PART 9 - Pandora's Box of Brownies
It was about three in the afternoon, when Xander arrived at the
cemetery. Curiosity won so he paid Spike's phone booth a visit. When he found a
message advertising gay phone sex and listing a familiar phone number he
finally understood, why Giles had recently gotten a new telephone number. He
grinned. *Spike, you dastardly fiend!*
There was a bunch of graffiti, obviously not all written by Spike, but
some just had that certain ring to them. 'Bored beyond bloody belief' for
instance. And who else would scratch
'Harris is a hottie' into a derelict phone booth...
He knocked at Spike's door, but got no reply, so he opened the door a
bit and peered into the dimly lit mausoleum. Spike was nowhere to be seen. *Probably
downstairs.* This was his chance to grab his stuff and get out without
having to talk to the vampire about... well, anything.
The cooler stood right where Xander had left it. He placed the
Tupperware container Anya had given him on the arm rest of Spike's chair and
bent down to pick up the bag with his rentals. There was a crumpled T-shirt
lying next to them, with a few whitish blotches on the black fabric.
Xander hesitated. He went to the hole in the ground, took a few steps
down the ladder. *Just a quick look…*
He saw Spike lying motionless on a large four-poster bed. Shirtless.
Which shouldn't bother him, really, because he had so proven last night and
today that he was anything but gay.
He quietly climbed down further, half expecting Spike to rise and greet
him. But the prone body on that bed remained just that, prone.
Weren't these guys supposed to wake up when someone sneaked into their
lair? Xander walked over to the bed, drawn towards the sleeping man as if on
invisible strings. Spike's eyes were closed. There was no flutter of lashes, no
rapid-eye-movement. And his chest was absolutely still. He looked like a well
preserved corpse. Which he was.
Xander stared. He stared at Spike's washboard abs and his muscular
chest. It looked like a finely chiseled piece of alabaster, very pale, with a
slightly translucent quality. Blue veins and arteries were visible under that
smooth skin. There were also faint traces of scars where that hellbitch, Glory,
had tortured him. Xander had seen the injuries when they had been fresh. He
still remembered how sick he had felt when he had realized that the hellgoddess
had started to flay the vampire. For the first time, he had actually felt sorry
for Spike. Well, it looked like the injuries had healed well. And those he had
sustained falling off the tower were almost gone, too.
"See anything you like?" the vampire asked softly, opening his
eyes.
"Huh!" Xander exclaimed with a start. "You're
awake!" he laughed nervously.
"Well?"
"I had wondered about that, I mean, if I had been a vampire hunter
out to add another notch to my trusted stake..."
"I knew it was you," the vampire interrupted. He rose, swung
his legs over with a flourish and jumped out of bed, landing with feline grace
about an arm's length in front of Xander. Every inch a predator. "I'd know
your scent out of a million people, yours and that of your little
ex-demon." *all over you* - which was one of the reasons why he
wasn't a happy person.
*Man, he looks grumpy.* Xander thought. *A vampire with a
hangover! I bet those who see one rarely live to tell the tale.*
"Speaking of which," he babbled nervously, "Anya thought
you might like some brownies. Willow made them." He made a vague gesture
towards the upper level of the crypt.
*Oh yeah, gimme some crumbs.* the vampire growled inwardly. *Throw
me a bone.* He didn't take his eyes off Xander. "Bearing gifts again,
huh?" He took a step towards the human. "And how was today's wake-up
sex?" he smirked. He was tense like a coiled spring.
"Whoa," Xander quipped. "Foul-tempered much?" He
resisted the urge to take a step backwards.
"Just fed up with your games! What are you playing at,
Harris?"
"Hey? MY games? Gee, Spike, I've got news for you. The world does
not revolve around you. Why on earth would I want to play games with you. Get
real, fangface."
The vampire laughed without mirth. "So, why are you here?"
"To pick up my stuff." Xander told the glowering vampire. *Oops,
evidently the wrong answer!*
"Yeah well, take it and bugger off!"
"Sulking so doesn't suit you, Spike."
"Yeah? Then tell me what does."
*Lack of clothing? Oops, evidently the wrong thought. Bad Xander!* He gave himself a
mental slap on the wrist. "You know, you really are a bad host. You could
at least offer me some coffee," he said. "I mean, what's with you,
anyway?"
"I'm a vampire in a bleedin' crypt. I'm not equipped for live
visitors. All I've got are those brownies you brought." Pause. "Are
they good?" he asked.
"Yeah," Xander answered sullenly.
The vampire relented. "Let's have’m, then."
They went upstairs, sat down on Spike's stone sarcophagus and dug into
the container.
"Hmm, not bad," the vampire said, with his mouth full.
"Even better than her cookies. So, where's the catch?" He was still
suspicious. Should have been more suspicious last night, too. He felt like he
owed Xander for the whiskey and the admittedly pleasant evening, and he was
eager to pay up and be free of any further obligation.
Xander realized it was time he told the vampire what he wanted from him.
Not exactly a very harmonious moment, granted. But Spike knew something was up and
all that pussyfooting around would only further antagonize the vampire and
raise his suspicions. The longer Xander waited, the more difficult it would
become to ask that fateful question. So, it was time to stick his neck out -
figuratively, of course. *It's now or never* a voice urged him on.
"Um, the thing is, it's Anya's birthday in two weeks."
The vampire just arched his eyebrows at the sudden change of topic.
"And I want to give her something really special," Xander
continued. *Now or never*
"Your point being?" Spike asked.
"I was thinking... um... well..." *Now or never*
Spike looked into the container. Only one brownie remained. He popped it
into his mouth.
"... a threesome."
That was when Spike choked on his cake.