Shame the Devil (cont.)

Chapter Eight

*****

Xander kicked off his loafers and stretched his arms out along the back of the seat. He let his head rest against the butter-soft leather and relaxed. God, this was the life. He wondered briefly just when he’d become so accustomed to an existence that included perks like never having to drive yourself, maids who picked up the wet towels, restaurants for most meals, Annie to take care of the details and little to worry about other than Spike. He mentally reviewed that list. Yep, Spike had somehow become his responsibility. How the hell had that happened?

Sure, the bodyguards took care of some things and Annie others, but somewhere along the way Xander had assumed the title of Spike-wrangler. And, somewhere along the way, Spike had submitted to being wrangled. He was still a massive pain in the ass at times, but for the most part he played the game. Early on, Spike’s hedonism had threatened the small empire they’d built from the early bar appearances. Too many groupies, too many drugs, too many trashed hotel rooms and too many threatened lawsuits had caused Xander to lay down the law. Spike had chafed at the restrictions at first, but the human’s careful, heartfelt pleas for Spike to *please stop fucking up their fun, happy and above all *profitable life had finally penetrated.

It was during that time that Xander had started booking himself and Spike into two-bedroom suites. It started as a convenience; it was easier for Xander to keep tabs on the vampire that way. After a while, they both realized that they enjoyed the company. On rare occasions, Spike would knock on Xander’s door, invite himself into the bed and sleep there, close but not touching. Xander never turned him away, but he never went to Spike’s room either. He also didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about it.

Even with the close supervision of Xander and the bodyguards, Spike still managed to get into a fair amount of trouble. He was ruthless in using his fame, his looks and his innate sensuality to get what he wanted, and Xander’s firing of CJ had merely been the last in a long line of similar dismissals. It was well known that supplying Spike with drugs or the few other things Xander found unacceptable was an express ticket to unemployment. Spike never held the firings against Xander, and Xander never held their necessity against Spike. Each fully understood the others’ nature, and acted accordingly.

The door of the limo opened, and Spike slipped inside. He looked at Xander and raised an eyebrow. Xander smiled in return. Both men were wearing what they considered the “travel uniform”, black jeans and black tee shirts. Spike kicked off his unlaced Doc Martens and curled his feet under him, tucking himself back into the corner of the seat.

Xander turned and looked out the back window to see the bodyguards getting into two large black SUV’s. “We look like a presidential motorcade,” he observed.

“Nah,” Spike sneered, “we make way more money than that poof.”

One SUV pulled out ahead of them, and the other dropped into line behind them. The black vehicles slipped out from under the hotel’s portico and into the night. It all ran like a well-oiled machine, and all they had to do was show up. Xander couldn’t help but smile.

“You feeling better about going to Sunnydale?” Spike asked.

“I guess I am,” Xander replied. “I was just sitting here thinking about how different things are now. We have a lot to be proud of.”

“That we do,” Spike agreed.

“Did you eat?” Xander asked.

Spike grimaced. “I’ll wait ‘til we get there.”

“Why didn’t you go ahead?” Xander asked.

Spike hesitated. “Didn’t know where you were,” he finally said.

“You don’t need me to feed,” Xander protested.

Spike turned an appraising eye on his friend. “I’m trying not to scare the guys, right? They’re still freaked out about that scene with Ace. If you’re in the room they feel better.”

“How do you know they feel better if I’m there?” Xander asked.

“I can taste it in their blood – anxiety, fear, calmness, whatever,” the vampire replied.

“Oh,” Xander said, mildly surprised. “You should have called me, then. I could have come back up to the suite.”

“I can wait,” Spike said, and pulled a book out of the bag on the floor.

Xander stared at the reading vampire for a moment, then leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Just when he was able to think of Spike as being a self-absorbed prick, he’d come out with some comment that showed compassion or kindness and screw up Xander’s carefully constructed assumption. It was maddening.

*****

Xander woke to a soft knock on the window by his head. It took him a moment to remember where he was. Oh, yeah – limo, Sunnydale, vampire in his lap. Huh? Vampire in his lap. Yep, there certainly was. Well, not in his lap per se, but there was Spike’s blond head, pillowed on his thigh, the vampire’s body curled on the seat, dead asleep. Xander snorted at his own mental funny – dead asleep, Hee. He opened the window a crack. It was Ace.

“You want me to go check us in?” the big man asked. Xander nodded and put the window back up. He reached down and gently shook Spike’s shoulder. Clear blue eyes blinked open and then slammed back shut instantly.

“Wake up, Spike – we’re here.” Xander kept his voice low; a just-awakened Spike could be volatile. Or snuggly. Which is what seemed to have come up in the rotation this time. 

Cool hands wrapped themselves around Xander’s thigh and Spike’s face pressed against his leg. “Comfy. Don’t wanna get up,” was the muzzy reply.

Xander loosened the hands and pulled the vampire upright. Spike fell heavily against his shoulder, and Xander automatically wrapped an arm around his back to steady him. The tousled blond head came to rest on his chest, and Spike made a happy, sleepy noise. Xander couldn’t help himself. He bent his head and let the tip of his nose almost touch the nape of Spike’s neck. Silently, he inhaled traces fabric softener, shampoo and the unique scent of the vampire himself.

Ace knocked on the window. Xander straightened abruptly and pushed Spike off of his chest before opening the window. Ace slipped him two keycards and withdrew. Xander turned to find a fully awake Spike pulling his boots on. Slipping his feet into his loafers, he opened the door. Ace held it as the two men exited the car, and then followed them into the lobby. The Delta was Sunnydale’s newest and most luxurious hotel. Xander took in the Art Deco style and quiet elegance. He glanced over at Spike, who nodded.

Ace led them to the elevator. Xander stopped before boarding the car.

“Send Jack up as soon as you guys are settled, OK?” he said to Ace. 

The guard nodded. “You need anything?” he asked politely.

“I’ll just raid the mini-bar,” he said. “Keep the limo out front – we’ll be going to see our friends. Who’s on tonight with you?”

“Isha,” Ace replied. 

“We’ll only need one of you, and you’ll be able to come back with the car and then pick us up when we’re ready to leave.” He held up a hand to forestall Ace’s protest. “Don’t argue – I’ll explain on the way. Our bags upstairs?” Ace nodded, and Xander stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for the penthouse.

When they reached their floor, they walked to one of the two sets of double doors off the elevator lobby, and Xander swiped one of the key cards. The doors opened to reveal a luxurious living room decorated in navy blue and gold. To one side stood a fully stocked bar that held a fruit basket and a vase of fresh flowers. The windows were all discreetly covered with heavy blackout drapes, and Xander noticed that the entertainment center had one of each of the most popular game consoles, as well as selections of music and movies.

“God, I love Annie,” Spike said, taking in all of the special details he knew were her doing.

“Should we give her another raise?” Xander asked.

“Shit, no,” Spike said. “If she makes any more money, she’ll be able to retire and we’ll be fucked.”

“Point,” Xander conceded. He turned and walked into the bedroom on the right side of the suite. Spike went to the room on the left. As expected, their bags had already been unpacked; their clothes were hanging in the closets, their toiletries placed carefully in the bathrooms. It’s good to be the king, Xander thought.

He stripped off his traveling clothes and found a pair of faded blue jeans and a soft, cream-colored tee shirt. He traded his loafers for leather sandals and ran a brush through his hair. He glanced in the mirror and decided to shave quickly. He returned to the main room to find Spike seated at the grand piano in the corner, quietly picking out a melody.

Spike had also changed clothes, and now wore a lightweight grey sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows over his black jeans and Docs. Xander started rummaging in the refrigerator behind the bar, coming up with imported chocolates, cheese and crackers and two beers. He diverted his path to the door when he heard a knock. He opened it to admit Jack. A tall man with dark hair in a braid that fell to his waist, Jack was the smallest of the bodyguards, weighing in at a mere 250 pounds, but Xander considered him to be the best of them all. Jack’s mastery of four different martial arts, including Krav Maga, the official martial art of the Israeli Army, made him the most devastating fighter of their group, except for Spike.

Xander always thought that Jack looked like he was in uniform, even in jeans and a tee shirt. Jack’s upright but relaxed bearing and his intense stare intimidated many people. He was fast, tough and hard to get to know, but he and Xander had become friendly over time. Jack was generous with his knowledge, always willing to train with Xander, Spike or the other guards when asked, but he never instigated contact. He walked into the room and nodded to Spike, who rose from the piano bench and walked to the center of the room.

Jack didn’t flinch when Spike morphed into game face; he simply held out his arm and looked impassively over the vampire’s head. With a glance toward Xander, who was contentedly licking chocolate off his fingers, Spike began to feed carefully. Jack’s blood tasted clean and rich. Spike was always surprised by how little of this particular human’s emotions he could taste. He didn’t know if Jack had some sort of trick for suppressing his feelings, but very little came through. Spike fed quickly, and then pulled away with a nod. Jack returned the nod, smiled briefly at Xander and left.

“He’s not much for the pillow talk, huh?” Xander said, after the door had clicked shut. He held a beer out to Spike, who accepted it and drank a third of it in one long gulp.

“Nope. I don’t think he likes me very much,” Spike said, turning his beer up again and taking a chocolate from Xander’s plate.

“He’s good at his job,” Xander observed, “but if he makes you uncomfortable…”

“Nah. It’s fine,” Spike said. They both drained their beers, and Xander finished his snack. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Xander said. He opened his cell phone. A moment later, Ace and Isha knocked on the door.

“Ace, I said we only need one of you,” Xander protested. 

“Isha’s going to drive – the driver was tired, so I sent him to bed,” Ace explained.

“OK,” Xander conceded, and they went down to the front of the hotel. The guards arranged themselves on either side of Xander and Spike and ushered them to the limo. Once seated, Xander called Willow to tell her they were on their way. As he closed the phone, he looked over at Spike, who was looking at him.

“You ready for this, pet?” the vampire asked.

Xander took in a deep breath and released it slowly. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

*****
Chapter Nine

*****
As soon as they stepped out of the car they were mobbed. Spike found himself with one arm full of Dawn and one of Buffy. The witches similarly flanked Xander. He hugged back as hard as he could. Tara skillfully slipped out of the embrace and allowed Willow to attempt to squeeze the life out of her best friend. Xander could hear Willow’s hitching sobs in his ear and tried his best to control his emotions. Finally, he was able to break her death grip on his neck and hold her out at arm’s length.

“Hi, beautiful,” he said in a low voice. He smiled and laughed when she immediately blushed. Xander was amazed. He’d always thought Willow to be a lovely girl, but the years had worked their magic on her, turning her cuteness into a warm, open beauty that took his breath away. Her hair was long, falling down her back in a russet spill, and her green eyes sparkled. Her skin was luminous in the moonlight. In simple jeans and halter top, she didn’t look a day over twenty.

“You’re looking pretty gorgeous yourself,” she growled back, playfully, taking in his longish hair and casually expensive look. Both of their smiles softened, and he pulled her close again.

“I’m a shitty friend, Wills. Can you forgive me?” he whispered into her ear.

“Done and done,” she whispered back. She squeezed him once more, and then released him to Dawn, who had been standing by, waiting with impatient grace.

Xander looked Dawn over, noting her battered leather pants and faded tee shirt that read “Uppity Women Unite” before enfolding the tall girl into his arms and lifting her off her feet in a quick spin that made her squeal. He put her back on her feet. “Dr. Summers, I presume?” he asked.

“Still Dawnie to you, Xander,” she said. She disengaged from his hold and stepped back, turning him to face Buffy. Xander felt his eyes start to fill with tears as he looked at her. She was still as petite and blonde as ever, a few extra pounds rounded her figure and smoothed out her angles. She saw the tears and swept him into an embrace, pulling his head down to her shoulder.

“None of that,” she soothed. “This is a happy homecoming, sweetie. It’s OK.”

Xander clutched at her shoulders and fought for control. He looked up from her shoulder and locked eyes with Spike for a moment. The vampire was standing to the side with Tara, looking straight at Xander. As their gazes locked, Spike tilted his head slightly, and Xander could see the compassion in the startlingly blue eyes. He took a deep breath and pulled away from Buffy.

“I’m so sorry, Buffy,” he said in a low, taut voice. 

She reached up and wiped a stray tear off of his cheek, then rose up on her tiptoes to kiss the spot where it had been. “We’re good, Xan. Forgiven. Forgiven a long time ago, OK?” He nodded and stepped back. The group started moving toward the house.

“Who was the hottie driving?” Dawn asked.

*****

Inside, Xander was surprised to see that Buffy and Dawn’s house had been completely redone. The suburban, middle class décor had been replaced with things more to Buffy’s taste; the house was an oasis of rich, natural tones and soft curves. It was stylish, soothing and welcoming.

Dawn and Buffy hurried off to the kitchen to get drinks, while Tara and Willow ushered the men into the living room. Willow joined Spike on the sofa, while Xander and Tara stood near the fireplace. Xander ran his finger along the frames of a row of photographs there, pausing at one of himself, Buffy and Willow taken during their first year of high school. Pulling his gaze away from the pictures, he turned to Tara.

“You look good, witchy woman,” he joked, taking in her nicely rounded figure. She was dressed in cargo pants and a wrap top, her feet bare, her flaxen hair in a long braid. Her face was lightly made up, and she glowed with health and happiness. 

“I’m happy,” she confided softly. “You and Spike are here, and that makes Willow happy…”

“And a happy Willow makes a happy Tara,” Xander concluded for her. They laughed together, and he squeezed her shoulder. They walked over to the couch and joined Willow and Spike. Xander sat between them and Tara seated herself at her lover’s feet and leaned back against her. Dawn and Buffy reentered the room, each laden with a tray of drinks and snacks, which they deposited on the table in front of their friends. Dawn plopped down on the floor at Spike’s feet, and Buffy seated herself in the wing chair at his elbow, tucking the full skirt of her sundress under her legs.

Xander reached over and grabbed a handful of chips from one of the bowls. “Mmmmmm, salty goodness,” he exclaimed. “Good stuff. The way to a man's heart *is* through his stomach, after all.”

Spike appropriated a beer and replied, “No it's not. The way to a man's heart is through the fourth and fifth ribs.”

Dawn nodded sagely. “He’s right, you know. You can trust me, I’m a doctor.” She shoved a handful of cheese curls into her mouth and washed them down with her own beer. Xander and Buffy looked at each other over Dawn’s head and both rolled their eyes before erupting into giggles.

“OK, is it just me, or does the concept of Dawnie performing surgery on people wig you out too?” he asked.

“Uber-wig,” she replied.

Dawn peered up at them. “Don’t sweat it guys – I won’t actually get to do surgery on live people for several more years.”

“So relieved,” Xander said, wryly. He turned to Willow suddenly. “Wills – where’s Giles?”

She reached over and clasped his hand. “He’s at our house. Sia is with him. She’s, well, she’s one of the apprentice witches in our coven and Tara and I are her kind of, sort of, unofficial foster parents.” Willow and Tara exchanged a soft look.

“She was one of my cases,” Buffy said, referring to her job as a social worker. “She started showing magical abilities at puberty and her parents freaked. She wound up at CPS, and I worked it so she could be with Willow and Tara. She’s really good with Giles.”

“How is the Watcher?” Spike asked.

Willow sighed. “He’s still kind of out of it most of the time. We’ve got people researching, but we haven’t figured out how to reverse the backlash yet. It’s frustrating. He understands that you guys are here… we think. You can come see him tomorrow.”

Spike felt a tug at the leg of his jeans and looked down into Dawn’s wide smile. “I have a friend in Indianapolis – she saw your last show. She said you were awesome!”

He smiled down at her. “It was a good show.”

“She said you were just wild for the first couple of hours,” Dawn continued.

Xander broke into their conversation. “He was coked off his ass.”

All of the women turned shocked eyes on Spike, and he glared daggers at Xander.

“Spike!” Dawn exclaimed. “You don’t have some sort of rock star drug problem, do you?”

“Vampire, Bit,” he said in an exasperated tone. “Can’t get addicted.” He gave Xander a look that spoke volumes. 

Xander smothered a laugh. “It’s true – he can party like Robert Downey, Jr. and not even get a mild hangover. It’s kind of annoying, actually.” He sat back and listened as Buffy and Dawn harangued Spike about the dangers of drugs, hiding a grin behind his hand.

Finally, Spike had had enough. “Shut up!” he roared, shocking the girls into silence. They stared at him, and he looked down, immediately contrite. In a much calmer tone, he said, “Listen – I have been alive for well over a hundred years; I come from a time when people used heroin to treat the common cold. I am well aware of my limitations, which, as a vampire, are quite limited. If I occasionally want to get high, it is my God-given right as a rock star to fucking get high. Besides, Xander keeps an eye on me so I don’t get out of hand. At least, he did until now – because I’m going to kill him for feeding me to you bloody pack of wolves tonight!”

Xander couldn’t help it – Spike looked so outraged that he just had to burst into laughter. Willow and Tara immediately followed him, whooping loudly. Dawn started giggling, which set Buffy off; soon they were leaning on one another weakly. Xander glanced over at Spike to see a small grin playing about the vampire’s lips. Spike tried to suppress it, but lost the battle, finally joining in the hysteria. They all laughed until they cried. As soon as the majority of the group would regain their composure, someone else would either lose it again or say, “just say no” and set them off one more time.

When they finally wore themselves out, Willow had slid off the sofa into a boneless heap with Tara, Dawn had come to rest with her head in her sister’s lap, and Xander was leaning heavily on Spike, who had his arm wrapped around the human’s neck in a mock-headlock. Spike released Xander and collapsed into the space Willow had vacated. He squirmed around until he was reclining against the sofa’s arm. He bent his legs, and Xander turned so he was propped against the vampire with one arm wrapped around the upraised knees, his head pillowed on his forearm. Willow, Tara and Dawn all sat up against the front of the sofa, and Dawn reached up and pulled Buffy down to them. She settled herself between Xander’s spread feet and held her sister’s hand. Spike let his arm trail down to rest lightly on Willow’s shoulder. 

The old friends stayed in this gentle tangle, chatting and laughing quietly for the next hour. They decided that they would all meet the next day at sundown at the Magic Box. The girls were all starting to drift off, so Xander called Ace to come pick them up. He and Spike half-walked, half-carried Willow and Tara to the limo and dumped them in. They each kissed and hugged Buffy and Dawn then took their leave.

“Willow, you have to tell Ace where your house is,” Xander cajoled, as the redhead snuggled deeper into her lover’s arms.

“Nice car, comfy car,” she groaned, trying desperately to fall back asleep.

Xander shook her a little. “Willow. House. Focus. Where is it?”

She cracked one eye open long enough to give Ace the simple direction. As soon as they arrived at the small cottage that was surrounded by lavish plantings, Spike and Xander eased the witches out of the car and walked them to the door. Sleepy hugs and kisses were exchanged, and the women stumbled off to bed. Spike and Xander slipped back into the car.

Turning to peer through the lowered partition, Ace grinned at them. “Those two are the reason you didn’t need a bodyguard tonight?” he asked. 

Spike looked back at him with a very serious expression. “I know you can’t feel it, mate, but power pours off those two. Makes my teeth itch, if you wanna know the truth.” He shuddered a little as he sat back.

Ace looked at Xander who nodded in agreement, then turned back to drive them to the hotel.

*****

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