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Title: Learn to be Lonely part 4/?
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chocgood84
Rating: R for now
Pairing: BtVS Spike/Xander
Author’s Note: Because I’m lame and can’t find a way to fit my stories into canon at all, this piece is sometime after Spike is chipped and while he’s enjoying his stay at the lovely Chateau D’Harris. Also, a huge spanking thanks tokitty_poker1 for volunteering to be my official L2BL beta.
Disclaimer: These character’s aren’t mine, never were; I don’t get any profit for this hobby, so don’t sue – Thanks.
Warning: None for now, other than it’s a little slow on the ship front for now. But we are eventually headed for equal parts angst and schmoop, because really, can I even write anything else?
...“That’s the spirit,” Xander joked, putting his jacket on and heading for the front door. “Hey, maybe we’ll get lucky and run into a demon on the way there. I am a magnet, after all.”
“Already the night’s lookin' up, then,” Spike snarked as they made their way into the night...
“…suffocation, no breathing. Don’t give a -bleep- if I cut my arm, bleeding…” was blaring from the speakers as they crossed through the doors into the Bronze. A little louder than it needed to be, a little softer than it was meant to be, and Xander had to smile a little. The music here always changed, but it was never different - something he was used to, lately.
“Grab a table, I’ll get the brewskies?” he asked, nodding towards the farthest pool table.
“No way, Harris; you’ll come back with some of that nancy boy so-called ‘beer’. Give me the money, and I’ll get it while you rack up.” Spike held out his hand, not unlike a teenager wanting his allowance.
“Whatever,” Xander said as he slapped a bill into Spike’s hand. “Just don’t get any of that nasty stuff you always drink. Can’t stand that crap.”
“Why not? It’ll put hair on your chest,” he replied with a smirk. “Which we both know you don’t have.”
“Huh?” Xander barked, turning red. But that was just a dream! Wasn’t it?
“Relax, Harris. We’re sharing a space roughly the size of a double wide coffin. Bound to notice a few things, right?”
“Yeah, sure. Uh, here’s another twenty. Get whatever, and bring the bottle,” he said, slipping another bill into the cold white hand and sprinting to the back table. He hoped the momentary panic had gone unnoticed.
By the time Spike returned, carrying two glasses of ice in each hand, a bottle of Stoli under one arm and a case of Red Bull under the other, Xander had already racked up the balls and picked out his cue.
“No Jack?” he asked as Spike plucked a stick out of the rack on the wall.
“Seems like more a Russian night, somehow,” Spike said, propping his stick against the table and pouring two glasses mostly full with the vodka and adding about a finger’s width of the energy drink.
“Sounds good to me,” replied Xander, taking his drink from Spike and swallowing half of it in one go. He only choked once. “Then again, I’d be happy with battery acid right about now.”
“Could be arranged.” Spike lined up his cue, and with a fierce thwack sent the balls scattering across the felt, two stripes sinking into a corner pocket.
“Oh, I’m sure it could,” Xander admitted as Spike lined up his next shot. Deciding it would be a while before he got his chance to shoot, Xander took a seat on a nearby bar stool and slammed back the rest of his drink.
“So where’s your bird?” Spike asked, dropping two more balls into the pocket. “Not that I care.”
“Who knows? Probably at demons.com right now, trying to find out when the next big Magic Box purchase is going to happen.” Bitterness, much?
“Ah ah ah, now,” Spike scolded, pausing to take a drink. “Sounds like there’s trouble in what you think is paradise.”
“Trouble?” Xander scoffed sarcastically. He got up and made himself another drink. “It’s just that she’s…I don’t know, busy? Everyone is right now, except me.”
“So that’s what it is, then?” Spike asked as he took another shot and missed, cursing under his non-breath.
“What are you talking about?” Xander scouted out the table and shot, sinking first one and then two balls.
“Why you’re so bloody pissy, lately.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Fangless.” Another shot, another ball. Ah, such sweet denial.
“Makes sense, really,” Spike admitted.
“What makes sense?” Xander took the refilled drink Spike offered him and sipped it for a while before taking another shot and missing.
“Well, s’like this, mate. Slutty the Vampire Slayer’s off doing unspeakable things with Captain America.” Spike cringed. “Red’s off doing Glinda. And now, now your own demon chica has deserted you for a floppy disk and cable modem.”
“What’s your point, Spike?” Xander growled.
“Just that it looks like you’re finally feeling as alone as you actually have been since Buffy showed up in good old Sunnyhell.” With a nod, Spike slammed his stick into the cue ball, dropping the rest of his balls off the table.
“You’re way off your mark, Spike,” Xander grumbled, tossing back the rest of his drink and filling it again.
“Am I, Harris? Really?” With a smirk, he sent the eight ball spiraling into the pocket.
****
Three hours later, and Xander was 0 for 8 and too drunk to care. He’d quit actually trying to win once they’d finished off the vodka and switched to the cheaper ‘nancy boy so-called beer’.
Something here was way weird. Like the fact that he was actually talking to Spike. Or the fact that it felt good to do it. Even Spike’s quips and pokes at Xander’s not-so-personal life didn’t seem to bother him anymore. They were just jokes, just something to amuse the vampire. And truth be told, but never publicly, Xander was actually finding them funny. He was actually having more fun tonight than he had in a long time. He was partly worried, partly disgusted with himself, but mostly apathetic. Who the hell cared, anyway? Wasn’t like Buffy or Willow could really care enough to, well, care.
“Guys?” a guy that looked quite a bit like every other bartender Xander had ever seen called from the bar. “We’re closing up, so you two need to hit the road. Want me to call a cab?”
“Nah, we’ll walk. It’s not like anything is far from anything else in this crap little town,” Xander replied. Only it came out more like, “Nope. We like to walk. We walk pretty. Like trees.”
“Alright, Harris, let’s go back to what you laughingly call home.” Spike threw his cigarette on the floor and ground it out with his boot. Pushing Xander towards the door, he threw a few bucks onto the bar.
****
Sometime in the night, a sharp piercing scream sliced through Xander’s head. He begrudgingly picked up the phone, muttering something about how even vampires know better than to call this late.
“Xander?” Anya screamed from the other side of the line. “Xander, it’s me.”
“Anya?” Xander struggled to speak; apparently sometime while he was sleeping he had swallowed a package of cotton balls that smelled like dead frogs. Also, something had seemingly smashed his brain with a sledgehammer because it suddenly hurt just to breathe.
“Xander, we need to talk.” Her voice sounded weak, but was screeching across his brain like fingernails on a chalkboard.
“Alright, cool. We’ll talk tomorrow.” If my unconscious body doesn’t put me out of my misery while I sleep.
“No, Xander. Now,” she insisted.
“Anya, please. I feel like-“
“I’m pregnant, Xander.” And suddenly, her voice was soft as flour and fragile as glass.
“You’re what!?” he shouted into the phone, wincing as pain seared through his eyes.
“That’s not why I called.”
“Then why did you call?” he asked.
“The baby…it’s not yours,” she whispered.
After a few minutes of intense breathing, he snarled into the phone, ”Then whose is it?”
“Uh, well…Giles’, actually.”
****
Xander awoke screaming, and then clutched his head and screamed at the pain his screams were causing.
“Oh my God!” he squealed as his vision cleared, revealing the basement once more. It was still dark outside, but there was a faint purple glow seeping in around the shades. Daybreak wasn’t far off, now.
In his chair, Spike snorted in his sleep, swatted at a dream-fly and rolled onto his side.
“This has got to stop,” Xander muttered, falling back on the mattress, sucking in air as his vision went blurry again and his stomach lurched.
Author:
chocgood84Rating: R for now
Pairing: BtVS Spike/Xander
Author’s Note: Because I’m lame and can’t find a way to fit my stories into canon at all, this piece is sometime after Spike is chipped and while he’s enjoying his stay at the lovely Chateau D’Harris. Also, a huge spanking thanks to
kitty_poker1 for volunteering to be my official L2BL beta.Disclaimer: These character’s aren’t mine, never were; I don’t get any profit for this hobby, so don’t sue – Thanks.
Warning: None for now, other than it’s a little slow on the ship front for now. But we are eventually headed for equal parts angst and schmoop, because really, can I even write anything else?
...“That’s the spirit,” Xander joked, putting his jacket on and heading for the front door. “Hey, maybe we’ll get lucky and run into a demon on the way there. I am a magnet, after all.”
“Already the night’s lookin' up, then,” Spike snarked as they made their way into the night...
“…suffocation, no breathing. Don’t give a -bleep- if I cut my arm, bleeding…” was blaring from the speakers as they crossed through the doors into the Bronze. A little louder than it needed to be, a little softer than it was meant to be, and Xander had to smile a little. The music here always changed, but it was never different - something he was used to, lately.
“Grab a table, I’ll get the brewskies?” he asked, nodding towards the farthest pool table.
“No way, Harris; you’ll come back with some of that nancy boy so-called ‘beer’. Give me the money, and I’ll get it while you rack up.” Spike held out his hand, not unlike a teenager wanting his allowance.
“Whatever,” Xander said as he slapped a bill into Spike’s hand. “Just don’t get any of that nasty stuff you always drink. Can’t stand that crap.”
“Why not? It’ll put hair on your chest,” he replied with a smirk. “Which we both know you don’t have.”
“Huh?” Xander barked, turning red. But that was just a dream! Wasn’t it?
“Relax, Harris. We’re sharing a space roughly the size of a double wide coffin. Bound to notice a few things, right?”
“Yeah, sure. Uh, here’s another twenty. Get whatever, and bring the bottle,” he said, slipping another bill into the cold white hand and sprinting to the back table. He hoped the momentary panic had gone unnoticed.
By the time Spike returned, carrying two glasses of ice in each hand, a bottle of Stoli under one arm and a case of Red Bull under the other, Xander had already racked up the balls and picked out his cue.
“No Jack?” he asked as Spike plucked a stick out of the rack on the wall.
“Seems like more a Russian night, somehow,” Spike said, propping his stick against the table and pouring two glasses mostly full with the vodka and adding about a finger’s width of the energy drink.
“Sounds good to me,” replied Xander, taking his drink from Spike and swallowing half of it in one go. He only choked once. “Then again, I’d be happy with battery acid right about now.”
“Could be arranged.” Spike lined up his cue, and with a fierce thwack sent the balls scattering across the felt, two stripes sinking into a corner pocket.
“Oh, I’m sure it could,” Xander admitted as Spike lined up his next shot. Deciding it would be a while before he got his chance to shoot, Xander took a seat on a nearby bar stool and slammed back the rest of his drink.
“So where’s your bird?” Spike asked, dropping two more balls into the pocket. “Not that I care.”
“Who knows? Probably at demons.com right now, trying to find out when the next big Magic Box purchase is going to happen.” Bitterness, much?
“Ah ah ah, now,” Spike scolded, pausing to take a drink. “Sounds like there’s trouble in what you think is paradise.”
“Trouble?” Xander scoffed sarcastically. He got up and made himself another drink. “It’s just that she’s…I don’t know, busy? Everyone is right now, except me.”
“So that’s what it is, then?” Spike asked as he took another shot and missed, cursing under his non-breath.
“What are you talking about?” Xander scouted out the table and shot, sinking first one and then two balls.
“Why you’re so bloody pissy, lately.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Fangless.” Another shot, another ball. Ah, such sweet denial.
“Makes sense, really,” Spike admitted.
“What makes sense?” Xander took the refilled drink Spike offered him and sipped it for a while before taking another shot and missing.
“Well, s’like this, mate. Slutty the Vampire Slayer’s off doing unspeakable things with Captain America.” Spike cringed. “Red’s off doing Glinda. And now, now your own demon chica has deserted you for a floppy disk and cable modem.”
“What’s your point, Spike?” Xander growled.
“Just that it looks like you’re finally feeling as alone as you actually have been since Buffy showed up in good old Sunnyhell.” With a nod, Spike slammed his stick into the cue ball, dropping the rest of his balls off the table.
“You’re way off your mark, Spike,” Xander grumbled, tossing back the rest of his drink and filling it again.
“Am I, Harris? Really?” With a smirk, he sent the eight ball spiraling into the pocket.
****
Three hours later, and Xander was 0 for 8 and too drunk to care. He’d quit actually trying to win once they’d finished off the vodka and switched to the cheaper ‘nancy boy so-called beer’.
Something here was way weird. Like the fact that he was actually talking to Spike. Or the fact that it felt good to do it. Even Spike’s quips and pokes at Xander’s not-so-personal life didn’t seem to bother him anymore. They were just jokes, just something to amuse the vampire. And truth be told, but never publicly, Xander was actually finding them funny. He was actually having more fun tonight than he had in a long time. He was partly worried, partly disgusted with himself, but mostly apathetic. Who the hell cared, anyway? Wasn’t like Buffy or Willow could really care enough to, well, care.
“Guys?” a guy that looked quite a bit like every other bartender Xander had ever seen called from the bar. “We’re closing up, so you two need to hit the road. Want me to call a cab?”
“Nah, we’ll walk. It’s not like anything is far from anything else in this crap little town,” Xander replied. Only it came out more like, “Nope. We like to walk. We walk pretty. Like trees.”
“Alright, Harris, let’s go back to what you laughingly call home.” Spike threw his cigarette on the floor and ground it out with his boot. Pushing Xander towards the door, he threw a few bucks onto the bar.
****
Sometime in the night, a sharp piercing scream sliced through Xander’s head. He begrudgingly picked up the phone, muttering something about how even vampires know better than to call this late.
“Xander?” Anya screamed from the other side of the line. “Xander, it’s me.”
“Anya?” Xander struggled to speak; apparently sometime while he was sleeping he had swallowed a package of cotton balls that smelled like dead frogs. Also, something had seemingly smashed his brain with a sledgehammer because it suddenly hurt just to breathe.
“Xander, we need to talk.” Her voice sounded weak, but was screeching across his brain like fingernails on a chalkboard.
“Alright, cool. We’ll talk tomorrow.” If my unconscious body doesn’t put me out of my misery while I sleep.
“No, Xander. Now,” she insisted.
“Anya, please. I feel like-“
“I’m pregnant, Xander.” And suddenly, her voice was soft as flour and fragile as glass.
“You’re what!?” he shouted into the phone, wincing as pain seared through his eyes.
“That’s not why I called.”
“Then why did you call?” he asked.
“The baby…it’s not yours,” she whispered.
After a few minutes of intense breathing, he snarled into the phone, ”Then whose is it?”
“Uh, well…Giles’, actually.”
****
Xander awoke screaming, and then clutched his head and screamed at the pain his screams were causing.
“Oh my God!” he squealed as his vision cleared, revealing the basement once more. It was still dark outside, but there was a faint purple glow seeping in around the shades. Daybreak wasn’t far off, now.
In his chair, Spike snorted in his sleep, swatted at a dream-fly and rolled onto his side.
“This has got to stop,” Xander muttered, falling back on the mattress, sucking in air as his vision went blurry again and his stomach lurched.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
From:
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Looking forward to more sweetie!
~Nebula
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Thanks, babe. I'm glad you like it!
From:
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From:
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Thanks, hon:)
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Hugs Sue xx
From:
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btw - Icon? *thud* I love it!
From:
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next three parts are also great, I'm guessing this will be a long-ish story? It's good, just building the plotline, the interaction between the different characters (very in-character by the way), and well, Xander's insecurity with Anya through the dreams...
Looking forward to more...
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From:
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The hangover description is perfect, Heee.