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Come Together

Title: Come Together
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character/Pairing: Spike, Xander, pre-Spike/Xander
Rating: PG-13/T
Challenge/Prompt: slashthedrabble 447: Personal Space and fffc 17.10: Moon
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 500
Date Written: 25 May 2017
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Whedon, not the author, and are used without permission.





Xander glares up at the Vampire before him. "What are you doing here, Spike?"

"The question is what are you doing here, Harris, on a night like tonight?" Spike glances meaningfully at the full moon but knows he doesn't have to spell it out for the boy. Having one best friend as the Slayer and the other keeping guard over her Werewolf boyfriend all night long, Xander has to understand the true dangers of a full moon night on the Hellmouth.

"This is my backyard," Xander returns, growing angry, "and my personal space! Get -- " His words, hissed, until now, through clenched teeth, stop suddenly as an older man with dark hair and green eyes like his steps into the yard. Xander's eyes betray his emotions as he glances back to his parents' house, which has never been a real home to him.

"Harris! You out here, boy?" The man's red-tinted eyes travel the length of his yard as his son and the Vampire stand absolutely still. He shrugs and hits the door behind him. "Should've known you'd run off at the first chance. Can't stand to stay around yer old man and give him some relief." The older Harris keeps muttering as he ducks back inside the house and shuts the door behind him.

Something ticks in Spike's cheek as he waits to make certain the boy's father isn't returning. He remains quiet as he looks at Xander for a full minute until Xander's eyes drop from his.

"Don't say it," he mutters, eyes downcast. He starts to move away, but Spike's quiet voice stops him.

"I could kill 'em for ya, if ya want."

"What?"

Spike shrugs. "I could kill 'em for ya, if ya want."

A ghost of a smile chases across Xander's lips, making Spike's eyes widen this time. He never noticed the boy could have a . . . certain appeal until now.

"No," Xander says firmly. Spike wonders if he's trying to convince him or himself. "No, but thanks. You can go now."

Spike looks pass the tent behind which they're standing. He looks out at the Hellmouth, considering all the predators that would find the boy easy snacking while he tried to sleep safe from his father tonight. "I could," he replies casually, "or I could stay."

"I don't need a babysitter -- "

"Never said you did. I could use the company myself." Spike's eyes return to his, calm and cool. "What do ya say? The girls are busy. Why don't we have a boys' night?"

"I . . . " Xander's voice trails off as he looks forlornly down at his tent. "Thanks, Spike," he finally whispers. "I get the sleeping bag."

"Sure." Spike's agreement is ready and easy, but his dark eyes trail back to the boy's house and the true monster that lurks within it. He can't be here every night for the boy, but he's here tonight and if that monster thinks to lay even a single finger on him for the rest of the night, he'll never touch anything again.

The End

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