*****
Part 6:
The next day brought no real relief for Xander. He was still unsure of the events that had taken place the night before. Consequentially, he avoided the vampire at the root of his problems and went about his business in a daze. Spike left him to his thinking, having learned that Xander sometimes needed a few days to digest things before getting prodded about them. As it turned out, those few days would end up very interesting ones.
When Xander got to work several days later, he found his boss waiting for him. It turned out that several of their suppliers were experiencing difficulty filling orders for some essential building materials. As a result, most of the job sites that his employer had were held up with little they could do. They did not want to lay anyone off, since the needed shipments could arrive at any time. Instead, they were encouraging those employees who were already considering taking vacation time to do so. Xander's boss had noted that the young man had not applied for any time recently, so he offered the same deal to him.
Xander thought about it. He could use a short vacation, somewhere far away from Sunnydale where he could be anonymous and could walk the streets at night without getting eaten. He decided to take a couple of days off, leaving the weekend to round out his free time. The remainder of the work day was spent shuffling around people and machinery, since no real work could be done.
Xander spent the later part of the day thinking about where to go. L.A. sounded like a great place to visit, but he didn't want to run into the gang down there. He was not feeling especially kind toward Angel at the moment. He also decided against a nostalgic trek to beautiful Oxnard. After some pondering, Xander settled on San Francisco. It would be a long drive, but the route was scenic and from what he'd read and heard, the city was packed with things to do. Making up his mind, Xander headed for home. He'd pack tonight and leave in the morning.
Spike watched the whelp with interest. < Wonder what he's up to now. > The human was rummaging through his dresser and closet, muttering softly. When Xander pulled out a large duffle bag and began shoving clothes into it, Spike got alarmed. He stood up and walked into the bedroom.
"Planning a trip then, luv?" The vampire leaned against a bedpost.
"Yup. Going to San Francisco for a few days. Work's been slowed up by some supply shortages, so we've all been encouraged to take a breather. I've been wanting to get out of town for a while, and this is a perfect opportunity." Xander threw a few more garments in the duffle bag. "I'm leaving tomorrow, and I'll be back in a few days. You've got a key, do you mind looking out for the place?" Xander asked Spike. He did not want to leave the apartment without someone to watch it.
Spike was weak with relief. When he first saw Xander packing, he had felt a bolt of fear, thinking that his behavior the night before had run off the whelp. < He'll be back, he said he would. > Putting on a face of casual disinterest, Spike agreed to watch the apartment during Xander's absence.
After getting Spike to agree to stay at the apartment in his absence, Xander called his friends and the Watcher to tell them he was going out of town. This announcement was met with little excitement; everyone was pretty well caught up in their own lives, so news of Xander only leaving town for a few days meant little to them. It hurt that they cared so little, but Xander shrugged it off.
Xander's last evening at home before his trip was spent watching bad movies on television and arguing with Spike over the value of having cheerleaders at sporting events. Xander cried off early, stating that he was driving out of town in the morning and needed his sleep. Both men lay down, one to sleep and one to listen to the other sleep until dawn came to carry him away.
Xander dreamed again about his blonde lover. Once again his lover came to him, cherishing his body and soothing his soul. As always, he failed to see his lover's face. It no longer bothered him when he woke up, though. He'd come to accept his dreams, and that they would probably never be reality. With a spring in his step, Xander got in his car and drove off to freedom, temporary though it was.
.......
< Is it live, does it writhe, can it survive under the sun? I can't put my finger on it.14 > Xander whistled under his breath as he exited the smoky club. San Francisco was everything Sunnydale wasn't-bright and alive. < Yeah, the 'dangerous' element here is human. > Xander thought as he prowled down the streets. He hit a few bars, never drinking much or staying long. < The stores stay open past sundown here, too. Fancy that! >
Xander wandered by a tattoo parlor, looking into the picture windows along the front. The shops were set up so that the art became a spectator sport; the passersby were as engrossed in the process as the artists and customers themselves. Xander found himself thinking about the whole tattoo idea.
< Hmm.body art. A form of branding and self mutilation, according to Willow. An attempt to ensure group affiliation and acceptance, per Giles. The mark of rebellious individuality-Cosmo. > Xander chuckled to himself as he ran through the gamut of tattoo rationalizations. < Me, I'd do it for.expression. Yep, that's it. I'd go the "rebellious individuality-cum-group affiliation route. This is me, Xander, a tried-and-true member of the Zeppos, an exclusive group of losers who. >
Xander's mind drifted off as he watched the artists at work. Suddenly, it clicked. There was no other way for him to describe it. An audible snapping sound in his mind and he'd decided. He was getting a tattoo. Xander was surprised at the wave of relief that washed through him, as though he'd been agonizing over the decision for months, instead of only thinking about it for a few minutes. < Now, what to get? >
With this new question foremost in his mind, Xander continued down the street, the parlor forgotten in his new quest. He ran through all the things that meant something to him. < A zero? Nah, too obvious. A hawk? Um, masochistic much? A stake? It's got possibilities. > The internal dialogue rambled on as Xander entered and exited several more bars. Eventually, he came back to his hotel and went up to his room. He kept up the discussion while stripping down and getting into bed. < I'll just sleep on it. >
The next afternoon found a late-sleeping Xander groping his way to the bathroom. < Guess I had more to drink last night than I thought. > Xander thought to himself as he rinsed out an extremely fuzzy mouth. His eyes popped open. < Tattoo? > "Oh shit! I did not get a tattoo!" He frantically looked over his body. Seeing nothing that hadn't been there before, he let out a sigh. < Well, at least I didn't do anything rash.Of course, if I get one now I can't blame it on spur-of-the-moment idiocy. Nope, it would fall under premeditated idiocy. Oh, look. I used a big word. Pat me on the head, Giles. >
The self-made idiocy comment cemented his decision for some reason. He jumped in the shower, suddenly energetic. < And I know just what to get.If I can find the pictures around here somewhere. > With a new quest in mind, Xander got dressed and headed back out into the streets.
His search was not as difficult as he had anticipated. As it turned out, he was sober enough last night to remember the location of the small specialty shop he'd eyed while bar hopping. After that, a speedy trip to the local health department concluded his activities. With nothing better to do, Xander entered the next restaurant he passed, Chinese as it was, and had an early dinner.
.......
Xander was surprised that he hadn't lost his nerve when he got to the tattoo parlor after dinner. He made sure to get their earlier than he'd been by the night before-he remembered there being a long line for the place, since it did both piercings and body art. He put his name down on the register, then started perusing the drawings and photos on the walls.
Xander was in awe. He'd always equated tattoos with bikers and rebels-crudely done drawings of naked women and roses with names on ribbons. The reality of what he saw was nothing like this. Sure, there were plenty of flowers, nymphs, and cartoon characters. There was also a lot of what was truly art-abstract designs made to cover entire limbs, deceptively simple symbols and glyphs, even a few landscapes that made him cringe imagining the days it would take to draw.
"Xander?" A voice called his name over the low hum of the crowd gathered in the shop. Xander turned around, looking over the people, toward a man in a colorful shirt covered with green and red parrots.
"Yeah, that's me," he said, walking up to the counter.
"So, what's it going to be this evening?" The man asked, looking over his next customer.
"Um, well, I've got a couple of designs-I'd like one on either arm, on the shoulder." Xander pulled out the two pictures he'd brought. The man took them, raising an eyebrow.
"Not bad.This one in color, and this one.just the design in black, right? Or something else-you can look around."
"Ah, like that-black for that one and the colors on the other."
"Ok. They'll look great. I'm going to need some ID, though-" Xander pulled out his driver's license and handed it over.
"Thanks. Laws and all that. We don't do minors here. Well, come on around here and we'll get started." Xander had been hoping that he'd be done in one of the back stalls, but with his luck being what it was, he got a window seat, in front of the audience on the sidewalk. "Take off your shirt; you can hang it over there. By the way, I'm Ben." Xander did as asked.
"Xander, I'm going to show you the equipment. We use disposable needles here-no one else has been inked with your needles, and we destroy yours when we're finished with you. You can see here in the packaging that we've sterilized this set of needles." Ben showed Xander all the safety precautions on the equipment. After Xander had nodded his approval and signed a release form, Ben picked up a disposable razor. He reached over and shaved the upper portion of both of Xander's arms. He tossed the razor and picked up the designs. "Which goes where?" He held them up.
"Um, that one on the left, and this one on the right." Xander pointed. Ben placed them on the skin, using a lotion to transfer the designs. He then spun the chair around, placing Xander's left arm within easy reach. This left Xander facing the crowd on the street. He immediately got speculative glances and a few approving whistles. After a moment's embarrassment, he shrugged and winked at one girl. She wiggled her hips.
"Flirt all you want, Xander, but don't move your body. Tattoos have a tendency to be permanent. You do know that?" Ben joked at the dark haired youth.
"Got it in one, Ben." Xander shot back. He got the message though, and for the rest of the sitting kept his flirting to facial expressions.
He heard a buzzing noise and looked over. Ben had the needle in his hand and was about to start. "This might hurt a bit. Don't jerk too much." He began tracing the outline on Xander's skin.
< Not as bad as I thought it would be. > Xander commented silently as Ben traced the design. It didn't hurt after the first couple of seconds. The sensation was more of a strong vibration that numbed his entire arm. After watching Ben for a few minutes, he turned back to the window.
"So, you live in Sunnydale-it's on your license." Ben asked Xander.
"Yeah. All my life." Xander said softly, glancing at the people walking by.
"In school there? USC Sunnydale?"
"No. I work construction, mostly commercial sites." Xander was comfortable talking about work.
Ben reached over for more ink. "Girlfriend?" He noticed Xander tense up at the question. < Ok, no girlfriend questions. > "I've been working on the next ex-Mrs. Ben for six months now." The crack got the boy to relax a little and Ben went back to work. "So, how do you like the city?"
"San Francisco? It's great-I wish Sunnydale was like this; of course, I'd get nothing done and lose my job from being out all night, but it'd be worth it." Xander smiled, imagining a long string of unique bars and restaurants next to the Magic Box. Indeed, Sunnydale could use a little San Francisco-although the night life would attract every demon within a hundred miles. Ben didn't ask any more questions for a while, so Xander returned to people watching. Time passed quickly, and he didn't look back over to check Ben's progress until he felt the vibrations stop.
"Done?" He looked down.
"Yeah. Take a look." He turned Xander toward a mirror. Xander looked. It was a bit bloody, but he could clearly see the design. It was exactly as he'd pictured it.
"I love it."
"Good, and take a good look. You won't see it again until tomorrow night." Ben wiped down the symbol with a soft cloth, and then covered it with an ointment and a bandage. "After 24 hours, remove the bandage with water, then clean the area-no soap, though. Put some of this lotion, just a little, on it at night. It will scab over-don't pick at the scab or you'll need a touch up." Ben handed Xander a sheet of instructions with the same warnings on it. "You need the john? We can start the other one in a minute. I need a cigarette." Ben got up and walked outside. Xander took him up on the offer making his way to the bathroom.
After relieving himself, he noticed that Ben was still outside. He wandered around the back of the shop. He'd not made it back here before his name was called, and he was curious. The back wall was taken up by a piercing station. From the pictures and jewelry displayed, it was obvious that this place would pierce just about anything. Xander winced at a few of them. "You want a hole?" This question came from a short girl with even shorter black hair. She looked about twelve.
"Hmm.haven't been offered that in days. What do you recommend?" He joked at her, not really taking it seriously.
"You'd look good in earrings, a matched pair. Maybe a nipple ring-you're pretty well built for that. Nothing on the nose or lip. Unless you'd rather get a Prince Albert?" She smirked at the last statement.
Xander's jaw dropped. Except for the last one, which she'd obviously been joking about, she seemed dead serious. He'd never really considered getting any piercings-it just wasn't something he'd really thought about. He wondered, < Would I look good in them? Would they hurt? What would the gang think-earrings are hard to hide.To hell with it, why not? >
"Sure, as long as you promise that it won't hurt." He'd obviously called her bluff-she was momentarily shocked that he'd agreed. He just handed over his driver's license. She took it, then handed it back.
"You're ok-you got past Ben already." She led him over to a jewelry case. "We can get you set up and done before Ben gets back from break." She pulled out a case of rings. "So, what do you like?"
Xander looked at the earrings. He'd thought that he'd be stuck with sissy thin loops for weeks while the holes healed-he'd seen them at the mall, girls getting stapled with earring guns. These rings were infinitely better-thick, sturdy looking stainless with what the girl, Dink as her nametag indicated, called captured beads. He decided on a matched pair for his ears, and a similarly sized one for the nipple. Dink led him to a chair like Ben's and pulled out a bottle of disinfectant, beginning her standard safety speech. The disinfectant was cold, and Xander hissed at her. She blew him a kiss in return.
"What the hell is that!?" Xander's eyes widened comically at the needle Dink held.
"Hey, you want a hole, we use a hole punch, babe. What, you were expecting those things at Claire's? Ugh. We're professionals." She waved the needle at him. Xander just closed his eyes and told her to do her best.
"Take in a breath and release it slowly." As she told Xander to do this, she slid the needle through one earlobe, putting in the jewelry at the same time. He didn't even have time to yelp. "See, not so bad!" Xander opened his eyes, glaring at her.
"You're supposed to count to three, you know." He said with a fake pout.
"Ok then. On three: one, two, three." Dink pierced the second lobe on two.
"Shit! On three, on three!" Xander's voice hit a very high note, then returned to normal. "That last one's gonna hurt, isn't it?" He was worried for the first time that evening. Tattoos and earrings didn't faze him, but he really liked his nipples.
"Actually, it shouldn't be as bad as the ears. Just relax."
"Relax. She says relax. I've got a ten year old holding a needle to my chest and she says relaaa-" Xander was cut short by a pinch to his left nipple. Dink had pierced it during his rant.
"All done now, Xander. Follow all my instructions and you'll be great! Ben's about done, you should head back up there." She pulled him out of her chair and toward the front of the store.
"Dink, what'd you do to him?" Ben asked, crushing out his cigarette.
"Nothing permanent, just a little this and that." She grinned at the artist.
"Looks good, kid. Back in the chair." Xander resumed his seat as Ben pulled on another set of latex gloves. There were significantly more people now, both in the shop and on the streets. Xander was distracted by them; one trio of college girls was trying to flirt with him over the counter while Ben started on the second tattoo. Ben just smirked as Xander tried to weasel his way out of a night on the town. This session took a bit longer than the first, but between the flirting and the people watching, Xander didn't notice.
"Uh, Ben? I just saw the entire cast of The Rocky Horror Picture Show walk by."
"Oh, that? Ah, everyday stuff. Stick around; they'll be back through later on. Good crowd, kinda tame, though." Xander's eyebrows approached his hairline at that comment.
< Tame? That's tame? There was a guy in fishnet stockings and a thong! Tame, my ass! >
Ben nudged him in the back. "Take a look, kid. You've been zoned for an hour." Xander shook his head to clear himself, and then looked in the mirror. This one was perfect, too, and he said as much to Ben.
"Thanks, man. These are great. Wow." Xander let Ben cover the tattoo with a bandage, then pulled on his shirt. He went over to the counter to settle up, handing over a credit card and taking great pains to not look at the total. He didn't want to know how much two moderately sized tattoos and three piercings cost. He'd deal with it in Sunnydale when the bill came. < Not like they can repossess them or something. I mean, what are they going to do? Peel off my skin? Hack off my ears? > He signed the slip, making sure to leave generous tips for both Dink and Ben.
"Thanks, Ben, Dink." Xander waved at the pair, who was already waiting on more customers.
Xander headed out onto the streets, thankful that the girls from earlier had given up on him. He had tonight and tomorrow left in the city, and he'd rather not spend it around ditzy women. < Been around one too many of them. More trouble than their worth. > Xander headed toward a promising-looking bar.
.......
The next morning found Xander on his back in the hotel bed. His arms itched, his ears itched, and one of his breasts had a dull ache. He stumbled into the bathroom, in a scene reminiscent of the morning before. < But I didn't drink last night.for some reason. > He looked in the mirror-and saw the earrings. And the nipple ring. And the tattoos.
"Oh, fuck."
He closed his eyes, and then opened them again. Nothing changed.
"Twilight Zone. I'm in the fucking Twilight Zone." Xander turned on the shower. < This isn't real. I'm going to wake up now. Please, body, wake up. This isn't funny. > Another voice popped into his mind. < Fuck yeah, it is funny! Hey, it was a good idea yesterday, so live with it. You look good. You kick ass and take names. > < Who the hell are you? > Xander asked himself, but the voice was gone.
Shaking off the last vestiges of sleep, Xander finished his shower and got dressed. He looked in the mirror. The earrings did look pretty cool. He pulled up the sleeves on his shirt. The bandages obscured the designs, but he remembered them now. They were good, too. < Well, my image has definitely changed. Yup. > He grinned at his reflection, the seed of an idea quickly taking root. < You know, if I'm going to do something as irresponsible as talk myself into tattoos and piercings, I might as well go all the way. > He grabbed his wallet and jacket and headed out the door, whistling.
Xander walked down the street, a different one from the two nights before. It didn't take long to find what he was looking for. Cool air washed over him as he opened the door to the hair salon. He walked up to the counter.
"Can I help you?" A young woman looked up at him.
"Maybe. I need help. Desperately." Xander gestured toward his head.
"Yeah, you do." She grinned at him, and then looked at the book in front of her. She frowned and turned around. "Claire? Didn't you have a nine o'clock?"
A voice called back, "She cancelled."
"You want another one? We've got tall, dark, and handsome up here with an emergency." She winked at Xander.
A very tall woman came from the back. "Oh, sure, if that's what you're offering." The woman leered at Xander, who send back his best puppy-dog eyes.
"Hell, teach me to do that and its on the house!" The woman laughed Xander, waving him to a chair. "What do you want, dear?"
"It's up to you. I draw the line at crew cuts and hair gel. That is, I don't want a crew cut and I hate hair gel." He looked at Claire's reflection in the mirror in front of him.
"Seriously, uh-your name is?" Claire asked.
"It's Xander, and I am serious. I want to look good, no, I want to look dangerously good, and it's all up to you. I trust you." Xander turned to look straight at her. She whistled.
"Hey, you don't get that offer every day." Just then a man walked in from the same back room from which Claire had entered.
"Oooh. Lemme have him." The man ran his fingers through Xander's still-damp hair.
"Hey, the more the merrier." Xander said, winking at the man. < I'm flirting with a man. Ok, I'm flirting with a man and a woman. Hairdressers. I'm flirting with male and female hairdressers. Wait a minute, I flirted with a vampire. These guys are harmless. Its all good. > Xander shrugged and smiled at them.
"Hey, it's your head." The two stylists looked at each other silently. Xander swore he could see them talking telepathically. As one, they turned toward the back room. They disappeared briefly, only to return laden with supplies. The short, slender blonde man had a selection of bottles and tubes, while Claire had a box of what looked like scissors and razors.
"Jack, no purple. It would clash with his skin tone." Jack fake-pouted, then grinned.
"I wasn't even thinking purple. Shame on you, Claire. No trust. No faith!" He started measuring out chemicals into a plastic bowl. Clair sprayed something into Xander's hair, and then combed it out. She hummed and murmured, messing his hair this way and that. Xander just closed his eyes and settle back in the chair. He wanted to be surprised with the outcome, so no peeking. The sensation of fingers massaging his scalp was soothing, and he quickly entered a half-sleeping state. He could hear the stylists arguing over his head, but what they said never registered.
Xander didn't know how long he was out of it, but a pair of cold hands on his face brought him back to consciousness. "Ok, sleeping beauty. Time to face the music." Jack pulled off the gown Xander had on over his shirt and turned the chair to the mirror. Xander looked up.
He didn't recognize himself. The sides and back of his hair were much shorter, making his face longer and more angular. The top was also short, but not as short, leaving wavy locks to blend in with the shorter sides. His dark brown hair had been subtly highlighted in chunks; there were no striking blonde streaks, but instead lighter and darker parts here and there. It was a major change, but it worked. It was exactly what he asked for. He looked older, dangerous, and sexy. The earrings he'd gotten the night before were much more obvious now that there was no hair to hide them. His shoulders looked broader and his neck more muscular. He unconsciously sat up straighter.
"So it will look like this after I've been in bed for twelve hours after a night crawling the bars?" He said with his most sincere expression.
"Gah! We aren't miracle workers!" Claire scowled at him. "Oh, there's gel in it now."
"I said no gel!" Xander frowned at the pair.
"I know, but this is so easy. Look, you only need a dab-" Claire opened a tube and showed Xander just how much to use. "Just rub it on your fingers like so, and then into your hair when it's wet. No blow dryer, no fuss. This stuff won't leave your hair stiff and funky." She handed Xander the tube. He looked at it for a moment, and then relented.
"Ok. But if I get glued to the bathroom walls, I'm coming back down here for your asses." He glared at Jack and Claire.
"Fine by me, Xander." Jack winked at Xander. To both of their surprise, Xander smirked and winked back.
"But you really need to do something about those clothes. They're so.bowling alley-Archie Bunker!" Jack wrinkled his nose as Clair nodded vigorously.
"I know, it's next on my list. Don't ask-I've had a bad year or ten." Xander took out his wallet, paying the stylists.
"Stop back by in a couple of weeks. It won't stay that way on its own, you know!" Claire called out as he exited.
Xander shook his head. It felt different, but it was a good-different. As for the clothes, he'd passed some shops while looking for the hair place, so he knew just what he wanted.
The gang thought he had no taste in clothes, and he couldn't blame them. He'd been wearing loud, floppy shirts and shapeless pants for as long as he could remember. They thought that he just couldn't tell that the look was awful.
Xander knew he looked like an overgrown middle schooler. He just didn't care. Dressed like that, no one took him too seriously or expected him to be anything. It was usually comforting. It was his camouflage. Sure, sometimes he'd like nothing more than for his friends to realize that he was more than just doughnut boy, but for the most part, he didn't mind.
Well, he used to not mind. Having decided that between Buffy's recent behavior and Willow's gradual distancing of herself that his two best friends no longer needed the Zeppo, Xander decided to let the rest of himself out to play. Hence the new look. He wasn't hiding himself or reinventing himself; for the first time he was actually being himself, the Xander who could speak, read and write in twelve demonic languages, avidly followed popular music of the nonhuman sort, and actually had an opinion on current events. A small part of his mind worried that his friends might react poorly to him being anything other than stupid-Xander, but only a small part. The rest of him was having a ball.
Xander pulled up abruptly at the first shop. It had caught his eye because of a leather jacket in the window. He went inside, searching for more of them. A short time later, he left again, carrying a garment bag containing a hip length leather coat in the most supple, butter-soft black leather he'd ever felt. It fit like it was tailor made for him, and after checking it out thoroughly, he was sure he'd be able to attach stake loops and the like with no problems. It had numerous inside pockets, making up for being deceptively plain on the outside. It cut a striking picture.
Xander stopped next at a men's wear store down the street. He tried on various shirts, pants, slacks and dress clothes, piling piece after piece on the harried clerk. Xander wasn't worried about the cost; he was paid well and had not spent much money the last several months other than bills. His entire trip, shopping included, wouldn't make a dent in his savings.
Xander left that store, and entered and left the next one, increasingly laden with bags and boxes. After a few more stores, he gave up and went back to the hotel, ordering room service from the desk on the way up. He would've gone out for dinner but the shopping had worn him out. Not that he'd ever mention that to the girls. Men never wore themselves out clothes shopping!
After dinner, Xander unpacked his purchases for inventory. Besides the leather jacket, Xander had gotten a many form fitting pullover shirts with long and short sleeves. Most were silk, some were cotton. He arrayed them on the bed.
Instead of his usual tacky prints, these shirts were in solid, dark jewel tones, as well as several shades of gray, black and even white. The pants he'd gotten to go with them were much shapelier than his regular garb; the strong lines of his legs were no longer hidden under acres of fabric. Xander pulled out the more formal dress shirts he'd picked out-all in silk or linen, also in dark, solid colors. His new dress slacks were charcoal gray and black, and like all his new clothes, fit him perfectly. He finished off his new wardrobe with several belts and some new shoes, which were actually needed replacements. Sighing, he folded everything back up and laid down for a nap. He had to get up early to drive home tomorrow. < Time to face the firing squad, Xan-man. >
"I look out my window and I watch the cars. I fear I may do some damage one fine day. But I would not be convicted by a jury of my peers."15 Xander laughed as he drifted off to sleep. Yup, seeing the gang again was going to be a trip.a long, strange trip.
.......
Spike flipped through the cable channels, snarling. He couldn't find anything on television. That wasn't what had him so annoyed, though. Xander told him he'd be back fairly early Sunday, and here it was nearly four in the afternoon, and still no sign of the whelp. The vampire was mad at the boy for not being here, and even angrier at himself for caring.
Spike had accepted that he wanted the mortal and that he did not want to hurt him, but was still coming to terms about really caring about him. The vampire had given his heart away before, only to have it ripped out and stomped flat. He was perilously close to losing it again, and he hadn't even bedded the human.
Snarling, he shut off the tv set and strode into the bathroom. If Xander was not going to come home, Spike would just continue to take advantage of his absence and use the facilities. The vampire ran a tub full of hot, foamy bubbles and settled in for an extended soak. The radiant heat calmed the irritated demon and by the time water cooled and he had exited the bath his mood was slightly better. As he was toweling his hair, Spike heard a scraping at the front door. He quickly discarded the towel and ran into the living room.
Xander fumbled with the keys, trying to find the one for the deadbolt. < Since when did Spike throw the deadbolt? > Finding the right one, he unlocked the door and turned the knob, only to find the chain across the threshold. "Spike! Get over here and let me in my apartment, you undead creep!" Xander shouted through the small opening.
Spike reached for the chain. He'd taken Xander at his word about the apartment and had kept the place sealed up tight in his absence. Besides, he did not want to wake up to find the Slayer standing over him one morning. Having released the chain, Spike opened the door fully to let the mortal in. He froze in the process once he looked up at Xander.
Xander heard Spike removing the safety chain. As the door opened, he started moving into the apartment. The door stopped its motion only partway open. An obviously freshly showered Spike was standing there with the door in his hand, an expression of complete shock on his face. < Huh? > Xander had rarely seen Spike look anything but bored or angry. Then it hit him. In his annoyance over being unable to get into his own home, Xander had forgotten that he looked.a bit different than he had when he left. < This should be good.At least he noticed! >
"Um, hi, Spike. Miss me?" Xander casually said, pulling the door from the still motionless vampire's hands and closing it. He tossed his keys up in the air, then caught them. Spike was still staring, although his mouth was now closed.
< Bloody hell. Bloody fucking hell. > Who was this person with Xander's voice, his eyes, his mouth? The resemblance was obvious, but still. Spike's brain wrapped itself around the idea that this person was in fact Xander. Shaking his head, he looked back at the human, taking stock of the startling changes.
The mortal in front of him looked devastatingly sexy. His hair was shorter, beautifully styled, bringing out the dark red highlights in his eyes. The shorter cut exposed elegantly carved ears-pierced ears. A single heavy loop graced each soft lobe.
Looking down further, Spike took in the other obvious changes. Xander had apparently gone shopping. The vampire wondered who had selected the clothing. His shirt was a form-fitting long-sleeved knit in a wine red the color of vein blood. Tight black trousers left little to the imagination. < Oh gods of construction work, whoever you are, thank you! > Spike prayed silently. Xander's job seemed to come with added benefits. The body revealed by these new clothes was graced with tight, toned muscle. The vampire's eyes roamed up and down the form in front of him. San Francisco must have been some experience, to have caused such changes.
Xander looked at Spike, a smirk not unlike the vampire's on his face. After a moment, Spike found his voice. "So, pet, how's the city?"
"Heaven! Four days and not one vampire or demon." Xander deliberately misunderstood Spike's question. The vampire grinned. He could play this.
"Good to hear it, luv. Wills called; meeting tonight. Wants you to attend." Spike sauntered into the kitchen, reaching into the icebox for some blood. His eyes never left the boy's, no-man's, body.
< Bloody hell. Fuckin' pricktease. > Xander was leaned against the bar, pushing his chest forward. An irregularity on the front of Xander's shirt caught Spike's eye. Taking a surreptitiously closer look, Spike's jaw nearly dropped. There on Xander's chest was a circular outline. < My, my, my. Didn't think he had it in him. > The vampire wondered what else Xander had done on vacation, as if the piercings and clothes weren't enough.
"Ah, back to the daily grind." Xander saw Spike staring at his chest. Yeah, this was going to be fun. Spike had been flirting with Xander for a while now, and this turn of events couldn't have pleased the mortal more. He liked being able to disrupt the vampire's ultra-cool front. Spending a few days in the much freer, more open atmosphere of San Francisco had served to relax many of the human's inhibitions.
While on vacation, Xander had thought about things; his relationships, Spike, his future. He did not know exactly what was going on with the vampire. Xander did know that he was attracted to the blonde, something which no longer bothered him. All throughout his adolescence, Xander had considered himself a flaming heterosexual-after all, he'd pursued the most beautiful women he could find with a passion. But he also knew just how well that worked out. At first, he had been freaked out over what he felt for Spike. Then he thought about it. First off, it was not so much that Spike was a guy. Actually, Xander was more surprised that Spike's vampiric nature didn't bother him than the fact that Spike was male. He'd never paid much attention to men, other than the Larry thing.
Most of Xander's apprehensions still lay with his heart. He never did well in casual relationships; love was an all-or-nothing thing for the mortal. He did not want to fall for Spike only to have the self-proclaimed Big Bad use it against him. He could well imagine the blonde ruining his life by tattling to his friends. For now, however, Xander was going to have fun unsettling Spike. < Who knows. >
"Well, I've gotta get my stuff out of the car." Xander shoved off the bar and ran down the stairs. Spike returned to the bathroom and cemented his platinum hair into place, then returned to the main room and sat back on a barstool, sipping his blood.
< Well, this certainly changes things. > The vampire began altering his seduction plans. It appeared that the human might need a little less.tenderizing.than he had originally anticipated.
Spike's eyes widened when he saw Xander struggle back into the apartment. He jumped up, relieving the man of some of the bags he was juggling. Grunting, Xander jerked his head toward the bedroom. Spike followed, his curiosity piqued by the sheer quantity of baggage the human had acquired.
Xander turned toward the vampire, grinning sheepishly. "I, uh, did some shopping. Don't tell the girls, they'll never let me live it down."
"Hate to break it to you, luv, but they're gonna notice." Spike nodded toward both the bags and Xander's person. "They're not blind."
Xander ran a nervous hand over his hair, catching an ear on the way back down. He laughed shortly. "Ya think? They're gonna shit. At least, I hope they do."
That earned a chuckle from the vampire. He'd figured that shock value was at least part of why Xander had done this. "So, luv. Why the makeover?" Spike moved to the bed, poking around in the various bags.
Xander joined him in digging though his purchases. "I was tired of being the Zeppo. I mean, I'll always be the nobody, the world's clumsiest doughnut boy, but I was tired of looking the part." He stopped pulling out new clothes and moved over to his closet, silently thankful it was a large, walk-in model. Opening it, he shoved clothes out of the way and picked up a large stack of unused hangers.
Spike raised an eyebrow at the boy's comments. Xander still had self-confidence issues, no doubt about it, but this little maneuver showed some backbone. The vampire knew that the surface changes the mortal had enacted would probably be reflected in his attitude, given time. Instead of commenting, he started putting new clothes on the hangers Xander had gathered.
Xander watched the vampire, surprised that the demon was joining him in such a mundane housekeeping chore. He shrugged; there was no way to read the vampire sometimes-it was better to just play along.
"Nice, mate. Y' do this yourself?" Spike was fingering a dark gray silk shirt. Xander snorted.
"What, I can't have any taste?" Spike looked at the current contents of the closet. Xander followed his gaze and blushed. "Well, they worked for me. Used to work for me." He returned to hanging up clothes.
The two men continued to work in silence. Spike used the time to catalogue all of the human's new wardrobe. Needless to say, he was impressed. If Xander had, in fact, chosen all of it himself, he had been underestimating the lad. Finally, all but one hanging bag was empty. Xander picked that one up, using obvious care.
"What's that one, pet?" Moving closer, Spike picked up the scent of leather. With a shy grin, Xander peeled back the dark plastic. Lifting a pale hand, Spike ran his fingers down the butter-soft leather. "Nice. Very nice." Nice was an understatement. The coat was sleek and sharp. The vampire imagined it on Xander's muscular frame. It was a pleasant picture, to say the least.
Xander took the jacket off the hanger and laid it on the bed. Spike picked it up, inspecting it carefully. He smirked at the inside. Xander had already sewn in additions necessary to make the jacket functional for Sunnydale nightlife: pockets and loops to carry weaponry.
*****