Title: Two Guys, a Girl and a Vampire
Pairing: Spike/Xander, Andrew, Female OC
Warnings: Marvel comics, alley clichés and not-fighting fighting.
Summary: In a post-Chosen/NFA, non-comics world, Xander and Andrew are living in New York City but can’t escape the world of vampires and slayers (not that they’re actually trying to!).
A/N: Thanks to savoytruffle for her fantastic beta! All mistakes are mine, and feel free to alert me to typos and such!
“How can you not be outraged?”
Xander shrugs. “I’m just not.”
“But everything has fallen apart!” Andrew bangs the door louder than necessary. “Iron Man’s gone evil. Captain America assassinated.” The security gate rattles when it’s forcefully slammed into place. “Why are the writers doing this to us?”
“It’s all good.” Xander claps a hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “A few years time, they’ll get new writers, Iron Man’ll be cool again and Captain America will be alive.”
Andrew wipes his nose on his sleeve. Xander watches the hot dog vendor across the street close up shop. It’s that time of day.
“It’s why comics rock.” He adjusts his eye patch and zips up his jacket. “Everything can be fixed.”
“It’s just that…” Andrew flails his arms in an inarticulate gesture, before dropping them to his side like dead weights. “With what Marvel is –”
“Time to leave work behind.” Andrew’s shoulders are slumped. It would be sad if Xander didn’t know what he’s angling for. He sighs, but it’s mostly for effect. “We could go to the Roti place you like.”
Andrew’s bouncing as if he wasn’t just lamenting comics canon like it was the fate of the world.
It’s nice not to worry about the fate of the world.
Rent and roti are good things to worry about.
Rats not so much.
But Xander’s good at ignoring rats. It helps that he mostly steers clear of alleys now.
The key word being mostly. He slams into Andrew at the mouth of an alley.
“Did you hear that?” Andrew whispers in his about-to-piss-my-pants-from-excitement-o
Xander blocks out the car horns and screeching tires and then he hears it. Fighting. And not some drunken bar brawl.
Turns out work’s not over yet.
They creep into the alley, holding their breath to block out the smell. Xander rolls his eye at the alley – such a cliché.
But some things are clichés for a reason.
Like that Xander still finds slayers hot. Especially when they’re kicking vamp ass.
He just wishes he wasn’t also checking out the vamp’s ass.
Sure, Xander has now embraced the male ass, he just hasn’t embraced the vamp ass. That way leads to scariness and death.
Xander’s still working his way up in the adventurous sex department.
He jumps back when the fighters – oblivious to their spectators – tumble closer.
And of course it has to get worse.
He knows the owner of said ass.
And the owner is way hotter than he remembered. How had he forgotten that wicked gleeful grin and the compact but well muscled frame?
Oh right, he was a raging heterosexual then, careful not to notice things like the hotness and tightness of Spike’s ass.
He stands now, the very definition of dumbfounded.
Andrew’s not having that problem. “Spike!” he admonishes, hands on hips. “Are you on red kryptonite?” Slayer and vampire stop mid-tussle and stare at Andrew. “Of the Smallville-going-bad variety, I mean.”
“Andrew.” Spike nods, then nods again. “Harris.”
The Slayer punches him in the face – hard – and he goes down.
“Hey! Whoa!” Xander unfreezes and stupidly steps toward the fray. “Let’s all take a step back.” Except for Xander, who takes another stupid step forward.
He must be getting better at his in-command voice, though, because everyone listens, even Andrew who Xander wasn’t talking to. Okay, Spike’s actually pushing himself up, but he does keep his distance from the very pissed off slayer so Xander decides that counts.
Of course now that he’s in the midst of a paused fray, Xander doesn’t know what to do next.
Fortunately Andrew’s always there in a clinch. Not so much with the doing as the talking. And talking.
“Wow, Spike, I can’t believe it’s really you. What’re you doing in New York? Well, I mean, besides fighting a slayer. She is a slayer, right?” He turns to the girl, who’s wiping her forehead on her shirt sleeve, her eyes fixed on Spike. “You are a slayer, right?” She shrugs, looking bewildered and possibly overwhelmed. “Slay-er,” Andrew repeats slowly. He mimes shoving a stake chestward. “Kill-er of vam-pyres.”
“Hey,” Spike grumbles. “Don’t give her any ideas.
“Protector of innocents,” Andrew amends. “Saver of worlds.” The girl in question continues to blink at him. “Okay, slayer status undetermined.” Andrew clears his throat. “Anyway, obviously, you wouldn’t come all the way to New York to fight a – oh, well, there was that one time, but that was before you fought for and won back your immortal soul, and it didn’t come with a clause so there’s no way you could have – ” Andrew trails off, clearing his throat again. “Well, er, perhaps you could clarify, just in brief: why exactly were you fighting a potential, er, um, confusing word choice, possible slayer?”
Spike sighs, that why-does-everyone-assume-I’m-doing-somet
“Ahh.” Xander nods. “The not-fighting fighting, riiight. See it all the time.”
“You do?” Andrew’s eyebrows jump high on his forehead.
Xander shakes his head. “Andrew, you’re with me all the time. Have you seen any not-fighting fighting?”
Spike lets out a short laugh. “I knew you crazy kids would finally make it work.”
The girl sighs (Xander really should get her name) and starts talking – in perfectly clear English with a slight Queens accent – to no one in particular. “Damn it, all the cute ones really are gay. I think it’s time to try out the girl thing, lots of cute girls out there.”
“’M not gay, pet.” Trust Spike to hit on the girl he’d just been fighting with.
Come to think of it, it really is exactly Spike’s MO. So no sarcasm necessary.
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, definitely trying the gay thing.”
“Hey!” Xander waves his hand between them, time to get things back on track. “Andrew and I aren’t gay –” Andrew coughs. “–for each other. And sometimes we’re not even gay at –”Another cough. “Sometimes I’m not gay at all.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake...” She looks at each one of them and crosses her arms. “Besides extremely gay, who the hell are you people? Especially this one.” She points at Spike. “He creeps me the fuck out.”
“Don’t worry,” Xander assures her. “He grows on you.”
Andrew clears his throat. “I believe the young woman is correct, introductions are in order.” He straightens his shoulders. “I am Andrew Wells, Junior Associate Consultant to the Slayer-Watchers Council and Comic Book Store Operator.”
Xander snorts and scratches where his eye patch meets his hair line. “Ignore him. We don’t actually have fancy titles. We just help out Giles and Willow with research and try to fight the occasional demon without getting killed. And work in – not operate – a comic book store. Not exactly your glamorous double agent kind of life.”
He’s done clarifying but the girl still looks confused. He’s guessing she doesn’t want to hear about his comic collection or the apartment that he and Andrew share that’s way too small for two people who aren’t sleeping together.
Spike snorts. “She doesn’t know who you’re talking about, git. And you didn’t tell her your name.”
Oh right, that.
“Xander,” he says. “Is me.” He reaches a hand out and is amazed when she takes it. She grips his hand too tight, but it’s progress. “I mean, I’m Xander Harris and that’s Spike. He’s...”
“A vampyre,” Andrew interjects, “but a good one. A noble one, in fact. A vampyre with a soul. He who walks the world alone searching for truth and meaning, helping the –”
It’s a growl and although Xander doubts Spike will actually attack Andrew – well, he’s mostly sure about that – it shuts him up.
Maybe Xander should work on his growl.
But he’s not sure what he’d do without the non-stop talk.
Xander appreciates a good babble.
He resituates himself, blocking Andrew from Spike’s line of vision and turning back to the girl. “And you are?”
“Yvonne Ng. I drive a cab, help out sometimes at the family restaurant...and have no idea why I’m telling you any of this. You should be doing the explaining. Like what you mean by ‘demons’ and ‘vampires’ and what the hell’s up with this Spike guy.”
This time Spike takes matters into his own hands. “Like the kid said, I’m a vamp. Just no longer evil.” He lights a cigarette. “Still a bad ass though.”
Xander rolls his eyes. Andrew gives a small appreciative sigh.
Yvonne narrows her eyes and just stares at Spike for a good long few seconds.
“Right. It’s time for a drink,” she declares and nods to flicking lights spelling ‘ar’ at the end of the alley. “One of you better be buying.”
Xander grins. He’s missed demanding women.
Spike claps a hand on Xander’s shoulder. “That’d be Harris.”
He’s not sure how he feels about freeloading men, but it doesn’t stop him from following Spike into the bar.
Two guys, a girl and a vampire walk into a bar.
It’s like the beginning of a joke that Xander hasn’t learned the punch line to yet.
As long as it doesn’t end with ‘and into their horrible gruesome death,’ though, he can hear it out.