Standard disclaimers apply.
In which Spike comes to town a little earlier and Spander (eventually) ensues.
If asked even a minute before, Xander woud have said that Buffy randomly deciding to do a little dirty dancing with him was of the Good. Like the really, dear God yes, good. Apparently you could change you mind a lot in the minute where something normally reserved for showers and really boring math classes became a reality. This was of the Messed Up.
"Did I ever thank you for saving my life?" Shimmying her ass up against him and was that what this was about, gratitude?
"Um, no." But she wasn't looking back at him, so he followed her gaze up to the balcony where Deadboy had turned away with an expression of pain and was leaving.
And just like that, show's over and and she turned cold. "Don't you wish-"
"Hey, does anyone have a phone? There's some guy out in the alley biting on a girl's neck!"
Crap, guess it's slay now, figure out what Buffy was possessed by later. Xander was reaching in his pocket for a stake and had taken a step towards the back door when he realized the Designated Slayer wasn't moving.
"I wonder why people wander into alleys to begin with?" She turned towards the bar, away from the exit. "Can't save them from themselves, right?"
Oh crap, really bad possession. Had Buffy visited a zoo in LA?
Xander considered going after her and arguing for a split second before realizing that his original thought was the right one with or without her. He hit the door running.
Buffy probably would have distracted the vamp with a witty remark and showed off some fancy kicks before elegantly staking him. Xander had to settle for yanking him off of his victim and pushing her towards the still open door before the annoyed undead grabbed him and shoved him up against the wall. "Wow, they really are lining up to be eaten around here. Fine by-"
Luckily if there was one slaying tactic Xander had mastered in the last year it was getting the stake in the right place and letting the vamp's momentum do the work for him. Some might think that it was a dangerous tactic, but it's not like he used it until the point where he was about to be lunch anyway. And the cloud of dust he was currently choking on wasn't going to tell anyone about his lack of witty remarks, right?
"Not bad for an amature," the low, accented voice was accompanied by a brief golf clap. Xander started to raise his stake again, but saw only a rush of black and white before he was pressed back against the alley wall, held casually by one hand on his shoulder while the new vamp twirled the hand carved weapon between his fingers.
(Crap, I knew vamps were fast, but this guy is something else...)
"Nice workmanship on the stake too." Now that he had a closeup view, Xander was first caught by the shock of platinum hair (the undead bleach?) then by how pale he looked even for a member of the Living Disabled. Maybe it was the contrast with all the black he wore. The vampire brought the weapon closer to his ridged face, and sniffed, then his accent shifted from what Xander had been mentally identifying as streetwise-Giles to more of a faux cowboy. "Nothin' like a good piece of hickory."
Apparently bully related conditioning made Xander's mouth automatically run when pinned to walls. "I'm not sure if I'm more concerned by the scent identification of woods or a bloodsucking Clint Eastwood fan."
Bleach-vamp just laughed and tucked the stake away somewhere under the long leather coat he was wearing. (Wow, that's nice, wonder if Buffy can convince him to take it off before she stakes him so it doesn't dust...) Then he turned the full attention of those creepy yellow eyes on the boy he was holding with casual strength.
"Now entertaining as this is, I wanted a preview of the Slayer's moves. And unless they've changed the entrance requirements dramatically since I fought my last one, that's not you."
Xander tried to cover his panic at the implication that the distinctly non-dusted vamp had fought more than one Slayer in the past. "Well, you know how it goes with classic single sex institutions, the ACLU gets involved and it all ends up in court and then- Urk!"
"Funny, but not telling me what I need to know." The hand on his shoulder moved not so subtley to his throat and whether that was a quirk of a smile at his joke or a deliberate flash of fang it was sufficiently intimidating. "Slayer was in the club, yeah? But you come out here with a well worn stake. What are you, the bleeding Slayer's Auxilliary? Way too young to be part of the Wanker's Council, that's certain."
Probably shouldn't let him know the Slayer was possessed, and boy Xander hoped he lived long enough to talk to Giles about that. "I've been holding out for The Three Stake-ateers as a name, but yeah, we're friends. Figured one vamp that was cliche enough to bite girls in dark alleys didn't need the Buffster." And then he demonstrated that he really didn't know when to shut up. "Shouldn't you be avoiding Slayers, anyway? If you have a death wish, I hear they do sunrise cruises at the Marina..."
Another laugh even as the grip on his throat tightened slightly. "Oh, I've got a wish for death, pet, just not my own. Come to Sunny-hell to get my hat trick, then it's drinks all around for Ol' Spike, innit?" (Hat trick? Drinks? Spike? Can I buy a vowel please? But hey, 'Sunny-hell' cause it's the hellsmouth! I'll have to use that one.) "Now the night isn't completely wasted, cause if you and the Slayer are mates, you can pass a message along, yeah?" The demonic face was suddenly much closer to his own and he was getting sniffed. "Then again, you don't neccassarily need to be breathing to pass it, do ya?"
At that moment, Xander Harris wished with all his heart and soul to be interupted by a witty quip in a female voice. So of course, the fates took the oppertunity to demonstrate just how much they hated the Harris clan.
"The mice have lived too long in the pet store and don't know to fear the smell of a cat. It makes them dull to hunt and they don't squeek at all prettily."
(No, you stupid universe, witty quip, not sureal non-sequitor!)
"Dru, love!" Xander felt himself yanked to the other end of alley towards a thin, dark haired woman in an old fashioned dress. "Princess, why are you out alone, this town is dangerous until I've killed the Slayer! I was going to bring someone home for you in case you were hungry." The vamp had dropped out of gameface (holy crap, he's beautiful) and his cocky, dangerous voice was suddenly so gentle that the idea of bringing someone back to a lair to be eaten seemed terribly sweet (ladies and gentlemen, I have lost it).
"Miss Edith wanted to have a tea party and none of the minions were thirsty, so we came looking for guests..." The woman displayed an old and broken doll then cuddled it mournfully.
Xander felt the vamp's hand clench in anger, and was greatful the grip had shifted back to his arm for dragging, but his tone remained gentle. "Well, when we get back you can point out which ones were so rude to Miss Edith and then let you walk unescorted, and I'll discuss with them how gentlemen should treat two such fine ladies as yourselves, yeah?"
The woman (vamp?) clapped her hands in childish delight and addressed the doll. "Did you hear? Dear Spike will get us guests for our tea party and he knows how to be sure they don't leave early!" Her eyes settled for the first time on Xander. "Will the kitten come for tea with us too?"
(Oh no, please no crazy lady tea parties for the Xan Man!)
Bleach-vamp (Spike?) looked at him as well and for a moment thoughts of minions and tea were pushed out of his head by the crystal blue those eyes took on in human guise. "Kitten, eh luv? He's the Slayer's boy, was just trying to decide whether to kill 'em, turn 'em or send 'em breathing."
"And for those keeping count, we have one vote for 'breathing' here!" Did Buffy really just go on with her evening? Had she not even noticed him not coming back yet? (You better be possessed, Buff, or we are having some serious words.)
"Not a democracy, Stake-ateer," but there was a hint of a laugh in the voice even as he was shaken. "Princess, do you want to drain him, you need to keep up your strength. He smells nice and fresh, I'm sure he's a nummy treat." And again with the insanity, because the wheedling, hopeful tone almost made Xander hope the nice lady would consent to kill him for her own good. (I smell fresh? That better not be a virginity crack like with the bug teacher...)
"Oh no, no draining!" She tapped Spike sharply on the nose, startling a strangled giggle from his captive. "The kitten hasn't finished his cream yet!"
(Er, what?) The vamp eyed him apraisingly. "Hasn't he, luv?"
"No, no, he's so much more to drink before he's ripe, and if you pluck a kitten too early, his armor shan't fit yet and the jam will be sour."
(... uh... er...) "Is it possible to sprain your brain?" That was his voice so Xander supposed he had said it.
Spike just chuckled. "Sees things, my Dark Plum does. Apparently fancies you being around a bit longer, so you get to deliver the message alive and Dru and I will find a snack elsewhere." (Oh, good. No wait, bad! Vampires killing people is bad! Even if it's not me.) "Now you tell your pal and the rest of her Slayer's Auxilliary that I dropped by, and she needs to get her rest and be in tip top shape tomorrow night, yeah?"
"Um, what's happening tomorrow night?"
The vamp grinned happily and clapped Xander on the shoulder. "Well, that's when I'm gonna kill her, innit?" And the two were gone is a swirl of silk and leather, leaving the human standing in the alley in shock.
(I gotta get to Giles.)