PART 2 - Vampire Graffiti
Spike felt like he had just entered an alternate reality: Xander
visiting - unexpected; Xander bringing gifts - intriguing; Xander bonding with
him - astounding; Xander wanting to talk about sex - downright surreal.
He tilted his head, searching Xander's face for clues and trying to
decide if he should feel flattered or suspicious. The young man was visibly
nervous, also embarrassed. He wasn't giving off any hostile vibes, though, and
Spike had been under the impression that Xander had enjoyed this evening as
much as he himself had.
"Harris, you're even weirder than I thought," the vampire
said. "Why me, of all people?"
"It's not like I've got hordes of buddies breaking down my
door," the young man said with just a hint of sadness and the
self-deprecatory sarcasm that was his trademark.
"What makes you think I won't lie - like everybody else does, when
it comes to sex?"
"You've always been honest about hating us all and about wanting to
kill us."
*Yeah, like I was telling the truth,* Spike thought. "Alright then, go on,
pick my brain," he said aloud, quite prepared to humor the young man in
exchange for the pleasant evening he had had. But if this was an attempt to
somehow make a fool of him, if this turned out to be another instalment of
Now-we-need-him-now-we-don't, he'd... do what? Swallow it as usual. Perhaps
land a few snarky comments. Spike stifled a sigh. His good mood was beginning
to evaporate.
Xander swallowed. This was the moment he had been working towards. *Soften
him up with a few drinks, and get him to talk.* That had been his plan. Not
particularly cunning, but worth a try. If the vampire behaved like an asshole,
as usual, it was always possible to abort the whole plan and go for an orderly
retreat. But getting the vampire into buddy mode had been like forcing an open
door. Also, nothing had prepared Xander for the vampire's total normalcy. Spike
had behaved like a normal human being. During the films he'd even laughed in
all the right places.
Xander had always thought Spike hung around them just so he could get on
their nerves or get to Buffy. But now it occurred to him that the vampire might
have just wanted company. Was it possible Spike felt lonely?
Xander was beginning to feel slightly guilty for having manipulated the
guy like that. Perhaps he should just get out without presenting the vampire
with the bill, figuratively speaking.
He began to pick up the shards of the glass he had dropped.
Xander took a deep breath. "Hey, why ruin a perfectly good evening
with my problems. We can talk about those some other time. I should be getting
home."
"What? The evening's still young! It's Friday night. It's not like
you've got to work tomorrow. How about
another film?" the vampire suggested.
"More Python's?"
"Blackadder?"
"Deal. But I wanna pizza first." Xander said.
"Uhm... Yeah, well, getting a pizza might be kinda tricky. There's
a payphone 'bout 2 or 3 minutes from here, but it never works when you need it
to." He prudently omitted the fact that he had vented his frustration on
that particular phone several times. "And noone's gonna deliver pizza to
the cemetery. Not in this town. Can't say I blame 'em."
"Ouch," Xander suddenly exclaimed. He had cut himself on one
of the shards. It was only a shallow cut, but the smell was enough to make
Spike's stomach rumble. Xander looked up and caught Spike staring at him
hungrily. "Oh no!" he said. "That wasn't the dinner bell I just
rung, was it?"
"Sorry mate, but now I'm really hungry. Let's go!"
"Huh?" Xander said, sucking his injured finger.
"Willie's or the hospital, you choose."
"Double huh?"
"I'm out of blood and since I can't see you donating any we're
gonna go out to get some. We can grab a pizza on the way."
"Oh. Okay," Xander said and got up. He found himself swaying
and realized he was slightly more drunk than he had thought. "Oopsy!"
He grabbed the backrest of the chair to steady himself.
Spike chuckled. But when he got up, he wasn't all that steady, either.
In the end it took them almost 10 minutes to reach the cemetery gate,
because they certainly didn't take the shortest route. They were quite a sight,
leaning on each other for support.
"This is your phone, the one you were talking about?" Xander
asked, eyeing a graffiti covered payphone. He picked up the two halves of a
receiver and placed them on top of the dented booth. "You're right, it's
broken."
"Told you so," Spike said.
"'Slutty sucks'," Xander read aloud. Spike wisely refrained
from any comment. He tried to pull Xander away from the booth, but the young
man shook him off and continued to read the graffiti that had been scratched
into the paint. "'Angel is a catamite'... what's a catamite? And what's
this: 'Need help with your suicide? Leave your number.' Hey, stop pulling on my
sleeve, Spike! Lemme read."
"You shouldn't read other people's diaries," Spike complained.
"This is your diary? It's a public pay phone, man. Does the word
'public' mean something to you?"
"Yeah, means 'break with impunity'. Are you coming?"
"'Fuck the Librarian'? You really need help, Spike." Xander
let himself be dragged along by the insistent vampire but made a mental note to
come back sometime during the day to study this gold mine of Spike related
information more closely. Also, there was this word to look up: cata-something.
When they reached a junction, Spike stopped. "Which way? Willie's
or the hospital? Make up your mind."
"Willie's." Xander said, not really caring either way.
"Right then," Spike said, leading the way. "So, what was
it you wanted to know? I'm not daft. I knew you were up to something the moment
you played Mary Poppins, poppin' all those goodies outa your magic
cooler."
"Sorry. Was it that obvious?" Xander said.
"Blatantly. So what. I consider myself well paid, and in advance,
too. Makes a change from ripped through dollar bills. And it's not like I
haven't had my brain picked before." Spike shrugged. "Although, most
people just want to talk about killing and maiming."
Xander made a face. "Nope. Not me. That's so not me."
"Yeah, what else is new. Listen, could we just get to the point?
And before you turn this into a grand epic full of uhs and hmms, try saying it
in five words or less."
Xander frowned and tried to restore some kind of order to his
intoxicated brain.
"Anya. Likes. Weird. Sex." He paused, mentally counting his
words, and then, "Eew?"
"If you're having those kinds of problems with Anya, can I have
some, too? Cause it's obviously not keeping you from getting laid on a regular
basis," the vampire said with a smirk.