bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,

Count Luffton

Author: BmblBee
Paring: S/X, AU
Rating: Adult NC17 for language and M/M sexual content.
Disclaimer: The Bee owns nothing including the characters and
products named in this story.
Warnings: Sex, violence and character death. Yes, the mouse
Summary: This story is a followup to Mouse but it is not necessary
to have read it. Xander brings Spike home to kill a mouse.
The mouse escaped and Spike stayed for the fun, games
and conflicts that S/X always get up to. One night Spike
gets more than a little drunk and does something stupid.

Comments: The last few stories have been drama and trauma. I felt
we needed some lighthearted fluff, comedy and stupidity.

Thanks to: Petxnd for her preread and suggestions and to Silk Labyrinth
for her betaing of boo boos. It should be noted that if any
irregularities remain it is due to the Bee's bullheadedness.

Buffy sat perched on the headstone of one Herb Sweigheimer, beloved
husband and father, and she cracked her gum as her legs and feet swung
inches from the ground. According to Giles's instruction, she and Willow
had arrived at the graveyard approximately two hours ago to investigate
just one more oddity occurring in the land of the dead and buried.

Giles had heard the call on his police scanner of an unconscious man
found pulverized in the cemetery and, naturally, suspected it was demon
related. He immediately called the slayer away from her evening of
college homework, a mud facial and reality TV, and Buffy had phoned
Willow to tag along.

When they arrived, the ambulance was already there, and together the
two women stood, pretending to be nothing more than curious bystanders
as the paramedics patched up the injured man with the dog who never
left his side.

They were all ears as they heard the cops question him and get a convoluted
story about a monster mouse that attacked his dog. The cops quickly
changed the subject. Diversion and evidentiary avoidance are two of the
main subjects taught in the Sunnydale police academy, and the responding
patrol officers apparently excelled as they focused their attention elsewhere.

"Say. What the hell are you doing with all these copper pots in the back of
your truck?"

Big Bufford ran a broken finger gingerly over his fat swollen lip as he took
the time to consider an innocent-sounding alibi. When he felt he had a grip
on one, he sighed dramatically and slumped back against the cruiser.

"It's my job. The city hires me to come out here and collect these pots.
I take them home, clean and shine them and then bring them back in the
morning so's all the purty flowers on them graves looks good for the families.
And what thanks do I get? The shit beat outta me. That's what. Damn.
A man can't earn a law-abiding income without fearing for his very life."

The two police officers glanced back and forth between themselves. That
was a bullshit answer if they ever heard one, however what was on the other
side of the coin if they challenged it?

Sunnydale graveyards were notorious for having crap happen that they wouldn't
touch with a ten-foot blackjack. If they did a report on this, the captain would
want an investigation and, god forbid, they may actually find a monster mouse
lurking around. Stranger things have been known to happen. Besides, it was
blueberry muffin night at Starbucks and if they didn't get there soon, the hogs
from the 5th Street fire station would snatch them all up.

Officer Ted Turkay, also known as Turkey, spoke for them both.

"Yeah, OK, but I think you have collected enough so why don't you take your
dog and your pots and get the fuck outta here."

Big Bufford hocked a blood-tinged loogie and spit it on the ground, causing Turkey
to leap back with a scowl. The mauled biker and his trusty sidekick then jumped
in the old truck and threw gravel as they sped out of the graveyard with the
stolen copper pots bouncing around in the bed.

Turkey, satisfied that he had done his job, snapped shut his pocket notepad
and he signaled to his partner to hop in the cruiser. It was only then that he
noticed the two young girls hanging around.

"Hey, what are you two doing out here at this time of night?"

Buffy shrugged and put a pout on her face.

"I brought some flowers for my grandma's grave. Poor old thing just kicked
the bucket last week and we are all sloppin' in bereavement. We think it was....
um...malaria! Yeah, that was it! She croaked of the malaria. Really sad case."

Officer Turkey screwed up his face as he tried to study on the few facts his
brain contained on the subject of malaria. He thought that possibly it was one
of those social diseases. From the looks of the granddaughter, it wasn't out of the
question. Maybe the old bird was a bit of a snatch hag. It was an ugly mental
picture that formed in his head. One of a wrinkled old woman with her legs
in the air and squealing like a porker.

"Yeah, well, it's late. You two shouldn't be out here this time of night."

With no more thought to the girls and their skanky relatives, Turkey and his partner
followed the retreating paramedics down the gravel path through the cemetery
gate, and they all disappeared into the night. When they were gone, Buffy reached
into her bra and retrieved her cell phone.

"Hi, Giles. It's me. It's Buffy Summers the slayer. Oh, yeah of course you do.
Anyway, it looks to me like a common mugging. Demon? I dunno. He kept
saying his dog was attacked by a giant mouse but....what? No, not a grouse.
How the fuck could a big could? Oh, well this was a mouse. Yeah,
like a mini-rat. Yeah? Sure. No problem."

Willow waited patiently while Buffy and Giles talked out the problem and decided
what to do. When Buffy hung up, she hopped up on Herb's headstone and Willow
followed suit.

"Giles said to hang out here and see if there are any giant mice running around. In
the meantime, he will look in his books and see if there are any demons who fit
the bill."

The girls waited and, after nearly two hours and a very boring game of 'I spy,' her
phone vibrated in her bra, which made her smile. On the fifth ring she answered.

"Hello? This is Buffy Summers the slayer speaking. Oh, hi Giles. Nope, we have
walked all over this graveyard and the whole place is dead. Hahahahahah!!!!!
What? Oh, sorry. Anyway, what do you want us to do? I really need to get
home and study. I have finals tomorrow in my bowling class and I can't keep the
fucking thing out of the gutter. Oh, yeah? Huh. OK, we can do that. Later."

Willow hopped down and waited for Buffy to give her any information Giles had
scraped up on a monster mouse.

"So what did he say?"

Buffy tucked her phone back in its hiding spot and shrugged.

"He says that I would do better if I kept my elbow straight and aimed for the ten
pin instead of watching the center of the alley."

Willow nodded. It made sense.

"Great, so we can go on home?"

Buffy grabbed Willow's hand and together they headed for the faux pearly gates.

"Not quite. Giles said there was some kind of hoopla going on down at Willy's
and he wants us to swing by there first and make sure none of the demons
are going berserk. After that, we are done."

Willow shoved the sleeves of her sweater up to her elbows and scowled slightly
as she remembered something.

"Hey, Buff. When we stopped by Xander's, did you see his arms?"

Buffy squealed in delight as she looked down and spotted a penny on the road.
And it was face up! Face down and she would never have touched it. Everyone
knew picking up a coin face down was bad luck.

"Willow! Looky here! It must be my lucky day! Slow down while I stick this
penny in my shoe. What were you saying about Xander?"

Willow watched her friend slip the coin into her left shoe before picking up the
pace again.

"His arms. He had bruises on both his wrists. I wonder what caused it?
And come to think of it, Xander's been acting kinda strange lately. You know,
secretive. You think something is going on with him?"

Buffy shrugged in disinterest.

"Nah. What could Xander possibly do that would be interesting? He probably
just got hurt at work. Isn't he delivering pizza down at Zifer's?"

Willow shook her head thoughtfully.

"No, I think he got on at that construction site."

"Well, there you go then. All kinds of potential for bruising on a menial labor job.
Come on. I'm ready to call it a night."

Buffy took off at a fast trot with Willow rushing to catch up.

Back across town, Xander was nearly crazed with worry. Where was Spike?
What was he doing? Was he coming back? Could Xander go on living if Spike
left him? Had Spike actually chosen the disgusting Luffton over him?

Xander had paced the apartment. He had muttered obscenities and whispered
prayers. He moved restlessly between a television that he wasn't watching to a
kitchen that held nothing of interest, and he would always end up at the window
that overlooked the street below. There he would stand and stare off into the
darkness, watching for any sign of movement from a man with a long black coat,
white blond hair and probably a wretched, foul mouse on his shoulder.

The one thing he was startled to realize that he wasn't missing was the company
of his friends. He honestly didn't care if they came back or not. He just
wanted his Spike. It was an epiphany! A revelation that piggybacked a
conclusion, and a commitment that left no room for indecision.

In the face of all the disapproval and the arguments his friends would issue,
Xander would choose Spike. If Spike would still have him. If Spike hadn't
come to the same decisions and chosen Luffton instead. It was a triangle sick
enough to make Jerry Springer cringe.

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