Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or any of it's associated characters...my imagination, however, has declared itself an independant country where disturbing things such as this fic are acceptable...

Hi, so...first Buffy Fandom Ficlet. A sad little idea I got while looking out the window of a train the other day...

Enjoy.


Mortal After All

~)0(~

The ache in his dead heart was nearly more than he could bear.

Sure, they'd had their fair share of clashes, verbal and physical, over god knows however many unimportant things but…hell, he'd never hated him. Not even that one time the bloody bugger had poured Holy Water into his underwear drawer as revenge for –he sniggered inappropriately at the memory- well, that one time he may or may not have sent a certain redheaded witch a covert snap of one Mr Harris in the shower…

Singing into a loofa with his trusty pink bath-duck also sharing a solo… The Witch still couldn't look at the boy straight without gigglin'.

God, what he wouldn't give for that flesh-searing feeling down south right about now…a quick shower, some mild chasing and tackling of said Mr Harris and things would go back to normal; but that would never happen again… What he wouldn't give not to be the one to tell the blonde bit –who had lost so much already- that one of her closest friends had just-…just been-… He sighed.

If only there was some way to turn back time…to erase the horrifying visions of blood and gore, the way the barely-old-enough-to-drive body fell to the ground, childish lips parted in a silent scream that would never be heard over the roar of his demonic, would-be, murderers…

But he knew this wishing was fruitless. What has been seen, can never be unseen… and that was one memory that would stay with him through eternity…as the first time such a depraved death, such agony, had failed to bring him pleasure.

Hands distractedly raked through the soft floppy dark hair, the skin was cool and pale in comparison to his own, dead flesh; worrying, it would not be much longer, no matter how strong-willed the kid was.

Under his comforting hands, the dark-haired teen gurgled desperately and jack-knifed in his last few moments, blood flecking nearly-white lips…it wouldn't be long now, just a handful of moments, or maybe a loose collection of seconds considering how pasty the creampuff was getting'…

He shushed the teen, murmuring something soothing that he vaguely half-remembered his mother saying when he was little and taken ill. He didn't know if it would help…but it was all he could offer, the kid was nearly gone; blood was all over the place, and he could feel it clotting down his own shirt…

Of course, there were a fair amount of demon parts littered around the place as well…but frankly, they'd had it coming, what with the munching on all the little bits; blasted Krugnali demons and their strange fetishes for children's flesh… Bastards had taken out an entire Kindergarten before they'd tracked them down at a second, almost too-late…

Some escaped, others…didn't.

Small problem was, they weren't exactly adverse to a quick bite of teenager either, which had meant Xander had been endangered the second they'd leapt through the window in an overly dramatic fashion that wouldn't have looked out of place in a low-rate, low-budget, made-for-TV-movie.

Of course, he should have known better. After all, this was almost as bad as trying to bite your Sire for your first feed… The onus for this mistake rested solely on his shoulders; this was his fault, his-…his kill… to put it in the repulsively truthful fashion. And for the first time, Spike shuddered at the thought of those two words. Never before had the idea of death sickened him to this extent…

"S-S-Spike? H-h-hurts….pl-please…" The Vampire jerked slightly at the sound of a weak, raspy voice and the accompanying shudder, "Please what, darlin'? Oh…" his eyes widened, "Look, as much as we've had our spats I couldn't-… you know I can't, and it's not just the bloody chip." He said, squeezing the shoulder and holding the teen closer.

Trembling fingers reached up to him, pleading… wait, no… something different; the crimson coated digits swiped across his lips deliberately, coating them with a distinctive, tangy liquid that somehow seemed bitter in this moment. His eyes widened, "Now Pet, you know what you'd be giving up if I did that, right?" he said very slowly, hoping this was just some last-ditch idiot idea that the other would give up on in his final moments, better now than to realise it in say, a few dozen centuries or so…?

"W-want…pl-please, be m-more useful…pl-please Spike?" Xander whispered up at him, large eyes pleading in their hazed state. Spike was taken aback, never before had the teen ever seemed to give a damn that he was the only non-powered person on the Slayerette team… he just lived on, fought and slayed, cracked awful jokes, was hailed as the bringer of coffee and doughnuts and generally wore tacky, sometimes horrific headache-inducing shirts, each and every day without heed. "What's wrong with being King of Doughnuts, pet?" he smiled, trying to distract, already the breathing was labouring…

"D-don't ch-change the sub- subject Spike, j-just do th-this f…for me, please? M-make me useful…" the plea seemed to strike at his deadened heart… "Only if you're sure this is what you want, pet…Can't just go doin' it for no reason at all, or the wrong one, answer me…is this what you want?" he stared straight into the other's eyes, searching deep for deceit as his tongue flicked out and swiped the blood from his lips; barely a hint, but enough to suffice the tradition of first taste.

Xander nodded as best he was able, and arched his neck up for the other…who laughed and patted the skin, choosing instead to lick at the boy's blood that was lathering his own hands, where they pressed firmly against the numerous wounds in the nearly-shredded torso. "Just a sec, love, not enough in you yet for that kinda' thing…'ere, this should perk you up enough…" he said, biting deeply into his own wrist and facing the wound downward, so it poured into the slightly parted lips…

At first, there was a mild gurgle as the other failed to swallow correctly, understandable in the situation…and then, as if by some miracle, he seemed to calm. The excessive bleeding slowed to nothing, though the wounds had yet to heal… "I'll take my part then, now, pet," he smiled and arced his fangs straight into the pale neck inches from his face and proffered in supplication; Xander held himself rigid, but then slowly released the tension one muscle at a time, it seemed, and it was done. Silence reigned.

There was a moment when all control was lost as he thrashed about wildly, Spike holding him tenderly as all Sires do with their Chosen Fledglings, as his body slowly died a mortal death…

With a last convulsion, the teen fell limp. Spike laid him carefully on the floor, on one of those little mats the day-care people always had for rugrat nap-time…it was a scintillating neon pink, Xander had a shirt of that exact colour… he mused and grinned, the other would be pleased.

Now, he frowned, what to tell the Blonde Slayer…?

~)0(~

In the darkness, he waited.

One hand slowly straying to touch the soft dark hair of very first Childe, his very own after all this time… Sure, Buffy was going to kick his ass, and then Angel might have a bloody good go…then the Slayer again before Witchy-poo and that tight-ass Watcher jumped in but, at the very least, Angel would acknowledge the bloodline. They'd also have to concede that it was the only possible course of action…obviously…

Wounds slowly slid shut, a soft cloth wiped away the blood… Hmm, speaking of blood, someone was going to be very hungry when they awoke for their first feed; might need a few things. Spike grinned maliciously, might just need to go 'shopping'…

~)0(~

The petrified screams of a mortal nearby awoke the searing hunger for the blood he could hear pounding in her veins, and yet it was the cool voice calling to him that finally snapped him from the endless void of darkness. "Xander, c'mon pet, time to wake up…I've got breakfast…" cooed the voice of his Sire.

Demonic eyes snapped open and glanced about for a fleeting second before rising swiftly to bow before his Sire, who graciously gestured to the female bound at the other end of the room; petite, redhead, looked familiar… ah well… he supposed if he begged Spike would let him keep her, but only if he agreed to call her, 'Breakfast'.

And just that thought sent chills down his spine, he approached her with unsteady arrogance and felt his fangs descend; no sense in waiting…

And she began to scream.

~)0(~

Spike looked on proudly as Xander took his first bite, first feed…first of so many things he would show the boy. But for now, it was enough to revel in the exciting new achievements of his Childe… He was far more than what he had been, would never again be called the Lord of Nothin'-Doin' or be hailed as the Bringer of Coffee and Doughnuts… no, he was so much more than that.

He was strong.

He was fast.

He was Vampire of the purest lineage…and he was Spike's Childe.

But most of all, the one thing that drew all this greatness together in a tight little knot was a simple fact that brought a small smile to Spike's lips as he mused upon it…

Xander was Mortal No Longer; and it suited him.


The End.


Alright, truth time...how did you find the fic.

Never written/seen from Spike's perspective on things before, I guessed at the words/endearments 'bit', 'pet' and 'darlin' '.

Review if you will. I rather like the idea of this fic -of course, I may be biased slightly.

~*SailorSilvanesti/Phoenix Fire*~