17/41
Author: BmblBee
Paring: S/X
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: The Bee owns none of the characters or products named and
makes no money off anything. Sad state of affairs.
Warnings: Bad language, strong sexual content between M/M.
Second warning: Although I did do a lot of research, this story is not intended to
be an exact historical account so please don't scream and pounce on a detail or
two that may not be entirely accurate.
Credit: The snippets at the tops of the pages are from a web site entitled "Titanic,
A Time Line of Events". Earl Chapman on the Titanic Discussion List originally
published this chronology of events. Chapman modified it slightly in 1997. The
1997 version formed the basis of this timeline.
Summary: AU. It is the spring of 1912 and Xander Harris, who has been living
with relatives in Ireland, is heading home. As a gift of love, he was booked
passage on the maiden voyage of the Titanic with the promise that it will be the
adventure of a lifetime.
Author's note: This story is NOT a retelling of any of the Titanic movies.
It is the tale of one man and one vampire forgotten by history and the destiny they
both find on this doomed crossing.
Spelling checked by the gracious Silk_Labyrinth
As always, thanks to Petxnd for the wonderful banners and the valued friendship.
"Isn't the salmon just delightful, Alexander? Harrold and I considered
having it for our wedding dinner but settled on beef steaks instead. They
are so much more, ah....how you say....elegant?"
Xander leaned forward, past the clinging Yvette to answer her older sister.
It was the first time he had given any effort to really taking a good look at her.
Dark hair, buck teeth and a left eye that seemed to be wandering off on its
own to enjoy the lovely stained glass ceiling. Xander casually wondered how
much of a loser Harrold must be to have plucked this one from the garden.
Although his upbringing had taught him to never be rude to a lady, Xander
truly couldn't give a rat's ass about the fucking fish or a slab of cow.
"Beef steak, huh? Yeah, that sounds good."
He had been sitting here, picking at the food that had lost its appeal for nearly
an hour and wondering where the hell Spike was. He had asked his tablemates
for the time so often, he was hesitant to do so again. Finally when he was about
to rush back out of concern that Spike might be waiting for him in the cabin
hallway, a voice next to his ear caught his attention.
"Xander, I need a moment of your time."
Xander jumped and spun around. His thrill at Spike's arrival was suddenly
doused at the sight of the man. He was paler than before. He looked a good
ten years older and his eyes had an odd yellow tinge that Xander hoped was
due to the sparkling chandeliers overhead. His lover looked sick. Sicker than
sick. He appeared to be on death's door. Xander failed to note the stares of alarm
from the others at his table who shared his assessment.
Quickly, Xander left his seat and stepped to the side where confidentiality of
their conversation would be assured.
"Spike. Shit. Are you sick? What's wrong?"
Spike turned his head and refused to look the boy in the eye.
"Xander, I think I left my coat in your cabin. I need it. Give me the key and
I will meet you to return it later."
Xander's hand plunged into his trouser pocket and he pulled out the small
metal key which he held close to his body.
"I'll go with you. Whatever is wrong I can......"
"NO!"
Spike grabbed Xander by the wrist. His long thin fingers were ice cold and clutched
the boy painfully in an iron grip. He leaned in so that no one else could hear.
"Just give me the fucking key! Now! Then you sit your fucking arse back
down and finish your fucking dinner!"
The man's fierce demeanor and frightening appearance caused Xander's fingers
to immediately unfurl. Wasting no time on apologies or explanations, Spike
snatched the key, leaving long red scratches on the palm of Xander's hand.
"Will I see you......?"
Xander's question died in the air as Spike turned and rushed away.
Xander was sick with confusion. He wasn't sure if he should run after him,
although his inner voices screamed at him 'DON'T DO IT!' or if he should follow
his lover's orders and sit back down. He decided on the latter since no other option
presented itself.
Trembling and wearing a mask of false calm, Xander picked up his napkin and he
sat down, placing it carefully over his left knee. The other couples at the table were
obviously concerned but hesitated to pry. Polite society avoided confrontational
interference. Yvette was apparently not part of polite society.
"Xander. What was wrong with that man? What does he want from you?
I don't like him. He frightens me. He is tres mauvais. Very bad. I don't know what
sort of business you have with him but you should stay away. When we dock in
New York, I don't want him hanging around us."
Xander turned to face her. He wanted to scream at her to shut the fuck up but
found he couldn't. The huge, vast room was closing in on him and he couldn't
conjure up enough oxygen to breathe let alone vent his fury and fear. He needed
to escape. He needed to get out. Now!
With as much dignity as he could muster, Xander stood and slammed his napkin
down on his plate as a shudder ran from his head to his toes.
"My friend is very sick. Is there a French translation for the word 'compassion',
Yvette?"
Then he walked away on shaky legs, dismissing the sound of Yvette's gasp and
fluttery explanations as well as her cooing sister's reassurances.
Spike stayed to the darkest spot under the overhang of the storage cabinet. He
wrapped the security of concealment tightly around himself. The long black coat
effectively covered the white of his shirt and the pale glow of his exposed skin.
The matching dark hat covered his white blond hair and rendered him all but
invisible.
The young woman he had selected earlier failed to show and now he was nearly
starved. He was enraged that she had the nerve to stand him up. He had lured
her with his charms and promised her a world of delights and now the bitch had
failed him. He would make her sorry. He would make her pay. But revenge
was for later. Right now he needed blood!
Even in life, Spike had a rampant metabolism and it was a curse he carried into
death. Although some vampires could go days on the blood of a single victim,
Spike needed nourishment daily to stave off the demon hunger that clawed at his
belly constantly.
Crouching in the utility area, Spike knew that sooner or later one of the lesser
crew members would arrive in search of some random cleaning supply or
tool for a mechanical mishap. It was risky. Killing and eating a crew member that
would be quickly missed was a gamble he had not intended to take, but drastic
situations require drastic solutions.
"Here comes my baby, here comes my gal......"
Spike's body stiffened when he heard the happy whistle/singing approach. His
human face slipped away, replaced by the fangs, claws and distorted features of his
true demon. He closed his eyes to prevent the yellow glow from being seen too
soon and he followed the man's movement with his hearing. The second the man
reached up to open the cupboard door, Spike pounced.
With one clawed hand over the struggling, terrified cabin boy's mouth and the
other hand at the back of his head, Spike twisted and with one swift, sickening
snap, the boy's neck was broken and dinner was served.
When the body had been drained, Spike knew he was too far from the deck
to toss him overboard. Instead, he folded him up in a ball and shoved him into
one of the storage areas then made a hasty retreat.
The night sky was clear and cold. The clouds had parted and the moon and
stars sparkled in the blackness like diamonds. It was a poet's inspiration and a
songwriter's bread and butter.
Silently, Spike walked down the deck till he found what he was looking for.
Pausing, he stared at the back of the human that stood by the railing and he could
feel the sadness and he quickly moved alongside.
"Xander?"
Xander spun around. He wanted to be furious. He wanted to read him the riot
act, but he couldn't. The startling improvement in Spike's appearance was such a
relief that Xander forgot everything else. The man's pale sickly face was now pink
and glowed with health. When he laid a hand on Xander's arm, his fingers felt warm
and soft and his eyes were again crystal clear, blue and smiling.
"Spike?"
Spike interlaced his fingers with Xander's and he tugged.
"Come on. The night is beautiful and I feel like a walk."