lit_gal | The Return of Elder Vamp Xander

Oh lord... someone stop me. For some reason the muse is going strong (as evidenced by the fact this is my third chapter in twenty four hours. Small problem... this isn't my Sentinel WIP, but this dark little universe is calling me.

Trickster's treat begins on that night when Ethan cursed the costumes. Except Xander didn't choose to go as a soldier, he picked the vampire cape and cheesy fake teeth and a plastic sword to bop the children they were supposed to be taking trick or treating. Things go down hill from there.

The original has some pretty strong warnings for vampire sex meaning blood, bondage, and domination.
The original: http://lit-gal.livejournal.com/tag/eldervamp+xander

And now.... the return of the Butterfly!verse with this sequel which doesn't even have a name yet.

"Angel?" Xander said softly into the phone. He really didn't need the others overhearing this conversation, so he kept his voice soft and trusted vamp hearing to carry his words.

"Xander? What's wrong?"

"What? I have to have a reason to call you and tell you that your hair looks ridiculous on a man of 250?" Xander almost heard Angel rolling his eyes over the phone.

"What's wrong?" Angel asked more firmly after a long silence with only the sound of static on the line. Xander smiled at his own ability to outwait Angel. Of course, the events of the day quickly wiped the smile from his face. Not even mind games with Angel could soften the blow he'd felt at seeing Spike, starving, pale and begging the *slayer* for help.

"It's Spike. He's been..." Xander struggled with a word that would explain his horror at what had been done to Spike. Yeah, he didn't want Spike out eating the population, but this was Spike, his Spike, the vampire with whom he shared a very strange history that only Angel understood. A strange history that Ethan's chaos spell had permanently tangled beyond recognition.

"Xander? Do you need me up there?" Angel asked, and Xander took a deep breath. No, Angel up here right now would be a very bad thing with Spike doing the whole "worthless me" act. Xander took a deep breath and tangled the curling beige cord around his finger as he tried to sort his thoughts from… well, his thoughts. Okay, that didn't sound mentally unstable… not at all. However, his vampire memories, imposed on him by that spell, suggested that Spike couldn't handle being seen as weak in Angel's eyes.

"You'd better not. We've got a government group doing some weird stuff up here," Xander finally answered. "They caught Spike and operated on him." Xander heard Angel's hiss over the phone, and he could imagine the expression on Angel's face. Even though Angel felt guilty as hell about his past with Spike, he couldn't quite let go of his desire for the younger vampire. Maybe the others didn't see that, but then the others didn't have quite the same relationship with the vampires that he did.

"Is he..."

"He can't hunt. He can't hurt people." Xander took a deep breath to try and hold off the anger rising in his stomach. "Hell, he can't protect himself from a two year old with a butter knife." Xander lashed out and punched Giles' wall hard enough that his knuckles throbbed with pain. At least this pain gave him something to focus on other than his own guilt. If he hadn't taken Spike, forced him to submit and then left him, if he hadn't caused Dru to leave Spike, if he hadn't done all that maybe Dru and Spike would still be off somewhere safe instead of Giles chaining Spike in the bathroom.

Today looked liked one of those days where he wished the spell hadn't ended and he still had that cold confidence he'd gained from being a vampire. Or maybe he just should have died that day in the mansion. Angel was obviously having problems of his own because the other end of the phone had gone silent.

"Maybe I should come up," Angel offered quietly.

"No." Xander quickly replied. "Spike doesn't need to deal with sire issues right now," Xander pointed out without acknowledging his own sire issues with Spike. "I just need to know who in town carries human blood... someone other than Willie because that little rat will sell anyone out to Buffy, including me."

"You're protecting him," Angel said warily. Not a question exactly, but Xander could still hear Angel question his sanity. "What about Buffy?"

"Spike came to Buffy, asked her for sanctuary, and Buffy won't stake him while he's helpless." Xander didn't have to tell Angel how much it ripped into him to see Spike looking for someone else's protection while Xander stood there helpless.

"Buffy's protecting him?" Angel's tone rose in shock.

"I'm not sure protecting him is the right description." Xander considered Buffy's reaction, evaluating them using his own 900 years worth of memories. "It's more like she resents someone else poaching on her private territory. Spike is her prey and she'll keep him safe until he's strong enough to be worth hunting." Xander smiled at the memory of the villagers in Nusa's territory. They had quickly learned how to hide any strength in order to avoid her interest. Hell, his too. Of course those were false memories planted by Ethan's spell, but they felt just as real now as they had years ago when the spell had first been cast.

"And what about the past. Can *you* forgive him for what he did?" Angel asked quietly.

Xander thought back to that dark day when he had been dragged to Angelus' lair. Not even Giles knew about those six hours, and Xander had no intention of telling. Hell, he didn't even plan on giving Angel the full story because he didn't need to deal with Angelus being even more hacked off if the soulless bastard ever showed up again.

"I don't have to forgive him. He's a vampire, so he does vampirey things." Xander phrased his answer to once again give Angel the reassurance he needed that Xander didn't blame him either, and Xander didn't. After all, he had attacked, captured, and raped both masters of the Aurelius line long before that day, even if it was technically a spell's fault.

"Cooper on 6th and Park." Angel said, and Xander quickly jotted it down on his palm. "They don't normally sell to humans," Angel warned him.

"Call him for me and tell him that if he doesn't sell me blood I will set his business on fire and decapitate him and his entire staff as they run for safety," Xander said before dropping the phone onto the receiver. He didn't need to hear Angel's answer since he already knew that Angel would lecture him on not letting his vampire memories control him and then do as Xander asked. Xander could do without the first, and he needed Angel to do the second immediately. Spike was thin and frail.

Xander punched the wall again just as Willow walked in the door to Giles' kitchen, jumping when Xander's fist thumped loudly against the cheap pine wood the apartment used as trim, leaving a faint knuckle sized dent.

"Xander?" she asked quietly, and Xander looked at his childhood friend's wide and worried eyes. "Is this Spike thing freaking you out what with the whole kissage incident?" she asked. Xander struggled to contain a dark laugh. Kissage. Kissage was the least of his worries, but on that Halloween night years ago, she had seen the kiss he had shared with Spike, and nothing more. Thank god for that. Xander shivered in horror at the thought that the spell could have made him kill his best friend given the chance. Thank god he didn't have that chance because that was more guilt than he could have carried.

Willow came over and put a sympathetic hand on his forearm. "Yeah, it's kinda freaky knowing there's a vampire in the house, but you know Buffy wouldn't let him hurt you, right?" Willow asked in such a serious tone that Xander felt that dark, hysterical laughter bubbling up inside.

"I have some chores I need to run," Xander said as he pulled his arm back away from Willow and started for the door.

"Xander?"

"Hey where you running off to?" Buffy called as Xander hurried through the living room while trying to look like he wasn't hurrying.

"Got work," he offered over his shoulder as he kept his hand clenched over the words written on his palm. He pulled the door open without even making eye contact with Buffy, and as he stood in the open doorway, he made a quick prayer for Buffy and Giles to have patience because he knew how far Spike could push things when the young vampire was frightened. Entirely too far, and the slayer's patience was not exactly long.

Xander pulled the door shut behind him, ignoring Willow's attempts to cover for his rude exit, but then Buffy had been accusing of him being rude ever since that Halloween. That's just what happened when two people who were each used to being in charge tried occupying the same space. Three really... Giles wasn't exactly the type to sit back and take orders. But at least Giles had learned to step carefully around Xander unlike Buffy who still, years later, tried to treat him like the insecure submissive boy she'd first met when she came to Sunnydale.

Xander flinched slightly when he left the shade of the courtyard, and oh yeah, vampire memories were way too close to the surface today. Considering he was about to go into a part of town that catered to more demons than humans, maybe that was of the good.

After parking his car a reasonably safe distance away, Xander strode purposefully down the suburban streets as he tried to sink into that way of thinking that had been so normal when the spell had locked him into the body of a vampire. Spike was injured, damaged, weak. He should either be destroyed or brought back to health so he could devour his enemies, and that was too deep into vampire thinking, Xander realized, but he just couldn't escape the thought that Spike had a fucking right to eat the Initiative soldiers. He could feel his own need for revenge making his nonexistent fangs itch.

Xander's mood hadn't improved by the time he stopped in front of the brick building, one corner of which advertised dollar shots with a neon sign that was half dark and making a high pitched whining noise. Pushing through dirty glass doors, Xander found himself faced with a Vebight demon--green chin horns pushed out aggressively. Xander dropped his hand to the small of his back where he carried a razor sharp weapon in a thin sheath. The demon clicked and wheezed a threat in his own language.

"You can't exactly call me a normal human though, so I don't really care about your policy," Xander countered. "I assume Angel called." He looked around at the dim interior which looked like any number of other dives he'd been in: beer stained wood floor, scuffed bar, that wood paneling that had been popular for a few days in the seventies and yet still managed to line the walls of every bar in Sunnydale.

Another set of clicks, these faster, and a wheezing cough answered him as a demon head tilted, the horns even more aggressively thrust forward.

"Don't necessarily disagree with you on that one, but it doesn't change the fact that I'm here to buy blood," Xander answered without exactly looking AT the Vebight. He watched it out of the corner of his eye and kept focused on the whole room rather than a single opponent.

This time the demon brought him head down, tucking his chin in toward his chest as he narrowed his eyes and hissed his answer. In one fluid motion, Xander popped the snap on his knife's sheath, pulled the ten inches of steel free, and swung the blade in a graceful arc. The Vebight fell back, his hand clutching his stomach where a thick yellow fluid leaked onto his shirt, and the smell of Vebight blood floated into the air.

"Okay, that's just disgusting. I really wish I had remembered how much you guys stink before I cut you. But that's okay because as I remember it, the stink stops when your heart stops." Xander stepped forward and the Vebight fell back into a defensive pose. Xander swept the room with his gaze, checking for ambushes or obstacles that might trip him up before dropping into an equally aggressive posture.

"No. Not fighting. Not fighting in my shop." A much smaller demon stepped out from behind a doorway, and Xander straightened slightly although he kept his knife up and ready. The G'ranth demon could have passed for a dwarf, or was that midget, or maybe person of small stature...Xander shook his head at his ability to remember a dozen demon languages that he technically hadn't ever learned in the first place and still forget common manners that Willow nagged him about every day. He was sure there was some great meaning in that little twist of his brain, but he was too busy to follow it up right now.

"If you want to avoid fighting, you'll sell me the blood. If not, the threat about burning you out, well it wasn't a threat since I'll actually do it--burn you out that is." Xander bit his tongue at that classic bit of Xander babble. Right, when trying to intimidate the natives, use fewer words because the G'ranth was looking less intimidated than confused.

"You were primal?" the small man-demon asked as he walked behind the bar. Obviously the floor back there was higher because the demon was suddenly at eye level waving the bouncer away. The Vebight widened his nose holes and snorted unhappily, but he shuffled away without showing Xander his vulnerable backside. Xander walked around a couple of abandoned tables and leaned on the bar without taking a seat.

"Yeah," he answered carefully. Primals weren't the most popular of demon species, and he now watched two Pyleans come out of the bathroom. Both of them avoided Xander's gaze, but that didn't mean that Xander trusted them, so he leaned one hip into the counter and kept his eyes on the barkeep and the two customers as he cleaned his knife with a rag he pulled from his pocket. You never left demon gore on a good knife, and this was an exceptional knife.

"You were vampire?" The two Pyleans looked over in obvious surprise at the barkeep's words, and Xander gazed back at them until they both realized they were staring at looked away quickly.

"Yeah, didn't work out for me, so I gave it up." Xander replied calmly even though he could feel his heart start to speed up. He needed to get the blood and get back to Spike before he fucked this up by sticking his foot in his mouth ala Xander Harris classic babble. He found his ability to channel his inner vampire was limited by his nervousness which brought out the Zeppo in him. He briefly wondered what would happen if he did get turned now because with Xander childe of Nusa memories and the hyena memories and the Zeppo memories he was really kinda running on the sharp edge of sanity now. Add another demon to the mix and he might end up talking to dolls and stars with Dru. His knife was clean, but he continued to slide the cloth over the smooth surface both as an excuse to keep the knife out and as an excuse for the nervous movement his hands demanded.

"Strange, strange, strange human," the barkeep finally concluded.

"Yeah, well my claim on humanity has been slipping for a while. So, either give me the blood or you won't have any bar left to serve customers." Xander calmly looked up at the small demon and pursed his lips in an expression he'd blatantly stolen from Spike. And expression that promised imminent disemboweling and bloodshed. The G'ranth replied with a series of hisses and clicks that imitated the bouncers noises earlier.

"Yeah, yeah. Been called that by bigger bastards than you. So pack a cooler full and quote a price," Xander answered without any emotion.

"$300. Full cooler. Best price."

"Bullshit. Willy would sell me a full cooler for $100--he'd just make another $100 selling me out to the slayer. I'll give you the $200 that Willy would have made off me up front."

"Stealing. Cheating. Taking advantage of me to be small," growled the G'ranth demon.

"No one cheats a G'ranth," Xander replied dryly. "$200 and I'll do one free translating job. Nothing over three pages... six if it's Inglath or Phen'ra hyroglyphs."

"You know Phen'ra?" Xander smiled as the G'ranth body language shifted. The crossed arms and lowered brows became a comfortable lean forward against the bar and a crooked grin. Xander could practically hear the gear in the G'ranth's brain start calculating possible profit.

"You heard of Xan Nusa who does translating down at Uick's place?" he asked. The G'ranth simply cocked his head. "That's me," Xander finished as he finally put his knife back into its sheath under his shirt. "You supply the blood and a little privacy, and I could do a few jobs here at a reasonable rate." Xander didn't add that the demon could skim some profit off the top; that went without saying.

"Angel not say," the G'ranth complained mildly.

"Angel not know," Xander said back. The G'ranth smiled slowly, its eyes starting to gleam in the low light of the bar.

"You good almost human."

"I take that as a compliment. I'll also take my cooler of blood please," Xander said as he vowed to shut up now. He could feel the bubbles of Zeppohood bubbling up. A desire to hum a little tune at the Pyleans, a flash of Wizard of Oz humor watching the G'ranth demon hurry to collect supplies, even a slight desire to giggle, in a manly way of course, at the thought that he had intimidated a Vebight demon. Oh yeah, time to just not talk. Play Oz, be cool, keep the mouth shut.

Soon enough the barkeep had returned with a blue camping cooler full of ice and blood, and Xander slapped $200 down on the bar. He would have happily paid the $300 just to keep Buffy from knowing that he was buying human blood, but not arguing with a G'ranth was just asking people to take him for a fool.

"I call you at Uick's?" the little demon asked as he picked up and counted the $20 bills.

"Better not. Uick is a little... short tempered. Call my cell," Xander pulled a tattered card out of his pocket and slid it across the bar. Green embossed letters offered the translation services of Xan Nusa and a single phone number.

"Good business," the G'ranth clicked happily. "I be Cooper."

"Well, Cooper," Xander said as he reached over and took the handle of the blue plastic container. "It will be good business as long as no one knows about it, but if anyone finds out about any of our dealings, it will be very, very bad business." Xander took one last look around the bar, but no one met his gaze. Turning his back on the room in a clear sign of his contempt for their fighting skills, Xander walked back out into the sunshine. They didn't need to know that the whole time he walked toward his car he had a need to either pee his pants or run like hell. Nope. As long as he kept channeling equal parts Oz cool and vampire aggression he could pull this off.

Xander put the cooler on the backseat of his '82 Ford Grenada with its square nose and two tone blue paint job. Buffy and Willow loved to make fun of his lady, but the upgraded engine would run long after their trendy cars died and the dark windows made him feel secure even if he wasn't technically flammable any more. With the easy part taken care of, now he just had to go talk Giles into believing that he should be the one to take care of their bloodsucking guest.