Preying on my Mind
Chapter Seven
Xander pulled on his jeans
and watched Spike not moving. “I think Giles had that “I’m going to eat
all the
donuts if you’re not there to stop me’ sound to his voice,” he said,
opening
the door.
There was a hint, just a tiny
suggestion of hurt in Spike’s voice and Xander reacted instinctively,
moving
towards the bed and reaching out to touch Spike’s shoulder as he buried
his face
in the pillow. “No! God, no, Spike. I didn’t – you bastard, you’re
laughing!
You devious, disgraceful...”
“Delectable, divine...”
“Depraved and debauched,”
said Giles from the hallway, making no attempt to come in. “I’m sorry
to
interrupt the laudable attempt to improve Xander’s vocabulary but
breakfast is
ready. Downstairs now, please.” His voice managed to combine a
deceptive
mildness with the inflexibility of granite and Xander grimaced,
recognising the
signs that Giles was out of patience.
***
“I’m bloody certain, Watcher.
How many more times do I have to –”
Xander glared at Spike and
smiled at Giles in a complex series of facial contortions. “That would
be
great, Giles. Honest. So – what do you need? Point us at the books.”
“Not me. I’m not one of your
tame research geeks. Demon’s help is good enough for me.”
Xander sighed. “Spike, if
you’re done being the poster child for petulance, perhaps you’ll
forgive Giles
and believe him when he says they were sold out of sprinkles.”
“Might. Might not.”
“Oh, for God’s sake! Xander,
go home and bring me the charm. I want to see it. Spike, keep out of my
way
until he returns or I won’t be held responsible.”
Xander stood up, looking out
at the beautifully sunny day and then at Spike, wavering. “Giles? You
won’t do
anything?”
His meaning was clear, his
anxiety palpable, and Giles sighed, regretting his hasty words. “No. I
won’t.
Go.”
The door closed behind Xander
and Spike eased back in his chair and eyed Giles speculatively. He
waved his
hand around vaguely. “This helping thing...it’s on the level? Not going
to
accidentally do a spell and oh, whoops, Spike ended up dusty, what a
pity?”
“It’s tempting, “Giles said,
an edge to his voice, beginning to clear the table. “My only concern is
the
effect it might have on Xander.”
He took the dishes into the
kitchen and returned, leaning against the wall, arms folded. Spike
pursed his
lips and hooked a chair towards him to put his feet on. “I’m not
getting staked
because you don’t want to break Xander’s heart? Never took you for the
sentimental type.”
Giles walked over, swept the
chair away, letting Spike’s feet thud against the floor, and sat down
on it
himself. “I don’t give a toss about that. I want Xander to still be
alive to be
heartbroken, that’s all. These...hints about you being linked are
bothering me
and neither of you are being forthcoming; you through your memory loss,
Xander
through a combination of ignorance and embarrassment.”
“Ah, so that’s what you were
up to this morning? Trying to get Xander to see you as a friendly ear?
All
mates and yes, fuck Spike with my blessings, dear boy? Thought as much.
Not
that I’m complaining about the end result, mind you.”
Giles gave him a look that
would have stripped paint. “I _am_ Xander’s friend and have been for
some time.
Does that trouble you in some way?”
Spike considered the question
and finally shook his head. “No. Lad needs someone looking out for him.
Get the
feeling the Slayer and Red are too busy for him right now.” He cocked
his head
to the side. “You’re a bit out of the loop too, aren’t you?”
“Oh, spare me the sympathy.
Yes, my situation has altered and I’m finding life a little dull but
somehow I
don’t see that state of affairs continuing much longer.”
“Come again?”
Giles gave him a slow smile,
loaded with meaning. “It’s not crossed your mind to wonder what the
Slayer’s
reaction will be to all this?” He sighed theatrically. “I’ve tried but
she
still has this worrying impetuosity, a tendency to stake first and
apologise
later...”
“Bloody better not! Giles, do
something.” Spike looked petulant rather than perturbed, clearly not
overly
concerned.
“I rather thought I was,”
Giles said pointedly. “I’m not staking you and I’m devoting my day to
research.”
“What? Oh. Yeah. Thanks.”
“Please, Spike. Don’t get
effusive. It embarrasses us both.”
Spike grinned and for the
first time Giles returned it without considering the source. Then his
face went
hard.
“What?”
Giles swept off his glasses
and polished them on his shirt. “When you get the memories back, by
whatever
method, it will alter the dynamic of your relationship with Xander.”
“Do you have to talk all
fancy like that? Just say it, spit it out.”
Spike’s voice was impatient
but Giles noticed that his hand was clenching into a fist. “I mean that
you met
in unusual circumstances; that Xander was attracted to a person who in
a very
real sense no longer exists.”
“Seems happy enough with this
version. And he wasn’t exactly himself, remember? Should’ve thought
you’d be
glad I was different too. If I wasn’t, I’d be thinking about turning
him; you
know that right?”
Giles bit his lip, willing
his body to stay still when his instincts were clamouring at him to
remove the
threat to Xander. “If I thought there was even a remote possibility of
that,
I’d stake you now, Spike. Believe that.”
Spike nodded. “You’d have to
try. But if I could turn him, I could take you, remember. No chip.”
Giles laughed shortly. “I
think we’re getting a little
hypothetical here, though I confess I’m curious at to why you didn’t
turn him
when you could. But you can’t anymore and so I won’t be staking you
just yet. Let’s leave it at that. Now,
Xander should be
back soon so I think I’ll just make a start on finding some books that
might be
relevant.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Oh? Stopped sulking now?”
Spike stood up and walked
over to the bookshelves. “Never started, mate. Just wanted to distract
the boy
a bit. If he’d blushed any more when you asked if I was sitting
comfortably,
you could have made toast on his face.” He turned and stared at Giles,
his lips
curving with sardonic amusement. “You’re a right bastard, you know
that?”
Giles ducked his head to hide
an unrepentant smile. “Sorry.”
“You tease him again and I’ll
make you mean that.”
Giles jerked his head up.
“Are you threatening me, Spike?” he asked softly, his eyes curious,
watchful.
“Call it a warning. Xander’s
got enough to deal with. He doesn’t need to be laughed at too.”
Giles raised his hand, going
over to join him by the bookcase. “Peccavi,” he said, the Latin word
coming
automatically to his lips.
Spike’s eyes widened in
surprise. “Absolve,” he replied in kind.
Giles looked at him
speculatively but didn’t comment. “If you like, you can begin to read
through
these books,” he said, passing two over to Spike. He got out paper and
pens and
they settled down at the table in a silence broken only by Spike’s
fidgeting.
Giles wondered if Spike knew how many times he turned to look at the
door, how
his face sharpened with anticipation at every sound in the courtyard.
“He’ll be back soon,” he
offered eventually.
Spike glared at him. “What?”
“Xander. He’ll be –”
“I _know_ that. What makes
you think I care if he’s gone a while?”
Giles shook his head. “Never
mind.”
“Stupid wanker,” Spike
muttered.
“Don’t be so hard on
yourself, Spike,” Giles said amiably.
Spike snorted and bent his
head back to the book he was reading. Giles began to count silently.
Spike’s
head had turned before he reached three.
Xander’s return
with the charm came as a
welcome relief. Spike was out of his chair before the door opened, his
face
relaxing. He stepped towards him eagerly and then paused. Giles
frowned,
puzzled, and then saw that Xander was still framed by the sunlight
spilling
through the open door. Walking over, he casually closed it and
sauntered over
to the stairs. “Just going to check some books I have stored upstairs,”
he
said, not looking back.
Xander went to Spike,
reaching out his hand unthinkingly. “Well, I’m back,” he said. “Got the
charm
and –”
“Stop _talking_,” Spike said,
his voice ragged. Before Xander could react to the sudden flare of
emotion
Spike’s hands were cupping his face, barely touching his skin, Spike’s
lips were
on his mouth, brushing it softly, insistently. Xander’s arms were by
his side now
and Spike was standing far enough away that their bodies weren’t quite
touching.
Xander’s eyes closed as the cool hands held him still, gossamer light,
spider
web strong, and the hungry mouth sent him flying, floating, free. Three
points
of contact and his body was aching for more, but he couldn’t seem to
move,
could only kiss back, the need he felt spinning higher as the kiss grew
avid,
desperate. He was waiting, just waiting
for Spike to move forward, to break the spell that held him still, that
weighed
down his hands so that they couldn’t reach out but Spike seemed as
helpless as
he was. Xander had to look, had to see...his eyes opened and blazing
blue, like
a sun scorched summer sky, filled his vision as he looked directly into
Spike’s
eyes. Then Spike swayed forward, his hands dropping to Xander’s waist,
and
pulled him close. Xander felt the need rise within him and stopped
fighting it.
***
Giles gathered together three
books from the neatly labelled boxes and looked around at the discarded
lumber
intended for his shelves. So much had happened in a day, but life as a
Watcher
on a Hellmouth had made his priorities shift. No one was dead. It could have been worse. Deciding that he’d given
them long enough to get over the hell of being apart for almost an hour
and
marvelling at his own forbearance, he started to walk down the stairs.
Glancing down at the room
below, feeling awkward rather than embarrassed, Giles saw the two
figures
locked together tightly and flushed with annoyance. “Will you please
control
yourselves,” he snapped. “This will get done much faster if you just –
oh God
–”
Tossing the books on the
stair above him, Giles hurried over, grabbing Spike’s shoulders and
pulling him
away from Xander. The vampire’s eyes were glazed but still human, his
mouth
clean. Pushing him away, Giles turned to look at Xander. He looked
dazed,
almost sleepy and as Giles watched in horror he licked at his lips,
tasting the
blood that was smeared across them.
“It’s from me, Watcher,”
Spike said quietly, his hand going to his wounded neck.