Title: Fixin' To...
Pairing: Spike/Xander, Dru, Connor
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Notes: More snapshots from the baby!vamp!Xander 'verse.
"Spike, I itch." Xander scratched to illustrate his claim with pink striations, flashing the damaged flesh for all to see. "See?"
"Stop it, or I'll stick you in bloody idiot mittens, you git. What did I say about eating random druggies?"
Xander leaned against him and began to thrust and squirm. Spike smiled, until he realised that his role in this was 'scratching post'.
"Oi! I said stop it. It's your fault you're in this fix. It'll wear off in an hour or two, most likely, now stop fidgeting!"
"Spiiike, can't you win the game already so we can go?"
Connor woke, knowing that something - everything - was different.
He could smell things, wrong things, stronger than before - hate, fear and pheromones, blood, sweat and gore.
Fuzzy, fractured images swirled, kaleidoscopic, in his head - faces, places, towering scaffolds, insane smiling eyes and solemn porcelain dolls with rouge-red cheeks and grubby noses.
He felt strong.
Even on his back, eyes still closed, he felt the power humming, buzzing loudly underneath his skin. Old power. New power. Power that was his. Power from earth and sun, blood and family.
He'd use it, once he got a fix on why he felt so different…
Not So Crazy
"Break it, bend it,
Fix it, mend it,
Render it in shades of blue.
Twist it, turn it,
Stake it, burn it,
Always will the blood run true."
Dru crooned and rocked Miss Edith, waiting for the sign, tuning out the menfolk and their talk of what went wrong. She knew.
She knew he was waking, felt it, long before he did it - her baby brother, uncle, grandson, flesh and blood made god. She watched the spark of consciousness grow behind her eyes, and shared a look of vampire-doll collusion when Angelus froze.
"Soon we'll all be dancing for him."