bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,
bmblbee
bmblbee
bloodclaim

5 Days More

TITLE: 5 Days More
10/46
AUTHOR: BmblBee
RATING: Adult entertainment due to m/m sexual activity
and language.
PARING: S/X
DISCLAIMER: This story is fiction. Conceived in the warped
hive of the BmblBee. She owns none of the
characters or products named and makes no money
from their use.
WARNINGS: Character death. Boys playing with boys.
Vampire/ human contact.

SUMMARY: Xander Harris is dead. Drained by a vampire in
the Longview Cemetery. When his body is discovered
his friends realize that no one has seen or heard from him
in the last five days. Willow comes up with a spell to send
someone back in time to find out how he ended up there
and possibly save his life. Spike is reluctantly recruited.




Thanks to Petxnd for the wonderful banner and patient preread.


10:00pm Monday evening
Xander Harris had 4 days left to live.

"Harris, my Boy, I'm about to teach you the fine art and skill of
demon tracking."

Xander giggled and stumbled along side the vampire he had just
spent a truly interesting day with.
After sneaking a peek at him in the shower, Xander had shared
the sofa and a long list of soaps and game shows with his unexpected
house guest. Every once in a while he would allow his knee to bump
Spike's feeling a zing in his half hard cock.

He would never admit it to his girls but he wasn't stupid, or blind,
he knew Spike was pure sex and Xander always was a purist.

They watched the same shows he had watched a million times by himself,
but with Spike they took on a whole new perspective. The snarky
vampire would guess the answers then curse the host when he was
wrong. He insulted the contestants, and their parentage, in the most
colorful descriptive terms Xander had ever heard.

He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed so hard.
It was odd because he always thought the vampire hated him. Well,
maybe hate was too strong a term. Perhaps dismissed was more
accurate.

The vampire, like most everyone else in Sunnydale, dismissed Xander
as unimportant.

Xander dismissed Xander as unimportant.

Today, however, was different. For whatever reason, Spike was
here and the two of them were together. Friends? Maybe. Maybe
not, but Xander knew one thing for sure.
He intended to make the most of it.

They had gone out as soon as the sun went down and using Xander's
last $200.00, had headed straight for Willy's to conduct what Spike
referred to as prospective high finance. Xander had contented himself
with several bottles of Willy's finest piss water while he waited.

By 9:00 pm, Xander was having the time of his life. He had won $50.00
shooting craps with a pair of Dicling demons, line danced to Brad Paisley's
latest on an antiquated juke box and just barley escaped with his virtue
intact after a tussle with a six armed Horneytoad.

Luckily, Spike had come from the back room at exactly THAT crucial
moment and snatched him out from under the demons fleshy, tubular
body, much to the jeers and cheers of the betting audience.

Although he didn't ask, Xander was fairly certain that Spike had gotten
the economic answer he was looking for. The vampire's mood was
elated and jubilant as he pulled the tipsy human out into the night.

Spike had dragged him at an ungainly pace, to the Restful Home
cemetery at the southern edge of town. He had said it would be a
great place to start.

"So tell me, Oh Great One, what exactly is the difference between
tracking demons and hunting them?"

Spike gave the boy a slight shove with his hand and watched as he
tripped, stumbled and finally landed smack down on his ass in the
cool, damp, nicely manicured grass of the cities newest grave yard.

When he satisfied himself that he now had the boy's apt attention, Spike
clasped his hands behind his back and began thoughtfully pacing back
and forth. A move that threatened to increase the uncomfortable
spinning the earth under Xander's body was already starting to do.

"Tracking is much more skilled than hunting. The Slayer will simply
charge out here and start killing everything that walks on more
than two legs, has horns or scales. It's a very indiscriminate and
ineffectual method that wastes time slaughtering innocent demons
while allowing the deadly ones to escape unnoticed."

Xander was fascinated. He had never seen such a large patch of clover
and wondered what the mathematical odds were that he could find at
least one four leaf in such a large area. Even with the full moon it was
taking a great deal of concentration to separate the intertwined clumps
of leaves.

"HARRIS!"

"WHAT?"

Spike crouched down in front of him and took hold of his shoulders,
shaking him roughly.

"I'm trying to teach you something here. You have to know what you
are doing if you are going to be out here at night. You need to know
what to look for and what to avoid. You can't be just runnin' about
willy nilly."

Xander snorted.
He slapped his hands over his mouth and tried his best to regain his
composure but it was just no use. The huge bark of laughter exploded,
blowing his fingers off his mouth and he rolled on his side, ignoring the
lucky charms that were being flattened beneath him.

"Ha ha ha ha. You said willy nilly. Oh my God! You actually said
willy nilly. Do you know how homoerotic that sounds. That's gay my
friend. You sounded straight up gay!"

When he realized his pun, Xander hooted even harder.
Quickly getting annoyed, Spike squatted down directly in front of the
still giggling drunken human. He gripped his shoulders and tried to
shake some sense into him.

"Stop it and listen to me, you stupid idiot. This is something you need
to know. It is something that may save your life someday..............soon."

Suddenly Xander didn't feel so good. The cheap beer had no resemblance
to an expensive martini and did not react the same to being shaken in an
enclosed container.
"Oooohhhhh, Fuck!"

Spike leaped back in time to miss the projectile vomiting that spewed
forth from the pits of Xander's stomach. He watched in dismay as the
boy's normal healthy tanned face turned an off shade of pea green and
Xander collapsed onto his side, moaning.

"Jesus, fucking Christ! How many bottles of...................."

Before he could complete that thought, Spike felt strange himself.
He was light headed and the insides of his body had the odd sensation
of being tugged to the outside of his skin. It took only seconds to realize
what was happening to him.

"What time is it? HARRIS! What time is........."

Xander used the last shred of strength he had in his body to squint at
his wrist.
"It looks like 11:00. Why?"
Before waiting for an answer, Xander passed out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~

2:00 am Tuesday morning.
Xander Harris has 4 days left to live.

"Uh, oof, ow,ow, ugh."
Spike bounced down, tumbling and striking one or more tender body
part on each step till he landed on the cement floor of the small stuffy
wine cellar.

Rushing to his side, he was gripped and lifted roughly to his feet by two
anxious, frantic females who babbled simultaneously.

"What happened?"
"Did it work? Did you see him?"
"Was he alive?"
"Did you talk to him?"

Spike slapped the grabbing hands away from him and took a moment
to compose himself. He adjusted his duster and checked his hair for
stray, wayward, strands.
He ran his hands up and down his arms, patted his cheeks and finally
slid his fingers down the snug waist band of this black jeans. Once he had
convinced himself that all was well and every body part that had travelled
with him had returned intact, he relaxed.

Walking over to the still, cold body on the wooden table, Spike looked
at the face he had just watched puke and smiled. He then spun around
and faced his inquisitors happily.

"Yep, saw him, talked to him, bugged him and spent the night. On
the couch. Strictly honorable like."

Willow was overwhelmed. and threw her arms around the vampire in
a big hug. When she stepped back, he saw the tears in her eyes and
heard the crack in her voice.

"How was he?"
Spike shrugged. "Alive."
"What happened Spike? Why did he die? Why was he out there?"

Spike looked at the two hopeful faces and knew he should end this right
here. Explain the odds of someone who spent too much time in a
grave yard coming to an untimely end. They would accept the diagnosis
of insomnia with relief and guilt free gratitude.
There would be no reason for him to return.

"Actually, I didn't find out anything. I'm going to have to go back again.
I'm not sure I can save him but I have an idea."

Spike almost felt a twinge of guilt when he saw their eyes sparkle with
hope but he ignored it and continued.

"Doesn't the watcher usually keep about a weeks worth of newspapers
before tossing them out?"

Buffy glanced up the steps and frowned.
"Yeah, I think so. Why? What the hell do you need a paper for?"

Spike held up his hand.
"Nope, not ready to discuss it yet. Besides it's just an idea and might
not work. Wouldn't want to get your hopes up. Just be a love and
run up there. I need Wednesday's and Thursday's papers. Go on
chop chop, times a wastin'"

Buffy hurried to do as she was told. When she returned, he flipped
through, tore out the sections he needed and tucked them in the inside
breast pocket of his coat. He then reached into the velvet pouch and
pulled out another marble.

"See ya shortly."

With a big grin on his face, Spike slammed the glass orb to the floor.
The women had only a fraction of a second to cover their eyes before
the blinding light exploded in the room.
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