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.
Spike seemed in exceptionally good spirits and Xander was almost tempted to
ignore the ugliness of earlier. Almost. As Spike tugged him quickly across the
slippery wooden flooring on the freezing cold deck, he laughed as they slipped
and slid scrambling to keep their footing. When they reached the side of the
ship where the lifeboats were tethered, Spike snatched him close.
"Let's do it in the lifeboat. Come on, Xander. Live a little."
Despite himself, Xander had to chuckle. His companion's bubbly, effervescent
mood was infectious and for a quick blink in time he considered the outrageous
proposal. That is until a particularly cold blast of wind whipped around him, biting
his nose and causing his dick to shrink to a size that he was certain would make any
activities in the lifeboat impossible.
"No. You're crazy, do you know that?"
Spike suddenly jerked the boy by the front of his trouser belt and slammed their
"I'm crazy about you, Xander."
Xander's cold breath hitched in his chest as he stared into the incredibly blue eyes
that shone with affection and honesty. No one had ever looked at him like this
before. It was overwhelming. It was almost too much and he struggled not
to look away. On a puff of hot, foggy air, he gave his answer.
The grin on Spike's face reached to the tiny wrinkles in the corners of his eyes
and he leaned in, kissing the cold lips and letting the boy's warm breath fill his
mouth like the transfer of life itself. Then, as if he too were becoming overwhelmed
with the emotion of the moment, Spike stepped back and let the mood slip away.
"Are you a rich man, Xander?"
Xander blinked in confusion at the switch of topic.
"What? Rich? Um, no?"
"Good. That's what I thought. Come on, I think I can do something about that."
Engaging in the pointless act of wrapping his coat tightly around his perpetually
cold body, Spike again grabbed the boy by the hand and they turned and rushed
off in the night. Within minutes, they reached a section of the ship's second level
deck that catered to the businessmen traveling in limited luxury, some with their
families, some alone. But in this group of rooms, the policy was no women allowed.
They darted down the interior hallway and headed for the smoking rooms.
Xander had peeked in here during one of his hallway explorations and knew that
this was a place where older men went to discuss the stocks and bonds and the
finances of the world markets. Things he knew nothing about.
These were not the giants of industry. The railroad masters and the shipbuilders
and mine owners were all in the first class, living like royalty. No, these were
the lesser players in the stage of the world's money. Men who had smaller
playgrounds but were, in their own venues, just as important.
They were men of good whisky and fine wines. They smoked imported cigars
and read the day's newspapers. For their recreation, they talked business, they
bragged and belittled, and they played cards. Men of the world always fancied
themselves skilled at cards.
When Spike grabbed for the door handle, Xander pulled back.
"Wait, Spike, I can't go in there. That is for important men. We don't belong
Spike laughed and ran his fingers through Xander's long, shaggy hair.
"Bullshit! It's all in the attitude, Love. You can fit in anywhere you want to.
Just march right in there with your head held high. Nod a greeting to the first man
you see and gravitate to where three or more men are talking. Listen to them
for a while and when one of them says something outrageously stupid, you nod
thoughtfully and say 'Well, that is a concept I had never considered. Thank you.'
I guarantee you will be immediately accepted."
Xander chuckled and wondered if he could see himself doing anything so nervy.
It was a physical fact that he could attest to that Spike had bigger balls than
him but maybe, just maybe, he could muster up the courage. Before the agreement
to try could be voiced, the men faced another interruption.
"Alexander. Wait, Alexander."
Xander groaned and rolled his eyes. Spike quietly growled. The amusement that
was Yvette was quickly losing its charm.
"Oh, Yvette, I'm sorry but I'm busy right now. We are going in the smoking room
and, unfortunately, no women are allowed."
Yvette smiled and batted her eyes demurely.
"Oui. Yes, of course. A woman, such as I, would never understand the things that men
discuss in places such as this. I will let you go, I just wanted to apologize that we
quarrelled earlier. I think you misunderstood. I was, of course very concerned
for the health of your friend."
Yvette then turned to face Spike and the innocent sweetness in her face and
toned soured noticeably.
"But, I see that you are much improved, Monsieur, no?"
Gracefully, Spike took her small hand in his painfully cold one and he brought it
to his lips, never taking his eyes from hers.
"Vous jouez un jeu dangereux, Yvette."*
Yvette's eyes grew huge. She snatched her hand away and took a step back.
When she was able to fake some shred of composure, she gave Xander a
strained smile and hurried away, skittering like a mouse from a cat.
Xander's eyebrows shot up as he watched her go.
"What on earth did you say to her?"
Spike shrugged and appeared clearly confused by her rapid departure.
"I only thanked her for her concern for my well being. Oh well, bloody glad
to see her go. So, are you ready?"
Xander had no idea why they were here or what this had to do with Spike
talking about money, but any evening spent in the company of this crazy,
wonderful man promised to be an adventure and he was in.
The moment they stepped over the threshold, Xander's doubts resurfaced. The
room was richly appointed. Hardwoods polished to a sheen so deep you could
see your refection in them. A long bar stacked with glistening bottles of amber
liquid and rows of crystal glasses stacked up clean and ready to be filled.
The seating arrangements were cozy and intimate. Small round tables
where two or three men sat speaking in low tones, drinking and smoking.
At the far end of the room were four large tables where the conversation was
louder and more jovial as the decks were shuffled and the cards dealt.
That was the area Spike indicated with a tip of his head.
"Over there, Xan. Come on."
Xander was stunned.
"What? Spike I don't know how to........"
But his companion was already gone.
* "You are playing a dangerous game, Yvette"