lusciousxander: (grabby hands by Moscow_Watcher)
[personal profile] lusciousxander
Fic: Teenage Dirtbag
Author: [livejournal.com profile] lusciousxander
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: PG 13
Setting: Starts during Lover’s Walk, S3. Spike's POV throughout.
Summary: Halfrek gives Spike the curse that will change his entire life.
Note: This fic is written for the Reviving Spander Ficathon.

Super thanks to [livejournal.com profile] devo79 for being my awesome beta.


Previous Chapters






Part 21





Made by Tickyboxes








I knock my head against the ceiling again. This bloody treehouse is ridiculously small. “Are you sure no one’s gonna look here?” I watch Xander drape a tablecloth on the giant book we’re hiding and place a glass vase with an artificial flower on top. We’ve decided to keep the book with the information on summoning vengeance demons within reach in case we found a way for the real William and I to exist together in the same reality.

“This treehouse has been abandoned since the McNallys fled Sunnydale two years ago.” He pushes the concealed book to the corner next to a tiny plastic chair. “Besides, if Giles finds out this book is missing, the first place he will search is your room.”

My nose twitches at the smell of mildew stale air and I feel a sneeze flare up. I pinch my nose against the sensation and glance at the neat suburban house through the stained glass window. “Two years, eh? House haunted?”

He shrugs. “It’s Sunnydale. Who the hell wants to live here?”

“You?”

“I was born here. It’s different.”

“Buffy?”

“She’s the Slayer. It’s a destiny thing.” Xander wipes the dust off the tiny chair and then sits on it. He looks around the place with nostalgic fondness. “Man, we used to have a lot of fun up here.”

Nothing fit the small space but three little chairs, a few old rolled treasure maps that collected way too much dust, some hardhats, and a couple of binoculars. Dust lies over every surface. Most of it is on the posters hanging on the weakening wooden walls and the floor showing our foot prints.

Next to the couple of glasses thickly encrusted with dried up mold is a piece of uneven cut wood. I lean back against the dirty wall and take a look at the sloppily carved word ‘The Crib’. My eyebrows go up in ridicule and I show it to Xander.

“You trippin’?” he says in the worst imitation of a black man’s accent. “Fresh Prince was the hype back in the day.”

I put it back and crawl towards the window, hoping for some fresh air. The whole window frame gives out when I push against the glass. I trip back and the wood underneath me creaks.

“Watch it, Spike. This treehouse wasn’t built yesterday!”

I squint at the light creeping through the fractured window frame. “Who built this rot?”

“Jesse’s dad. We wanted to help, but he got Mrs. McNally to distract us with ice cream in the park.” Xander smiled at the two other differently colored plastic chairs that faced the one he’s sitting on. “He was pretty cool.”

He seems to be lost in happy childhood memories when I clear my throat. He snaps out of it immediately. “Right. Better get this research party startin’ soon. Off to the library.” He drops the rope ladder through the hole and starts climbing down.

The ladder sways slightly as I descend. The man who built this collapsing playhouse couldn’t have made a rigid wooden ladder? The kiddies must have fallen off quite a bit.

Xander meets me at the end of the ladder. “We better hurry. Willow wants us to go to the school basketball game tonight.”

“You hate sports.”

“With the passion of a bull chasing red.” Xander grimaces as we walk down the pavement. “There’s also that Hogan Martin guy who thinks he’s so hot. Like we should all be awed by him ‘cause he can put a ball in a net.”

I spot a cluster of tykes taking a piss out of an old miserable bloke. “How about I interest you in another plan for tonight?”

“Not banging you, Spike.”

I punch his arm. He yelps.

“No, nitwit, now that you know I’m a century old vampire, thought you’ll take advantage…”

“Vampires don’t do it for me either.” He evades the expected punch with a laugh. But then I trick him with a swift one to the guts. He cowers. I’m satisfied.

“Last one?”

“Swear,” he whimpers.

I sigh. “Before I was indecorously interrupted, I was going to tell you that I know almost all of Angel’s dirty little secrets,” – that got his attention – “So, let’s use that knowledge to take the mickey out of the old brood. Give him something to do.”

“Very considerate of you.” He gives the nod of a professional therapist. “Guy’s been locking himself in that mansion for a week. All doom and gloom, your classic Angel. He needs some company.”

“And who’s better than us, right? We’ll brighten his night.”

“Let’s just hope he doesn’t get too happy.”

“Oh, believe me he won’t.”

Xander gives another therapist nod, most probably copying his own. After the last incident, Rupert was adamant that Xander seeks professional help. Xander went along with it as long as the matter stays a secret between us. He’d been to two sessions so far. He says the biggest challenge was to come up with believable stories to replace the supernatural. Bet it’s why he enjoys going there.




~*~*~*~*~





The trip to the mansion was a doss. Angel wasn’t there. Like a bloody rat, he predicted the earthquake and turned tail. Now Xander’s grouching all the way home. Cars passing by and honking can’t block his relentless grizzle. He won’t stop yapping about that silly match his friends went to and some bloke named Hogan Martin.

Turning around the curb, I slap my hand on Xander’s mouth and let out a low whistle.

There’s Angel dawdling down the pavement with Buffy in one of their usual depressing romantic strolls.

We slip over the wooden fence and hide behind a tree, just in time to see Angel stopping Buffy in her tracks to whisper oh so tenderly, “And no matter what happens, I’ll be with you.”

Buffy’s eating it up, eyes glistening and glancing down to his hand holding hers.

Angel attempts a sexy lopsided smile. “I’ll love you even if you’re covered in slime.”

Xander and I share matching gag faces. Even Buffy isn’t impressed. “I liked everything up until that.”

Angel opens his mouth. Stops. Sniffs the air. “We’re watched.”

I turn to Xander. “We’re caught.”

We hold up our hands in surrender and come out of hiding.

Buffy’s eyes widen. “What are you guys doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the game with Willow and Oz?”

“And why should you have all the fun?” I jump over the fence and face her with arms crossed over chest. “Think we’re trading an exciting demon hunt for a mildly interesting match?”

She’s about to reply when suddenly a frown takes over her face and she looks at Xander. “Nice save?” she asks him in confusion.

Xander looks as confused. “How did you…”

“Buffy, I think I’m going to leave,” Angel interrupts, already about to make a quick exit.

“Why the rush, Romeo?” I call after him. “Said you’ll be with her no matter what. What? Was that all talk?”

“William,” Buffy reproaches.

I hold up a hand. “Careful there, Slayer, you don’t know how many women he said that, too.”

Angel starts to stammer. “I didn’t… what are you…”

“You see, the poor sod got burned. A pretty bird with the name Sarah Gilfried ruined him for all women.”

Buffy frowns. “Sarah who?”

Angel startles. “How did you…”

“Who’s this Sarah?” Buffy turns to Angel with accusation in her eyes. Obviously his stunt with Faith still troubles her mind.

“Buffy, I swear it was a long time ago. Before your great, great, great grandfather was born.”

Xander nudges my shoulder. “Wish I brought popcorn!”

I take a smug step forward, my mind running through every adventure I had with Angelus and all the tales Drusilla told me about his pathetic life as a human. “And even if an aristocrat lady like Miss Gilfried agreed to pursue a relationship, you were eventually going to lose her to the Immortal. Not that I think you’d be around to see Rome, don’t think Grandma bitch would have found you as fascinating if you weren’t a tiddly muck up.”

“Grandma bitch?” Angel repeats in shock.

“Drusilla’s grandma, isn’t she?” I come up with the quickest save.

Angel’s mouth hangs open. Buffy just stares at me pensively.

“Watcher records,” I answer Angel’s unasked question. William is a bookworm, ‘course he read all about it.

“The watcher records knew about Sarah?” Angel asks incredulously.

“You’d be surprised what they have on you,” I lie again then turn to a silent Buffy with a smirk. “Once he crashed a wedding party and beat the groom to death with his own arm.”

“Good cripes, Buffy,” Xander exclaims. “That is not a guy you want to be with. Not marriage material.”

I turn to Xander with a nod. “She wouldn’t want a git who was chased out of London by an angry mob. Hiding his arse in an abandoned mine shaft in Yorkshire.” Angelus was mightily brassed off. His good name sullied and in fear of being hunted. I chuckle at the memory. “Very degrading.”

Angel’s eyebrows furrow in bewilderment. “I was never chased out of London by an angry mob.”

Caught off guard. “You weren’t?”

“Did the watcher records say that?”

Bugger! I was the one who got us chased out of London. Spike not being there meant Angelus and his ladies still lived in luxury.

I try to come up with a good cover up story when Buffy shakes her head. “I… I need to go.”

Angel rushes after her. “Buffy, wait! That was all in the past when I didn’t have a soul. It doesn’t mean anything now.”

She looks up at him, her face really disturbed. “It’s not you, Angel. I… I have to go.”

She vanishes into the night while a troubling feeling stirs in the pit of my stomach. Is she going to ask Rupert about those watcher records? Would I get in trouble again?

“You’ve changed.” Angel eyes me dryly. “I’d expect this immaturity from Xander, but not you.”

“Hey!” Xander exclaims in offense. “But yeah, you got a point there.”

Angel shakes his head and stalks away.

“You were right,” Xander comments with a satisfied grin. “That was bitchin’ fun.”

“Do you think Buffy will get us in trouble?” I ask anxiously.

He drapes an arm over my shoulder. “The watcher diaries have all the scoop on Angel. Willow told me that last year. You’re safe.”








~*~*~*~*~





Victory cheer takes over the school the next day. Our little ponce of a principal has thrown a celebration for the basketball team’s latest win. Xander and I stuck around to observe the racket for a while before heading towards the library.

Library doors swing open and the chatter dies inside. Grave faces stare at us with eerie silence. I crack a smile to hide the growing worry within me. “What’s with the long faces? We won the game. You lot should be happy.”

Rupert’s face is ice solid; his grim eyes are bare and more menacing without his glasses. “We’ll be a lot happier if you told us how you managed to possess my son’s body.”

Anxious smile disappears. Heart sinks. “What?”

“Your name is Spike and you were a vampire for one hundred and nineteen years,” Buffy says calmly, perched on the research table with Willow and Oz occupying the chairs on her right and Wesley on her left. “We know you’re hiding the truth from us.” She fixes her hard gaze on Xander. “Both of you.”

Willow looks accusingly at her long time best friend. “Xander, how could you do that?”

Heart hammers painfully fast, I don’t think I can feel my legs. It’s over. They know. It’s… over. I don’t even hear what Xander stammers trying to explain because my gaze is frozen on Rupert’s. His eyes numb with absolute hate and despair.

Wesley pushes his chair back and flips a page on a book he’s holding. “I have studied and done research on Angelus in my years in the watcher council and I have never heard of the name Spike.”

“Because he’s not from our reality. Right, Spike?” The look in Buffy’s eyes. That’s the Slayer. Menacing and dangerous. Not the girl nervous enough trying to reconcile with me last week.

Xander holds up his hands. “Now wait a minute…”

“Shut up, Xander!” Rupert barks.

Xander shrinks next to me. This isn’t the first time Rupert loses his temper on him, but it was never this personal. “I took you into my home, fed you and mended the cuts on your wrists every time you had a relapse all while you were betraying me behind my back.”

Buffy gawks at Xander in shock. “You slit your wrists?”

Willow jumps to her feet and glares at me. “You told me he stopped!”

Buffy turns to her. “You knew?”

Xander turns to me. “You told Willow?”

I swallow a bile that rose in my throat, eyes on Rupert’s hard face. He’s right in front of me, not a trace of the loving father I’ve come accustomed to.

“Where’s my son you bleeding bastard?”



~*~*~*~*~


Part 22
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