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Spoiler Alert: There are tidbits from past BTVS episodes and especially the Spanderverse series of stories.
Notes: Story number Twenty-One in the Spanderverse-universe, following “Spanderverse: Points of View, Four”.
Everything from the television series through the defeat of Adam also occurred as depicted, in the Spanderverse.
People’s thoughts are depicted in italics. You’ll find emphasis depicted with an underline.
WARNING: Adult language and disturbing sexual content ahead. This story starts to curve close to Dark!Fic territory in later chapters.
Ch 12 – Night Moves
Faithbot recorded Adam as he snapped the lock off of the comic book store and entered. Her audio sensors recorded no human signs of alarm and she experienced something akin to disappointment. She wanted to engage her battle programming, as a Slayer should.
When he left the comic shop carrying assorted plastic figures in their see-through boxes, she puzzled over the tactical purpose for them. Slowly she followed, always keeping exactly twenty-two feet behind to avoid the large humanoid from detecting her presence.
It was one hour and forty-five minutes later when she arrived outside the confines of a rusted out ore processing plant that appeared to have been abandoned for years, if not decades. Waiting until Adam was well inside, Faithbot scanned the interior with her audible sensing equipment and detected three human voices, all male and all sounding young. She tensed for action, but instead of hearing sounds of fright it seemed that the young men were excited to have Adam in their midst. A moment later she identified a voice that rung her deep internal programming that Willow hadn’t been able to completely erase: she recognized Warren.
As if a remote control switch had been thrown, Faithbot found herself violating the twenty-two feet rule and marched into the facility. Her visual sensors found dim lighting at the far end of a large room filled with abandoned and rusted equipment and conveyor infrastructure.
“Intruder alert,” Adam said suddenly, interrupting the boy’s excited exclamations over the mint condition Star Wars action figures he’d delivered. His voice was flat… mechanical and without any interest.
All three humans spun toward the entrance of their secret headquarters (nicknamed ‘The Cantina’ by Andrew) and found themselves confronted with a short girl with long, brown hair and large, dark eyes. She was dressed in dark green khakis and black boots. She also wore a dark leather jacket over a black shirt.
“W-warren,” the girl questioned, sounding unsure and confused.
“April? Who is April,” Andrew asked sounding a bit peeved as he turned his attention to code named: Obi Wan.
“My name is Faith,” April responded. “And you are engaged in illegal activity utilizing a supernatural zombie. Prepare for battle.” She assumed a defensive stance, arms raised and ready.
“Oh, crap! Faith is the other Slayer,” Jonathon exclaimed. “We’re so going to get our asses kicked!”
April had a confused expression on her face, but didn’t lower her arms. When he took another step in her direction, her expression changed to a glare.
“I’m Faith, the Vampire Slayer! Surrender or get a beat down,” she nearly growled.
“Let’s sic Adam on her,” Jon suggested.
“I’ve got this under control,”
“Complying,” April stated. Almost immediately her eyes went as blank as any doll’s. Her entire posture seemed to sag and she stood stock still as
“Wow. What did you do to her,” Jonathon said.
“And how do you know this leather-wearing tramp, anyway,” Andrew asked.
“It’s not a ‘she’. Well, I mean, it is sort of a ‘she’, but she’s a robot guys. One of my robots, in fact. I just had her go into emergency stand by mode. I wasn’t sure it would work… it’s one of the quirks that never worked out well when I had her finished.”
“W-what are we going to do with her,” Jon asked.
“We should tear her to scrap before she… I don’t know… wakes up,” Andrew suggested, glaring at the robot.
“Short-round, power up my laptop,”
“What are you thinking,” Andrew asked.
“I think we’ve just found ourselves a mole inside the Scooby-gang,”
Vanessa Reston sat in a rough bar surrounded by men with too much hair and a distinct lack of social grace. It was appalling, really, but Sunnydale closed down so early on week nights that she was having trouble finding a more appropriate ‘beau’ for the night.
She sipped at her whiskey, straight, and felt an overwhelming sense of boredom with her plan. So far she’d only actually laid eyes on Spike once but she wasn’t able to confront and capture him because he was with some girl. No doubt his victim for the night though what they were doing visiting a morgue left her puzzled. Perhaps, he had already turned someone else?
If she didn’t know any better, she might think she had been jealous when she’d noticed the red-head. Of course that was ridiculous. She didn’t have any feelings for Spike; not even sire-sired love was left. She only felt a sense of disgust and a want for revenge, she was determined to believe.
So, why am I sitting here nursing another drink instead of grabbing one of these humans and going home? Why do I feel so… blue? Am I actually hurt that he hadn’t even sensed my presence?
She thought perhaps she was. Maybe. A little bit. Spike should have immediately felt her nearby as she had detected him before actually espying him. But it was obvious he hadn’t.
She sighed and ordered another from the fat, old bartender. When the fifth guy of the night tried to talk her up, she waved him away. This whole night wasn’t turning out the way she had planned it.
After downing the drink and throwing a ten on the bar’s counter, she got up and walked out ignoring the glares of the few women and the desire of the men’s stares. It turned out that she didn’t want to take a man home after all. She’d just have to grab something on the way back to the abandoned inn.
Her night seemed to turn around when she noted a preppy looking man and woman loading two girls into a mini-van. Looking around to see the street deserted, she suddenly had an inspiration. It was time to step up the pressure on her hated Sire.
She had a new plan of action in mind and approached the couple with a huge, hungry smile.
It was around when Giles went to bed, worrying over the coming Friday with Quentin. He tossed and turned for awhile before he finally got comfortable enough to drift off.
Once he’d reached a deep sleep, his eyes shot open and he got up. His eyes were strangely dark as he pulled on a new set of clothes and left his apartment.
Ripper went searching for a woman for the evening.
At the apartment, Dawn was sleeping in Anya’s room and Spike listened from the bed he shared with Xander. When he was sure that she was deeply asleep, he nodded to Xan with a smile and welcomed him into his arms.
Xander’s mouth was hot and needy against his and his large, warm hands were roaming his cool chest. He loved the heat of the contact and pulled at Xander’s shirt to get it off.
His scent filled Spike’s nostrils and added to his lust. Pulling the shirt from the human’s torso and throwing it across the tiny room, he darted his head forward under Xan’s arm and pulled in a deep breath. Sifting the scent of deodorant and discarding it, he focused his attention on the musky smell of the real Xan. Flicking out his tongue his licked and sucked at his skin, eliciting a deep moan from the young man that only made his dick harder.
Flipping him onto the mattress on his back, he covered him and began a slow and sensual grinding of their groins together as now hot hands grabbed and kneaded his ass through his too tight jeans.
“God, Xan… you feel so good! So warm,” Spike whispered into his ear.
“Spike…,” Xan panted, but couldn’t complete whatever thought he’d wanted to voice.
The vampire licked long strokes up Xander’s neck, sucking gently on the pulse point of the throat and feeling the hot, salty goodness that pumped away under the skin. Without meaning to, he shifted into vamp-face and rubbed the fangs against the tender skin.
Xan groaned as he stretched to rub his neck against the vampire’s teeth. At the same time he began to arch his back up and down, increasing the contact between their groins.
Rubbing his hands against Spike’s back, he managed to tell him to take their pants off. As he sat up to comply, Xan attacked his nipples with his own teeth.
“I love you,” he said against the pale skin.
“I know. I love you, Xander,” Spike whispered as he struggled to control himself. He wanted to tear the resistant denim from the man before him, and certainly had the strength. But he had already complained that morning about the third ripped shirt he needed to replace.
Again, they lined up their bodies so that each of their cocks was lined with one another. This time silky cool skin came into direct contact with hot and sweat-slicked causing moans of pleasure from both participants. Spike set a rapid rhythm and reveled in the sounds of Xander’s breath near his ear and the comfort he felt with his ridged brow and fangs. It made it easier and therefore more enjoyable that he didn’t need to repress his real face and in a weird way made it less likely he’d lose control.
“Spike….” Xander gasped as Spike felt his muscles tense underneath him. “Bite me…!”
“What?!” The moving of their bodies against each other came to an abrupt stop as Spike stared down into his partner’s flushed face.
“Bite me… sink your fangs in,” he moaned with frustration at the cessation of sensation.
“Don’t say that! Don’t ever invite a vampire to do that, Harris!”
Xander gazed up at the vampire and Spike tensed uncertainly. The human’s scent had just undergone a dramatic shift and left him confused of what was happening. Gone was the scent of dark chocolate, though sunshine remained. But now there was something animal in the musk, a tantalizing odor to be sure but one that put the vampire immediately on edge.
The boy’s eyes were also a weird shade. They almost gleamed in the light from the alarm clock near the bed and were more amber than Xander’s true dark brown.
Spike leapt from the bed, his erection gone and growled down at the imposter in their bed. Xander’s body shifted to sit up against the bunched pillows leaning on the wall. The cheap bed didn’t have a headboard. He lounged there, casually stroking his still quite prominent hardness.
“What’s the matter, vampire? You know you want it,” his voice said huskily.
“You ain’t Xan. Where is he,” Spike growled menacingly.
“Oh, he’s here somewhere. But he can’t give you what you want, Spike. You can’t bite a man… but a Hyena? Well… let’s see what the chip makes of that.”
“Stop it!” Spike backed away until he felt his rear bounce against their closed door. With a fierce concentration, he shifted to his human face hoping that it would help him stay in touch with the echo of William. Because the demon was clawing at his insides… he could feel the powerful temptation to claim what he really wanted.
“Stop fighting me, Spike. He’ll be fine and we’re both alike, you and I. We both like it rough.”
“That’s not the way things are with Xan and I. He’s not ready for pushing the envelope. And I’m not interested in sex with you.”
“You don’t sound very certain of that,” Hyena chuckled with her unnerving version of a cackle. “Look at you, you’re nearly shaking. Stop resisting this, Spike. We can both get what we want.”
“I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t need that.”
“But you do like it. And you can say it as many times as you want, but I can feel you holding back… you want to squeeze him; to bruise him, and yes… to bite him hard.”
“No…,” Spike shook his head, but his voice sounded weak.
“Spike, you can’t put a claim mark on him as long as he’s in charge. At least, I don’t think you’ll be able to. But with me here; I think it’ll work. You know as well as I do that the claim mark is important… both to you and to me. I want us to be owned by you and I want to own you, too.” Hyena shifted forward onto her right hand and both knees. She still sported Xander’s hardness and began lightly stroking it again with her left and savoring the slickness against the shaft of the pre-cum that dripped from it.
“Take me, Spike.”
He stood transfixed on the body of his lover and felt his resolve weakening. He didn’t know how far this could go, if he could stop. He’d never tried to consort with anyone before.
“If I start, I might not stop,” he admitted, his voice quaking in a most un-Spike way. “I could kill him,” he nearly pleaded. “I can’t take that risk!”
“I’ll stop you if I need to,” Hyena said with no doubt in her inflection.
Spike’s jaw bunched as he gritted his teeth with the effort not to give into the thing in front of him. It was hard to resist his nature, but for Xander, he’d do it. Turning away with a grimace and groan of frustration, he plowed his fist into the door, causing it to crack down its center.
Before Hyena could respond any further, he ripped the door open and rushed naked into the living room beyond. Going straight to the phone, he dialed up Buffy’s phone number.
This ends now, he thought as he stabbed a finger into the dial pad.
“We’re in trouble, Red,” he hung up and slid down the waist high wall of the kitchen counter and to the floor. Wrapping arms around the knees held against his chest, he closed his eyes and focused on breathing in and out. The sound of the useless air moving inside dead lungs became his world as he struggled to be the Spike again that the Scooby Gang needed him to be, that Xander trusted.
Mere minutes later, the mortal emerged from the bedroom in his jeans and nothing else. He glanced nervously at Anya’s room, expecting Dawn to emerge at any moment. He had heard Spike’s voice on the phone and a glance at the clock revealed to him that he’d fallen asleep as it was later than he remembered. Confused because he remembered they were having sex and he didn’t recall ‘finishing’, he stared at Spike on the floor, naked and, was he shivering?
“Spike, what are you doing,” he whispered urgently. “Dawn could come out and get an eyeful, for God’s sake!”
“Xan…,” Spike looked over and saw dark brown eyes and a very confused look. A deep breath revealed the scent of the ‘new’ Xander, with far less of the animal muskiness that had permeated the bedroom, though it never went away completely.
The mortal took a few steps in his direction, but he held up a refraining hand. “Don’t come near me! Xan… just stay there… please. Let me make sure I’m in control of myself, Luv.”
“Spike,” he said, still lost as to what was happening. He glanced at Anya’s door again, but apparently Dawn was sleeping deeply, thank goodness. “Spike, what happened? Are you alright?”
“Hyena happened, Baby. Just… stay away, okay? Red is on her way.”
Xander backed away and fell heavily onto the sofa and wondered what his alter-ego had done. Minutes later when he realized that she must have overtaken him again, this time without him even consciously loosening her mental reins, the fear came. It was obvious he’d been fooling himself… he wasn’t in as much control as he had led himself to believe.
When a bleary eyed
“Hey guys,” Dawn greeted them. “Now that you’re here, I need to try to get some more sleep. I can’t afford to skip school tomorrow. Or ever again, apparently.”
When she went to approach Spike, he leaned back in the chair with a flinch and looked away.
“It’ll be alright, Spike. Willow and Tara can fix anything,” she said. He refused to meet her eyes and she thought she might cry on his behalf if she didn’t get out of the room. They’d told her only that Xander’s hyena-spirit was still hanging around in his head and she must’ve done something to really upset them. After the initial shock, she just felt worry. She remembered the weirdness the last time that Xander had personality-issues.
“Okay… so… what’s the urgent,”
“You start Xan,” Spike said in a hushed tone. “I’m going to heat a tea pot for a cuppa. I think we could use it.”
“You better sit, girls. There’ve been some things that have been going on that you’re not aware of,” Xander sighed.
End Chapter 12