Shame the Devil (cont.)
Chapter Ten
*****
The Magic Box had changed, too. The tacky little sign had been replaced by gorgeous gilded script that was repeated across the front windows. The windows and doors were draped in luxurious fabrics and adorned with a variety of dried herbs displayed in tall pots. Prisms, crystals and assorted trinkets twinkled in the rays of the rapidly setting sun that slanted into the shop.
The secondhand furniture had been replaced with an eclectic mix of new and antique pieces that were strewn around in casually diffident little clusters that invited browsing or quiet conversation. The only relic of the past was the round research table, and Xander had immediately crawled under it to find the tiny carving, an intertwined “A” and “X”, that he’d put there so long ago. He was running his fingers over it when Dawn stuck her head under the table.
“Whatcha doin’?” she asked.
He held out a hand and pulled her under the table. “Come see,” he invited.
She settled next to him and reached up to touch the letters. “I had no idea this was here,” she said. “Sweet.”
“Blast from the past,” he said in a quiet voice. She laced her fingers through his and rested her head on his shoulder.
Out of habit, Xander had awakened in the early afternoon. He went down to the hotel’s lavish pool area and soaked in the rays of the California sun for most of the afternoon, acquiring a nice tan and phone numbers from two girls and an older gentleman who admired his Speedo. Upon his return to the suite, Spike’s door had still been closed, so Xander had showered and dressed, then walked to the shop.
He’d found Dawn manning the counter, helping out on her break between the end of classes and the beginning of her internship in the fall. While she helped a customer, he prowled the aisles, finally winding up at the old table. A sudden spark of memory had caused him to look for the old carving.
“Do you still miss her?” Dawn asked.
“Not really,” he replied. “It’s been so long, and it all seems like a dream sometimes. I remember her, though. How sweet she could be, even when she was driving me batty, how she’d get so excited about the oddest little things.”
“How come you never told us you guys were engaged?” Dawn asked softly.
Xander jerked in surprise. “How’d you know that?”
“Oh, Spike told me. He said that you dropped a diamond ring into the ocean with her ashes,” she explained.
“I didn’t realize he’d noticed. I asked her that night – right before we took on Glory,” Xander said.
“So, she was happy … when,” her voice broke, recalling all that they had lost that night.
“I think so. Of course, when I asked her, she slapped me. She said I was only asking because the world was going to end and I wouldn’t have to go through with it,” Xander said.
Dawn laughed, and it was only a little tearful. “That’s so her.”
“I was supposed to ask her again, after.” This time it was Xander’s voice that broke, and Dawn wrapped her arms around him.
The bells over the door clanged, and a pair of scuffed Doc Martins walked over to the table. A chair was pulled out, and Spike folded himself onto the floor, peering under the table at the entwined friends. “Are we scraping the gum, or what?” he asked.
“Memory Lane-ing,” Xander said, discreetly wiping his eyes. Spike caught the gesture and his mouth tightened into a thin line. The vampire reached under the table, and Dawn allowed herself to be pulled out. She scrambled upright and crossed the room. Spike reached back under the table and pulled out a now dry-eyed Xander, who hopped to his feet gracefully.
“Did you send the car back to the hotel?” he asked the vampire, who came to his feet in a smooth, effortless motion.
“Nah, it’s parked ‘round back. Figured we’d go over to the birds’ house to see the Watcher soon.”
Dawn looked up from the register, where she was carefully placing cash in a zippered pouch. “If you’ll lock the door, we can go. Buffy’s meeting us there.” She slipped the pouch into her shoulder bag and breezed toward the back room. “Is the hottie from last night driving?”
Spike and Xander exchanged a look, and Spike walked to the front of the store to engage the door lock. He walked back to Xander, and they crossed the training room to the back door. Dawn was propped against the fender of the limo, chatting with Isha and the driver, Bill. The driver saw the two men exit the building and moved to open the car door. Dawn skipped back and locked the back door of the store, then slid into the limo beside Spike. Xander got in beside her and let Bill close the door.
Spike leaned forward to relay directions, while Xander opened the car’s refrigerator and offered Dawn a drink. She accepted a bottle of juice, and Xander got water for himself and Spike. The vampire took his with a smile and leaned back, closing the partition. Dawn sipped her juice and tried to look nonchalant. A smile played at the corners of her mouth, and she tried to stifle it. Finally, she gave up and let the huge grin split her face. Laughing, she gestured with her juice bottle.
“I can’t believe you guys are so blasé about this stuff! Hello? Limo, driver, bodyguard, rock star…” she gestured to each as she named them, then faltered when she got to Xander. Both men turned to look at her expectantly, not letting her off the hook for a second. “And … really, really hot big brother.” She squealed in exactly the same way she had when she was fourteen, and Xander leaned forward to hug her while Spike winced at the assault on his sensitive ears.
“Sorry, Bit,” he said, “we’re jaded.” He leaned back with a look of bored indifference that lasted all of ten seconds.
“He’s lying,” Xander added, laughing. “Sometimes we sit back here and laugh our asses off because we’re so lucky. One of these days, when you get a break, you’ll have to come out on tour with us. Though I don’t know if I want to take on the responsibility of keeping both of you out of trouble.”
They laughed and joked for the duration of the short trip to Willow and Tara’s house. Buffy’s car was already in the drive, so they sent Isha and Bill back to the hotel. The door to the cottage opened, and Tara welcomed them inside, inviting Spike by name. The cottage was larger than it looked from the outside, with well-proportioned rooms and high ceilings. It was decorated in a sumptuous, warm style that Xander thought perfectly suited the witches. Tara got them all seated in the living room and went to the kitchen to get drinks.
She returned with tea and sodas and everyone chatted comfortably. At a small noise from the hall, Xander turned. His eyes went wide when he saw Giles standing there, with Buffy and Willow on either side and a tiny, dark haired girl hovering behind him. Giles looked trim and healthy, but that wasn’t what stopped Xander. The older man had a look on his face of open, childlike joy, and Xander couldn’t help but think that it was the happiest he’d ever seen the Watcher.
Xander rose to his feet and approached Giles slowly. “Giles? It’s me, Xander,” he said, holding out a hand. The older man’s eyes lit up and he reached forward to clasp the proffered hand.
“Xander. You’re Xander,” he said, and the accent was right, but the voice had a faraway quality, like he was repeating something he’d been told.
Xander stepped forward and carefully hugged Giles. “Hey, G-Man. How’re you feeling?”
Giles patted him absently on the back, and looked over his shoulder into the living room. “Dawn is in there, and Tara. And a vampire, too.”
Xander pulled back to look into Giles’ face. “It’s Spike, you remember Spike, right?”
“Spike,” Giles repeated. “Yes, of course, Spike.” The Watcher walked slowly forward, and Buffy went with him, throwing Xander a quick, pained smile.
Xander looked at Willow, who had placed her arm around the small girl’s shoulders and was holding her close.
“Xander, this is Sia,” Willow said, inclining her head toward the girl. Xander held out a hand, and she took it. Instead of shaking it, she simply held it for a moment.
“He is a part of you,” Sia said, looking up at Willow.
Willow smiled. “Yes, honey, he is.” To Xander she said, “Part of Sia’s gift is seeing connections between beings. As soon as she met Tara and me, she could see her own connection to us. Buffy and Dawn and Giles, too. It’s kind of neat.”
Xander gently pulled his hand away. “Cool, I’m part of the club. It’s nice to meet you, Sia.” Willow turned the girl toward the living room and gave her a small push. Sia obligingly joined the others.
“He’s not getting any better,” Willow confided. “The coven has researched everything we can find on magical backlash, even performed a couple of specific rituals that should have ended it. Nothing worked. I’m at a loss, Xander. I – I don’t know what else to do.”
He pulled her close and patted her back. “We’ll figure it out, Willow. I promise. We’ll figure it out.”
*****
After dinner, Tara and Sia elected to stay with Giles while the others went back to the Magic Box to research cures. Buffy drove and Spike spent the short ride giving her hell about her ultra-cautious driving. Xander, Dawn and Willow sat in the back and giggled.
They gathered around the research table, and Willow passed out books while Xander set her laptop up and began searching. Several hours passed. Pages turned, comments and questions were exchanged, Willow traded her book to Xander for his seat at the laptop, Dawn moved to one of the overstuffed chairs and promptly fell asleep.
Willow closed the lid of the laptop and leaned down to rest her head on it. “I just can’t find anything. It’s so frustrating.” She banged her head very lightly on the computer.
Xander closed his book and reached over to rub the back of her neck. “Let’s take a break, OK?” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open, pressing a button. He waited for the call to be answered. “Isha, hey, man! Will you go up to the Starbucks on Eighth and get my usual, Spike’s usual, two mochachinos and a caramel mocha – all grande? And whatever you and Bill want, too. Cool, thanks.” He closed the phone and looked around the group, taking in Spike’s sly grin and the girls’ open-mouthed stares. “It’s good to be the king,” he mused.
Dawn woke up when Isha entered the store with the drinks, passing them around and making sure that Spike got the Kenyan roast and Xander got the café-au-lait, knowing how pissy the vampire got when he was given coffee with cream content higher than zero percent. Dawn gestured for the bodyguard to sit in the chair across from her, which he did after glancing at Xander and receiving a quick nod. The others stayed at the table and chatted.
“Hey, Wills,” Xander said, “What are your parents up to these days?”
“Archaeological dig in China. They’ve been there for four years already,” she replied, shaking her head a little. “They haven’t changed. Yours?”
Xander was proud of himself for not flinching at the question. “Dunno,” he said, “I haven’t spoken to them since I left.”
“Oops,” Willow said.
He reached out and covered her hand with his own. “It’s OK, no big.”
Willow turned to Spike, with a bright smile on her face. “How’s Dru?”
“Dead. Dusted, whatever,” he replied.
“Well, fuck,” Willow said.
Xander turned to Spike. “When? You never told me.”
The vampire toyed with his empty cup. “’bout three years ago.”
“Oh, shit, Spike. Hawaii?”
Spike nodded. As Xander stared at him in horror, he remembered the night that he had felt Drusilla’s existence wink out.
He had been onstage when it happened, in the gorgeous outdoor amphitheater located on Maui. The audience thought that Spike falling to his knees and howling was part of the show, and by the time the wild cheering had stopped, he’d managed to get himself back under control. The physical pain had been bad, but the emotional toll was immense.
Spike had roared through the final songs of the set, stormed off the stage and locked himself in the dressing room. He swiftly downed the two bottles of Jack Daniels on the bar, and then swept out. He shouldered past Xander, Annie and the bodyguards and disappeared out the door.
Two hours before dawn, Spike stumbled through the door of their suite and walked unsteadily to the door of Xander’s room. Xander met him there. Seating the vampire on the bed, he walked back to the suite’s kitchen and returned with a mug of warmed blood. Spike drank it, and then looked up.
“This is Carl’s,” he said.
“I had Julie draw some – figured you’d need it. There’s more.”
Xander refilled the mug twice, and on his last trip back to the bedroom, he brought a pair of Spike’s sweatpants. As soon as Spike had finished feeding, Xander took the mug back to the kitchen. Upon his return, he found the vampire huddled in his bed. Xander climbed in and turned off the lights.
“You wanna tell me about it?” he asked gently.
“No,” Spike’s voice was barely a whisper.
“Are you OK?” Xander said.
“No,” Spike whispered again.
Xander slid across the bed, closing the distance between them. He pulled the unresisting vampire back against him and wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him firmly. Neither said a word when Spike began to shake. When the racking sobs finally came, Xander simply tightened his arm and held on.
The false dawn woke Xander. He looked at the lightening sky for a long moment before realizing what it meant. Slipping quietly out of bed, he closed the curtains. He knew that they had been drawn as usual when he had finally drifted off to sleep holding Spike. Horrified, he stared at the sleeping vampire. Not knowing what else to do, he had gotten back under the covers and gone back to sleep. He had awakened again at midday, lying on his back. Spike was stretched out on his stomach on the other side of the bed, but the vampire’s cool hand was resting in his larger one. Xander squeezed Spike’s hand gently and got up.
“Oh, shit,” Xander repeated softly, remembering. “Jesus, Spike.” He shook his head. Spike’s eyes pleaded for him to drop it.
“So, I guess that’s it for the family talk, huh?” Xander said, looking around the group. Willow looked mortified, Buffy confused, and Dawn was focused on Isha and hadn’t even noticed the exchange at the table. He looked back at Spike, who looked uncharacteristically tired. “You ready to call it a night?” he asked.
“Yeah, I think so,” the vampire replied. Plans for the next day were briefly discussed, and they locked up the store and left.
*****
Spike was surprised by a soft knock on his bedroom door. “Come in,” he invited.
The door swung open, and Xander stood there, wearing boxers and a tank top, shifting from foot to foot in the shaft of light from the room behind him.
“What’s up, Xan?” the vampire asked, placing his book on the bedside table. He shifted up a little higher on his pillows.
Xander took a step into the room and hesitated. Spike patted the bed. “Come on, then,” he said.
Xander laughed shortly. “Sorry. This is usually the other way ‘round.” He climbed into the bed and propped himself up next to Spike. He turned, and looked into crystal blue eyes for a long moment. “I’m sorry about Dru, Spike. I know she meant a lot to you.”
Spike held Xander’s gaze, then looked away. “I loved her. I wasn’t in love with her anymore, but I still loved her. It hurt.”
“That night… the curtains,” Xander started.
“Yeah, I got up and opened them,” Spike admitted. “Thanks for catching that.” He gave Xander a rueful half smile. “Not my smartest move.”
Xander nodded. “I’m worried about Giles,” he said in a small voice.
Spike sighed, and then slid down so that his head rested on the pillows. After a moment, Xander did the same. Spike reached over and turned out the light. When he turned back, Xander had rolled over with his back to the vampire, his body curled into a miserable little ball. Spike gently threaded an arm around the human’s waist and held him loosely. “Don’t be scared, Xan,” he soothed. “We’ll figure it out.” Xander slowly relaxed against him. Eventually, they slept.
*****
Chapter
Eleven
*****
“Why did you get me a gift? It’s not my party,” Xander protested, looking at the large rectangular box sitting on his bed.
Spike ran his hand over the box and grinned at his friend. “Actually, it’s sort of a bribe.”
Xander reached out and untied the white ribbon that held the box shut. He lifted the lid. A large, black case was nestled inside. He lifted it out, and then opened the latches. When he saw what was inside, he whistled in admiration. It was a guitar. But it was no ordinary guitar. It was made of ebony, with mother-of-pearl inlays on the neck, and it glowed blackly against the red velvet lining of the case. Xander reached out and ran a finger over its neck.
“You got me an Ibanez?” he turned to face the vampire. “You got me the exact Ibanez that I’ve been drooling over? How did you know? Did Dave tell you?” he demanded.
“I saw you, um, drooling over it in a catalog. Like I said, it’s a bribe. You know your idea about me singing for Bit instead of making a speech? I need someone to accompany me,” Spike explained.
A frown and a smile warred for dominance on Xander’s face, but the smile won. “I only know six songs, Spike,” he said.
“Yeah,” the vampire replied. “You know the one Dave’s had you practicing recently?” Xander nodded. “That’s the one,” Spike said.
Xander thought for a moment, then his smile widened. “It’s perfect.”
“The song or the guitar?”
“Both.” Xander lifted the instrument reverently from its case and cradled it against his hip. He gently picked out a few notes. It sounded perfect.
“I had Dave tune it before we left,” Spike said.
Xander looked up at the vampire, still grinning like a fool. “Thank you, Spike,” he said, “I love it.”
There was a knock at the door, and Spike waved Xander away when the human started to put the guitar reluctantly to the side. He returned carrying two garment bags. He draped one across Xander’s bed and hefted the other over his shoulder.
“I guess it’s time to get dressed,” he said. Xander nodded absently and continued playing his new guitar softly as Spike walked out of the room.
*****
Twenty minutes later, Spike went looking for Xander and found him sitting on the corner of his bed, wearing his tuxedo pants and shirt, but no jacket or shoes, softly strumming the guitar. He paused in the doorway and indulged the urge to stare.
Xander’s dark head was bent over the black guitar that gleamed against the stark whiteness of his shirt. One tanned hand held the neck of the instrument gently, the curled fingers moving along the neck as the other hand lightly stroked the strings. The lower curve of the guitar’s body rested between his thighs, and one long foot tapped a rhythm on the carpet. He came to the end of the song, and his fingers stopped moving. With his head still bent, Xander rubbed the glass-smooth ebony with the pad of his thumb, and then suddenly looked up.
“You’re the coolest, you know that?” he asked Spike softly.
The vampire ducked his head and then smiled. “I’m glad you like the guitar,” he said.
“It’s really great, Spike, but I was actually referring to your outfit,” Xander replied. The vampire grinned and executed a slow turn in the doorway, allowing Xander to admire the custom tuxedo he wore. Never one to follow tradition, Spike’s black trousers were fitted rather closely, making his legs look even longer. His feet were covered in supple black boots polished to a high shine. The white shirt hugged his torso and ended in a black-banded collar in lieu of a tie. The cut of his jacket was Edwardian, with a stand-up collar and slightly belled sleeves; it fell to mid-thigh as it settled from Spike’s model-perfect spin.
The vampire reached out and took the guitar, placing it reverently into the case. Xander put on his socks and shoes, and then stood to tuck his shirt in. His own tuxedo was non-traditional in that it was a dark, midnight blue. His white shirt had tiny pleats all down the front and was closed with studs set with polished lapis stones. A slightly larger stone set in silver closed his collar. Spike handed him the matching jacket and Xander shrugged into it, holding his hands out and rocking slightly from side to side.
“You aren’t too bad yourself, mate,” Spike said, picking up the guitar case and exiting the room. Xander followed. They opened the suite door to find all four bodyguards in the hall, each wearing a traditional black tuxedo.
“Groomsmen or pallbearers?” Xander quipped, as Carl and Isha walked in front of them and Jack and Ace fell in behind, Ace deftly taking the case from the vampire’s hand.
“Secret Service; way cooler,” Spike rejoined.
Every eye in the lobby was trained on them as they swept out the doors and into the waiting cars.
*****