Title: Demon Catnip
Pairing: Spike/Xander (and a side of Dru)
Rating: R for violence
Feedback/Concrit: darkhavens @ slashverse.com
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Warnings/Squicks: One of the core Buffy characters dies 'offscreen', but it's not one of the boys. :D
Summary: Things take a left turn into AU when Angel arrives with Xander under his arm in 'School Hard'.
Notes: Written for txrabbit for slashfest. For the purposes of this fic I have taken Spike's 'You were my sire, man!' as the gospel truth.
Request: Spike accepts Angel's gift in School Hard, what happens next?
It went bad right from the beginning...
"I'll be damned!"
Spike tossed the pole aside and moved in to hug his Sire, catching the scent of the boy held firmly underneath the other's arm. It acted like demon catnip - all fear and fury - and Spike's attention narrowed down to tastefuckmine.
"I taught you..."
"You bought me a welcome home gift! Angelus, you shouldn't have!" And faster than Angel had thought possible, Xander was jerked out from beneath his arm with an "Ow! Oh...shit!" and then all hell broke loose.
Angel made a grab for Xander and Spike clued in that it was all a trick - the soulful Irish git had used the Slayer's mate as bait. He tossed the boy behind him - not hard, but hard enough - and heard the crack as teenage head met hard school wall. The briefest of glances over his shoulder told Spike his present was out for the count, but the human's heart was still ticking behind his ribs and his chest was moving.
"I can't believe you tried to trick me. You were my Sire, man! You can't just offer a bloke a gift like that and then take it back!" Spike snatched his pole back up and snarled, furious.
"Come on, people! This isn't a spectator sport!"
And the battle began in earnest.
None of the vampires spoke as they followed Spike's angry, burdened march back to the warehouse. They'd seen what had happened to Saul when he'd asked why they were taking the boy. Curiosity killed that vampire and there was nothing going to bring him back, so they stayed silent and hoped that The Anointed would be able to make the British idiot see sense.
The Slayer was going to want her friend back.
Nobody got in his way as he carried his precious prize down to the bedroom. He hoped Drusilla was awake and vaguely lucid or things could get sticky.
"Spike! Oh, Spike, I had the strangest little dream. Daddy was here; he came to say goodbye. He tastes of ashes. He said that... Oh."
Drusilla turned from arranging and petting her dolls and watched, intrigued, as Spike laid a gangly boy gently on her bed. She watched him brush the tousled tobacco locks back from the youthful face and smiled as he stroked the parted lips.
"He's a pretty one. Is he our new prince? Daddy said you stole the Slayer's knight; that he must be our secret. If we don't keep him hidden, she's going to take him back."
Reassured by the steady pulse beneath his fingers, Spike listened carefully as Dru shared her dream. He'd kept them both out of harm's way this long by being cautious. His dark plum was a crazy gifted seer, no mistake. So, if Daddy said the boy should be their little secret, he needed to make sure that no one else could break the faith.
"Princess, you stay here and keep our sleeping houseguest company. I'll just pop upstairs and tidy up a few loose ends."
Spike returned to the bedroom to find Drusilla seated on the bed, absently petting their guest as he lay in her arms, at least partly conscious.
"This is Spike, my sweet, he takes care of us." The young boy nodded.
Dark glee flickered in Dru's eyes as she glanced up at Spike.
"Our darling boy has hit his head and can't recall a thing. I told him not to worry, that he's ours, that we'll take care of him. He understands how dangerous it is to step outside. He promises not to sneak out on his own, don't you, Kitten?"
A satisfied smile curled across Spike's mouth as he realised Dru had used her powers of thrall to good effect. The bump on the head had given her the chance to do some nifty headwork. He figured the boy might never remember who he used to be, especially if they kept his friends from 'fixing' him.
"She's right, luv. You're ours, a gift from our Daddy. He knows I've always had a thing for pretty, dark eyed brunettes."
'Kitten' blinked, then smiled shyly, too tired to be embarrassed. His head began to throb every time he tried to think, but gently stroking fingers soothed the worst of the pain away and he let himself relax and just accept.
She'd told him what he needed to know - he was their own sweet Kitten - and the words had carved themselves into his soul, he knew them to be true. He loved them both, this Spike and Dru, and knew they loved him back, that ache inside his heart was something precious. And while he thought that maybe there were other things he should remember, surely there was nothing more important than that fact.
Willow was practically catatonic. Buffy was in tears. Giles was... well, the guilt was eating him up from the inside. He had been the one who ordered Xander to fetch Angel. He had been the one who had assumed the way was clear. And now the boy, who'd proved himself a hero every other day, was gone, and so was Angel.
Xander's memorial service was on a Tuesday, after school. He didn't attend, he was much too busy being thoroughly loved and treasured.
Originally posted in slashfest here.