Spike wandered in the moonlight of his cemetery, just aching for an opportunity to demolish the first demon or fledgling vampire that would dare trespass into his territory. It happened every night of course, but tonight was one of those rare nights that seemed a little slow for his taste. He needed distraction. He needed something to pulverize. And the night just wasn't yielding what he'd desired. So far there had only been two vamps tonight and it had been an hour since he'd seen any action.
One very, very long hour.
His mind kept both blessing and brutalizing him with the image of Buffy at the wedding. That had been the last time he'd seen her. They were pretty much steering clear of each other since she had called it off with him.
The Harris wedding had been the first time he'd seen her since, and the last. He hadn't heard from her, the bit or any of them. He had thought of sneaking around Buffy's house to see how things were, but he'd only get caught and be scolded by her again. She'd then go on to tell him once again how it was over between them. That was something he wasn't prepared to hear again right now.
Buffy...she had looked so beautiful that day. Amazing that even she could pull it off in that bloody abomination of a dress. But she had. She was radiant, her smile lit up with room every time she entered it.
And it had ripped his heart out while making him deliriously happy at the same time.
To see her that happy, knowing it was probably from the relief...no longer having to feel the guilt she'd been feeling for having allowed herself to be with a 'thing' like him.
Yet, she was happy and that had to count for something.
When she made that crack about the dress being radio-active and looked at him the way she had, with that smile...it was a piece of heaven. She'd utterly melted him.
He left out of respect for her. After she had gone so far as to tell him that seeing him with that bint he brought caused her pain, there was really no point in causing any further awkwardness for her.
He had slipped and apologized to her, for causing her pain. Apologized to her for causing *her* pain! What a bloody laugh riot. He kicked himself mentally for the loss of control. He had tried to turn it around, of course. "Or,..Good!," but how pathetic was that and far too late anyway. She just stood there with that smile, like an all too knowing angel.
The double edged sword that was Buffy Summers was too much, especially for a wedding. That taste of normalcy they could never have, even if they were together, publicly and without shame.
How could they? She was a slayer. He was a vampire. Good. Evil. She would be breaking records if she made it to age 25. He would live on indefinitely, untouched by age or the frailty brought on by time. He could never walk with her in the sunlight. He could never give her a normal life, marry her, have children... He acted as if these things never bothered him, but in truth he was aware of them, as much as she was.
It occurred to him then he was becoming more and more like his brooding grand-sire each minute.
'Wouldn't peaches just love that. To see me following in his nancy boy footsteps!'
Then he remembered Buffy with him in the house, that first time, as in fell in all around them without either of them noticing, Buffy with him in his crypt...*everywhere* in his crypt, oddly, except the bed. Buffy with him outside, in front of her house. 'Maybe Peaches wouldn't love it so much after all.' He thought at last with a small chuckle.
Things were better...for about three seconds.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Xander Harris had finally left the flea bag motel and taken to the streets. He still could not bring himself to go back to the apartment and face Anya. He couldn't get up the nerve to face any of them. To have to explain things that he never wanted to have to explain to them. Maybe later he could bring himself to do it. But not now. Now, he was avoiding them and having to explain himself at all costs.
He had walked for the rest of the afternoon after checking out of the motel. He had wandered without direction, sometimes staring off into space trying to imagine a way that things could be okay again, other times he just discreetly observed anonymous couples and families on afternoon strolls, as they window shopped or got a bite to eat.
He saw the happy ones, he saw the not-so happy ones. And he wondered for the millionth time which kind he and Anya would have been had he not...walked out on her. He wondered if he had made the right decision.
Now everyone was back home, safe and secure in their lighted houses. Not many people roamed the streets of Sunnydale after dark. Residents knew better than that. Even visitors usually heard through the grapevine that unless you were looking the suicidal route, moonlit walks in Sunnydale weren't really advisable.
There was nothing to see. He had been sitting in the park now on a bench for he didn't know how long. He didn't want to stay there anymore. He wanted to walk again, to move, to be going somewhere and know where he was going.
More than anything he just wanted to know where he was going.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spike was about to give up and go back to his crypt. Watch a little late night telly. He was bored of all this walking about in the night, listening to the breeze and thinking of Buffy in that very, very green dress. That very, very beautiful laugh, that he'd almost never heard since she gotten back from...
His thoughts were mercifully allowed to trail off when he heard a sound in the distance. Near the entrance to the cemetery he heard a scuffle begin. 'About bloody time!' He ran towards the noise, somewhere in the back of his mind still marveling at how he was now rushing to save some pathetic human's life that a few years ago he would've just as much enjoyed taking for himself. More marveling and mysterious than that however, was that he wasn't sure anymore how he felt about that anymore.
Once he came up on the scene he quickly noted a dark haired man struggling with a Kolariah demon. 'Hadn't been expecting one of those this time of year. I wonder what--,' his thoughts were interrupted by a grunting sound from the struggling human just as Spike was approaching the battle. The sound was unmistakable.
After a summer of fighting the forces of darkness together, he knew only too well the sound of Xander Harris.
In an instant he was pulling the demon back by it's large red dorsal fin and giving it all the frustration he had within him about the current sorry state of affairs that was his life, er,...unlife.
It was dead in all of fifteen seconds.
Xander looked dazed on the ground. Looking from Spike to the dead demon to his surroundings...as if he didn't know exactly how he'd gotten there. Spike reached out his hand with a smirk, helping the seemingly lost young man to his feet.
"Decide it was a good time for a 2 a.m. stroll? What the hell are you doing here anyway... shouldn't you be--," through the prattle with Xander a realization came crashing through. Spike looked around furiously with a sudden panic. "Where's demon girl?! Was there another one where that one came from?!"
"Wha-?"
"Another Kolariah! Wasn't demon girl with you?" He stared at Xander demandingly and Xander stared back thoughtfully more so than anything else. Surprised that Spike seemed so upset by the idea of something happening to Anya. The pause gave Spike sufficient time to be surprised by it as well.
"Anya wasn't with me." Xander stated flatly.
"Oh," Spike sighed feeling deflated by the loss of his sudden unexpected burst of anxiety. 'That's been happening more and more lately, come to think...' Something about the thought he was about to have disturbed him, so he pushed it away. He turned his full attention back to the mess of a man that stood in front of him.
For the first time completely taking in Xander's appearance, Spike noted that the boy was still wearing his penguin suit, which now looked ruined. He looked like hell, half dead, eyes far off and red rimmed as if he hadn't slept since the ceremony. His hair mused and his face unshaven. And unlike usual Xander fare he was now just standing there. Not speaking a word, staring at his scuffed and muddy shoes now with some pink-ish demon goo adorning them as well, as if he were waiting for Spike to say something. Spike, for his part, considered him with a furrowed brow of consideration. For the first time in their shared history, he thoughtfully weighed his words before speaking them.
"So,...what the bloody hell happened to you?"
Xander looked up at him, looking to be somewhere between stricken and offended that Spike had asked. He seemed to be considering what to say. Then he remembered suddenly who he was talking to. 'Hey this is Spike, we're talking about here. What do I care if he judges me...he's evil! I don't care what he thinks about it!' The thoughts were forceful but he still felt unsure. Yet, with Spike bluntness seemed the best option.
"I left Anya before the ceremony," his voice was flat and he didn't look up to meet Spike's eyes as he spoke.
"What!?," Spike sounded surprised, shocked even. Something inside Xander started to hurt even more. 'Even Spike thought I wouldn't be so stupid as to do this...' "Why? What the hell happened?"
Xander looked from side to side. He didn't want to talk about this now. Especially not with Spike! This was ridiculous. Of all the people...of all the non-people to run into...it had to be Spike!
"You know, Spike, I really don't feel like discussing this with you," he tried to reproduce the tone he always used in his Spike conversations, but he felt too tired to pull it off perfectly.
"Right then." There was another awkward pause in which Xander completely missed the almost imperceptible expression of hurt cross Spike's features.
Spike considered what had happened. Never had he thought that Xander and Anya wouldn't actually go through with their wedding. They had stuck through worse things than that surely... He'd accepted who she used to be, vengeance demon and all, and she'd accepted the more annoying aspects of his personality. They had gone through so much together, including a hell god. It just seemed a shame for them to call it quits now. So pointless. The ones who had love didn't even know well enough to hang onto it. 'Bloody hell, I've gone soft.' He felt sorry for them. Sorry for the demon-girl and sorry for the whelp.
He almost laughed out loud it was so ridiculous.
They just stood there in silence. Spike fully expected Xander to take off any minute after having had the resident 'thing' save his life, without so much as a word of thanks. Typical. To his surprise, Xander didn't budge. Instead he just stared at the Kolariah that had almost taken his life, stared at it almost regretfully.
Xander felt Spike's eyes boring into him and he looked at him. Then he looked at his shoe again. He began wiping the pink demon goo off on the grass.
"What was that thing anyway?"
"Kolariah demon. Nasty buggars. Usually hang around areas with lots of water. Ocean, a lake, if there's going to be a flood or something you might see them come into other areas. I would've thought this one wandered from the beach front but I don't know why a kolariah would come this far--"
There was a flash of light and a coinciding crash of thunder. Spike and Xander, deadpan expressions identical on each face, looked upwards to the overcast sky.
The downpour started.
As luck would have it, the pouring rains were the very least of their troubles.
Moments after the initial cloud burst, another Kolariah demon came barreling towards them. Only this one was much, much larger.
Xander had no idea where it had even come from. Neither had he the time to prepare for it to slam into him with all the force of a charging elephant. It was spewing that same pink goo, only more so. 'Why me?,' was the last conscious thought Xander registered when it hit him. Then there was nothing but darkness.
Spike was on it by that time. The Kolariah, Xander and Spike landed on the ground in one heavy heap. The Kolariah quickly turned it's attention to Spike, the obviously stronger of the two opponents.
It took Spike a little longer to deal with this one. Occasionally getting knocked away. In the time it would take him to recover and get back on his feet, the Kolariah would have moved over to Xander's motionless form, preparing to consume it by covering him in the pink secretion, a substance that acted as a digestive aid for the creature. 'Hope that tux wasn't a rental,' he thought, as he charged the Kolariah one last time.
Stakes weren't the most effective weapons against demons such as Kolariahs but he had to improvise. It wasn't pretty. But it was satisfying. It had been the kind of thing Spike had been longing for all night. Very invigorating.
But now he was left with a problem.
Once the Kolariah was taken care of, he was left soaking wet, standing in the pouring rain of the cemetery, an unconscious Xander Harris covered in pink goo on the ground in front of him.
At least the rain would wash off the digestive gunk that was covering him, but Spike had to wonder now what he should do with the boy.
'Should leave him here is what I should do!'
He thought about it for a few seconds. But he realized he couldn't just leave the boy there. 'I mean, then I would've just sodding wasted this whole thing, saving his sorry life and all.' Having decided, he heaved an exasperated and equally unnecessary sigh, walking over to the still unconscious form, waiting until he saw that the rain water had indeed washed off all the Kolariah's digestive goo. And then, hating every moment, he scooped him up to take him to his crypt until he came to.
To Be Continued...
One very, very long hour.
His mind kept both blessing and brutalizing him with the image of Buffy at the wedding. That had been the last time he'd seen her. They were pretty much steering clear of each other since she had called it off with him.
The Harris wedding had been the first time he'd seen her since, and the last. He hadn't heard from her, the bit or any of them. He had thought of sneaking around Buffy's house to see how things were, but he'd only get caught and be scolded by her again. She'd then go on to tell him once again how it was over between them. That was something he wasn't prepared to hear again right now.
Buffy...she had looked so beautiful that day. Amazing that even she could pull it off in that bloody abomination of a dress. But she had. She was radiant, her smile lit up with room every time she entered it.
And it had ripped his heart out while making him deliriously happy at the same time.
To see her that happy, knowing it was probably from the relief...no longer having to feel the guilt she'd been feeling for having allowed herself to be with a 'thing' like him.
Yet, she was happy and that had to count for something.
When she made that crack about the dress being radio-active and looked at him the way she had, with that smile...it was a piece of heaven. She'd utterly melted him.
He left out of respect for her. After she had gone so far as to tell him that seeing him with that bint he brought caused her pain, there was really no point in causing any further awkwardness for her.
He had slipped and apologized to her, for causing her pain. Apologized to her for causing *her* pain! What a bloody laugh riot. He kicked himself mentally for the loss of control. He had tried to turn it around, of course. "Or,..Good!," but how pathetic was that and far too late anyway. She just stood there with that smile, like an all too knowing angel.
The double edged sword that was Buffy Summers was too much, especially for a wedding. That taste of normalcy they could never have, even if they were together, publicly and without shame.
How could they? She was a slayer. He was a vampire. Good. Evil. She would be breaking records if she made it to age 25. He would live on indefinitely, untouched by age or the frailty brought on by time. He could never walk with her in the sunlight. He could never give her a normal life, marry her, have children... He acted as if these things never bothered him, but in truth he was aware of them, as much as she was.
It occurred to him then he was becoming more and more like his brooding grand-sire each minute.
'Wouldn't peaches just love that. To see me following in his nancy boy footsteps!'
Then he remembered Buffy with him in the house, that first time, as in fell in all around them without either of them noticing, Buffy with him in his crypt...*everywhere* in his crypt, oddly, except the bed. Buffy with him outside, in front of her house. 'Maybe Peaches wouldn't love it so much after all.' He thought at last with a small chuckle.
Things were better...for about three seconds.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Xander Harris had finally left the flea bag motel and taken to the streets. He still could not bring himself to go back to the apartment and face Anya. He couldn't get up the nerve to face any of them. To have to explain things that he never wanted to have to explain to them. Maybe later he could bring himself to do it. But not now. Now, he was avoiding them and having to explain himself at all costs.
He had walked for the rest of the afternoon after checking out of the motel. He had wandered without direction, sometimes staring off into space trying to imagine a way that things could be okay again, other times he just discreetly observed anonymous couples and families on afternoon strolls, as they window shopped or got a bite to eat.
He saw the happy ones, he saw the not-so happy ones. And he wondered for the millionth time which kind he and Anya would have been had he not...walked out on her. He wondered if he had made the right decision.
Now everyone was back home, safe and secure in their lighted houses. Not many people roamed the streets of Sunnydale after dark. Residents knew better than that. Even visitors usually heard through the grapevine that unless you were looking the suicidal route, moonlit walks in Sunnydale weren't really advisable.
There was nothing to see. He had been sitting in the park now on a bench for he didn't know how long. He didn't want to stay there anymore. He wanted to walk again, to move, to be going somewhere and know where he was going.
More than anything he just wanted to know where he was going.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spike was about to give up and go back to his crypt. Watch a little late night telly. He was bored of all this walking about in the night, listening to the breeze and thinking of Buffy in that very, very green dress. That very, very beautiful laugh, that he'd almost never heard since she gotten back from...
His thoughts were mercifully allowed to trail off when he heard a sound in the distance. Near the entrance to the cemetery he heard a scuffle begin. 'About bloody time!' He ran towards the noise, somewhere in the back of his mind still marveling at how he was now rushing to save some pathetic human's life that a few years ago he would've just as much enjoyed taking for himself. More marveling and mysterious than that however, was that he wasn't sure anymore how he felt about that anymore.
Once he came up on the scene he quickly noted a dark haired man struggling with a Kolariah demon. 'Hadn't been expecting one of those this time of year. I wonder what--,' his thoughts were interrupted by a grunting sound from the struggling human just as Spike was approaching the battle. The sound was unmistakable.
After a summer of fighting the forces of darkness together, he knew only too well the sound of Xander Harris.
In an instant he was pulling the demon back by it's large red dorsal fin and giving it all the frustration he had within him about the current sorry state of affairs that was his life, er,...unlife.
It was dead in all of fifteen seconds.
Xander looked dazed on the ground. Looking from Spike to the dead demon to his surroundings...as if he didn't know exactly how he'd gotten there. Spike reached out his hand with a smirk, helping the seemingly lost young man to his feet.
"Decide it was a good time for a 2 a.m. stroll? What the hell are you doing here anyway... shouldn't you be--," through the prattle with Xander a realization came crashing through. Spike looked around furiously with a sudden panic. "Where's demon girl?! Was there another one where that one came from?!"
"Wha-?"
"Another Kolariah! Wasn't demon girl with you?" He stared at Xander demandingly and Xander stared back thoughtfully more so than anything else. Surprised that Spike seemed so upset by the idea of something happening to Anya. The pause gave Spike sufficient time to be surprised by it as well.
"Anya wasn't with me." Xander stated flatly.
"Oh," Spike sighed feeling deflated by the loss of his sudden unexpected burst of anxiety. 'That's been happening more and more lately, come to think...' Something about the thought he was about to have disturbed him, so he pushed it away. He turned his full attention back to the mess of a man that stood in front of him.
For the first time completely taking in Xander's appearance, Spike noted that the boy was still wearing his penguin suit, which now looked ruined. He looked like hell, half dead, eyes far off and red rimmed as if he hadn't slept since the ceremony. His hair mused and his face unshaven. And unlike usual Xander fare he was now just standing there. Not speaking a word, staring at his scuffed and muddy shoes now with some pink-ish demon goo adorning them as well, as if he were waiting for Spike to say something. Spike, for his part, considered him with a furrowed brow of consideration. For the first time in their shared history, he thoughtfully weighed his words before speaking them.
"So,...what the bloody hell happened to you?"
Xander looked up at him, looking to be somewhere between stricken and offended that Spike had asked. He seemed to be considering what to say. Then he remembered suddenly who he was talking to. 'Hey this is Spike, we're talking about here. What do I care if he judges me...he's evil! I don't care what he thinks about it!' The thoughts were forceful but he still felt unsure. Yet, with Spike bluntness seemed the best option.
"I left Anya before the ceremony," his voice was flat and he didn't look up to meet Spike's eyes as he spoke.
"What!?," Spike sounded surprised, shocked even. Something inside Xander started to hurt even more. 'Even Spike thought I wouldn't be so stupid as to do this...' "Why? What the hell happened?"
Xander looked from side to side. He didn't want to talk about this now. Especially not with Spike! This was ridiculous. Of all the people...of all the non-people to run into...it had to be Spike!
"You know, Spike, I really don't feel like discussing this with you," he tried to reproduce the tone he always used in his Spike conversations, but he felt too tired to pull it off perfectly.
"Right then." There was another awkward pause in which Xander completely missed the almost imperceptible expression of hurt cross Spike's features.
Spike considered what had happened. Never had he thought that Xander and Anya wouldn't actually go through with their wedding. They had stuck through worse things than that surely... He'd accepted who she used to be, vengeance demon and all, and she'd accepted the more annoying aspects of his personality. They had gone through so much together, including a hell god. It just seemed a shame for them to call it quits now. So pointless. The ones who had love didn't even know well enough to hang onto it. 'Bloody hell, I've gone soft.' He felt sorry for them. Sorry for the demon-girl and sorry for the whelp.
He almost laughed out loud it was so ridiculous.
They just stood there in silence. Spike fully expected Xander to take off any minute after having had the resident 'thing' save his life, without so much as a word of thanks. Typical. To his surprise, Xander didn't budge. Instead he just stared at the Kolariah that had almost taken his life, stared at it almost regretfully.
Xander felt Spike's eyes boring into him and he looked at him. Then he looked at his shoe again. He began wiping the pink demon goo off on the grass.
"What was that thing anyway?"
"Kolariah demon. Nasty buggars. Usually hang around areas with lots of water. Ocean, a lake, if there's going to be a flood or something you might see them come into other areas. I would've thought this one wandered from the beach front but I don't know why a kolariah would come this far--"
There was a flash of light and a coinciding crash of thunder. Spike and Xander, deadpan expressions identical on each face, looked upwards to the overcast sky.
The downpour started.
As luck would have it, the pouring rains were the very least of their troubles.
Moments after the initial cloud burst, another Kolariah demon came barreling towards them. Only this one was much, much larger.
Xander had no idea where it had even come from. Neither had he the time to prepare for it to slam into him with all the force of a charging elephant. It was spewing that same pink goo, only more so. 'Why me?,' was the last conscious thought Xander registered when it hit him. Then there was nothing but darkness.
Spike was on it by that time. The Kolariah, Xander and Spike landed on the ground in one heavy heap. The Kolariah quickly turned it's attention to Spike, the obviously stronger of the two opponents.
It took Spike a little longer to deal with this one. Occasionally getting knocked away. In the time it would take him to recover and get back on his feet, the Kolariah would have moved over to Xander's motionless form, preparing to consume it by covering him in the pink secretion, a substance that acted as a digestive aid for the creature. 'Hope that tux wasn't a rental,' he thought, as he charged the Kolariah one last time.
Stakes weren't the most effective weapons against demons such as Kolariahs but he had to improvise. It wasn't pretty. But it was satisfying. It had been the kind of thing Spike had been longing for all night. Very invigorating.
But now he was left with a problem.
Once the Kolariah was taken care of, he was left soaking wet, standing in the pouring rain of the cemetery, an unconscious Xander Harris covered in pink goo on the ground in front of him.
At least the rain would wash off the digestive gunk that was covering him, but Spike had to wonder now what he should do with the boy.
'Should leave him here is what I should do!'
He thought about it for a few seconds. But he realized he couldn't just leave the boy there. 'I mean, then I would've just sodding wasted this whole thing, saving his sorry life and all.' Having decided, he heaved an exasperated and equally unnecessary sigh, walking over to the still unconscious form, waiting until he saw that the rain water had indeed washed off all the Kolariah's digestive goo. And then, hating every moment, he scooped him up to take him to his crypt until he came to.
To Be Continued...