fic post

Mar. 21st, 2005 07:07 pm
aimeelicious: (Default)
[personal profile] aimeelicious
I owe [livejournal.com profile] dancetomato fic for writing me a bio. She requested make-up (not eyeliner, fighting) Spander. I'm quite certain this is not as angsty OR as porny as she wanted, but the muse goes where she wills and if I try to wrestle her for control she runs away. So here it is. More than a drabble, less than a full-blown fic.

Title: Patsy Cline vs. The Clash
Author: aimeelicious
Pairing: S/X
Rating: 17+ for an eensy bit of sex at the end
Warnings: none
Spoilers: none; set in a nebulous post-series time frame

Spike was mad at him this time, really mad, and Xander didn't have the slightest idea how to fix it. Several days of O-negative in bed, free rein with the remote and no early morning alarms going off hadn't made much of a dent in Spike's stoic behavior. He was beginning to worry that something was seriously going to go wrong, like Spike maybe leaving, and it scared him. So Xander did what he always did when he was afraid and had no clue--he called Willow.

As the phone rang across the world, he allowed as to how it was nice that they'd gotten to be such good friends again, after everything went so Hellmouthy-bad for a while. Xander was happy to have his best girl around. Or, around in the sense that she was alive and they talked, because she wasn't really around, more like in England. Not that they didn't visit and see each other in person sometimes, the Council was pretty good about airfare and...it was a relief when she finally picked up, what with his brain going a hundred miles an hour. Being upset about Spike being upset was exhausting.

"Hey Xander!", came the bright voice on the other end of the line. "How's Spike?"

"He's fine," said Xander automatically. Then he winced. "Well, not so much, actually. And I'm fine too, thanks for asking," he continued somewhat sarcastically. Sigh. Why everyone now adored his vampire boyfriend was beyond him. Xander had started the trend, dammit, and the rest of them were just hangers-on. Except for Buffy, who was a true pioneer in the field, but he was not going to think about that.

"You know the protection spell tells me if something's up, and it says you're all good," said Willow. "Which means you must be calling about your better half. Go on, spill, what did he do now?" she asked, with an obvious tone of indulgence.

"Uh, it's not really anything that he did. More like I did something. And um, now he's mad. Like, really mad and I have to make it better because I hate when he's all quiet and broody like Angel. Brings back bad memories. So, any ideas?" He gave a weak laugh, but unfortunately Willow did not fall for his distraction ploy.

"Well, what did you do, Xander, to upset him like that?"

"Um...IaccidentallysteppedonhisautographedLondonCallingrecordandbrokeitintolittlepieces." He knew Willow would suss out the mumble if he waited a second, and he was not wrong.

"What?"

Xander cringed at the shriek coming through the receiver.

"That was one of the few things he still owned, and it's irreplaceable!" said Willow loudly, pointing out the obvious.

"I know, which is why he's mad and I feel terrible and I want to fix it, so what do I do?" Xander replied, feeling a bit testy. He just wanted to turn back time and stop himself from tripping over the damn cat...Spike's cat, but still, the broken record was his fault, not the furball's. And barring said time travel, he wanted Willow to mojo it all right again.

"You can't get him another one, so...I could maybe magic the pieces back together if you send them to me," she muttered, thinking out loud. "No promises it will play anymore, but at least he could still look at the signatures." Xander could almost hear her shrug. "I'm good, but I don't work miracles." He felt like he should mention that this was actually not quite true, but was clearly in no position to argue.

"That's a great offer Wills, and I'll definitely take you up on it, but in the meantime, any suggestions on how to pave my way back into his good graces?" He hesitated, before saying quietly, "We've fought before, but Spike's never been this angry with me."

"I'm not sure, Xander" Willow said slowly. "I've seen him pissed off, but never broody. I don't think there's much you can do besides apologize, and make sure he knows you love him."

So much for the brilliant plan to have her chant it better.

They talked for a few more minutes, catching up on Willow's love life and her work with the Council, then said their goodbyes and hung up. Xander hadn't held out much hope, but he knew for certain now that the record would never be the same, and maybe he'd just have to give Spike some time to deal. Losing a precious belonging sucks for anyone, but he knew that for Spike, who had so few things to begin with, it was especially hard. Xander sighed, this time out loud, and was startled when he heard Spike follow it with one of his own. Must have snuck in while he was on the phone.

"I know you didn't mean to break it."

Xander turned and looked at Spike, who was standing in the doorway, and he felt his heart flutter like it did every time he saw that face. "I really didn't, Spike, and I feel awful that I'm so clumsy, I should have been paying more attention to Argyle and then it never would have happened. I just got off the phone with Willow and she says if I send her the pieces she can try to put it kind of back together but it probably won't play right anymore." He stopped to take a breath and was interrupted.

"Heard the whole conversation, love. Nice to know the witch wants to help." Spike walked into the room and sat next to Xander on the couch. "First off, 'm sorry I've been so quiet, but don't ever compare me to Angel again," he said emphatically, making a face. "Second, you're worth a thousand of those records. Just took me a little while to let it go, that's all. Been with me for the last twenty-two years, that thing, seen me through some tough times."

"Kind of like my Patsy Cline album," Xander jumped in, feeling wonder and relief at Spike's words, as well as an urge to derail the upcoming sappy moment he could tell they were both dreading.

"You're comparin' The Clash to Pasty Cline?" Spike wondered aloud. "I will never understand why I love you."

Xander thwapped him on the head with a throw pillow. "Yeah well, I don't understand why I love you either. Just do, and I really am sorry about the record," he said, wanting to be sure Spike knew how badly he felt. Suddenly, cool fingers were holding his face and Spike was very, very close.

"Forgiven." A quick kiss and the hands dropped. "Now how about you start making it up to me with a blow job," Spike said, leering at Xander and waggling his eyebrows. The sappy moment had been successfully averted, and Xander was never one to turn down a chance to taste that luscious cock. Dropping to his knees, he grinned up at Spike while undoing the tight jeans in front of him.

"Do you think maybe I could accidentally break that Sex Pistols album too? I really don't like it."

"Don't push your luck," came the growled response, which ended in a moan as Xander swallowed Spike down with no hesitation, chuckling as he did so. That soft skin tasted so good. Thank god there were lots of ways to say you were sorry--his apology was just beginning.
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