaking in low soothing tones as he edged toward the nymph. A sudden gust of wind caught the leaves of the old tree, creating just enough distraction for Spike to be able to strike.
His arm shot out, grabbed the startled nymph and drew him into a close hug before the creature could react further. The ensuing struggle was fierce though only resulted in the two floundering on the ground.
Eventually the Spike's 'street smarts' paid dividends and he managed to pin the former Scoobie face down on the ground, though only after binding scrabbling hands and failing arms behind the green back with his belt, catching wriggling legs firmly with his own, and seating himself firmly on the soft brown bark that now covered Xander's rather taut behind.
Spike had had enough. Apart from anything else, the Wood nymph was exactly that – wood - and he had at least three rather large splinters embedded in various parts of his anatomy, plus had leaf parts stuck between his fangs like some bizarre parody of a post spinach luncheon and lack of dental hygiene!
He spat the latter out dramatically and resumed his litany of swear words in various human and demon languages before calming enough to growl. "You f'ing sod! Bloody well stay still or I'll find a decent pair of garden snips and trim some of yer pretty dangly bits!"
The green being below him seemed to submit, but Spike knew better and simply waited for the being to buck again, before binding the thrashing legs with his own (now shredded) shirt.
The nymph knew he had no chance of defending his tree in his current position, and wondered at his captor's constant reference to a name he remembered vaguely from before. Coupled with the familiarity of the scent and apparent lack of real malice beyond the other magical creature's desire to subdue him, Xander relaxed a little and tried to convey his peaceful intentions in the only way now available to him. He ceased all resistance.
Spike carefully turned the nymph onto his back with no further protest then watched with fascination as the being processed how he might communicate with his captor.
Xander's lack of working larynx did not prevent him whispering his message and despite the sound resembling the faintest rustle of leaves, the message was clearly mouthed and in English. Preternatural hearing had no trouble discerning the message.
"Please… I need to protect her… Please!"
Spike suspected the answer to his next question but asked anyway, "Who's her, pet?"
"My dearest, my maker, my Mother tree… I…I am pledged to her. She needs me! Please let me go… I will do you no harm… Please…!"
Spike's eyes narrowed for a moment and he leaned forward to taste the pale brown fluid that oozed from a small cut on Xander's upper arm. The wood nymph expected to die, but the vampire on top of him simply licked the wound clean. Then to the puzzlement of his captive, the blonde sat back looking genuinely sad before brushing some of Xander's stray leafy tresses from the nymph's eyes.
"Oh pet… Wouldn't hurt you for the world… Not then and not bloody now… You really are lost to us aren't you… One of the fae now… One of the 'other' for all time… Like your's truly innit... Soddin' universe 'as screwed you over good an' proper… good an' proper."
Xander blinked slowly as the vampires baritone voice trailed off, and found himself leaning in to what could only be called a gentle caress though unsure of what he should do or say.
Spike seemed lost in thought for the moment and continued the soft touches with one hand while absently releasing Xander's arms and legs with the other.
Even after being freed Xander remained, lulled by the calm hand, enjoying the unfamiliar touch, and taking in the creature above him fully. Fine featured, in fact ethereally beautiful, yet a body obviously capable of great savagery, a hunter with preternatural speed and strength. Xander scented the air properly as the hand brushed his forehead again, and it suddenly struck him. He knew this creature from his 'before'.
His memories were all jumbled but he thought he could knew that this was a friend – a good friend, a brother in arms, someone of value. He knew the leather and tobacco smell so well, intimately even and his eyes went wide as the continued caress combined with the line of thought caused an unfamiliar tingle in his groin, and his features under his bark flap to stir a little.
As Spike ceased his caress, the rather confused wood nymph acted on impulse and with preternatural speed slid from under the vampire, kissed him hard on the lips, then disappeared up his tree in a flash of green.
An astonished Spike stood staring up for a moment before stomping off mumbling in frustration, "Typical bloody Wood Nymph! All enigmatic whispers and soddin' camouflage!"
Hours later, a rather confused Xander finally slithered down his tree to settle for the coming day. He had much to contemplate, but knew without a doubt that he hoped to see the vampire again. He felt joy and hope at the thought that he truly did have a friend from the 'before'!
………………..
It was four nights before Xander saw his friend again, four very painful nights for both other worldly creatures.
Spike, for his part, had a fractured wrist, fang missing, a gaping hole in his right buttock and bruises in every place imaginable by the end of the first evening.
He had literally crawled home after their altercation with the Initiative's obviously domesticated and trained Groxlar beasts. Their collars gave away the identity of the 'owners', though the motivation for the attack was still one of conjecture amongst the remaining Scoobies. If it had not been for Willow and her wiccan groupies, Spike would have been dust and Buffy, Groxlar pie.
The stale animal blood he kept in the cooler at the rear of the crypt only lasted for a day, and he had wondered then if he would starve to death or simply wait until another 'beastie' decided to use the crypt and finally dust his injured self.
Then Dawn arrived on the second evening. His lovely 'Bit' brought seventeen bags of just expired human blood with her, along with nearly ten kilos of ice and promised to deliver more in a couple of days. His lips and mouth were so swollen and sore that he could not even express his gratitude, but she understood as unbidden tears fell from near closed eyes. She squeezed the only part of his right arm that was uninjured before silently feeding him three bags of blood, then departed.
………………..
The Wood Nymph spent two nights watching for his friend and tending his tree, but was unworried. Time moved differently when directly connected to such an old being and the ancient living rock that was Earth.
Late on the second night, he had seen a pretty female with a large box moving in the direction that his friend had gone the previous couple of evening and idly wondered if they were known to each other.
He sat high in his tree after seeing the girl and watched as satellites move by, grinning as a shooting star flared and wishing… his friend well. The third night came and went in much the same fashion.
On the fourth day, late afternoon, he woke to excruciating pain. They were carving her! His beautiful tree. Someone was scarring her bark with an ugly knife. He was happy that he was in the way and his being would take most of the marking, but as the next slice occurred, the tree shuddered with her protector's agony and all magical creatures in the area felt the trace of one of their own in desperate pain.
As evening fell, Spike limped to the tree where he had last seen the nymph, Harris, aware that he had failed to visit for nearly five days.
He saw a pale figure curled up and tucked into a crevice at the base of the enormous root system, and moved toward it with caution.
As he approached the figure pulled in tighter on itself, and Spike gasped as he saw the damage to the being he now knew to be Xander.
The formerly flawless pale back now sported a raw and oozing large love heart complete with arrow and "WB 4 AL" at its centre. The scoring was so deep that Spike fancied he could see bone.
He shrugged off his duster and flung himself onto the ground beside the injured nymph before easing the surprisingly light body into the soft leather, careful not to aggravate the horrendous injury.
With no real idea how to assist a creature of the woods, he cut his wrist on his fangs and dripped the magical blood onto the worst of the wounds.
Completely intent on his task, Spike missed the sparkle of magic as blood met bark, and also failed to hear the sighed blessing of the old tree as one of her own was cared for by a most unlikely savior.