bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,

5 Days More

TITLE: 5 Days More
RATING: Adult entertainment due to m/m sexual activity
and language.
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 Purpledodah for the wonderful banner.

Tuesday morning 3:00am.
Xander Harris has 4 days left to live.

Xander groaned and rolled over onto his back. His mind
and body were inhabiting that purgatory world of somewhere
between still drunk and grossly hung over. Neither one more
than the other.
Both agonizing.

He cracked one eye open and knew it was still dark out and
by the fact that his hair and clothing were cold and soaked to
the bone with dew, he was sure he was still in the graveyard.

Painfully, he lifted the fifty pound arm that laid heavily at his
side and he tried his best to focus on the watch around his wrist.
After several tries he realized the problem was that his eyes no
longer worked in congress with each other and he squeezed one shut.

Task completed, the arm fell back to the earth with a painful thud.
Slowly the memory of the previous 24 hours seeped back into his
limited functioning brain. Turning his head from side to side he
satisfied himself that he was alone and wondered for a minute if he
hadn't just dreamt the entire Spike escapade during a drunken binge.

No, the drunk alone proved that Spike had been there.
Had. As in, was now gone.
Xander sighed. If it was really 3 and he vaguely remembered telling
Spike it was 11 just before he passed out, that meant the vampire
had ditched him.
Left him alone and helpless for no less than 4 hours in a probably
demon infested cemetery.

Although it was entirely what one would expect of Spike and it was
completely in line with his personality, Xander found it overwhelmingly
depressing. Mostly because the last day had been one of the best he
could remember in a long time and, in a small way, because if the
Spike times weren't going to continue, well, he was a demon magnet.
Where were they when you needed one?

He squinted into the darkness. Nope. Nothing appeared interested
in eating a weak, helpless human. Damn.

Knowing what he had to do, Xander rolled over onto his stomach.
He screwed up what could be viewed as superhuman strength and
endurance and he pushed himself to his knees.

After determining that it would be generally too time consuming
to make the entire trip home on his hands and knees, Xander
gripped the headstone of one Rose Thornwood, and heaved himself
to his feet.

Luckily, Rose had no complaint about his sitting there for a minute
or two to rest so he took five. He then staggered upright and started
the long, horrendous trek home.

"Hey, where you been? We must have gotten separated in the
grave yard when I went after that fledge. I came back here and been
waitin' for you ever since."

Xander again closed one eye, just to make sure he was really seeing
what he thought he was. Yep, there sat Spike, big as life on the steps
leading down to his basement apartment.

"What? What fledge?"
Xander gripped the cement ledge that ran the perimeter of the building
and leaned forward hoping he wasn't about to vomit again.
Spike immediately jumped up and rushed to his side putting his
arm around Xander's waist and encouraging him to lean back
and allow the vampire to lead him down the steps.

"Come on, Buddy. Wow you really can't hold your beer at all can you?"

Xander's head lolled back onto Spike's shoulder and he belched.
Spike visibly cringed at the foul smelling puff of air that assaulted his nose.
When they reached the bottom, Xander fumbled about in his pockets
unable to locate the golden key that will allow him to die in the privacy of
his own home.

"Here, let me."
Spike shifted the weight of the boy's body to his other arm and he fished
about in Xander's pants till he found what he was looking for.

"Well now, seems like you got plenty to be proud of there."
Spike laughed as he unlocked the door and carried his patient inside.

"Huh? My key? Proud of my key? Huh?"
Xander gave his last effort toward understanding before he and Spike
reached the bed where he relinquished all intelligent thought and
allowed his body to go limp. Spike dropped him like a sack of potatoes.

"You're a slug, Harris."

Xander mumbled his agreement.

Spike went about the task of undressing him by starting first with the
shoes that were still caked with the dirt of the dead.

"Say, Xan, old buddy, you don't have any extra money lying around
here do you?"

"Huh? Oh, no, no money."

Spike peeled the wet t-shirt off over Xander's head and tossed it
to the floor where it landed with a plop.

"You sure? Nothing worth hocking? No rainy day cookie jar?"

Xander allowed himself to be flopped from side to side as his
pants were tugged down off his hips threatening to take his
boxers with them. He felt just slightly obligated to answer the
nice person who was making him feel so much better.

"Rain? Cookies? No, I got that CD that my grandma gave
me when I graduated but I don't use that. I hide it in my underwear
drawer. It's for my future."

Spike looked down and grinned, thinking.
'Well that won't be a problem, now will it?'

Quickly he tossed a blanket over the sleeping boy and headed for the
worn out wooden dresser. He tisked his tongue at the sad shape
of the few pair of socks and underwear. He snickered at the
generous supply of lubrication, then wondered with a scowl,
if anyone had shared it with him.

Finally, tucked in the bottom of the drawer, he found it. $1000.00.
Spike waved it high in the air and, with great restraint, stopped himself
from whooping and shouting.

He took one last look down on the sleeping boy then dashed from the
room, the racing results in one hand and the savings bond in the other.

By 5am he was back. Everything had gone off like clockwork. The bets
had been placed, the bond traded off to a demon with banking connections
and the other arrangements handled.

Exhausted, Spike eased back into the apartment and secured the
door behind him. Slipping into the bedroom, Spike wanted to satisfy
himself that the boy hadn't wakened up while he was gone.

Spike stood by the bed and looked down on the sleeping, live, human.
He looked so different from the body that will lie in the Watchers
basement this weekend. It wasn't the fact that this Xander's chest
rose and fell with a steady rhythm or the fluttering of his eyes as they
darted about behind the closed lids.

It was more than that. It was deeper than that.
It was the spark.
Spike had seen enough people die, a lot by his own hand to know the
second a person becomes a body is when the spark goes out.
Like the flip of a switch, the spark is gone.

Xander rolled over on his side and Spike smiled. Xander was full of
more spark than anyone he had seen in a long time.

Sadly, and not taking the time to think about it, Spike undressed
and slid into the bed beside the boy. He laid there feeling the warmth
roll off his body and he listened to the steady beating of his strong
young heart.

Spike curled up and laid his head on Xander's chest where he slipped
in to a deep, untroubled sleep.
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