TITLE: Riders on the Storm
AUTHOR: mailto:Xanpet2000@aol.com
SERIES: Sequel to ‘Swing!’ Part I of the Elemental Quatrain
RATING: NC17 from the beginning. I don’t write children’s stories.
WARNING: M/M slash. Violence in later chapters, including death and references to torture.
PAIRING: S/X
SUMMARY: Spike and Xander are cursed to be together after Xander made a wish. (Read ‘Swing!’ for more details.)
CATEGORY: High action/adventure
SPOILERS: Everything as per canon up to and including ‘Entropy’, season 6 episode 18. AU after that.
DISTRIBUTION: Just ask, as I like to know where my babies are, so that I can visit.
DISCLAIMER: If you can name the actor that plays them, they’re not mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and all his little friends. I do earn a living but not from this. This I do for fun.
FEEDBACK: Yes! Yes! Yes!
DEDICATION: To Steffi who agreed to beta for me and must have stayed up a long time to do it. She’s a great internet friend. Thank-you, Honey.
Author’s Note: This was written in response to all those who begged for a sequel to ‘Swing!’ I clearly told that plot to sit quietly and behave but did it listen? Did it buggery! So if you’re one of those waiting for ‘Parenthood’ sorry. I have some nine stories in various states of repair and that’s just the fan fic. There’s at least four original pieces as well.
I usually ask an American to beta for me, to keep my US characters sounding like that side of the pond, but I’ve had real trouble finding someone for this and Steffi was fantastic so if they keep creeping east, you know why. That’s enough from me, if you want to hear any more of my blither check out my live journal. Now on with the show. Enjoy.
Riders on the Storm
Chapter 1
The sound of the front door hitting the wall, with enough force to crack the plasterwork behind, was the first clue Spike had that his lover was royally pissed off. The fact that it was three in the afternoon and Xander didn’t usually clock off until five thirty was possibly the second.
Of course, it could just have been the weather. It had been one of those hot, oppressive days. One of those days, that seemed to thunder without ever actually raining. The heat had woken the vampire early and now he sat, spread eagled on the sofa watching daytime soaps, sipping blood and waiting for the storm. He looked very much at home. Hardly surprising really, technically he was. He’d made Xander’s apartment his home ever since the curse that bound them together for life.
The third and most comprehensive piece of evidence as to Xander’s mood was the TV Guide hitting the vampire in the face as he sat there in nothing but his jeans.
“Can’t you ever tidy up? I mean I know vampire sleep time and everything, but you’re awake, so prove it! Do something!”
“Oh yeah. That’s pissed off.” Thought Spike. “What crawled up your arse and died?” He asked out loud.
“You! Although maybe in reverse.”
“Eh?”
“Oh never mind. It’s just I seem to be the only one bringing anything home bacon wise. I’m doing all the working and you get to do all the sitting on your cute but idle tush!” Xander stooped to undo his work boots, thus giving Spike an excellent view of his own shapely rear end. He hurled them into the corner like they’d personally insulted him, socks following not long after.
“Not like I can just go out and get a bloody nine to five you know. I don’t know how many times we have to have this conversation. Maybe I should just leave.” Spike felt sick at that last remark but sometimes it had to be done. They were so happy for the most part, so in love, that increasingly they reminded each other of the curse, Halfrek’s gift to her friend. ‘I wish we could be lovers for life’ Xander had said and Halli had said ‘done’.
Xander stopped collecting dirty coffee mugs and looked wide-eyed and horrified. “You don’t mean that.” He said, sounding as if tears weren’t far behind. “You can’t, what with me loving you an’ all. Please don’t leave me and look now with the begging and…”
Spike came and put him out of his misery by kissing him long and gently. He licked at Xander’s lips until the young man opened his mouth, and they frenched until Xander found it difficult to draw air.
“Not fair.” He said, breaking away and heading for the kitchen with the mugs. How he hated it when they pulled this stunt on one another, testing the bounds of the curse or just as a punishment. The fact was that neither of them could leave. That was how it worked. In the beginning, once the initial euphoria had worn off, they’d both tried leaving, only to find each begging the other to stay.
When the rest of the gang found out it got worse. Xander tried to kill Willow for suggesting she might be able to break it, his hands around her throat. He, Xander, for whom violence against women was the most heinous of crimes! And Spike had turned on Buffy with a vitriolic diatribe so vicious it resulted in a brain fry.
The more they fought it, the more it took hold. Desperate and lovesick, they had nearly driven everyone else away and then came the startling discovery that if they behaved like a devoted and loving couple then…nothing. It was possible to function perfectly normally. Xander could go to work and Spike could do whatever it was chipped vampires do in the wee small hours, without the constant need to be joined at the hip. “Not that that part is of the bad either.” Thought Xander.
He placed the mugs in the sink. They would have to be soaked before he put them in the dishwasher. Three-day-old congealed blood was murder to shift. “Meet Alexander, Vampire Domestic.” He muttered, knowing the vampire would hear him. He sighed. It had been an uber sucky day so far.
Spike came up behind him and circled his waist with his arms. He pressed his groin into Xander’s backside and bumped against him, resting his chin on Xander’s broad shoulder, “So, apart from the fact that Isabella Beeton I ain’t, what else is bugging my nummy treat.”
Another sigh escaped and Xander leant back into his lover, saying almost in a whisper, “I’ve been fired.”
“What!” Spike exclaimed, turning Xander round in his arms, “Why did they give you the tin tack?”
“Oh, one of the guys got in my face about they whole gay thing and not in a good way.”
“But you’re site foreman. You can deal with a little insubordination in the ranks.”
“Yup, I can deal. Dealt him a right hook on the nose!”
Spike’s jaw dropped at the ferocity of the remark. “You hit the bloke? Okay that’s more of a ‘me’ thing, but still. I mean you told them you were provoked right?”
“The boss said that sometimes other lines of work were better suited to people of differing persuasions and suggested I tried interiors instead.”
“Please tell me you hit him an’ all.” Spike snarled.
“The thing is - it’s going to get tight in the money department, y’know. Loose change - not so loose.” Xander went on, ignoring him. “Then there’s your blood, the rent and bills big enough to be the debts of some small countries.” Panic set in the more Xander thought about what his not having a job meant for both of them.
“Shhhh.” Said Spike softly, “You can do bugger all about it today. Know something that might just take your mind off it.” And he wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Sex was Spike’s solution to anything he couldn’t solve with violence. Xander let out a soft sigh and allowed himself to be led to the bedroom. There had been many changes in his life since his jilting of Anya and his curse. The bedroom was under a mountain of dirty laundry for a start, but he couldn’t deny that sex with the vampire rated up there with chocolate and Tex Avery. A peel of thunder sounded in agreement.
Spike pushed him gently back onto the bed and proceeded to remove his clothing, item by item, only stopping to kiss and nip at each newly revealed piece of sun-kissed skin. Xander was hot, not just in terms of body heat and obvious sexual appeal but his colouring and even his very soul exuded warmth the vampire could bath in. There was another rumble from the heavens.
The human giggled and wriggled beneath his vampiric counterpart, “Stop! Ahhhh! Tickle much! Stop!” He exclaimed in staccato phrases. It was as much as he could do to breathe.
“Stop? Okay.” And with that, Spike slid himself down the other’s body and, hovering briefly to admire the view, lowered his mouth onto Xander’s strained erection. “Thank-you Halfrek.” He thought in silent prayer as he often did when his lover was laid out before him like this, panting, desperate and wanting. Giving the master vampires of the nest head was something every fledgling got used to eventually, whatever their sexual orientation had been in life. It was also a wicked way of getting a potential meal to stay still, but to do it for love to a man who loved you right back, whatever the cause of that love, was the best feeling of all.
The hold he had on Xander’s hips was feather light and teasing as he worked the cock ever farther down his hungry throat. He rolled the head around his tongue, tasting a little pre cum and coating the whole shaft in saliva. Xander began to moan quietly above him, telegraphing his mounting pleasure.
The vampire’s skilled mouth was so cool that Xander frantically tried to get as much of his burning cock into it as possible. He tilted his hips and pushed the tip into Spike’s cheek, caressing it from outside and thus petting the hardworking vampire at the same time. “That’s sooo good!” He sighed, “Yeah. Like that.”
Spike could tell that Xander was close to orgasm. He slid his left hand under his lover’s buttocks and ran his index finger into the crack between Xander’s arse cheeks. He slid his fingers into that hot moist space and Xander’s thrusts and cries of ecstasy reached fever pitch just as lightening flashed across the sky outside the heavy curtains.
Xander thought he could stand it no longer, he was going to explode with the sweetness of it. Spike breeched his hole and he came, shooting his load in such bursts that some of the semen dribbled from Spike’s mouth and ran down his chin. He curled his tongue around his lips and finished every last drop.
Giving Xander’s prostate one quick stroke, he removed his finger and sat back on his haunches. Xander was still breathing heavily, eyes closed and head thrown back. Spike removed his jeans, reached into the bedside cabinet draw for the lube, and was unscrewing the cap when Xander’s hand landed on his wrist.
“Just what were you thinking of doing with that, vampire mine?” Xander asked, sitting up.
“There’s a nasty squeak under the bed I thought I’d fix. What the fuck do you think I’m going to do with it? You’ve come, now it’s my turn.” And he squirted some of the cool clear gel onto his fingers while motioning his lover to lie down again.
“And now with the handy house vamp?! Nope, ‘fraid I’m still pissed, so you get to bottom.”
“Oh yeah? Think you can manage it twice?” Asked the vampire in a mock sneering tone.
“I’m twenty one, did a heavy manual job until about two thirty this afternoon and have enough testosterone on board to sink the Bismarck. Give me two pints of water and about fifteen minutes and yes, I think I will manage it. They don’t call me two shots Harris for nothing. Now put that lube where the sun don’t shine before I’m forced to spank you.”
Spike considered the spanking but decided the former was better. He waited until Xander had settled himself back on the bed after going to get his water, and stood over the brunet so that Xander had a clear view of his entire genital area. He raised his cock and balls with his right hand, stroking them gently.
Xander’s already dilated pupils seemed to fill his eyes completely and his breath came in short pants. He reached for his own flaccid member and began to stroke new life into it, staring at the erotic scene in front of him. He really had to get fired more often if this was his reward.
The bleach blond slid his fingers back along the perineum and, finding his goal, sunk no less than two deep within himself with a lingering sigh. He rocked backwards and forwards on his hand, eyes screwed tight shut in pleasure.
“Open your eyes, Spike,” Said Xander, “Look what you’re doing to me.” And Spike opened his eyes to see Xander’s cock stiff in his hand.
Xander squeezed more lube onto his own fingers and pushed them into Spike with enough force to elicit a gasp and cause the vampire to sway slightly. He manoeuvred underneath his lover in order to gain access with his tongue. Spike went wild with lust and need.
“Now. Now. Now.” The vampire begged, pulling the fingers from him and throwing himself to the bed. Lightening flashed, thunder roared and Xander buried his cock deep inside Spike’s waiting hole. Outside, at last, the storm broke and huge raindrops began to pitter-pat onto the roof tiles.
Xander pounded his cock into his lover setting up a relentless rhythm to work off the day’s frustrations. Spike gripped the other’s hips so tight that he knew he would leave bruises. It was funny but the chip never fired during sex. It was almost as if it couldn’t tell pain when it was masked by ecstasy. Spike could even bite his human lover, but not this time. Right now Xander needed to be in charge.
Without once breaking his stroke, Xander raised Spike’s legs until his hips were clean off the bed. Spike squeezed Xander’s dick with his internal muscles, whimpering now as he felt his own pleasure rise.
“OH, my fuck. Gonna come. Oh don’t stop. Fuck me. Fuck me.” And with that, the vampire shot cool semen in three or four bursts, high onto Xander’s chest. He bent his head to lick his own come from one of Xander’s nipples and that was it, Xander hammered into him twice more and cried out incoherent drivel, shooting his load, coating his lover’s insides.
They
collapsed next to one another, Xander breathing heavily, and listened to the
storm drumming on building until either it subsided or lulled them to
sleep. It was impossible to tell which
happened first.
“So?” Xander looked expectantly at Buffy over the small table. She looked pale and tired, although that could have been a side effect of the fluorescent lighting, neon uniform and incessant Muzak. “Yep, Muzak definitely drains the soul.” Xander decided.
“You want to run it by me again?”
“I’ve told you twice, should I give you the twelve inch? And I can’t believe I just said that!”
“I can’t believe you want me to pay Spike for his help. For a start, he won’t come up with enough to pay for that burger and for a second thing – no. I’m sorry Xander, the whole you and himness of it creeps me out, when you want The Slayer’s help I’m your gal.” And she mimed a staking to get her point across.
“Don’t do that!” Snapped Xander going green and putting down his sandwich hurriedly. “You know the whole dying and curse breakage deal. Remember how easy it was NOT to leave the house. Upside, he can’t turn me.”
“That’s not an upside. There is no upside, there’s only downness. Going down – and I can’t believe I just said that!”
She looked at his dejected face. For all her shallowness, deep down inside, Buffy hated to see her friends in pain. As punishments go this was a doody, even though for the most part they seemed happy, at least of late. The knock on effects were devastating. Vengeance was a weapon of mass destruction. Angel’s curse was a case in point, not done to save the world or even to save a single person, just blind vengeance. The net result had been Jenny Calendar dead, Giles tortured, and Angel and her torn apart. She knew little of the wish Cordelia had made but from what Anya had told Xander, it seemed they had all died that time. They had come close to it at her party as well, trapped in a house with a wall-hiding demon. “Massively destructive.” She decided.
So no vengeance for her, she was vengeance free and that, she had to concede, included Spike. Anyway, who was to say that dusting him would actually break the curse? It could be that both parties had to die. Xander would be hurt irrevocably left alone and their friendship was already strained, fallout from the whole Anya/Spike TV premier.
She reached across the table and held his hand. He nodded ever so slightly and stood to go. “Thanks anyway.” He said. Deep down he’d known when it came to Spike, the only person he could rely on was Spike, and maybe that was a blessing in disguise.
The vampire was waiting for him outside, leaning with one foot against the wall and reading a newspaper, “Well?” He said looking up.
“Would a no surprise you?”
“Told you it was a stupid idea.”
“Well if you’ve
got any bright ones I’d love to hear them, ‘cos I’m all out. Union’s got this town sown up tight, there’s
not a site in Sunnydale that’ll employ me.
I am the original
persona non grata.”
“Welcome to my world.” Said Spike sullenly, flicking through the paper absentmindedly, “Ah! Things might just be looking up.” He pointed to a small ad buried deep inside the back pages.
Xander leant over and read: “Wanted couriers for small collection and delivery. Half and half.” There was a callbox number for replies. “And?” He asked, looking puzzled.
“Half and half – half now and half on delivery and whatever it is they aren’t using UPS. My guess, about as kosher as trotters in brine so bound to pay well.”
Xander snatched the paper from him and looked at the front, “The Preternatural Prattler! I don’t know why you read this rag.”
“Like the horoscopes. At least they’re genuine. What about the job?”
“It’s a bad idea.” Said Xander.
He said it when they went to phone the number as well. And when they got the collection address. And when they packed up the bike for the long trip. And even when they collected the packet and the money…all $50,000 of it.
He suggested putting the bulk of it in the night safe but Spike didn’t trust banks. “This is Sunnyhell.” He reminded Xander, “Just our luck to have some demonic Bonny and Clyde come along while we’re away or the entire bank turn into a giant wine gum. We’ll put it in the back box. What’s the worst that could happen to it?”
Xander said that was a bad idea too but, with a heavy sigh, complied. The packet was small enough for Spike to put in the inside pocket of his coat.
It was coming up to eight in the evening by the time they left. Xander settled himself for the haul, all the way to a ranch deep in the Baja peninsula. Spike was going to have to do over a ton all the way to the border. The bike’s tank was full and they had extra fuel canisters just in case. They made it to Tecate just before the crossing closed at midnight. It was forty extra miles but the quieter crossing and avoided the Ensenada toll road.
South of the border, down Mexico way should have been a drive filled with bandits and high adventure. It wasn’t. The drive was long, boring and Xander’s arms were stiff from holding the pillion handgrip behind him for the best part of four hours. Once over the border, there was nothing to look at and he was running the risk of falling asleep. He wished fervently for anything to break up the monotony.
“Hey!” Yelled Spike suddenly, “We’re being followed.”
Cursing his stupidity for even giving thought to a wish, Xander looked behind him but could see nothing, “I don’t think so. Not like there’s anywhere to hide. Pretty much desert, as in deserted.”
“Can hear them. Other bikes, coming this way.” Headlights appeared from either side, not on the road but far out into the dust. And now Xander could hear the engines too, roaring out into the night.
Spike slowed down a little, with their newly acquired welcoming committee now travelling in the same direction, closing all the time and matching their speed. “When I say jump, jump!” Commanded Spike. Xander just nodded and adjusted his hold to hug his lover’s waist, figuring he had less chance of breaking his arms that way.
The vampire counted four bikes, two bearing down on them at a furious rate, clearly intent on ramming them off the road. A collision was inevitable. No time to think, he accelerated with a screech of tyres, the two pursuing bikes colliding head on with a terrific crash. Sparks and pieces of shrapnel were thrown high into the air and neither driver stood a chance of survival. One landed with a dull thud on the road, the other disappeared altogether. Spike and Xander careered through the tiny gap just in time.
Spike threw a hard right, leaving the road completely and bumping over the desert rocks. He slowed the bike to a crawl and bellowed, “JUMP!”
Xander needed no second bidding; he tumbled over and over, stones, cacti and probably sleeping snakes to arrive beside a huge boulder, which he quickly scooted behind.
He thanked whatever god looked after cursed vampire shaggers that Spike insisted he wear full protective leathers and a helmet when on the bike. Most of the time, he considered it a cross between over protectiveness, due to the curse, and a fetish, but right now, it had saved his skin, quite literally.
He could still hear the remaining bikes screaming in the darkness, their headlights making eerie shadows in the dust storm they were creating. Their engines thundered around him until it was impossible to tell in which direction they were going.
Spike meanwhile was doing his best to lead the other two bikes away from Xander’s hiding place. He bounced the bike over stones and rocks, further and further out into the desert. His spine jarred and then came the shot. It rang out with a sharp crack.
He swung the bike back round as another bullet sailed by close enough to feel. One gunman was directly in front of him, the other much further away. Too far to matter, Spike decided.
“Okay, wanker,” He thought, “Wanna play games? Anyone for chicken?” And he propelled the bike forward, head on. Another shot, this time hitting the vampire in the shoulder and nearly taking him right off the bike. He yelled in pained surprise.
The gunman must have thought this his lucky day. He had a clean target, coming straight for him. He fired two more shots before he realised that Spike wasn’t going down. Nor was he stopping or even slowing. At the last minute, Spike flung himself from the seat, rolling repeatedly on his wounds. Cacti scratched his face and caught in his clothes and hair. A rattler buzzed close to his ear.
The gunman didn’t have time to react. He managed to swerve only to clip Spike’s bike creating a shower of sparks and igniting the extra fuel. The explosion lit up the sky.
Spike covered his head against the sudden noise and light. Debris rained down on all sides. He was in pain, wounded and had no idea how far he was from Xander. Not to mention the fact that there was one more biker out there somewhere.
The desert was however, silent and dark. The last rider had gone subtle on them. Spike rolled onto his back and raised his head to find himself staring down the barrel of a gun.
“You bastard!” Said the man, “Give me the package.”
“And?”
“And you die quickly.” This bloke clearly had no idea that he was talking to a vampire.
“And if I don’t?” A shot rang out and Spike screamed in agony, clutching his thigh high up near the hip joint.
The gunman knelt next to the injured vampire, “Femoral artery. Now give me the package or you bleed to death in the desert and the coyotes fight over your bones.”
“Eww! Graphic much. A little less with the televisuals please,” said a familiar voice in the darkness. Spike looked up to see Xander, resting a gun muzzle between the man’s shoulder blades. “It’s amazing what falls out of the sky at your feet these days.” He continued by way of explanation.
For a long moment, they were frozen like that, in tableau. Spike thought just how hot his lover looked, all in leathers, with his crash helmet in one hand and a gun in the other. “Every vampire’s wet dream!” He thought. “Definitely one for the album.” But he knew Xander wasn’t going to pull the trigger and it wouldn’t take long for the bloke to realise it either. There was only so long you could keep a loaded gun pointed at someone before you either did the business or they called your bluff.
With super speed, Spike sat up shoving the man backwards into Xander. The sudden movement was enough, Xander reacted involuntarily and the gun went off. The contents of the man’s chest splattered wetly onto Spike and the desert dust. The body fell sideways jerking and twitching. Then it was still.
“What did you do that for?” Yelled Xander angrily, once he’d recovered enough from the shock to speak. He looked at the vampire in horror. Spike was greedily licking blood and other things from his arms and hands.
“Cos you weren’t going to.” He answered looking up from his free meal. Xander’s face said it all. He’d used his lover as a weapon. Spike hadn’t pulled the trigger or even pointed the gun so the chip hadn’t fired. He had dispatched four men without touching one of them and now here he was devouring the spoils. For a moment, he knew Xander could see behind the curse and he was looking straight into the jaws of the beast.
For a split second, Xander went cold. There was a moment of clarity when he saw the monster in front of him for what it truly was; a soulless killer with a clawing bloodlust, but then it was gone. The curse swept back over him and he realised his lover was hurt. “Can you stand?” He asked, “Only daylight kinda pressing and we need to get moving.”
But Spike shook his head. “There’s what looked to be an old mine shaft a little way back. We’ll use his bike.”
“I think there’s a farmhouse up ahead. That might be better if I can get a party invite,” said Xander. The thought of spending the day in a hole in the ground did not fill him with joy.
Spike groaned, “It’s a bad idea but I’m in too much pain to argue.”
“Speaking of bad ideas,” Said Xander, putting his shoulder under Spike’s good arm and raising him to his feet, none too gently, “Where did we put the money? In the bank? Oh no ‘cos the back box was so much safer.” And he nodded irritably towards the flaming remains of their bike. As a money making exercise this was not going well, he thought.
Having lifted the vampire onto the back of the dead man’s machine, Xander slid himself onto the front and drove the short distance to the farmhouse. It looked so dilapidated that for a minute he hoped it was empty but then he saw the flowers in the neatly painted window box.
He knocked on the door and called for help. There was a rustle at an upstairs window, sounds of voices arguing and then a man with a strong Mexican accent called, “Go away! I have a gun.”
“I’m sorry Senor,” Called Xander, “But we were attacked, on the highway. My friend’s been shot. Please! We need your help.”
A woman’s voice could be heard deep within the house. Xander was about to give up and head for the mine when the bolts were slid back and a rifle was being pointed from around the rough wooden door.
“We heard the shots and sounds of motor cycles. Then there was an explosion. How badly is your friend hurt?” Asked the man, still hidden by the door.
“I just need to get him inside. He needs to lie down. Can we come in?” Xander asked again, well aware he needed to elicit a verbal invitation.
It was the woman who said, “Si, of course. Papa let them in. Can’t you see the man’s covered in blood? He will need a medico.”
She opened the door wide and helped Xander carry Spike inside to the sofa. When she put him down there was blood on her white nightgown.
“No, don’t need a doctor.” Said Spike, “We um forgot to get insurance. I’ll be all right. Looks worse than it is, just need a shower and some sleep.”
“There is no shower here.” Said the man, groughly, “But Jaquinta will draw you a bath and you’ll need some dressings and tweezers. It looks like you fell in some prickly pear.” There were indeed a large number of spines sticking out of Spike’s coat and skin.
They waited while the bath was run and first aid equipment found. They were shown upstairs to a spare bedroom, “I am sorry, there is only one bed. Just leave your clothes outside the door. I’ll soak them in the morning,” said Jaquinta, smiling kindly.
Xander sat on the edge of the bath and stared at the pinkish water. Spike sat back with his eyes closed. The brunet had pulled no less than three bullets from him, one embedded deep in his groin, while the vampire had bitten down on the handle of a hairbrush so as not to scream. In comparison, the thorns had been a doddle.
He looked at the huge wound. It was hard to believe it was already closing. He’d lost all sympathy with the dead men. So, Spike was a monster; had he been human, he’d be dead. Had they chased Xander instead of the vampire they would have had no hesitation in leaving him in the desert for the vultures to eat.
It was
full daylight before they finally made it to bed. Xander hung one of the blankets over the curtain pole to block
out any stray sunlight and carefully removed the crucifix from the wall and put
it in a drawer.
He
climbed into bed, curling up around his vampire. “I love you.” He
whispered.
“Love
you more.” Spike replied.
It was well-gone midday when Xander finally surfaced. Leaving Spike to sleep, he washed and tried to put on the clothes Jaquinta had left outside the door. The sleeveless white tee shirt fitted where it touched. It was stretched tight over his chest leaving nothing to the imagination. It was also short so that the dark line of hair, which started at his navel and disappeared much lower, was clearly visible. The pants were a non-starter. He decided to keep his leathers on.
Pulling on his biker’s boots he headed down the stairs. Bread and cheese had been left on the table, together with two plates and bacon was warming by the range. Xander ate quickly and, placing his dish in the sink, headed out into the yard. Jaquinta was feeding the noisy brown chickens that ran around in the dust. Her father, Miguel Ramirez, was trying to replace a window frame.
“Hey, you want some help with that?” Called Xander cheerfully, strolling over. Miguel just eyed him suspiciously.
The wood of the old frame had rotted away to powdery flakes but to tell the truth the new stuff wasn’t much better. It had been left to stand and was badly warped. “You’re going to need a couple of dozen clamps to hold that in place or it’s just going to do that springy thing.” Said Xander, “Of course it’s thick enough, you could always plane it down, try to get the worst of the kinks out.”
Miguel frowned. He was making it all too clear that he didn’t want the help of strangers. Xander wondered what had happened to cause such mistrust. Nevertheless, he persevered, “Or you could keep the kinks. Kinks are good but windows are better. Here let me.” And he took up some tools and a plank.
He liked Jaquinta, she was of the kind and he was determined to reciprocate whether the farmer wanted it or not. His sense of fair play would not be swayed on this one. They couldn’t make their delivery until tonight at the earliest, so it was hardly a waste of time. “What harm can it do?” He reflected, hearing an engine start and watching as a dust trail rose far out in the distance, heading south. This place was so isolated, he wondered why anyone would come this far and not visit the farm, but an impatient Miguel interrupted his thoughts.
“You know what you are doing?” He asked.
“Sorta in the trade.” Xander replied.
Miguel snorted and stomped back to the house.
Xander worked on the window for the rest of the afternoon. He wanted to take the tee shirt off but Miguel shook his head and pointed to his daughter, who was hanging washing on the line. The only other time he came out was to bring some cool lemonade and check on progress.
By about five it was done. Feeling satisfied, Xander took the remains of his drink down to the wire fence that marked the edge of the Ramirez’ land.
It was beautiful here and for the first time since he lost his job, Xander relaxed. He listened to the cicadas singing loudly and watched buzzards swooping on the horizon. Every now and again, a lizard skittered across the ground. And who ever said that deserts lacked colour?
Jaquinta joined him at the fence. “You like?” She said softly, her smile calm.
“Yeah, I like. What’s not to like? It’s straight out of a John Wayne movie right down to the cactus.”
“Which one?”
“That tall one. Standing there with its hands up.” He pointed at a particular tree. “Cowboy Cactus.” He said.
“Cardon.” She replied. “And that’s a prickly pear. Papa makes wine from the stems but I wouldn’t drink it. It is maybe good for cleaning pots.”
Xander laughed, “What about this one?” He asked indicating a tall thin cactus with bright orange flowers, like flames on top of the green.
“Boojum.”
“You’re making it up!” Now she looked hurt. It was the sort of look Dawn sometimes gave him. He took her by the hand and climbed the fence. She followed. “I bet you got names for them all.” He said kindly, flashing her his best smile.
She showed him Ocotillo, Copalquin and Torote. Fat barrel cactus, red tipped with swirls of spines and low Staghorn Cholla with its bright yellow flowers in tight round buds. There were also Organ pipe cacti, which Jaquinta called Pitahaya and it seemed everything had thorns. No wonder he and Spike had been so cut up last night.
“Is all this land yours?” He asked.
“Si. Papa inherited it. It has silver but bad men from the south want it. When Papa wouldn’t sell, they came in the night and threatened us. Mama left with the little ones but I stayed. Papa cannot afford to start up the mine but he is a proud man and won’t leave his land. These men are ruthless.” Her voice trailed off.
“I’m sorry you have mega problems,” he said, suddenly very aware of her physical presence.
“We all have problems. They help to make us who we are,” she replied, “The desert doesn’t bloom without a storm.”
Her deep brown eyes met his and a long strand of hair escaped her braid to fall across her eyes. He moved it lightly, fully aware of the intimacy of the gesture.
Abruptly, she shook her head as if purging the last of the bad memories. He removed his hand hurriedly and she continued her nature tour. Another Cardon, this time with buds like nodules along its ridges that bloomed into tiny yellow and white flowers, like someone had decorated the cactus with daises. She still looked sad but when he smiled gently at her she smiled back and said, “You and your friend, you are more than just friends, I think.”
“That easy to tell?” It surprised him but it came as a relief that she’d noticed.
“You care for him a great deal. I see it in your eyes. And him for you also. It is sad.”
He looked puzzled for a moment. He supposed that good catholic girls in Mexico might not have the most open views on homosexuality, any more than the site workers did.
She must have seen his expression change because she took both his hands, “Oh not for you, it is sad. You mistake my English. For me it is sad because not so many good-looking men come this way. I like you. We are friends, si?” And she stood on tiptoe as if she was about to kiss him.
He didn’t have time to panic for at that moment a shout came from the house and they both looked back to see Miguel running towards them. He was waving his arms frantically and carried his rifle.
As he came nearer, Xander could hear him shouting, “Get away from her! Unclean thing! I will kill you! Get away!”
He quickly took a step away from Jaquinta and held up his hands.
“Papa, what is the meaning of this? What is happening?” Jaquinta broke into rapid Spanish and ran towards her father. He was still gesticulating wildly with the gun.
Xander stood still until Jaquinta seemed to have calmed Miguel down and then approached slowly, hands still high above his head.
“Papa, talk to him. He cannot be what you say. He is standing here in broad daylight. Papa, please!” She turned to Xander, “Xander tell him. Tell him he is talking nonsense. There is no such thing as vampires!”
Xander said nothing. He looked from father to daughter. What could he say, he’d known there was definitely such thing as vampires from the time he was fifteen. He was more concerned with how Miguel had found out and whether or not Spike was okay. He felt pretty sure his lover was still alive, or should that be unalive? He’d felt no pull on the curse.
The angry farmer pushed the gun right up under Xander’s chin. The young man inhaled sharply as he pulled back the small white tee shirt at the collar, revealing a series of white puncture scars and one new one.
“Would you believe giant mosquitoes?” Asked Xander, hoping a quip might relieve the tension. He was certain that Spike was watching and listening from the house but until the sun set he was trapped.
“You have come here to curse this house. Your kind brings bad luck and attracts the devil. We have enough problems without his attentions.”
“Cursage so not my deal! Trust me on this one. Hey at sundown we’re outta here.”
“Papa, if it is as you say you will make the other angry. Please let’s just go inside and talk.”
Miguel looked from one to the other, as if not knowing what to do next. He stalked round Xander, keeping the gun trained on him and frog-marched him back to the house. Spike was sitting at the table, looking pissed but otherwise unhurt.
“You okay?” He asked Xander as soon as they were inside. Xander nodded. “Good.” Said Spike in a tone that sounded suspiciously like a threat.
“What happened?” Xander was careful not to make any sudden moves and he kept his voice light.
“He wanted to know why the crucifix had been taken down. Pulled the blanket away from the window and nearly set fire to me toes.” There was a slight snarl in the vampire’s voice. “He went garrety after that.”
Xander turned to Miguel and Jaquinta, “Look nothing we told you was untrue. We were attacked on the road. Yeah he’s a bloodsucking creature of the night but we all have our faults. You should see my choice in shirts.”
“You must go!” Insisted Miguel.
“Love to mate but how’s about waiting ‘til after dark eh?” Spike chipped in.
“Papa, be reasonable. They’ve not hurt us.” Jaquinta started towards the kitchen, “I’ll pack some food for you Xander. You’ll need your strength if you’re going to feed him as well and I’ll find you some more clothes. Be good Papa and don’t shoot anyone.”
Xander thought it safe to sit down at the table. Miguel sat down too a little way away and took out a rag from his pocket. He made a big show of cleaning the gun and all the while, he maintained eye contact with the vampire and his lover.
It didn’t take long for Jaquinta to pack what was needed but by the time they were ready it was full dark. They left the small farmhouse with Miguel standing glaring at them from the doorway still rubbing his rifle. Spike kick started the bike and the engine roared into life. Jaquinta squeezed past her father and ran towards them. She threw her arms around Xander’s neck and kissed him hard on his closed lips. “Take care.” She said and ran back to the house.
Spike looked at Xander with a quizzical, what have you been up to type look, turned the bike and headed for the open road.