Spike stared at the ceiling of Xander's apartment as he lay on the bed. There were clothes pilled in one corner, heavy tan drapes over the windows. The apartment smelled a little musty, he could tell that the floral perfumes of Anya's soaps were finally starting to fade after her being gone for a week, but Spike barely noticed. He ignored the dishes piled on the floor next to the bed, the trash that needed to be taken out in the kitchen.
None of those details were making him loose himself in thought. Beside him, Xander's corpse lay in a parody of sleep. Spike hated mysteries. And Xander, while predictable enough in life, was a complete mystery in death.
'Bloody git still ain't rotting.' Spike thought to himself. 'I'd smell it. And I'm not getting that little tingly feeling that he's about to rise yet, either. And I didn't feed him none of my blood, so I don't think he'll rise a vamp. But what will he be?'
Spike shook his head, looking over the still warm corpse. 'Been nine hours- and he's still warm. Damn.' William the Bloody gave a needless sigh, getting up to go into the bathroom. 'Might as well clean him up. He's still a mess.'
It had started out as a pretty typical night- Slutty had wanted to spend some time with her soldier-boy, so they had split up for patrol. With a little maneuvering, Spike had gotten the whelp, better known as the demon-magnet, to go with him. Boy always managed to draw a bit of violence like flies to honey. Spike wanted a good fight.
Everything was going well until they had run into a great big ugly fellow. Roaring to wake the dead, the demon had charged them on sight.
Spike repressed a shutter, thinking of the serrated claws on the end of the whipping tentacles of the demon that had tore into the young man's flesh. He had gotten clawed by that kind of demon before and something in the claws made it hurt more. The demon had swiped at Xander, tossing him like a piece of trash into the marble wall of the crypt, the loud crack of his skull seeming un-naturally loud. The vampire dimly remembered howling in bloodlust, tearing into the beast. It had fled, and he had stayed to check up on the whelp.
Dead. Without a doubt.
It had taken him less than a second to figure out what to do- he stashed Xander's body in an old crypt and took off after the demon. Xander would keep, but the demon could get away. And besides the fact that Xander had been the only one of the Slayerettes that had been nice to him of late (it was nice of Zapper to still be afraid of him, let him feel all 'Big Bad', not like a toothless wonder)- that damn Slayer would kill him if he didn't get that demon. That's what he kept telling himself, anyway. He didn't really question his actions then, and he wouldn't question them now.
'Stupid git, you were supposed to be my kill! I was gonna turn you all nice and proper like, you'd make a perfect minion- all loyal and such!' Spike thought furiously. 'Now, you're all dead and act'n strange!'
Towels, a bunch of wet washcloths from the tiny bathroom, and he went back into the messy bedroom, grimacing as he went. The demon had been hard to kill, but he had managed. Taken an hour to track it down, he had hit it a few times before it had run again. He followed, cornering it again and again before it had finally stopped running and died. It had taken hours, and it had been close to sunrise before he had managed to get back to the crypt.
He had opened the stone coffin, only to look down on Xander, lying there, face frozen in a grimace. Spike had reached down, gently lifting the corpse. Blinking at the warmth. Hours dead corpses laying on cold stone weren't supposed to feel fresh killed. Spike sniffed, brow furrowing in confusion.
Corpses started to smell like death quite quickly to a vamp's sensitive nose. Xander's body held nothing but the sweet smell of drying blood.
But there was little time till sunrise, so Spike had carried Xander's dead body back to the whelp's apartment. He wanted to figure out this mystery before he called the Watcher. 'Besides,' Spike told himself as he carefully removed Xander's shirt, 'if he's going to be a vamp or some other undead thing, he won't want to see the Watcher. He'll get staked. And maybe he'll be grateful, and we can pair up and I can get out of this town.'
Spike looked down, nodding to himself. It was a good plan- Xander might not be 'his' minion, but he could still claim him. Spike started wiping the wet washcloth over the whelp's skin, sponging off the blood. He stuck the washcloth in his mouth, sucking on the whelp's blood as he grabbed the next cloth. No reason to waste the free snack.
'Damn, the whelp was right, he tastes great.' Spike's eyebrows rose as he continued to clean off the bloody chest, sticking each bloody cloth in his mouth in turn. He suddenly stopped, looking down. 'Damn it, he got struck in the chest, there's blood everywhere. But where's the wound?'
He looked around, taking in the blood-smeared and unmarked skin of Xander's corpse. He sent pale fingers through the brunette's hair, feeling the firm roundness of the young man's skull. Spike growled, he had felt the mushy back of Xander's head hours ago, but now it was healed.
But the boy was still dead.
Spike leaned over, smelling Xander. 'Still not rotting.' He breathed in deep, then ran a tongue over the whelp's skin. 'Tastes alive. Dying usually makes the skin taste all bitter.' He smelled again, then licked from Xander's chest upwards. His tongue began to tingle, and he pulled back. Little blue sparks were jumping over Xander's skin.
"What the 'ell?" Spike whispered to himself. The sparks stopped, and Spike waited, then leaned over and started to lick again. Maybe he tasted different after that light show.
Xander took a shuttering breath, then sat up. "What the!" He screeched, pushing Spike back, "stop licking me! And how'd I get here? What happened to-"
"You're breathing?" Spike growled, pushing Xander back down, sniffing at him again. "Damn git. Taste alive, breathing, heart's beating-"
"Of course! Why shouldn't I be?"
"You've been dead for nine hours!" Spike yelled back. "Damn Ranell demon threw you into a wall, smashed your skull. Remember?"
Xander looked at Spike like he was nuts, then growing horror washed over his face. "Dead? I... remember... YOU TURNED ME?" Xander was furious, limply thrashing.
"NO YOU GIT! YOU'RE ALIVE!" Spike snapped back. "BUT YOU WEREN'T! I watched. You never rotted. Never got cold. I..."
"Why didn't you call Giles?" Xander hissed, wobbly sitting up. The vampire thought he looked nauseous, or maybe drunk.
"I..." Spike looked away, looked back. "Couldn't figure it out. Thought if you came back vamped, you wouldn't want to get staked. Doin' you a favor."
"Oh." Xander said, then suddenly looked even more nervous and terrified. "But, we should get a hold of him. Since you say I'm not vamped. Damn good thing it's Saturday, I don't have to go to work." His eyes looked unfocused as he started to ramble on, "stupid hellmouthy stuff- at least it's a weekend, I won't miss work, I don't have any more sick days..."
"Maybe." Spike sighed. "But..." Spike reached out, slapping Xander.
"Hey!"
"Ow! Damn it!" Spike snarled, grabbing his head. "You're still human, whelp."
"Why wouldn't I be?" Xander grumbled, rubbing his check. "I'm breathing, aren't I?"
"I dunno why not- you've been dead since ten last night maybe?" Spike growled. "Soddin' sun's up. Go without me." The kid was getting on his nerves, the whole situation was confusing, and the Slayer was likely to get mad at him. Better to lay low.
"I should. But Giles will have questions. And I don't have any fresh blood. You drank the last before we left for patrol. And... and- and-" Xander took a deep breath. "You're playing with me, aren't you? I mean- it just knocked me out, and-"
"NO!" Spike yelled. "I know dead, Xander. I know dead better than you know livin'. You were dead. Not breathin', no pulse, no nothin'. Only reason I didn't drain your corpse was 'cause you were still warm and not rottin'. Thought it might set off that soddin' chip, didn't want to risk it." And didn't want no mojo in him, Xander could have been not rotting because of a spell, but better not mention that- yet.
"But- I couldn't have died... I'm NOT a vamp!" Xander grabbed the last clean washcloth, toweling off the last of the dried blood.
"I know that, you stupid git. You were dead- bleeding all over. Ruined your shirt. Now you don't have a mark on you. YOU tell me what happened!"
Xander was looking around, feeling his chest. "I remember claws... Spike, what happened?"
Spike told him.
"You left me in a crypt?" The little zapper managed to sound both horrified and outraged.
"Weren't goin' nowhere. Didn't want you dyin' all un-avenged and all that." Spike leaned forward, sniffing at Xander. "You don't smell dead, don't taste dead, don't sound dead... feel funny?"
Xander's jaw dropped. "Taste dead? Dead people taste different?" He scrambled back, getting to his feet. He stumbled over to his closet, riffling around for a new shirt. The young man's hands seemed to fumble over the clothes like he was drunk and dizzy Spike noticed.
"Course." Spike sniffed again, walking over to stand behind the young man. Then he grinned. "You're right, Nummy. You taste great. Blood's all rich like chocolate. Why don't you cut yourself a bit, and we can see if those funny blue sparks come back?"
"Cut myself?" Xander's eye's widened. "Are you nuts?" He smelled one of his plaid shirts, determined that it was fresh enough, and pulled it on.
"Just a little one," Spike purred as he stepped close to the nervous man. "Won't hurt, if the knife is real sharp. You can use mine. Just to see if the sparks come back."
Xander's face scrunched up, "Sparks didn't come until I was all healed, you said. Might never come back. Might be a one shot deal."
"Test it." Spike whispered. "What's one scratch after last night?" The vampire looked wistfully at the man, something inside calling out for another taste of that blood, flowing rich over his tongue.
"Fine." Xander said. "Truly nuts, but why not? This is crazy enough as it is." Spike handed him his knife, and Xander carefully drew a shallow cut along his forearm. Blood dribbled out of the cut, and then little blue sparks began chasing themselves along the slice. It closed, leaving a thin blood trail and unmarked skin.
Spike pulled Xander's arm out, leaned over, and licked it clean.
"Eww..." Xander whispered. "Do you have to do that?" He stared at his arm, fascinated. Poked at the now unblemished skin with unsteady fingers.
"You taste... different, pet." Spike mumbled. "Never tasted a human that was this good. Better than the Slayers I've eaten."
Xander was rubbing his arm, looking at it. He grimaced, picking up the knife again. "That's weird. It feels strange when it heals- and it doesn't hurt as much when I cut either. I'm going to test it again. I want to cut a little deeper, but I don't want to go too far. Will your chip go off if you guide my hand?"
"Bloody 'ell. I dunno, whelp." Spike was looking at Xander, weighing it in his head. "Giles would be able to judge it- he's got experience." His tongue tingled, and he felt like he had just eaten a hippie- a very high hippie- his head was buzzing.
"You're right, let's go visit." The whelp looked nervous, twitching and glancing between Spike and the door.
"I don't want to go out." Spike pouted. "You can go alone."
Surprisingly, the brunette suddenly looked panicked. Stuttered out, "You can lick my wounds."
He could think about this on the way- and he didn't really want to miss another taste. "Damn git, come on then." Spike was grabbing a blanket, pulling Xander to the door.