Friend In Need

By Anatari

Xander leaned back against the couch. He knew what was going on by now… and people thought he didn't see anything. No, he was the cheerful, too-eager one. The one who just bounced and rambled and cheered everyone up when they needed it. Not the one who actually understood what was going on, no, no, never that. 'Couldn't be me, no sir, I'm just the puppy.'

Spike had always been obvious about it. Whether he knew it or not, Spike was obvious about everything he did. Maybe it was him who was too-eager. Always rushing off, not having enough patience to get his plans completely formed. Transparent, but only if you knew what to look for. That was why he'd never actually succeeded in killing any of them. He could have if he'd sat down and finished a plan, though. Spike was smart, cunning, stealthy. That much was obvious. And to most of the people in the room, Spike was a book closed tight and locked, with no title on the binding.

But not to Xander.

And not just because he'd lived with the vampire, either. Because you could say the same of Giles, and God knows Angel never knew what the fuck was going on in that bleach-soaked head. No, it was something else, something Xander didn't want to admit to himself or anyone else.

He'd been studying his prey. Although he wasn't sure of his purpose anymore, because it had changed somewhere along the way. At first he'd been driven by loathing, disgust… watching the way the vampire moved and fought and thought and posed so that someday he could drive a stake through that damned duster, right into the unbeating heart.

But now, after three years of watching and waiting and even sometimes outright staring, he wasn't so sure anymore. Things change, people change… and for all the arguments, demons *do* change. Or at least Spike did.

Not that Xander thought the vampire had any genuine goodness in him. No, there was nothing of merit in that cold form. But his motives had changed, and really, that was all that mattered. It all came down to wants. If you want something bad enough, you'll go against what you are to get it. Xander had a feeling if they took out the chip, Spike would go right back to killing. But not any of them. No, he'd try and cover it up, so that no one would know. Because he didn't want to have to leave.

He was evil and disgusting. Maybe if it came down to it, Spike would ease up on the whole mayhem and murder thing. But by no means would be stop. He'd never stop. Not even for Buffy.

//A friend in need's a friend indeed,
A friend with weed is better.

A friend with breasts and all the rest,//

Xander still couldn't believe she'd come back. They'd done it. They'd made a huge mistake in doing it, but still, it was done. He could be happy she was back, but it was all rather selfish. Buffy wasn't happy. In fact, sometimes she'd seemed downright miserable.

Until she started disappearing now and then, seemingly unreachable. Out all night without telling anyone where she was. Long patrols, cutting hours at the Doublemeat Palace, skipping out on Scooby meetings.

She needed someone to talk to, someone who wouldn't get all 'parental' and try and give her therapy. Someone who'd be genuinely understanding and would just try and help her to deal. Xander had to admit to himself, even he wasn't the one to do that. It was over his head. Which was why he hadn't tried. Buffy wouldn't tell the people close to her how she felt. She'd made that clear the summer she'd run away to LA. No, Buffy needed someone who wouldn't judge or worry.

//A friend who’s dressed in leather.//

He knew exactly where she was going. He'd been watching Spike, remember?

The vampire had been great that past summer. Real straight arrow, if not bitchy as all hell. He'd had someone to take care of, someone to look out for. Someone who needed him. Dawn was like a sane, innocent Dru. And anyone with eyes could see how much Spike cared about her. It was on his face when he looked at her. His little sister, his charge. Someone to focus on.

It was the same look he got in his eyes when he looked at Buffy, except the big brother vibe? Gone.

//A friend in need's a friend indeed
A friend who’ll tease is better.//

Vampires preferred to pick off the wounded. The dredges of society. The weak, the hurt, those who couldn't fend for themselves. Those in emotional distress. And who knew that lesson better that Spike?

Xander had read the journals. Quite informative. A pathetic little poet goes into a back alley, to cry his shame away. Along comes the dark enchantress, offering to take it for free… and give him back more than he'd imagined. An enchantress that had been tortured and weakened before dying at the hands of a master. Worn down and nearly psychotic before deemed worthy for turning. By a master who'd been on the bottom rungs in his own time, a drunkard, a lout. A little rich boy who'd thrown it away to the prostitutes… and then one had eaten him herself.

Maybe that was the reason Xander was so worried about Buffy. Aurelius wasn't known for it's caring and love… He wasn't happy with Buffy and Angel, and Spike was only a minor improvement. At least he didn't use that crappy 'I have a soul and I'm all tortured' shit. And he wouldn't just run off… but was sick obsession any better? Xander remembered when Dru had broke it off with him after a century. No doubt, the vampire was volatile and dangerous.

He could understand the attraction, though. He'd said it before. Spike wasn't totally repulsive. Not aesthetically, anyway. What were his exact words again? Compact but well-muscled…

What the hell was he doing?

Xander shook his head and just watched, something he'd gotten quite used to by now. Giles was behind the counter. Willow and Tara were reading some big dusty book. Spike was leaning against the counter, looking bored. But he was actually staring at Buffy, who was sanding off the splinters from homemade stakes.

Simple. He knew from experience. Things were simpler when you knew what you wanted. Even if you had to go aimlessly from moment to moment, one desire to another… at least you had an idea. Something to aim for, work towards.

Spike had that. And he'd given Buffy that.

Xander shifted uncomfortably. He was feeling strange tonight. Antsy.

//Our thoughts compress, which makes us blessed.//

He knew what it was like. Back when he was with Anya, the only time that his head wasn't spinning around… the only time that he wasn't worrying about the job he had to keep or find, how to keep his dad from beating on him, or how to stay in touch with his friends in their other world…

It was when they were having sex. And there had to be something twisted in that, somewhere. Some psychological defect that made him think the rest of the world was okay, when really it was falling to pieces around him. But when you were in the moment…

He could tell that's what was happening. Every now and then Buffy would look up and catch Spike watching her. And there would be a little glint in her eye, that anticipation. He could see the stress ease from her shoulders, the lines smooth from her face a little. Because she knew that in a little while, for a little while, she would feel better about things.

Neither of them seemed to notice that Xander was staring. That he'd seen them, figured it out. And even if they did, he knew, they wouldn't acknowledge it. Because it was doubtlessly more fun this way. Having a secret. At least for Spike it was. Spike, who *had* to know Xander was watching. Had to feel it. Or maybe it had just become familiar after three years.

Not like the vampire cared. Xander wasn't going to tell Buffy he knew, so Spike had something over her. Something he could dangle over her head if she threatened to stake him or break of their little arrangement.

Maybe Buffy was having fun with it, too. But that would wear off. The others would find out, and Xander wouldn't have to maintain his own cover anymore. He could speak out against Spike with a reason, without having to spill the secret of his nightly vigils. The real reason he'd lost one job after another. He was too tired to do things right, because he spent most of the night staring at the blond. Couldn't tear himself away, even if Anya threatened to dump him if he got up and left in the middle of the night one more time. She hadn't been bluffing.

And he wouldn't have to admit anything to himself, because Spike would be dust.

//And makes for stormy weather.//

He wasn't sure how Buffy would feel about that, but he didn't really care. This wasn't healthy.

"Xander?" Giles' voice, all cultured and deep. Xander's head snapped up towards the counter.

"Yeah, G-man?"

"Are you doing anything productive?"

Xander shrugged. "Not much with the research."

"Usually you make an effort."

"I have a headache."

Giles gave him an odd look. "I'm low on blank casting runes. Could you go bring up another crate from the basement?"

"Sure." Xander gave Spike one last glare, then heaved himself up from the couch. The basement of the Magic Box was the same as it always was… kinda dank, kinda moldy. It smelled almost like his hiding spot behind Spike's crypt, except it lacked the earthiness of the cemetery. Xander liked the basement. He found the runes easily, and loaded a crate full of the little green cartons.

When he came back up to the main floor, Spike and Buffy were gone.

Xander set the crate down on the counter and glanced around. "Where's the bleached wonder? Decide to crawl back underground?"

Giles adjusted his glasses. "No, I sent him and Buffy on patrol. I was rather surprised at the lack of arguing over it, actually. It's not normal that they listen…" The ex-watcher shrugged, then began stocking the rune cartons. "Very odd. Almost like they're getting along."

//A friend in need's a friend indeed//

"They were probably just bored and wanted to fight something." Xander leaned on the counter. "Like me."

"You want to go fight something?"

"No, I'm bored."

Giles shot him that 'really, now, must you be so rude' look. "I take it you don't want to help with inventory, either?"

Xander blinked.

"Very well, you're free to go." Giles waved towards the door. "We don't really have anything to research, anyway."

"Thanks. See ya tomorrow!" Xander called out as he left, in an effort to make up for his snippiness. He'd been short with Giles tonight… for some reason he was just on edge. Usually he'd at least pick up a book and pretend like he was researching. But right now…

What exactly *was* he planning to do? Watch? He shuddered a little. "Sick, Xander." That would just be wrong. So instead of heading for the cemetery, he went for the Bronze. He could have a drink, work off a little bit of this restless energy… And when he closed his eyes he could see them together, pale skin and shining hair, almost too-thin angles and a darkness in them both. The pull of death.

His mental image put Spike on top, the muscles in his shoulders and upper arms rippling as he moved. Trailing down a smooth back, to the gentle swell--

NO! Xander's steps faltered and he tripped, nearly falling to the pavement. No, he was *not* just picturing Spike naked. And hard and fucking, and was that really even Buffy under him anymore in his little daydream? Xander shook his head hard to clear it and kept walking. He was only a few blocks away at this point.

And why was he still walking?

He was only encouraging himself.

Did he really care?

No. There was seriously something wrong with him. It would be weirder for him to mess with a three year routine, though. Just because his stalk-ee had started getting some…

What the *fuck* was he thinking? He was doing this because of Buffy. He was looking out for her.

…Right?

Tonight was a just a cover band, Xander knew from the flyers around. 'Non-Descript Origin.' Rather a clever name, actually. He'd heard them before, mainly playing medium level rock. Like the Dingoes but with a little more variety. As he approached the building, one hard chord rang out into the night air, followed by the singers' tandem chants.

'Start your engines… start your engines…' The beat was driving, upbeat. Xander had never heard the song. 'Can we get the chemicals in? 'Cuz anything's better than this…'

There was a clattering noise somewhere off to the right. Gripping the stake tucked into his waistband, Xander veered off his path and into the alley. Sweat coated his palms as the fear set in. What? They could play at it all they wanted, but everyone was scared in Sunnydale at night. Especially when you knew the sort of things that were out there.

//And when she’s pressed she will undress
And then she’s boxing clever//

Lights from the Bronze filtered through the windows, illuminating the varied dumpsters and discarded boxes. There was a second clatter farther down, accompanied by a grunt. At first Xander thought he was too late, that the vamp was already feeding. But as he got closer he realized the sounds were too rhythmic. This wasn't an attack.

Xander crouched behind a dumpster to watch. Not because he was a perv or anything. But because he knew who it was at the first flash of blond hair. The two of them were in a patch of shadows, and Xander had to squint to make out the details.

They were quiet. For some reason, Xander had always thought that they'd both be screamers, but then again, they were outside. Spike had Buffy pinned to the wall, moving roughly back and forth. And they were kissing. Xander had never envisioned kissing as part of it. It just seemed a little too… personal to associate with Spike. With a vampire.

'Little cuts on your wrist, to try and get back the feeling. And no real friendships exist, and that would be an understatement!' The guitars had cut off there for a second in his mind, but the rough voice of the singer snapped Xander back to reality.

Try and get back the feeling. Wasn't that all she was doing? Xander sighed and leaned back against the dumpster. It wasn't healthy. Less dangerous, perhaps, but not healthy.

He heard a gasp, and poked his head back around the edge of the dumpster. Buffy's head was tilted back, hands fisted in Spike's hair and legs wrapped impossibly tight around his waist. The vampire was in full gameface, and Xander realized that Buffy was pulling him away from her neck.

//A friend in need's a friend indeed
A friend who bleeds is better//

They were finished rather fast, in Xander's opinion. Slayer stamina and all that. But even Giles had commented on how wound up they both had seemed tonight. So maybe it wasn't all that surprising.

Spike set Buffy down slowly, then reached into his pocket for something Xander couldn't see. He handed it to Buffy, who smiled and kissed him again before righting her clothes and pulling away.

They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment.

The song kept going, 'I keep bad company… I'm in trouble… so go on, stay away from me…'

The moment broke with Buffy's jittery laugh.

"Buffy…" Spike's face had smoothed back to normal, and he was zipping his jeans back up as he spoke. "How much longer?"

"I don't know." She answered, then walked away from him towards the street… and Xander.

Xander pulled back behind the dumpster quickly, scratching his arm on a piece of loose metal. Buffy walked by him in a cloud of vanilla and sex and darkness and Spike. It was strangely enticing, actually.

…In a sick and twisted way.

But then it didn't matter because someone was staring at him. For a moment Xander thought that Buffy had circled back and caught him, but then his mind cleared and he looked up to see Spike standing there. The vampire's nostrils were flared and his eyes were glittering in the half-light, bleach-blond curls loosened from Buffy's hands.

"Xander." He acknowledged, not sounding surprised. "Cut yourself?"

'The stitches won't even begin to even stop up the bleeding… can we get the chemicals in? 'Cuz anything is better than this.'

Xander laughed nervously at the timing of the lyrics, then realized he sounded almost exactly like Buffy. Too much. The laugh died in his throat. "Yeah." He stood, looking down at his arm. A drop of blood fell to the ground.

"'S a waste." Spike commented idly. He sounded bored. Normal. Like Xander hadn't just caught him and Buffy fucking in an alley. But then again, what did Spike care if Xander knew?

"Yeah." Xander repeated, feeling like a broken record. The sheer stupidity of the situation came crashing down on him. Here he was, standing like an idiot, when Spike knew. Spike had always known. What, like he was stealthy or something? It gave him the chills to even think about it.

"See you around." Spike gave him an odd little smile, then turned and walked away. No big exit, no snide remarks. Just a simple flutter of leather and soft footsteps that faded away.

//Day’s dawning, skins crawling//

'You don't know where we've been!' The singer's wail echoed through the alley, high pitched and highly ironic. Because Xander did know where Spike had been. And it repulsed him. The knowledge itself was like being coated in oil. No matter how much you scrubbed at yourself, it would always be there, just a little. Taunting him. But only because Xander kept harping, following… watching.

He was disgusting.

'Lining 'em up again…' the music rang once more than cut off as the band finished the song, then launched right into something else, something much harder and louder. This time Xander knew it. 'Black Mass' by Danzig. And wasn't that a little dark for the Bronze?

Who cared? Xander wandered out of the alley quietly, thinking. Spike had seen him, now what? He couldn't keep up his watches now. Even though the vampire had known all this time--Xander had seen it in his eyes--now it had been stated. Following Spike around now was just… pathetic.

Xander looked down at his arm, and in the half-light outside the club the drying looked like black ink dripping down his arm.

'Hell will come… he will come.' The singer was back to that crooning wail again, but Xander didn't bother sticking around to hear it. Hell was coming alright, and probably for him.

//My friend confessed she passed the test,

And we will never sever…//

Suddenly angry, Xander looked up, scanning the area for Spike. Why was he acting like this? It wasn't him who was wrong. The vampire wasn't anywhere in sight. Xander was torn anyway. He should probably talk to Buffy first, see how she was doing. Bad enough, he supposed, that she turned to Spike.

'I press the dagger to the center of my heart… Of my heart.'

There was a hand on his shoulder, gripping a little. Xander turned and found himself eye-to-forehead with Spike, those little tufts of hair directly in front of him.

"Looking for me?" The vampire was smiling. "I thought you'd run to the watcher first off. Get me staked."

"Come off it, Spike." Xander glared, pissed off by the amusement in those blue eyes.

"Alright. Have it your way." Spike grabbed him by the collar of his button down shirt and dragged him into the Bronze.

"Spike, let go." He tugged back uselessly. There was no way he was breaking the vampire's grip, so it just came down to rip his shirt of be pulled along. For some reason unknown to the world, he chose to be pulled along.

"You want me to stop playing, Xander? Well I want the same from you." Spike banged a door open and started dragging Xander up some stairs. "Might as well have someone who wants me for a change."

'I draw you close within the circle of my arms… Of my arms.'

"What the hell are you talking about?" There was a challenge in Spike's face. "I've only been…" He stopped. Why was he doing this again? Oh, right. "Buffy." He grasped to put his thoughts together.

Spike sneered, something dark and sinister. "Right. For Buffy. We all do everything for Buffy." He dragged Xander out onto a recessed balcony. "I'm not stupid."

And the next thing Xander knew, he had his back to the wall, with Spike pressed full length against him.

"I know what you're thinking. And you're wrong about it. She's the one who's been using me. So you don't have to worry about a thing. Funny part? I actually do care about her." Spike ground his hips against Xander's, leering suggestively. "And you?"

'From me come all things black and bright…'

"What about me?" Xander managed to keep his voice steady.

"Don't play, Xander." Spike mocked, pushing against him again. "Quid pro quo and all that rot."

"That's not exactly what it means…" He stopped and thought a moment. Something for something. "But alright." He reached out and grabbed Spike by those little tufty blond curls, pulling their mouths together roughly.

//A friend who bleeds is better…//

Xander rocked into Spike, pouring out three years of frustration and misplaced hatred into this moment. And he understood perfectly. Maybe it was like those old movies, when vampires had paralyzing saliva and hypnotic eyes. But there was something about kissing Spike, being so close to him…

He understood what Buffy had been doing. It was the darkness. That was what drew him to the cemetery all those nights, led him to fight when he was so clearly a spaz. He liked being close to darkness.

Spike pulled back, a smart remark undoubtedly on the tip of his tongue. Xander cut him off with a short, "Don't." They both knew all the lines anyway. And when Spike went for his neck instead of his mouth again, Xander didn't object.

//A friend who bleeds is better.//

He was doing this for Buffy. He was protecting his friend. Helping. She couldn't cope, couldn't talk to him, had to turn to this. But he could do something about that. Make sure she stayed safe. The fangs pierced his skin and Xander bucked against Spike, even as the vampire held him steady.

He wasn't sure if it was good or bad, but he wasn't going to stop it. It was the kind of pain he could get easily addicted to, sweet around the edges. Like when you rubbed a sore muscle or picked at a scab. It was wrong in every way and yet perfect, somehow exactly what he'd needed. He was no longer angry or sad of confused or excited… he was just Xander, doing something wrong. It was clear.

His body was moving on its own, without need for his mind. Somewhere he registered getting off against Spike, his hands coming up to clutch the smaller form to his.

And now he knew what he wanted. He had a desire, something to aim for. Things could be simple now. Maybe he could actually get some sleep.

Spike slid his fangs out and licked the twin wounds and the trail of tiny punctures between them. Xander shuddered, pulling the still-gamefaced vampire down for one more kiss, just like Buffy had done. The band was winding down, and the final strains of the song echoed up to where they stood.

'Hell will come…' It was enough to make Xander burst out in hysterical laughter. Because he was sick and twisted and somehow everything was right now appropriate in its own way. Spike gave him a quizzical look, and it was just *weird* with fangs and brow ridges.

Yeah, everything was right now.

 

~Fin~