Prelude

COPYING TRACK 14 of 14 …

Xander’s foot tapped as he waited impatiently for the computer to finish burning his mix CD. Hurry, damn it, he thought. He loved making mix CDs. He had the perfect scenario for listening to this one – a road trip. Granted, it wasn’t a fun road trip, but a trip to LA still meant at least two hours of highway driving – the very best kind of driving when you had a brand spanking new mix CD to listen to. Xander had spent days choosing the specific songs, each one had a special meaning to him.

Two weeks prior, he had traded in his perfectly serviceable, perfectly responsible Chrysler sedan for a convertible. He was sure that his friends thought it a rash reaction to the final breakup with Anya, or a rash reaction to the impending rain of shit that was going to fall courtesy of the First, or a rash reaction of some kind. The truth was that after the breakup with Anya and in light of the impending rain of shit, Xander had decided that he didn’t really care what anyone thought. He wanted a convertible, and he was damn well going to have one. So there.

The computer continued to make those small spinning noises that meant his CD was burning. He hummed happily at the thought that in less than fifteen minutes he would be heading for the highway in his new convertible with the wind in his hair and his awesome new CD playing. He fully intended to sing along, loudly and unmelodiously, and to laugh, scream, cry or express any and all emotions brought forth by the carefully selected tracks.

The final, weak rays of the sun were slipping below the horizon. Spike would be home soon. The vampire had been living in Xander’s spare room for several weeks. After the first few nights, Xander had conceded that the closet was really too small and had cleared the spare room. Spike had arrived shell-shocked and crazy, but had gradually regained much of his personality. Getting out of the school basement, having his chip removed and finally, the deactivation of his trigger had gone a long way in restoring the vampire to his former self, despite the addition of the soul.

At first, Xander had been leery of having Spike in his home again. The last time he’d had custody of the vampire had been unsettling. Xander harbored some embarrassing memories of things that tying Spike up had made him think and feel. The truth of the matter was that he’d quit tying Spike up because of those thoughts, not because the chipped vampire was harmless. He’d worked very hard to sublimate his disturbing thoughts into yet more sex with Anya, and that had worked.

After the breakup with Anya and a few spectacularly bad dates, Xander had decided to take some time to figure out exactly what he was looking for. He’d made exactly zero progress on figuring that out when Spike had walked back into his home. Of course, the Spike who had followed Buffy into the apartment wrapped in a blanket had been a shadow of his former self. He’d been painfully thin, dirty and unkempt. His bleached locks were grown out into two-toned curls, and his brilliant blue eyes shone with obvious insanity.

Xander had objected to having an enforced roommate at the time, but after a few days had realized that Buffy’s pronouncements that Spike had to get out of the school were correct. Truthfully, Spike was quiet, unassuming and little trouble during those first days. Then Xander had discovered why – the vampire was barely feeding and sleeping little, if at all. He’d come home early from work one day to find Spike three-quarters of the way through a pot of double-strength black coffee, staring at a mug of blood that had long since congealed on the kitchen table. The worst part was that Spike had not noticed him at all until he’d pressed the handle of the reheated mug of blood into his hand. At Xander’s touch, Spike had started violently and knocked the mug away, then stared at the spreading stain with a terrifying mixture of hunger and revulsion.

Xander had forced the lethargic vampire to talk, and the halting conversation that followed had revealed that Spike’s soul was interfering with his ability to feed, and that he was forcing himself not to sleep because of horrible nightmares. In the end they had come to an agreement; Xander had promised to watch over him while he slept that afternoon, if Spike would consent to trying to eat just a little. The vampire had managed to drink a small amount of blood, and then had settled into his bed.

Xander felt a twist in his heart each time the blue eyes had opened to check if he was still there – each time he’d smiled and nodded. After the tenth time, the vampire had finally slept. Xander took the opportunity to really look at Spike. He was lying on his back, one hand on the pillow above his head, the other by his side. His black t-shirt rode up a little, exposing his hollow belly and the extreme jut of his hipbones. Spike had started to twitch and make small, scared noises in his sleep. Without thinking, Xander had moved to the side of the bed and reached out and run his hand down the other man’s arm in a soothing gesture. The vampire had immediately stilled. Xander had returned to his chair.

It went on like that for several hours – Spike would stir, Xander would comfort him and return to his seat. Late in the afternoon, Xander was jerked awake by Spike’s voice, keening "no, no, no, no" over and over again in a low monotone. Cursing himself for falling asleep, he’d rushed to the bed, sitting next to the vampire and brushing the hair from his face as his head tossed on the pillow. Spike had reached out blindly, and Xander had unexpectedly found himself clutching the smaller man to his chest and rubbing his back as if he were a frightened child. Spike had relaxed into the embrace and curled himself around Xander, nestling his head down onto the larger man’s shoulder.

Once Spike had calmed, Xander had attempted to lay him back down, but the vampire would not release his grip. Finally, Xander had lain down beside him, both men on their sides. Spike had pressed his face into Xander’s chest and returned to sleep, and Xander lay there, his mind whirling and his hands rubbing soothing circles on the back of his not-quite-mortal-enemy.

An hour later, Spike began to stir, and Xander extricated himself from the cool arms and returned to his chair, where he leaned back and feigned sleep, hoping that the vampire’s senses were still muddled enough not to notice his racing heartbeat. At the pressure of a hand on his shoulder, he’d opened his eyes to find Spike smiling at him. It was a small smile, but it had just a little of the old Spike in it, so Xander had smiled back. Then, Spike had quietly said, "thank you." Xander nodded, and then left the room. He’d heated a half-mug of blood, and handed it to Spike as he entered the kitchen. With a small grimace and a shrug, the vampire had slowly drunk it, then rinsed the mug and placed it in the sink.

On two more occasions, Spike had asked Xander to watch over him while he slept, and Xander had complied. On one occasion he’d wound up with the shivering vampire on his lap in the chair, clawing at some imaginary enemy until Xander was able to soothe him back to sleep. On the other, he’d only had to touch Spike twice; both times he’d subsided quickly. He had not asked again. In the interim, Spike had gotten much of his old spark back – he’d re-bleached his hair, and finally, after his confrontation with Wood he’d returned pretty much to normal.

Spike treated everyone much the same as before, except for Xander. Xander noticed that the vampire had been – well, for lack of a better word – nicer. No insults; the wisecracks had still been there, but without the usual undercurrent of meanness, and they’d even spent some quiet, normal weekday evenings at home, finding shared interest in Quentin Tarantino movies, the Game Show Network and almost anything on the History Channel. They had spent the better part of one evening debating the relative merits of Wheat Thins versus Triscuits and the travesty that was squeeze cheese in a can, when Xander realized that he liked Spike. The thought had derailed his impassioned defense of the Triscuit and caused Spike to crow that he’d won the argument.

Examining his thoughts later, Xander had come to the mind-bending conclusion that not only did he like Spike as a person (or sort-of-person), he was also harboring an incipient crush on the vampire. Well, if that wasn’t a showstopper, he didn’t know what was. He thought about his recent quest to find out what it was that he really wanted. A crush on a male undead person was not exactly the sort of thing he’d expected to find rattling around in his brain, but there it was. He realized that he was about a thousand times more comfortable with Spike than with anyone else he knew and that the vampire was the only one with whom he was truly himself anymore. He also realized that being with Spike made him happy and that happiness was an emotion that he’d been in short supply of for far too long.

WRITING LEAD-OUT …

The quiet "bing" from the computer brought Xander out of his thoughts. A frisson of joy ran down his spine. The CD was ready. For the last week, he’d avoided everybody. He’d put all of his excess energies into crafting this mix. He’d skipped a couple of Scooby meetings, he’d foregone stopping by Buffy’s after work to see what else needed fixing, and he’d ducked phone calls from Willow and Anya. He’d even avoided Spike when he could. Xander knew that this CD, this mix, said everything about him. It was like a time capsule – a specific era caught and sealed away – a frozen moment out of time. It was also a catharsis, a way for him to pour out his feelings and sift through them to try and achieve some clarity. He couldn’t wait to get on the road.

When Giles had asked him to take several texts to Angel in LA, at first he’d been tempted to decline. But then he’d thought of the mix, half-finished at the time. What better than a road trip to try it out? Open road, new convertible, and the mix – a match made in heaven. He’d quickly accepted the books and promised to leave Friday after work. It was now Friday after work, the CD was finished, and he was ready to go. He slipped the CD into a jewel case, grabbed his keys and jacket and flung the apartment door open, startling Spike, who was standing on the other side of the door with his keys out, scowling.

"Hello, Spike. Goodbye, Spike," Xander said, stepping aside to allow the vampire to enter. "I’m off to LA; I’ll be back late – very late." With a long-suffering look, Spike replied, "Hold up there, mate; I’m with you." Xander’s mouth dropped open, and the vampire continued speaking. "I know – you don’t want me with you and I don’t want to go, but Angel’s on one of his fatherly trips and has demanded that I go there. You’re going, so I’m going with you." His tone softened. "Look, Xan, I know it’s an imposition, but I’d appreciate it if you’d have me along, OK?"

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He called me "Xan". That’s a first. He rarely calls me by name, and never "Xan". It sounded good when he said it, even though he sounded pissed about going to LA. He was trying to be polite. That’s so weird. Must be the soul. Whenever he does nice things or is polite, Willow refers to him as "Souly McSoul". Not to his face though. He’d probably have a fit if he knew she does it.

OK, so he’s upstairs getting his jacket, and I’m in the parking lot putting the top down. The weather is pretty good for early spring, warm enough for having the top down, but cool enough to feel good. I threw my jacket in the backseat, so it’s there if I need it. There’s no way in Hell I’m putting the top up, so if Spike doesn’t like the wind he can ride in the trunk.

Maybe that would be better. If I play this CD, is he going to figure out that half the songs are about him? If he figures it out, am I going to have to crash us into an overpass to escape my extreme embarrassment? Does he have to look so damn hot in that duster? Shit, here he comes. He told me the story about the duster, and at first I thought it was kinda gross that he’s wearing it again, seeing that it belonged to Wood’s mother and all. He explained it to me though, and I have to say that his logic makes sense, in a twisted, souled-vampire kind of way. He sees the coat as a symbol of his past as a bloodsucking, Slayer-killing vampire maniac. He feels that wearing it forces him to remember what he was and accept it. He doesn’t want to be Angel – he’s not seeking redemption or doing some sort of penance. He was what he was – all of those killings were done by the demon. The demon is still a part of him, but so is the soul. I think that when he realized that the soul isn’t responsible for all of the atrocities committed by the demon, he was able to feed again. And whatever happened with Wood seems to have made a big difference in him, too.

He’s slumped down in the seat, staring out the windshield. He looks like he wants a cigarette, but he knows I won’t let him smoke in my car. "Go ahead," I say, "smoke if you want to – it can’t hurt anything with the top down." He looks at me, surprised. "Thanks. Maybe later," he says, and then he just looks at me for a minute. His eyes are beautiful. It’s hard to look away from them – they just pull you in. Thankfully, he looks away. I pull out of the parking lot and into the gas station across the road. He gets out and starts pumping the gas. I ask him if he wants anything, and he says "whatever". Inside, I gather some road food and some sodas, then pay for them and the gas. By the time I get back, he’s back in his seat, still slumped down. I get in and off we go. After a couple of minutes, I glance at him and laugh. "You’re brooding," I tell him. He scowls at me. I laugh out loud. "You’re brooding like Angel when he can’t get that $14 hair gel he loves." He laughs and sits up straight, which is much better than brooding. He grins and says, "Sorry." I think "Souly McSoul", but I don’t say it.

We’re getting close to the highway. When we stop at a red light, I turn towards him. "Look, Spike," I say, "I know this is weird, but I have to ask you a favor." He glances at me and asks, "What?" I take in a deep breath and just blurt it out. "OK, I have this thing about road trips and music. I made a mix CD especially for this trip, and I want to listen to it on the highway. I need for you to not say anything, and especially not to make fun of any of the songs, because they’re all important to me, one way or another. I had planned on doing this alone – it’s sort of the way I work stuff out." I had to stop to take a breath, which I immediately let out when he just smiled at me and said, "OK, Xander." The lights changed, and I handed him the jewel case. He opened it and slipped the CD into the player. OK, here we go.

In The Mix: Track One

Like I didn’t know he was a music nut. The kid’s got over 300 CDs. I counted them all one day when I was still trying to not sleep ever again. Then I alphabetized them by artist, then by title. Then I mixed them all up again so he wouldn’t notice. Then I did the whole thing over again. Yes, it was a crazy thing to do, but I was crazy after all. So, he made a CD, he wants to listen to it, he doesn’t want me to make fun of it. I wouldn’t anyway. OK, last year I would have, but not now. Things have changed.

Hey – I know this song – something by Staind – his taste is improving. This is nice - good guitars and drums. I’m so glad that teenybopper pop shit is going out of fashion. One more underdressed waif and I was seriously going to have to consider going back to murder as a hobby.

"How do I feel? I've been here before
I've felt this
Retreat to a place a place within me I need this
Keep it all down bottled inside it breaks me
to torment again and
Torture me like it used to"

"Break the Cycle", that’s the name of the song. He said that the songs all mean something to him. I’m no armchair analyst, but even I get it. Hell, I may be the only one who does – I don’t know if any of the Scoobies ever figured out how many of his bruises came from home and not from demon fighting. My guess is that they didn’t – pretty self-absorbed lot they are. Shit, even when I didn’t have a soul I hated that crap – now I hate it worse. I hate it that he still thinks he deserves to be treated badly. It’s funny – of all of them, he’s the one who has been treated the worst, and he’s still the one with the most compassion.

Look at the way he treated me. Buffy decided to fob me off on him when I was barking mad, and he took me in. Hell, he even cared enough to find out why I wasn’t feeding. He didn’t even crack a smile or a joke when I asked him to watch me sleep. He touched me, calmed me, when none of them would even so much as look at me. He thinks I don’t know that he held me. But I know, and I remember, and those are the memories that let me sleep on the bad nights. Can’t tell him, though. Wish I could.

"So now the waves they have subsided
And my soul is bleeding
I can't take away all the shame I feel
Forgive me"

Would you listen to that? I think they wrote that part about me. Except for the forgiveness part. Fuck that.

"Break The Cycle" – Staind


In The Mix: Track Two

OK, one song down. He looks like he’s thinking pretty hard. Probably dreading seeing Angel. Can’t blame him there, I’m not exactly looking forward to it either. Oh, the next song’s starting. Oh, God – I forgot I put this on the CD. I love the intro to this song – just simple piano music, then John Hiatt’s rough-smooth, hauntingly beautiful voice. Well, mine’s not as nice as his is, but I’ve got to sing along. This one’s for Jesse, and it would be a crime not to sing it for him.

"Friend of mine
Has gone away
Like a light from yesterday
Lost in space
Somewhere they say
This friend of mine"

I was singing quietly, and Spike just leaned over and said, "Go ahead, Xan, sing out – the top’s down and no one can hear you." I didn’t look over, but I did start singing louder. Has he been lying all these years? Is mind reading really a vampire skill and he didn’t want us to know? Is he trying to make me fall in love with him? I’m going to stop thinking and sing this song.

OK, I’m still thinking. I miss Jesse. He’s been gone so long. I used to hate vampires because of what happened to Jesse, but I’ve grown up a lot since then. Now I think I’m just lucky to have not lost all of my best friends to vampires – we do live in Sunnydale. I’ll always miss him, though.

"Take him home
To the light
This friend of mine"

I think Jesse’s soul is in heaven. I think it went there when the vampire killed him. I know that the demon that I killed wasn’t him. It may have had some of his personality, but it wasn’t him. Well, that brings up an interesting thought. I was attracted to Spike when he stayed with me the first time, pre-soul. I had the hots for a demon. That’s a bit of a shocker. He’s different now, though. I wonder what all of that means. I hope it means that he won’t give me shit if he saw me wiping tears out of my eyes just then.

"Friend of Mine" – John Hiatt

In The Mix: Track Three

John Hiatt? Who’d have thought Xander knew about John Hiatt? Huh – I guess appreciation for good music didn’t die before his generation like I thought. That was a good song. I don’t know who he was thinking about, but he sure cared about them. Maybe I’ll get him to tell me the story some day. Hell, it could happen. I never thought he and I would sit on the couch in sweats and eat Girl Scout Cookies and watch "Reservoir Dogs" and laugh til we cried, but that happened. So there’s still hope.

Oh, man – I like this one. It’s Garbage – that Shirley Manson has a great voice. Very evocative. I like this trancy kind of music; it gets into your bones and your blood, makes you feel heavy and sensual. That sort of thing is big with the vampire crowd. This song tears my fucking heart out. It’s everything I felt for Buffy, and I can barely stand to hear it. Me and her, we’re over. We talked about it, I even made a little joke about the dangers of picket fences, but we both knew what it was. We couldn’t be together, not after the things we did to each other. I don’t love her any more.

"See your face every place that I walk in
Hear your voice every time I am talking
You will believe in me
And I will never be ignored"

Funny, that. She did say that she believed in me. It didn’t really help. Too little, too late, I guess.

I will burn for you
Feel pain for you
I will twist the knife and bleed my aching heart
I'll tear it apart

I will lie for you
Beg and steal for you
I will crawl on hands and knees until you see
You're just like me"

God, this song says it well – that’s just how I felt about her. The sad part is that she’s not like me. She’s much more like Angel – tied to an idea, a job title. She’s no more alive than he is. Oh, great – now I’m feeling sorry for Angel. Kill me now. Wait a minute – this is Xander’s mix. Duh. He felt this way about Buffy, too. No wonder he hated my fucking guts. I always knew he was a White Hat, a good guy; but I think I’m starting to realize that he’s a hell of a man. Better than I ever was. I think I need that cigarette now.

"Number One Crush" – Garbage


In The Mix: Track Four

He finally lit up. I guess I never thought about how much "Number One Crush" would resonate for him. Not like he was supposed to ever hear this CD anyway. He looks so cool when he smokes. The wind is winning – it’s starting to break through his armor of hair gel, and little curls are escaping. It’s cute. Makes me want to smooth it back with my hand. I haven’t touched him in forever, but I still remember what he feels like. He’s cool and hard and angular. His hair is soft. It should be like straw from all of the bleach, but without the gel it’s like silk. His skin is, too. I have got to get my thoughts under control; I’m getting hard. Not good. Oh, yeah – music; music is playing.

Piano music, and Michelle Branch’s baby-doll voice. I love her. I know, I know – but her voice is so sweet and her songs are simple and straightforward. Not much is like that for me these days, so I have to take it where I can get it. This is my song for Willow. We aren’t very close now, and I hate it so much. She’s working so hard every day to be ready for the First, and it’s taking everything she’s got to steel herself for the time when she has to tap into her power again. OK, maybe not everything she’s got, because she’d still got time for Kennedy. Kennedy gets on my nerves. She’s bossy and kind of mean and she picks on Spike.

Jesus, I’ve got it bad. Now I’m pissed at Willow’s potential-Slayer girlfriend because she’s mean to my vampire. My vampire – that thought is not doing much to dissipate my hard on. I’ll concentrate on the song.

"Just when you thought you were losing
But you know I’ll always be right there
And I’ll be there through the good times and the bad
And we’ll be there for each other
You’re the best friend I ever had"

It’s true. She’s the best friend I’ve ever had, or ever will, no matter what. Things will straighten out between us. I know she probably still feels all weird about me having to talk her out of destroying the world and all, who wouldn’t? I’ve got to make more of an effort with Willow. She needs to know how I feel about her. That’s one thing I’m gonna do for sure – I’m gonna make sure I tell Willow and Buffy and Giles how I feel about them. I may feel like a giant sap doing it, but they deserve to know.

So, Willow – love her. I’m even gonna try to be nicer to Kennedy, as long as she’s nice to Spike. I can’t believe I just thought that. Yes, I can. In this renewed commitment to telling the truth, I guess I have to tell it to myself. I like Spike. I am attracted to a male vampire. I am also probably certifiably insane. Does this mean I’m gay? Do I like guys in general, or just undead ones? OK, let me think. Guys … guys …. Manny from work – does he turn me on? He’s young, nice-looking … but, no – doesn’t do it for me. Angel … nope. Giles … no way. OK, looks like it’s a Spike-centric kind of thing. Typical – I can’t even change orientation in a predictable fashion.

"I’ll Always Be Right There" – Michelle Branch


In The Mix: Track Five

Why is he banging his head on the steering wheel? That was a perfectly nice song. This one is, too - Joy Division – I’d recognize it anywhere. "Love Will Tear Us Apart". This one’s for Anya. He really couldn’t have picked a more appropriate song.

"When routine bites hard and ambitions are low
and resentment rides high but emotions won't grow
And we're changing our ways, taking different roads
Then love, love will tear us apart again

You cry out in your sleep, all my failings exposed
And there's a taste in my mouth as desperation takes hold
Just that something so good just can't function no more
But love, love will tear us apart again"

I’m glad they didn’t get married, and I’m glad that I fucked her. Not because I was a mess and needed to get laid, either. I’m glad they didn’t get married, because it would have ended badly. I’m glad I fucked her because it was the one thing that guaranteed that they wouldn’t get back together. Is that cruel? I don’t know. But they’d have been miserable in a year or so. Anya wanted to be a human, with all the trappings. She wanted a husband and a family and a house with a white picket fence. But the truth of it is she’d have hated it all in no time, and Xander would have paid the price.

Judging from this song, I’d say he’s pretty much figured out that it wasn’t meant to be with Anya. That makes me feel good. I don’t like to think of him pining for her.

"Love Will Tear Us Apart" – Joy Division

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