The Long Summer 7
If he thought the shower was going to help, he was sorely mistaken. He found Spike settled comfortably into an armchair when he returned to the living room. The shave and the shower did, however, relieve him of the awful grogginess that was plaguing him. He could deal with the vampire now. Just go out and tell him to get out. He was a day behind on all his work, didn't have time to deal with this.
Spike looked at him expectantly when he walked into the living room. "I put some coffee on." He gestured towards the kitchen and now that he mentioned it, Xander could smell the fresh roasted beans percolating. It was like nirvana and his mouth watered at the thought.
"Starbuck's?" He asked, curious despite himself.
"Yep. Two pounds of light note, ground for a flat bottom and some of that Columbian Bold special feature they were running. It tastes really good with a fresh pack of - well, it tastes good."
Xander held out his hand. "Thank you. I really don't want to know what tastes good with blood. It will kill the mood."
"What mood is that mate?"
"The mood where I haven't staked you yet."
"Oh, let's not get back on that, shall we?"
"We never left that, Spike." Xander said his name through gritted teeth. It was like sandpaper on an already irritated wound. He walked into the kitchen and found that Spike's Mary Poppins seemed to have extended to more than just stocking the refrigerator.
It was cleaner than Xander could remember in months and there was a nice large coffee mug on the counter with a picture of Scooby on it. He picked up the mug and stared at it. Willow gave it to him for his birthday three years before. The official mug for someone in the Scooby gang.
It actually used to mean something.
He shoved that train of thought away and poured the coffee into the mug and added some sugar mechanically. When he returned to the living room, he found Spike where he left him. There seemed to be no avoiding the inevitable now as the two men stared at each other.
"So, let's hear it. I'm not dead, so you didn't come to kill me." Xander opened with what he felt was a reasonable tone of voice, despite how unreasonable he felt.
"No, you're not dead and no I didn't come to kill you." Spike agreed.
"Then why are you here?" Xander took a sip of the coffee and winced as it scalded his tongue. Despite the heat of it, the taste was excellent matching the aroma in full body and flavor. He almost sighed. He'd been drinking convenience store coffee for so long, he'd almost forgotten how good real coffee could be.
Before Spike could answer, the phone jingled. It sounded loud and jarring in the silence that blanketed the room. On the third ring, Spike lifted his brows. "Going to answer that?"
"Nope." Xander replied and on cue, his answering machine answered it with a false sense of cheerfulness informing the caller that he wasn't home and to leave a message at the beep.
"Xander - it's Buffy. Look, you can call me back or I'm going to come and find you, but we need to talk. There's a lot going on around that construction site and I can't believe you're working on rebuilding right over the hellmouth." She paused and a voice mumbled something in the background. "Oh and Dawn says you still need to come over for dinner. It's five now, you could make it by seven if you get this. Well - see ya."
The phone clicked and Xander's eyes rolled slightly before he looked back at Spike. The vampire was watching him with a keen interest and there was almost an air of speculation to him.
Xander didn't care for either sensation.
"Avoiding the Slayer, are you?"
"None of your business. Why are you here?"
"Well, that's the kick of it. I was on the way back to my Crypt when I saw you lying there all nice and tasty like a forgotten snack. After you passed out, figured it wouldn't be too bright to leave you there so I drove you and your junk heap home."
It sounded plausible, but in the scheme of things it just didn't make sense.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why not leave me there?"
"Because you might have died, would have made the Slayer sad." Spike shook his head. "Couldn't have that."
"Oh, so this is more get into Buffy's pants nonsense."
"Don't need you for that, mate." His response was quiet, assured and with utter conviction. "So you can quite holding yourself up worthy of something along those lines."
Hate surged through him, fast and violent. He flung the coffee mug at the smug vampire and lunged. The fight was shorter than he expected and within seconds, he was gasping for breath as Spike held him in a headlock.
"You done?" Spike asked casually. "Cause you just made a hell of a mess on my clean carpet."
"I hate you." Xander hissed through his teeth. "You're nothing but an undead parasite who's trying to steal my friends and my life and everything that ever made it a decent place to live despite being Sunnydale."
The grip around his neck loosened slightly and Xander took advantage of it, trying to elbow, bite and kick his way free. Three seconds later he was slammed into the floor, headlock tightened again.
"Look, you silly git. I don't want your life. I don't want your friends and I certainly don't want to keep doing this. So - you let me know when you're done and I'll let you go."
"Just kill me and get it over with." Xander wheezed.
"Problem with that one, mate. I don't want to kill you."
To his horror, the note of absolute sincerity in Spike's voice brought tears to his eyes and he squeezed them shut, trying to keep them from escaping. But his voice was still a ragged sob. "So, I'm not even good enough to die for a light snack."
"Pathetic." Spike dropped him all at once and rose to look down at where Xander sprawled. "You really are pathetic. Do you want to die that badly?"
"What's it matter to you? I thought you were a killer?" Xander groused, still fighting the tears that were trying to get out.
Spike shook his head and his face transformed into the hideous mask with yellow eyes. "Is THIS what you're looking for, Harris?" He demanded in a low hissing tone. "To be fodder? To die in some hole, forgotten and sad because your life is a shambles?"
"Go ahead then. Do it. Since you must have figured out a way to get rid of the chip. Go ahead - kill me."
Spike knelt down slowly, his mask vanishing to be replaced by the high-boned features. "No such luck for you mate. Right royal mess of our lives we've made and whether you like it or not, death isn't an answer. Oh, it'll end your pain, but it'll leave a lot in its wake. So you can keep on wallowing or you can be a man. Your choice."
Xander stared at Spike for a long moment and then shook his head. "You have no idea how hard it is."
"You've only screwed up for six years, Harris. I've been screwing up for over a hundred. I think I have a good idea."
"So - what you've changed?"
"Maybe." Spike shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know exactly. But I am not going to be the one to kill you and you aren't doing it while I'm around. So I guess you're out of luck."
"Story of my life."
Xander looked away from the vampire and shook his head. He felt naked, raw and beaten. He couldn't even convince the freak to kill him. So what did that leave for him?
"So change the channel." Spike suggested.
"What?" Xander dragged his attention back to the present.
"If that's the story of your existence, then change the channel. Like a bad network, go to a better one."
"It's not that easy."
"It's not that hard."
"Like you'd know."
"You'd be surprised. You just have to get over yourself first. Now - clean up that mess. I'll get you some more coffee."
Xander watched him go and felt a bitter, acrid taste in his mouth. He didn't want Spike to be his friend. But that's exactly what he'd just done and even Xander couldn't avoid admitting it. He'd locked himself away from the rest and it was the vampire he hated the most that wasn't letting him stay there.
Okay, maybe second most, but still.
He sat there for another long moment and then slowly moved to his feet to start gathering up the broken bits of the Scooby mug. It seemed a bit fitting that it was shattered now.
Just like everything else.
If he thought the shower was going to help, he was sorely mistaken. He found Spike settled comfortably into an armchair when he returned to the living room. The shave and the shower did, however, relieve him of the awful grogginess that was plaguing him. He could deal with the vampire now. Just go out and tell him to get out. He was a day behind on all his work, didn't have time to deal with this.
Spike looked at him expectantly when he walked into the living room. "I put some coffee on." He gestured towards the kitchen and now that he mentioned it, Xander could smell the fresh roasted beans percolating. It was like nirvana and his mouth watered at the thought.
"Starbuck's?" He asked, curious despite himself.
"Yep. Two pounds of light note, ground for a flat bottom and some of that Columbian Bold special feature they were running. It tastes really good with a fresh pack of - well, it tastes good."
Xander held out his hand. "Thank you. I really don't want to know what tastes good with blood. It will kill the mood."
"What mood is that mate?"
"The mood where I haven't staked you yet."
"Oh, let's not get back on that, shall we?"
"We never left that, Spike." Xander said his name through gritted teeth. It was like sandpaper on an already irritated wound. He walked into the kitchen and found that Spike's Mary Poppins seemed to have extended to more than just stocking the refrigerator.
It was cleaner than Xander could remember in months and there was a nice large coffee mug on the counter with a picture of Scooby on it. He picked up the mug and stared at it. Willow gave it to him for his birthday three years before. The official mug for someone in the Scooby gang.
It actually used to mean something.
He shoved that train of thought away and poured the coffee into the mug and added some sugar mechanically. When he returned to the living room, he found Spike where he left him. There seemed to be no avoiding the inevitable now as the two men stared at each other.
"So, let's hear it. I'm not dead, so you didn't come to kill me." Xander opened with what he felt was a reasonable tone of voice, despite how unreasonable he felt.
"No, you're not dead and no I didn't come to kill you." Spike agreed.
"Then why are you here?" Xander took a sip of the coffee and winced as it scalded his tongue. Despite the heat of it, the taste was excellent matching the aroma in full body and flavor. He almost sighed. He'd been drinking convenience store coffee for so long, he'd almost forgotten how good real coffee could be.
Before Spike could answer, the phone jingled. It sounded loud and jarring in the silence that blanketed the room. On the third ring, Spike lifted his brows. "Going to answer that?"
"Nope." Xander replied and on cue, his answering machine answered it with a false sense of cheerfulness informing the caller that he wasn't home and to leave a message at the beep.
"Xander - it's Buffy. Look, you can call me back or I'm going to come and find you, but we need to talk. There's a lot going on around that construction site and I can't believe you're working on rebuilding right over the hellmouth." She paused and a voice mumbled something in the background. "Oh and Dawn says you still need to come over for dinner. It's five now, you could make it by seven if you get this. Well - see ya."
The phone clicked and Xander's eyes rolled slightly before he looked back at Spike. The vampire was watching him with a keen interest and there was almost an air of speculation to him.
Xander didn't care for either sensation.
"Avoiding the Slayer, are you?"
"None of your business. Why are you here?"
"Well, that's the kick of it. I was on the way back to my Crypt when I saw you lying there all nice and tasty like a forgotten snack. After you passed out, figured it wouldn't be too bright to leave you there so I drove you and your junk heap home."
It sounded plausible, but in the scheme of things it just didn't make sense.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why not leave me there?"
"Because you might have died, would have made the Slayer sad." Spike shook his head. "Couldn't have that."
"Oh, so this is more get into Buffy's pants nonsense."
"Don't need you for that, mate." His response was quiet, assured and with utter conviction. "So you can quite holding yourself up worthy of something along those lines."
Hate surged through him, fast and violent. He flung the coffee mug at the smug vampire and lunged. The fight was shorter than he expected and within seconds, he was gasping for breath as Spike held him in a headlock.
"You done?" Spike asked casually. "Cause you just made a hell of a mess on my clean carpet."
"I hate you." Xander hissed through his teeth. "You're nothing but an undead parasite who's trying to steal my friends and my life and everything that ever made it a decent place to live despite being Sunnydale."
The grip around his neck loosened slightly and Xander took advantage of it, trying to elbow, bite and kick his way free. Three seconds later he was slammed into the floor, headlock tightened again.
"Look, you silly git. I don't want your life. I don't want your friends and I certainly don't want to keep doing this. So - you let me know when you're done and I'll let you go."
"Just kill me and get it over with." Xander wheezed.
"Problem with that one, mate. I don't want to kill you."
To his horror, the note of absolute sincerity in Spike's voice brought tears to his eyes and he squeezed them shut, trying to keep them from escaping. But his voice was still a ragged sob. "So, I'm not even good enough to die for a light snack."
"Pathetic." Spike dropped him all at once and rose to look down at where Xander sprawled. "You really are pathetic. Do you want to die that badly?"
"What's it matter to you? I thought you were a killer?" Xander groused, still fighting the tears that were trying to get out.
Spike shook his head and his face transformed into the hideous mask with yellow eyes. "Is THIS what you're looking for, Harris?" He demanded in a low hissing tone. "To be fodder? To die in some hole, forgotten and sad because your life is a shambles?"
"Go ahead then. Do it. Since you must have figured out a way to get rid of the chip. Go ahead - kill me."
Spike knelt down slowly, his mask vanishing to be replaced by the high-boned features. "No such luck for you mate. Right royal mess of our lives we've made and whether you like it or not, death isn't an answer. Oh, it'll end your pain, but it'll leave a lot in its wake. So you can keep on wallowing or you can be a man. Your choice."
Xander stared at Spike for a long moment and then shook his head. "You have no idea how hard it is."
"You've only screwed up for six years, Harris. I've been screwing up for over a hundred. I think I have a good idea."
"So - what you've changed?"
"Maybe." Spike shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know exactly. But I am not going to be the one to kill you and you aren't doing it while I'm around. So I guess you're out of luck."
"Story of my life."
Xander looked away from the vampire and shook his head. He felt naked, raw and beaten. He couldn't even convince the freak to kill him. So what did that leave for him?
"So change the channel." Spike suggested.
"What?" Xander dragged his attention back to the present.
"If that's the story of your existence, then change the channel. Like a bad network, go to a better one."
"It's not that easy."
"It's not that hard."
"Like you'd know."
"You'd be surprised. You just have to get over yourself first. Now - clean up that mess. I'll get you some more coffee."
Xander watched him go and felt a bitter, acrid taste in his mouth. He didn't want Spike to be his friend. But that's exactly what he'd just done and even Xander couldn't avoid admitting it. He'd locked himself away from the rest and it was the vampire he hated the most that wasn't letting him stay there.
Okay, maybe second most, but still.
He sat there for another long moment and then slowly moved to his feet to start gathering up the broken bits of the Scooby mug. It seemed a bit fitting that it was shattered now.
Just like everything else.