Chapter V - Motel VI
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The room was cold. Dampness seemed to permeate and cling to everything, chilling the stale air. The one thing that Spike hated about being a vampire (and that's not saying that he would ever change what he was given the choice) but never the less, he hated how cold it was. True, vampires didn't feel the cold like humans did, or rather they weren't effected by it, it was more of a personal preference. He hated being cold.
Right now there was little he could do to help it though, save curl up under the thinning blanket and pretend he had body heat, but then, master vampires didn't sleep in little balls. That's more of a kitten thing. He sighed, looking at the water stained sealing of the attic room and thought about the events leading up to this.
'William' had just finished telling Miss Mary Anne Wilson all about their incredibly, uneventfully dull travels and how he and Mr. Alexander Levelle came to be in the woods at that particular time of night. She had kindly agreed to show the weary travelers to the inn in town provided that they ". . . really must come to tea tomorrow and regale us with tales of your travels. It will be ever so exiting!" It was very difficult to bluff his way through the convoluted account of how their coach had been attacked. After scaring off the bandits, they decided to go on to the next town, sending the coachman back to " hmm, now what was the name of that quaint little town up the river.? 'Crofford?' Mary supplied helpfully, ah, yes, Crofford." They were apparently headed to London to stay with an acquaintance.
Spike had known more or less where they were from the moment they met the girl. He recognized the lilt in the accent. The familiar feeling he'd had all along suddenly made perfect sense. 'When' they were was another question. Outright asking what the year was may have sounded a little strange however. He could get Xander to do it. Somewhere in the course of the conversation it was established that the young man had hit his head pretty hard and was a little confused. That little bit of trivia saved a lot of explanations for the boys' 'odd' behavior.
Mary had declined going in to the inn with them, and upon Xanders' vehement protest against being left there alone, she left unescorted. 'Mrs. Cilia Young will be happy to provide me with an escort, you needn't trouble your selves. She lives not a minutes walk away. . ." That was the kicker. Just as Spike was conformable in the knowledge that things couldn't get much worse, there it was. Murphy's law. The alarm bells started ringing the second Mary uttered that name, and were unfortunately far too loud for the vampire to make out anything she had said after.
Saying a hasty goodbye to their new friend, the two entered the inn. Drawing the attention of the few hardy looking patrons, Spike procured a room for the night. 'I'd like to take you at your word sir, but. . .' Spike was too tired to try and talk his way out of the standing 'money first' rule, so he walked over to Xander, relieving him of his wrist watch. (Which wasn't hard since the more the boy saw, the more real it all became so he was a little out of it to say the least.) The innkeeper didn't immediately understand the purpose of the device, but once Spike explained what the digital numbers meant he agreed to let them stay for two nights, meals included. All Spike wanted to do now was get Xander somewhere quiet and try to get him out of the catatonically passive state he was in right now. Unfortunately for his plans, the innkeeper wanted to chit chat.
"who's your friend there? He's a bit quite, inn'e?"
Spike smiled politely and explained that they were both tired form the long journey.
"'e's a pretty one. I know you don't keep 'im round for the company, eh?"
The sleazy grin that spread over the mans face was enough to turn anyone's stomach. Xander remained blissfully oblivious as Spikes' own smile turned deadly. He leaned forward over the bar conspirationally and whispered something to the innkeeper. Those who had been watching saw the man blanch, then stutter helplessly through an apology and show the two strangers to their room.
So here they were. Xander finally fell asleep after the hot broth and some creative avoidance of the severity of their predicament on the part of Spike.
When they reached the top of the stairs the innkeeper handed Spike the room keys and a candle, scurrying away as fast as his chubby legs would carry him. Xander sat on the edge of one of the two beds in the attic room and started to rock gently. It's like he didn't want to see anymore of what was around him. The vampire knew that he'd be taking this a whole lot better if he wasn't exhausted and hungry. He sat next to Xander on the bed.
"pet? You still with me?"
His tone was soft but had no effect. Xander just kept staring at the wall. Placing a hand on the brunettes' shoulder he tried again
"Xander?"
That seemed to work. He felt the boy relax slightly under his touch as he looked down and swallowed. Then he looked at Spike. Oh God, that look said more that Xander could have even if he showed signs of trying. He really had no hope of getting back, did he? This had suddenly become his new reality, and understandably, he didn't like it much. Trying to imagine what it would be like to except the fact that they were stuck here forever, Spike knelt in front of the boy. There was nothing he could say right now though so he just rubbed Xanders' arm in a conforming gesture and hoped that the slayerette would find some way out of his own misery soon.
"stay right here, luv. I'll be right back."
Spike came back from the kitchen with a cup of broth and murmuring words of comfort got Xander to drink it.
"I'm ok now."
He finally said, despite the fact that he was far from it. At least he was talking. Spike stood Xander up and throwing back the blankets on the bed made him lay down, and pulled them over the boy. He wished there was more he could do, while part of him was questioning his need to tuck in one of the slayers' groupies.
"try to sleep. We'll find a way out of here tomorrow."
Spike said the last part with conviction and seeing the boy nod in response and close his eyes he went to lie down as well.
That was two hours ago.
Two hours of starring at the ceiling, thinking about why the fates had chosen to send them back here. Here and now. Cilia Young. That was a common enough name, Spike kept telling himself. But somehow he knew that this was more than some strange coincidence. Well it explained why the name of the town had sounded so familiar. And worst of all, that wasn't the most worrying thing. Neither was the fact that they were stuck in the past. # Xander. #
After the first hour, Spike realized that he was watching the boy sleep. He turned away, dismissing it, and found himself listing to his heart beat. He was concerned for the younger man, and his thoughts kept dwelling around that. Spike was willing to admit that, maybe they had become something like friends. With all of them. Somehow, between now and then he had gone form planning interesting ways of killing them all once the chip was out, to being a full time member of the Slayers' gang. He helped Rupert with translations, Sparred with Buffy, taught the witches how to play poker and made sure nothing ate Xander. Some how their expectance of him was worth more than most things that he'd had during his unlife. That in it self was worrying. But maybe he could live with it. He'd never been one to play by the rules, after all. But this. .. the vampire was willing to concede that he felt something for the boy breathing quietly across the room. *Something *. This is all he needed. # why pick what you can't have? Let's compare and contrast shall we? You - vampire. Xander- human. You- evil. Xander- caring, compassionate, perceptive, selfless, . . .# the list went on for a while, until Spike had convinced himself that there was no way Xander would ever want to be anything more than non-enemies, and even if he did, Spike wasn't sure he wanted to inflict himself on the boy. After all, he couldn't really know what kind of a monster Spike was. He didn't regret anything he had done during his 'master vampire' days. Did regretting not regretting mean anything? The vampire found himself hoping it did.
"St. . . Stop!"
Xander was tangled up in the sheets and clearly in the middle of a nightmare. Spike had been so deep in thought that he hadn't noticed until the boy mumbled something.
"Spike! Stop. . ."
Before he had a chance to think the vampire was shaking Xander awake. He couldn't have misheard. That was his name right? # what did you expect? You got the starring role in his nightmares, you should be flattered. #
"Xander, wake up!"
@
# What is it? I'm awake, what is it? # Suddenly Xander realized that he was only thinking it, because he couldn't hear anything else apart from his ragged breathing, and someone, # Spike. # his brain supplied, yes, Spike calling his name. There was a big chunk of something missing. Like he was feeling the effects of whatever it was, but the thing itself was gone. A moment later he wished it would have stayed that way. Memory came crashing back, along with the latest installment of 'make Xander go nuts', the nightmare he'd just apparently been woken up from. By Spike. Xander stopped gasping for air suddenly. He wasn't still asleep was he? He looked at Spike. No. He was awake.
This was his Spike. # *my* Spike? # well the crucial difference was that this one wasn't trying to kill him. He sighed.
"alright, alright, I'm awake. . ."
Spike stopped shaking him. Was that concern? Panic? # mind games? #
"hey. You had me worried for a second there, whelp. What did you dream?"
# Coaxing tone. He really wants to know? # Xander debated weather or not he should tell Spike about the nightmare. He knew he should, since at least they could figure out what to do with the reality of it, but. . . yeah, he should tell him.
"Oh y'know. Just your average run of the mill 'Xander buffet' nightmare. Nothing special."
Apparently though, that gave away something more than he'd intended, by the look on Spikes' face. The slayerette wondered if he still did that 'talking in your sleep' thing. So now he couldn't not tell him. . . in resignation, he turned to face the wall. Technicolor images flashed beneath his closed eyelids.
"In my dream, you were dying. . . You said um. . ., the only thing I could do was cut my wrist and let you, y'know. . . well, you kind'a got a tad carried away with the whole draining me thing. I told you to stop but you. . .ah, I know, it's stupid, you can't bite me. See me laughing."
Xander rushed through the explanation, clearly uncomfortable and then turned on to his back, to face the consequences.
Spike just sat there looking at him for a moment. The expression on his face was unreadable. The vampire, heaving discovered that his way of dealing with the situation was to overcompensate in taking care of Xanders' way of dealing, went going to great lengths to hide his feelings. Xanders' way of dealing, of course was to shut down for a while and sort things out, like he always did, only more extreme. This meant he was mostly unaware of Spikes' actions before, but now that he was more himself again. . . Spike couldn't just sit there and do nothing though. He had to reassure the boy somehow. Without it appearing out of the ordinary. That's the last thing Xand. . . # the whelp # needed.
"Are you hungry?"
The question was so loaded that it probably shouldn't be moved without precautions. It served to break Spike out of his musings though.
"Listen, I would never want you to do that."
Xander was trying hard not to flinch, seeing as how the vampire next to him wasn't acting the way Xander thought he would. In fact he seemed down right angry at Xander for suggesting it. Some times Spike was like two different people. At least one of them was Xanders' friend, and the other was, well his non-enemy. One guess as to which one he just insulted. . .
"Hey, I know you'd never ask, but-"
Spike could see where this was going long before it got there. He knew what the boy was offering. All his resolve to keep up appearances melted like so much ice-cream.
He smiled and pulled the blanket higher over Xander, getting up.
"No. I would never *want* you to do that precious. Sleep now."
Xander stared. # Split personality disorder, much? # . . . # did he just call me 'precious' ? #
While Xander brushed it off as a Spike-ism, the vampire was in denial about it ever happening. # . . . I am henry the eighth, I am. . . #
Getting up, the vampire made sure the window was covered and climbed back in to bed, definitely *not* watching Xander who was definitely *not* thinking about Spike.
TBC. . .
[Comments: In a review someone happened to mention that the conduct of the inn keeper was unheard of in the time period and thus lacks factual validity. While I would have liked to do a little more research in to this time period before writing this, I'd like to state that this was hardly the cream of society and his behavior is not completely out of the ball park. I also feel I'm allowed some amount of artistic licensee as this is fiction, and I like Spike getting all protective:)]
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The room was cold. Dampness seemed to permeate and cling to everything, chilling the stale air. The one thing that Spike hated about being a vampire (and that's not saying that he would ever change what he was given the choice) but never the less, he hated how cold it was. True, vampires didn't feel the cold like humans did, or rather they weren't effected by it, it was more of a personal preference. He hated being cold.
Right now there was little he could do to help it though, save curl up under the thinning blanket and pretend he had body heat, but then, master vampires didn't sleep in little balls. That's more of a kitten thing. He sighed, looking at the water stained sealing of the attic room and thought about the events leading up to this.
'William' had just finished telling Miss Mary Anne Wilson all about their incredibly, uneventfully dull travels and how he and Mr. Alexander Levelle came to be in the woods at that particular time of night. She had kindly agreed to show the weary travelers to the inn in town provided that they ". . . really must come to tea tomorrow and regale us with tales of your travels. It will be ever so exiting!" It was very difficult to bluff his way through the convoluted account of how their coach had been attacked. After scaring off the bandits, they decided to go on to the next town, sending the coachman back to " hmm, now what was the name of that quaint little town up the river.? 'Crofford?' Mary supplied helpfully, ah, yes, Crofford." They were apparently headed to London to stay with an acquaintance.
Spike had known more or less where they were from the moment they met the girl. He recognized the lilt in the accent. The familiar feeling he'd had all along suddenly made perfect sense. 'When' they were was another question. Outright asking what the year was may have sounded a little strange however. He could get Xander to do it. Somewhere in the course of the conversation it was established that the young man had hit his head pretty hard and was a little confused. That little bit of trivia saved a lot of explanations for the boys' 'odd' behavior.
Mary had declined going in to the inn with them, and upon Xanders' vehement protest against being left there alone, she left unescorted. 'Mrs. Cilia Young will be happy to provide me with an escort, you needn't trouble your selves. She lives not a minutes walk away. . ." That was the kicker. Just as Spike was conformable in the knowledge that things couldn't get much worse, there it was. Murphy's law. The alarm bells started ringing the second Mary uttered that name, and were unfortunately far too loud for the vampire to make out anything she had said after.
Saying a hasty goodbye to their new friend, the two entered the inn. Drawing the attention of the few hardy looking patrons, Spike procured a room for the night. 'I'd like to take you at your word sir, but. . .' Spike was too tired to try and talk his way out of the standing 'money first' rule, so he walked over to Xander, relieving him of his wrist watch. (Which wasn't hard since the more the boy saw, the more real it all became so he was a little out of it to say the least.) The innkeeper didn't immediately understand the purpose of the device, but once Spike explained what the digital numbers meant he agreed to let them stay for two nights, meals included. All Spike wanted to do now was get Xander somewhere quiet and try to get him out of the catatonically passive state he was in right now. Unfortunately for his plans, the innkeeper wanted to chit chat.
"who's your friend there? He's a bit quite, inn'e?"
Spike smiled politely and explained that they were both tired form the long journey.
"'e's a pretty one. I know you don't keep 'im round for the company, eh?"
The sleazy grin that spread over the mans face was enough to turn anyone's stomach. Xander remained blissfully oblivious as Spikes' own smile turned deadly. He leaned forward over the bar conspirationally and whispered something to the innkeeper. Those who had been watching saw the man blanch, then stutter helplessly through an apology and show the two strangers to their room.
So here they were. Xander finally fell asleep after the hot broth and some creative avoidance of the severity of their predicament on the part of Spike.
When they reached the top of the stairs the innkeeper handed Spike the room keys and a candle, scurrying away as fast as his chubby legs would carry him. Xander sat on the edge of one of the two beds in the attic room and started to rock gently. It's like he didn't want to see anymore of what was around him. The vampire knew that he'd be taking this a whole lot better if he wasn't exhausted and hungry. He sat next to Xander on the bed.
"pet? You still with me?"
His tone was soft but had no effect. Xander just kept staring at the wall. Placing a hand on the brunettes' shoulder he tried again
"Xander?"
That seemed to work. He felt the boy relax slightly under his touch as he looked down and swallowed. Then he looked at Spike. Oh God, that look said more that Xander could have even if he showed signs of trying. He really had no hope of getting back, did he? This had suddenly become his new reality, and understandably, he didn't like it much. Trying to imagine what it would be like to except the fact that they were stuck here forever, Spike knelt in front of the boy. There was nothing he could say right now though so he just rubbed Xanders' arm in a conforming gesture and hoped that the slayerette would find some way out of his own misery soon.
"stay right here, luv. I'll be right back."
Spike came back from the kitchen with a cup of broth and murmuring words of comfort got Xander to drink it.
"I'm ok now."
He finally said, despite the fact that he was far from it. At least he was talking. Spike stood Xander up and throwing back the blankets on the bed made him lay down, and pulled them over the boy. He wished there was more he could do, while part of him was questioning his need to tuck in one of the slayers' groupies.
"try to sleep. We'll find a way out of here tomorrow."
Spike said the last part with conviction and seeing the boy nod in response and close his eyes he went to lie down as well.
That was two hours ago.
Two hours of starring at the ceiling, thinking about why the fates had chosen to send them back here. Here and now. Cilia Young. That was a common enough name, Spike kept telling himself. But somehow he knew that this was more than some strange coincidence. Well it explained why the name of the town had sounded so familiar. And worst of all, that wasn't the most worrying thing. Neither was the fact that they were stuck in the past. # Xander. #
After the first hour, Spike realized that he was watching the boy sleep. He turned away, dismissing it, and found himself listing to his heart beat. He was concerned for the younger man, and his thoughts kept dwelling around that. Spike was willing to admit that, maybe they had become something like friends. With all of them. Somehow, between now and then he had gone form planning interesting ways of killing them all once the chip was out, to being a full time member of the Slayers' gang. He helped Rupert with translations, Sparred with Buffy, taught the witches how to play poker and made sure nothing ate Xander. Some how their expectance of him was worth more than most things that he'd had during his unlife. That in it self was worrying. But maybe he could live with it. He'd never been one to play by the rules, after all. But this. .. the vampire was willing to concede that he felt something for the boy breathing quietly across the room. *Something *. This is all he needed. # why pick what you can't have? Let's compare and contrast shall we? You - vampire. Xander- human. You- evil. Xander- caring, compassionate, perceptive, selfless, . . .# the list went on for a while, until Spike had convinced himself that there was no way Xander would ever want to be anything more than non-enemies, and even if he did, Spike wasn't sure he wanted to inflict himself on the boy. After all, he couldn't really know what kind of a monster Spike was. He didn't regret anything he had done during his 'master vampire' days. Did regretting not regretting mean anything? The vampire found himself hoping it did.
"St. . . Stop!"
Xander was tangled up in the sheets and clearly in the middle of a nightmare. Spike had been so deep in thought that he hadn't noticed until the boy mumbled something.
"Spike! Stop. . ."
Before he had a chance to think the vampire was shaking Xander awake. He couldn't have misheard. That was his name right? # what did you expect? You got the starring role in his nightmares, you should be flattered. #
"Xander, wake up!"
@
# What is it? I'm awake, what is it? # Suddenly Xander realized that he was only thinking it, because he couldn't hear anything else apart from his ragged breathing, and someone, # Spike. # his brain supplied, yes, Spike calling his name. There was a big chunk of something missing. Like he was feeling the effects of whatever it was, but the thing itself was gone. A moment later he wished it would have stayed that way. Memory came crashing back, along with the latest installment of 'make Xander go nuts', the nightmare he'd just apparently been woken up from. By Spike. Xander stopped gasping for air suddenly. He wasn't still asleep was he? He looked at Spike. No. He was awake.
This was his Spike. # *my* Spike? # well the crucial difference was that this one wasn't trying to kill him. He sighed.
"alright, alright, I'm awake. . ."
Spike stopped shaking him. Was that concern? Panic? # mind games? #
"hey. You had me worried for a second there, whelp. What did you dream?"
# Coaxing tone. He really wants to know? # Xander debated weather or not he should tell Spike about the nightmare. He knew he should, since at least they could figure out what to do with the reality of it, but. . . yeah, he should tell him.
"Oh y'know. Just your average run of the mill 'Xander buffet' nightmare. Nothing special."
Apparently though, that gave away something more than he'd intended, by the look on Spikes' face. The slayerette wondered if he still did that 'talking in your sleep' thing. So now he couldn't not tell him. . . in resignation, he turned to face the wall. Technicolor images flashed beneath his closed eyelids.
"In my dream, you were dying. . . You said um. . ., the only thing I could do was cut my wrist and let you, y'know. . . well, you kind'a got a tad carried away with the whole draining me thing. I told you to stop but you. . .ah, I know, it's stupid, you can't bite me. See me laughing."
Xander rushed through the explanation, clearly uncomfortable and then turned on to his back, to face the consequences.
Spike just sat there looking at him for a moment. The expression on his face was unreadable. The vampire, heaving discovered that his way of dealing with the situation was to overcompensate in taking care of Xanders' way of dealing, went going to great lengths to hide his feelings. Xanders' way of dealing, of course was to shut down for a while and sort things out, like he always did, only more extreme. This meant he was mostly unaware of Spikes' actions before, but now that he was more himself again. . . Spike couldn't just sit there and do nothing though. He had to reassure the boy somehow. Without it appearing out of the ordinary. That's the last thing Xand. . . # the whelp # needed.
"Are you hungry?"
The question was so loaded that it probably shouldn't be moved without precautions. It served to break Spike out of his musings though.
"Listen, I would never want you to do that."
Xander was trying hard not to flinch, seeing as how the vampire next to him wasn't acting the way Xander thought he would. In fact he seemed down right angry at Xander for suggesting it. Some times Spike was like two different people. At least one of them was Xanders' friend, and the other was, well his non-enemy. One guess as to which one he just insulted. . .
"Hey, I know you'd never ask, but-"
Spike could see where this was going long before it got there. He knew what the boy was offering. All his resolve to keep up appearances melted like so much ice-cream.
He smiled and pulled the blanket higher over Xander, getting up.
"No. I would never *want* you to do that precious. Sleep now."
Xander stared. # Split personality disorder, much? # . . . # did he just call me 'precious' ? #
While Xander brushed it off as a Spike-ism, the vampire was in denial about it ever happening. # . . . I am henry the eighth, I am. . . #
Getting up, the vampire made sure the window was covered and climbed back in to bed, definitely *not* watching Xander who was definitely *not* thinking about Spike.
TBC. . .
[Comments: In a review someone happened to mention that the conduct of the inn keeper was unheard of in the time period and thus lacks factual validity. While I would have liked to do a little more research in to this time period before writing this, I'd like to state that this was hardly the cream of society and his behavior is not completely out of the ball park. I also feel I'm allowed some amount of artistic licensee as this is fiction, and I like Spike getting all protective:)]