Meetings in Sewers

By: Tropicwhale

Disclaimer: They are not mine. If they were, things wouldn't be the way they were in the final seasons. Joss Whedon owns all but the plot and needs to start looking after his property properly because they keep getting hijacked by strange fanpeople wearing "I LOVE SLASH" t-shirts which is just odd.

Warning: SLASH! SLASH! SLASH! Bad Language! French! Turn back now if this squicks you.

This chapter is dedicated to: a new reviewer in the house (if there was a house), Chezzeh, who apparently loves this story. A lot. Thank you so much, your reviews made me giddy! And to Goodfairy who also reviewed and continues to be a source of inspiration and drive. This chapter answers why Spike is being an idiot.

Feedback: I can has feedback? (LOLcats rocks my socks)

Author Notes: Meep! Meep! Now thanks to Chezzeh and Goodfairy I have 12 reviews for 12 chapters, I'm finally even! Yah! Meep! Meep!


Chapter Eleven:
Breakdowns in Closets

Beledia LeBrun is one of my favorite people in the entire world. She's saucy, and sweet, and generously proportioned if you know what I mean. She's like a French Joyce Summers actually. I liked Joyce. Still can't figure out how a woman like that ended up with a daughter like Buffy. I mean sure there were certain similarities but on the whole the pair of them were as different as day and night. She had to have gotten it (whatever it was that made Buffy somewhat dense at times) from her father's side. Never met her father, so it's safe to assume that she got from him. But enough about genetics, lets focus on the here and now shall we? I had followed Ms. Beledia out into the living room where she distributed the soup. The three girls thanked her with tear-stained faces and went back to their vigil of Emma. She turned back to me and pulled me aside. "So why hasn't anyone called the police?"

"They have enemies in the government who would love to get their hands on one of these girls. They're special." I told her. Beledia shook her head. Well its true!

"See the scary thing is, my friend, is that I believe you. Emma's corpse isn't safe is it? How could anyone want to desecrate the dead like that? She was barely sixteen!"

"I know." I smiled in almost an apologetic way. That always got me brownie points. "Believe me I know." She smiled back at me sadly.

"So what are they going to do?"

"Hold a funeral service outside city limits. They're going to burn the body." She looked slightly appalled at that. "It's the only way to make sure that Emma's body is respected."

"What about her parents?"

"We don't know where they are or who they are. A lot of these girls' families just drop them off and never look back. They can't deal with their daughters' abilities." Oh don't look at me like that! I'm not lying or pulling it out of my ass. It's true as far as I know. People are idiots when it comes to things they don't understand. And hello? I've been kidnapped by Nazis and Initiative creeps, I'm practically an expert on government experimentation. But that's not the point. The point is that I don't have a point and I'm not lying to Beledia. So there.

"So if they ever got their hands on Kenya. . ." Oh, didn't think about that. Forgot that the woman had a daughter that's a slayer.

"Don't worry. She's low profile enough that she probably won't be in any danger." Beledia gave me a look that told me, in no uncertain terms, that she didn't believe me but was grateful for the lie. Her face suddenly darkened with confusion as her eyes looked over pass my shoulder. "Wot?"

"Where is Xander going?" I half-turn and there is Harris slinking back to his bedroom. I turn back to the woman.

"Don't know, don't really care." I tell her. She cocked an eyebrow at me. "Wot?"

"What did he do?" How did she-?

"How do you fig-?"

"Because, my dear boy, I've known Xander for about ten months now. Kenya spend a good amount of time on the phone with me saying how much he angered her the first few months. He is a good man but he seems to work on instinct most of the time and tends not to think things through. It is an amusing and infuriating combination." I chuckled at that. "I assume that he did something wrong. Perhaps something to do with Emma's death."

"Something like that."

"She was special to him. They all are. Even I can tell that. It's like he looks at them as his own daughters. In Kenya's case, I am glad. George was gunned down when she was very little. She has no real memories of her father. It makes her very serious. Xander seems to bring out the softer, happier side in her."

"That's good, I suppose." She nods and continues.

"The entire time that Xander has been tutoring Kenya and she's been living here I've never seen him so relaxed. Even with this tragedy he seems more at ease. How long have you known him?"

"Since he was sixteen. He had this friend that I was rivals with but later we became quite close. We fell out of touch rather abruptly about four years ago."

"I see. And did he leave you or did you leave him?" That was an odd way of phrasing that question.

"I guess you could say that I left him. He didn't even know that I was still alive until this past week."

"Well, it is obvious he still cares about you. Perhaps you should give him a second chance." Wait, what was she talking about. I gave her a questioning look. "Oh, don't be coy. I'm French. Depending on the time of day we can go either way." Wait, was she implying that Harris and I were lovers? "I don't have a problem with homosexuals." Oh lord, she was.

"No! We weren't like that, ever!" She blinked in surprise.

"Oh, Kenya said that you two were seeing each other."

"No, no! God no. She and the other girls have this crazy idea that we should be together but no!"

"You are adamantly protesting this rumor."

"So I am."

"Well then, I suppose it is my duty to inform you that Xander has a major crush on you. When you were short with him in the kitchen he had a look on his face similar to that of a kicked puppy."

"He did?"

"He did."

"I knew about the crush but . . . Its complicated. His girlfriend died in a rather brutal car crash on Wednesday and he had to go to the funeral Friday and he just gets home and the accident with Emma happened."

"Poor Xander!"

"Yeah well, to top all that off we run into each other after all these years he had assumed me dead . . ." She looked shocked and confused. "Do you remember that sink hole incident in California four years back?"

"Sunnydale. That is where Xander was from. It was lucky that he survived the catastrophe."

"Yeah well . . . That's where we know each other from. I was caught in the blast that started the chain reaction that destroyed the town. By all rights, I should be dead."

"Thank God you aren't!" God really had nothing to do with it but so not saying that aloud. "So Xander is under a lot of stress and sees you as an old war buddy who he can cleave to in his time of grief."

"Pretty much, yeah."

"So you are worried that he is attracted to you out of a visceral need to connect to someone who understands what he's been through and not out of genuine interest?"

"Yeah. The friend of his that I was rivals with, I kind of went through the same thing with them and really don't want a repeat. There was-I was- it was-" Damn it! Why is it that I start sounding like a complete and utter prat when Buffy (and once upon a time Cecily) is brought up. I'm acting like I did when I was human and that is simply unacceptable. "Bad. The whole thing was just bad. Went rotten really quick. And then it got worse.". Beledia looked at me sadly and then pulled me into a hug. My mother used to give me hugs like that. Hugs where the whole world would drop away and I'd be safe for just a few moments. It was nice.

"Oh, chéri, one bad experience should not deter you from seeking out other loves. After all, life is short eat desert first." Life is short, if you're not a vampire. "I say go for it. He may surprise you." Doubt it. "If he does live down to your expectations then you can come and tell me and I'll beat him from here to Nigeria and back again." That got a smile out of me or rather a smirk. I could see it happening. And no doubt the girls would be helping with the task. "And no doubt the girls would help with the task." And that, ladies and gentlemen of the audience, falls under the category of CREEPY, capital letters included. "Now go and see what is wrong with Xander." She ordered then she gave me a kiss on the cheek and smiled at me. "Pour la bonne chance." She told me and walked away. Alright, suppose I ought to check on the whelp. I walk over and slip inside the darkened room.

"Harris?" The room was empty. I check the walls for hidden panels. Maybe there was a secret passage like the one upstairs. Nope no hollowness. Except maybe between Xander's ears. There was a window in the room, draped with a heavy quilt from when I decided that Xander's room was way nicer than the couch and didn't want to be crispy fried like one of those onion blossoms. I brace against the wall where I would be well out of the way of any sunlight and gently draw back the blanket to see if he had snuck out by way of the window. Unfortunately, the damn thing was heavy and at the slight twitch I gave it, it fell to the floor bathing most of the room in sunlight. "BUGGER!" I jump backwards away from the deadly light, smoking. I slam into something hollow. I glance behind me but mostly keep the sunlight in my vision. It was the closet.

"Go away Spike." A muffled voice came from behind the closed door. It was Xander. He was hiding in the closet.

"Can't and also, why are you in the closet?"

"Why can't you?" Geez, he sounded it sullen. And he ignored the question about why he's in a bloody closet.

"Because I'm kind of trapped."

"Trapped how?"

"The quilt that was over the window fell down and the room's all sunny again." I roll my eyes to the ceiling. I can't believe what I'm about to say. "Xander can you come out of the closet to rescue me?"

"What do I get in return?" Oh Bloody Hell.

"You're asking for a price? Some bloody white hat you turned out to be. Aren't you suppose to be a knight in shiny armor?"

"Are you saying you're a damsel in distress, Spike?" Damn him for sounding amused.

"Look, at least let me in, yeah? I'm smoking here. Literally."

"I'm thinking of a word. What is it? Oh yeah! No."

"Why not?"

"I'm still angry at you Spike."

"I'm sorry, yeah? Please let me in and/or rescue me?" He has me begging. Me, the ex-Big Bad, begging. Hello humiliation. Haven't seen you since my days in Sunnyhell. "Look, you let me in and I'll tell you why I was short with you earlier." No answer. "If you don't let me in then you'll have to explain to Beledia and the girls what happened to me when I'm dust." Equal parts begging, humiliation, the promise of truth and blackmail. "Well?"

"I'm thinking." Oh for the love of Buffy!

"Look Xander, we don't have all year just let me in, yeah? Please?" There was a beat of nothing as the room warmed up by the heat of the sun. Then the door opened and I slid in. I shut the door behind me and slide down in the blessed dark.

"Ow! That was my foot Spike!"

"Sorry. Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah. You're just lucky that I'm afraid of Beledia." I can make out his features in the dark. His mouth is set in a stubborn line.

"What?"

"Why were you mean to me in front of Beledia."

"I didn't say anything to you in front of Beledia." I pointed out.

"Exactly." I shift and my leg brushes along his thigh.

"I was-am angry at you."

"Why? What did I do?"

"It's what you keep trying to do." I told him.

"Wait-what?" Dense blighter.

"Do you Scoobies think that I'm a sounding board for everything that goes south in your lives? You're doing the same thing Buffy did. You keep reaching out for me instead of dealing with your own emotional issues and I'm not going through that pain again. I'm not a sexual punching bag." Shit. I didn't mean to say all that. I was going to give noncommittal answers until he gave up and went to fix the quilt. I guess the best laid plans and all that rot. I can smell surprise rolling off the boy.

"Wait. You think that I'm reaching out to you because I'm grieving and in pain and you're convenient?"

"Yeah. Pretty much." So I'm a little defensive. Do you honestly blame me? He shifted and landed on my ankle. "Ow."

"Sorry." He moved some more until he was straddling my hips with his thighs. I want to push him off and run screaming from the closet but you know there's sunlight outside, so yeah, my choices are get mind-fucked by yet another Scooby or be burned alive. Not much of a choice is it? And people wonder why I try to stake myself on occasion. "Spike." Xander's hands were cupping my face and forcing me to look at him. I really don't want this. "Look at me." I glance at him, barely. "That isn't what this is about. I'm attracted to you. I find you sexy, annoying, confident, brave, self-sacrificing, cocky, beautiful and I really want to kiss you. Maybe even more than kiss you but I want you not because you take away the pain . . . heck if I'm right then being with you will actually complicate my life more than if I didn't want you. But I do. I like you Spike. You're a good friend and if sources are correct more than adequate to be classified as more than a friend but we don't know unless we try, right?" At the end of his little rambling speech he kissed me. Well not so much kiss as melt into me starting with his lips and going lower. I keep my hands flat on the floor. I don't want him to say that I took advantage of him later. It was all on him. His hands swept down my cheeks to my neck and then my shoulders while his tongue licked at my lips to get permission to enter.

My instincts scream at me to run, to get away, that this can't mean anything of great importance to the boy, after all he hates vampires, hates me. He gives up on my lips and started nipping at my jaw line and then my throat, along my pulse point. God above that felt good! His hands slid down my arms and grabbed both my hands, interlocking them. He kissed back up my throat to my mouth and this time I kissed back. He hummed happily and smiled into my mouth.

This felt different than it did with Buffy. Besides the obvious differences it felt gentler, safer. Xander seemed intent on making sure I was enjoying the experience as well. It was like the early years with Dru. As a fledge (and I kill anyone who lets this leak out) I wasn't too sure of my powers, I felt stronger but for the first few years I was still, for all intents and purposes, William, Alexander's weaker twin brother. Drusilla knew this and she protected me from Angelus (more or less) and was sweet to me in bed, instructing me through the basics of sex. It was nice to have someone care for me, to see me as something other than beneath them. Xander was doing that now. I joined in the fun a little more. I disengaged our hands and ran mine up his chest to hook behind his head and took control of the kiss. He seemed perfectly content with that and dropped his hands to my chest and stomach. My hands drop to his shoulders and slid lower, intent on taking off his shirt. When my hands reach the hem of his shirt to pull it off of him he immediately pulls back and grabs them.

"Stop Spike." I pull back to look at him, my body screaming at me to reengage the fun.

"Wot?"

"I don't want my first time with you to be in a closet the day of one of my slayers' funeral. And I'm so turning into a girl by saying this but I want our first time to be special."

"You had no problem trying to jump me when Renee died." I need to point that out.

"Yeah but there was a bottle of whiskey involved and I wasn't in my right head, pun not intended." He laughed a little at his own joke. "I wanted you but you were right I wasn't thinking too clearly and so other stuff that has to do with psychology 101 which I didn't take because, hey! no college for the Xan-man and everything." I kissed him to get him to shut up.

"You're babbling again. Get to the point."

"Sorry."

"S'alright."

"My point is that I want you and if I waited for a time in my life where there wasn't grief and pain to tell you then I'd never get to tell you. You told me to tell you that I wanted you when I was in my right mind, or something like that, so I'm telling you now. I want you Spike." I brush his hair out of his eyes and kiss him gently on the lips. When we break apart my hand stays cupping his cheek. He wants me. Alright, I can accept that. I want him too. He's attractive and sincere and has obviously grown a lot since I last saw him in Sunnydale. We could make this work. Doesn't mean I'll make it easy on him.

"Alright, I can accept that but there is going to be a few ground rules."

"I agree." Both my hands drop to his hips.

"I get to feed from you."

"No way in hell. I'll get you a supply of human blood though."

"Fair enough."

"We can't get lovey-dovey around the girls." I snort. "It'll distract them." I pout. I live for public displays of affection. "I mean it Spike." I pout a little more and run my hands down his thighs a little. "Fine we can snuggle but nothing major." I frown at that.

"Define 'major'."

"Like making-out, dry humping, uh, standing too close too often." That makes sense.

"Alright, I can live with that."

"You're not alive." He shot back. I laugh.

"We share the bed. That couch is murder."

"Okay but no sex for awhile. Until we can get comfortable with each other in this sense." No sex? Never had a relationship without sex. That won't work. "I mean it, Spike."

"Can't we at least play with each other's private bits? Shower together? A bit of lite bondage?" I waggle my eyebrows at him in suggestion. I get hit for my troubles.

"No." Ah well, was worth the try.

"Fine, but you need to invest in heavier curtains." I shot back.

"You have to pick them out with me." Gah! Dammit. Fine.

"Fine." I'm getting a little horny sitting under him like this and like the fact that he's being a little dominate. I'm naturally submissive (if you hadn't noticed) and like it if my lovers take control most of the time and in return I take care of them. I wriggle around a bit.

"Stop that Spike." I run my hands up and down his thighs a little more. He slams his hands on the wall on either side of my head, arousal pouring off him. Oh, I found a weakness. "I get a least one kiss a day." That is no problem. I'm slightly impressed that he's coherent when I'm playing with his body. I drag my fingers to backs of his knees.

"You need to romance me." There, I said it, and now offically I've become a poof like my sire before me. Double fuck in a thorny rose bush.

"Romance you? Like take you out on dates and stuff?"

"Not quite that but pretty much. I don't date." He looked confused. "Victorian, mate. Dates back in my day were what you call group dates today. I'm talking flowers and shit like that." He smiled at me. "Wot?"

"Why Spike! You romantic you!" He said a southern belle voice. He sounded remarkably like Fred. How creepy is that?

"Shut it."

"I bet anything you're a secret cuddler too." I shifted uncomfortably. "You are! Oh my god, Spike the ex-Big Bad, a cuddler."

"Shut it." I kiss him quickly to shut him up. "New rule, you're not allow to tell that to anyone." I'm neither confirming or denying it. He kissed me, smiling, laughing.

"Don't worry, sweetie. I won't tell a soul about your secretive cuddling." We made eye contact in the dark. "No nicknames like sweetie, honey, or baby." He said.

"Or Blondie Bear." I added. He nodded. "Now go fix the quilt so I can come out of the closet." He laughed and kissed me. I kissed back and he stood and went out of the closet.

"Hey it's dark out." he called out. I stood and came out as well. The sun had indeed set.

"Alright. I suppose it's time we went and burned Emma's body." I said. He nodded. And we went to mourn Emma.


Author After Notes: I kinda stole the idea of hiding in a closet from an Angel/Spike story on Adult fan fiction. net (whose name escapes me) except it was Spike hiding in the actual closet because, of course, he's Spike and a bit mental and Angel was hiding in the figurative closet. But I love the idea! The guy who has accepted his sexuality hiding in an actual closet until the actual closet case accepts his sexuality. It's like a homosexual sit-in. It's brilliant! I love it! I really do! It's hilarious. So I stole it. The rest of the story is mine though. The Shournlach, the mini-slayers, Beledia, the Grimmoire of Morgan Le Fay; those are mine.

Another long chapter, eassh!

French dialogue

Chéri- sweetheart

pour la bonne chance- for good luck

Wishing more people reviewed, and loving those that do at a friendly, respectful distance . . .

-Tropic