AUTHOR: Kassandra
DISCLAIMER: All belongs to Joss.
RATING: PG-13 for implied homoeroticism
SUMMARY: Andrew and Spike get closer. Sort of.
CONTENT: Andrew / Spike
NOTES: I love Spike, and I love Andrew. And I think they have good chemistry together. And even though I'm fairly certain that Spike would break the little blond, I can't help imagining them being attracted to each other.
FEEDBACK: Will make my day.

Posterity

"Why the hell are you following me?" Spike so abruptly halts and turns around that Andrew almost stumbles into him.

Catching himself without lowering his camera for even a second, Andrew asks, "What?" Then he just continues to stare at the vampire through the lens in front of his eye.

"Why are you following me? You've been running after me for half an hour now, clinging to my heels like a clod of dirt, and it's really starting to bug me." Spike buries his hands in the pockets of his duster only to produce a pack of cigarettes and his zippo a moment later. "Don't get me wrong, mate, if you're looking for an easy way to get yourself killed I'll gladly be of service..."

Andrew chooses to ignore that last comment and zooms the picture of Spike's face closer instead. "I want to ban the great deeds of William the Bloody on film forever. You know, posterity - if there's going to be one - will be very interested in-"

"Stop that. You won't get me through flattery like you do all the others. I'm not giving any bloody damn about posterity and..." he lights his cigarette and inhales deeply, "I'll snap your skinny neck if you don't stop pointing that thing at me right now."

Andrew tentatively lets the camera sink, his blue eyes flitting nervously between Spike's face and his hand that holds the cigarette. There's a slight tone of hurt in his voice when he says, "I'm sorry, I-I..."

"Yeah, whatever." Spike waves, the gesture meant to dismiss the other, before he turns around again to resume his way over the dark cemetery.

For a moment Andrew looks after him confused, unsure of what to do. He feels the gloomy air crawl closer to him, and as ridiculous at it sounds, he definitely feels safer in the vampire's presence. "Spike, wait up", he calls, clutching the camera to his chest while he starts to run after the other man. "Hey, wait for me, please..."

Spike pauses and takes one last drag from the cigarette before he flicks it away. When Andrew has caught up with him, even slightly panting from running the short distance the vampire rolls his eyes and then fixes them on the boy in front of him. "You are something of a hanger-on, aren't you?"

"Uh... would you mind me joining you?" Andrew wears an askew and half-insecure grin on his face, only returning Spike's gaze very loosely as if he is afraid of not being able to turn his eyes away once he's really fastened them on the other. "I mean, only- if I'm not intruding or something."

"Oh, you could never do that, could you now?" The vampire smiles drily, looking Andrew slowly up and down in a way that obviously unsettles the boy. There is something geekishly handsome about that slight blond body that he has absently noticed before, but never given any deeper thought. Well, he has a thing for slight blondes after all. When Andrew starts to nervously step from one foot to the other under his gaze Spike just sighs. "Ah, bloody hell, just come along. I'm on the way to my old crypt to get my telly. It might not work down in the basement, but a bloke's gotta try, don't he? It's really boring to wait for the apocalypse without watching some television. But don't think of using the camera again", he adds threateningly for good measure.

After walking in something like companionable silence for a minute Andrew speaks up, "Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you really have a soul now?"

Spike snorts. "If I didn't you could tell by being dead now."

Andrew swallows audibly. "And what about that chip everyone was talking about? I thought it prevented you from hurting humans."

"It did. But it's out now. There's only my soul standing between you and a very violent death at my hands. And considering what you've done to your friend a soul isn't a really safe bet, is it." He looks at the boy walking beside him, sees the sudden flinch, the drawing up of the bony shoulders. He feels a sharp uncomfortable and unfamiliar pang of compassion. "Sorry, shouldn't have said that. It seems you're already suffering enough without me rubbing salt into the wound."

"It's okay", Andrew mumbles meekly. "I do deserve this." He pauses, takes a deep breath.

And since Spike can't think of anything to reply to that self-loathing statement, they cover the rest of the way to his crypt in silence. The telly is still there, covered by a thick layer of dust, and Spike lets Andrew help him carry it, more out of the wish to let the little guy feel useful than out of really needing a second hand.

The house is quiet when they return, and after awkwardly installing the telly - for a nerd Andrew is particularly little versed in technical stuff, even though he does offer to summon a demon who knows all about that sort of thing - they plop down on Spike's pallet to watch cartoons quietly until the morning sun starts to rise over the Summer's mansion. Andrew has fallen asleep, and the angle of his head against the wall reveals the curve of his pale neck.

For a moment the vampire watches, imagines his tongue travelling all over that waxy skin, hearing the boy moan in his sleep. He imagines Andrew coming all over himself the moment Spike lets a hand travel beneath his geeky shirt to touch a nipple. Imagines sinking his teeth in to taste of that blood again, that blood that has lost its innocence.

But then he smiles. He smiles and pulls the covers over the boy. Andrew sighs and snuggles deeper between the folds. His camera lies somewhere on the ground beside him, and Spike picks it up, turns it on and focuses it.

Now there is something for posterity.

Spike laughs silently and thinks that there really must be a soul inside of him to be able to feel something, anything, for this lost child.

THE END