Chapter Three

Loud coughing brought Spike out of his restless nap. Yawning, he rubbed sleep out of his eyes and turned toward the source of the coughing. The boy had finally woken up. Spike crossed his arms across his chest and glared, though deliberately not meeting the other man's eye.

"You've changed," Spike said weakly after a moment of attempting to look annoyed.

The younger man chuckled dryly. "That's all you've got? No, 'nice to see you, Xan?' No, 'how's the gang, Pirate-Boy?'"

"Harris..."

Xander Harris gave another humourless laugh and sat up. "Don't, Spike," he snapped. "I've had enough pity; I don't need yours too."

Spike blinked in surprise. "I wasn't-"

"Save it. I'm a telepath, remember? I can feel your pity." Xander tore off the bandages around his chest and shoulder, throwing them to the floor. Spike rose out of his chair to assist the younger male, but a sharp mental shove sent him back down hard.

"Look, Harris, I know you want to leave, but the doc's gonna need to continue your treatment," he said slowly, as if speaking to a wild animal.

Xander shot him a look of pure contempt. "She's done her job; I can finish it." Even as he spoke, the wounds in his shoulder and chest closed, leaving sensitive new flesh behind. At Spike's look, he explained. "As long as someone else starts the healing process, I can speed it up."
"Handy trick."

"You have no idea. Now, before your friend tells Deadboy about me, do you mind finding me some clothes? Not exactly looking forward to seeing him anyway, and I'd really rather be dressed."

Spike nodded and tossed Xander a duffel bag that he had stashed under his chair. "I figured that none of my kit would fit you. Nicked some of Gunn's; he's about your size."

"He won't mind?"

"Nah. Not as long as you give 'em back after you get your own." Spike rose and gestured toward the door. "I'll wait outside until you're dressed, then I want to know why the Council wants you dead."

Xander's intense gaze didn't waver. "You'll hear it when I tell Angel and his team. I really don't feel like repeating myself."

Inwardly, Spike cursed. He was impatient to hear how the goofy man-child he had known back in Sunnydale had turned into a killer. Or a telepath, for that matter. With a tight smile at the human, the Brit left the room.

Ignoring the No Smoking sign, Spike pulled out a packet of cigarettes and his lighter. He tapped a cigarette out and lit it with trembling hands, cursing his shattered nerves. He never wanted to admit it, but he had always had a grudging respect for Xander. The boy's fierce loyalty and bravery had always amazed the vampire, and seeing him in the Security wing, single eye nearly black with rage and pain had unnerved Spike. He wasn't sure why he cared about what had happened to the younger man, but his demon roared its anger that something had dared to touch what was his.

Wait. Spike quickly replayed his last few thoughts, and to his dismay, his fears were confirmed. His demon had acknowledged Xander as his. He groaned softly and let his head fall back and hit the wall behind him.

Xander sodding Harris.

"Love's bitch," he muttered to himself, taking a long drag on his nearly burned out fag.

"Who's a bitch?"

"Just thinking out loud, Fred," Spike replied without opening his eyes. Normally, he would explain his problem to her, but he didn't want to admit caring for the boy, as if not talking or thinking about his attraction would make it go away. Sure, he had fucked men before, and would easily continue to, but this was Xander.

Fred raised a delicate eyebrow, but let the comment slide. Spike knew that she would drag the information out of him sooner or later, and hoped rather fervently that it would be later. Much later. Preferably when she was drunk.

"How's the telepath? Has he woken up yet?"

Spike ground the cigarette butt under his heel. "He's awake. Won't tell me a bloody thing, though. He wants to wait until he can give all of us the story at the same time."

"So he's on our side."

"Seems that way. The Council was right about him bein' unpredictable, though. His mood swings are worse than the Poof's."

Fred laughed. "I find that hard to believe," she said.

"Believe it," Spike grunted. "Come on. I'll introduce you to the pup."

Fred was surprised to see the ex-Operative on his feet so quickly. When she and Spike entered the room, the young man was dressed and running a brush through his dark hair, looking like he had just woken up from a nap, rather than recovering from several gunshot wounds.

Spike leaned against the wall, his face not betraying any emotion. "Fred, this is Alexander Harris; Xander, this is Winifred Burkle, chief of the Science Department and the best mate a vamp could ask for," he stated with a faint smile in Fred's direction.

Xander turned to her and tied his long hair back with a deft twist. "I owe you my life, Ms. Burkle," he said quietly, a hint of warmth reaching his eye.

"Fred, please," she said smiling. "And I wouldn't go as far as to say that you owe me your life. I mean, if I hadn't found you-"

"I would've died," Xander finished for her. "Nobody else would've helped me. I reacted too quickly with those guards."

Spike cleared his throat loudly, raising his scarred eyebrow and giving Xander a pointed look.

"Fine, Bleach Boy. I reacted too quickly with you too."

"Bloody right."

Fred looked at the vampire, then the telepath, then back again. "You guys knew each other before this, didn't you."

Xander grinned. "Oh yeah. Me an' Spike go way back. First met him when I was seventeen and Angel offered my neck to him as a gift," he said airily.

"Angel tried to kill you?"

"Not really. We were a decoy, but Spike called Deadboy's bluff. Damn good thing too; otherwise I'd be Bleachy's pet for all eternity," Xander explained, taking a seat on the edge of the hospital bed.

At the word "pet," Spike's sky blue eyes darkened to a dark cobalt and he shifted uncomfortably. Fred shot him a questioning look, which he studiously ignored. The English vampire had been acting strangely ever since they had brought Xander into the infirmary. He had been quiet and subdued, rarely speaking and smiling even less. Fred was concerned, but knew better than to tell that to Spike. She knew just how insecure he could be.

"So, when's Deadboy going to see me?" Xander asked.

Fred checked her watch and frowned. "He should've paged me fifteen minutes ago." She looked at Spike. "Is he still in that meeting with Gunn and that demon clan?"

Spike shrugged. "Couldn't say. I've been here since we brought the whelp in."

"Aw, Spikey, I'm touched. You stayed in here until I woke up? You do care!" Xander teased, clasping a hand to his breast and speaking in a high voice.

"Wasn't like I had anything better to do, pup," Spike said darkly. "It was either stay with you or discuss bloody fashion with Harmony."

"Harmony? Harmony Kendall?" Xander sniggered. "You're still seeing her?"

"'Course not! She's the Poof's secretary, or somethin' like that."

Xander was laughing too hard to reply. The telepath had fallen back on the hospital bed, tears rolling down his cheek, his entire body shaking with mirth. Spike glared at him, which only made Xander laugh harder. Finally, the corners of Spike's mouth twitched and he gave in, joining the younger male in laughter.

Fred smiled as she watched the two men, not understanding what was obviously an inside joke, but not really caring. She was happy to see Spike laughing again and Xander showing some emotions. When she had first met the young man, he had been cold and uncaring. Now it seemed that Spike was the only one that made Xander show a bit of warmth.