Tell Me You Love Me
Part Three....
The car pulled into the gravel and dirt
parking lot of a seedy looking bar
nearly a hundred miles away from Sunny-
dale.
Any other time, Xander would have enjoyed
the opportunity to drive the powerful little
red car that the Scoobies jokingly referred
to as "Giles' Mid Life Crisis Mobile", but
tonight was not the time for casual cruising
with the top down and the sound system
cranked.
He scanned the lot, searching for a particular
black and silver Harley. There were at least
two dozen motorcycles lined up next to each
other...and one all by itself, parked well away
from the others. A loner, like the guy who
rode it.
"Way to go with the symbolism, Spike," he
muttered beneath his breath as he switched
off the engine.
For several minutes he just sat and stared
at the crappy looking little building, knowing
what kind of horror show he'd find inside, and
hoping he could summon up the nerve to
enter.
**Aw, geez..I do NOT want to go in there. Bad
vibes...really bad..**
But he had no choice.
Shaking off the feeling of approaching
disaster and possible death, he stepped
out of the car.
**For Buffy...gotta do it for her..**
Xander forced his feet to start moving quick-
ly, keeping his eyes peeled for 'unfriend-
lies', afraid that if he lost his momentum, he'd
chicken out.
A large silver cross hung around his neck,
hidden beneath his shirt, and he had a stake
concealed in the sleeve of his coat, but
these things were small comfort at the moment.
It was one thing to take on a vampire or
two when you had the comforting presence
of the slayer backing you up. It was quite
another to go blindly waltzing into a tavern
loaded with them all by your lonesome.
Giving himself a mental kick in the ass, he
squared his shoulders and entered the bar.
It was just as bad as he'd imagined it would
be.
Vampires in full game face were sitting around
the tables, talking and laughing. Every stool
at the bar was occupied, and all four pool
tables were in use.
**Shit...they're everywhere...**
He hadn't seen this many vampires in
one place since Graduation day.
A bakers dozen of them were beating up
on a bank of pinball machines lined up
against one wall. There were several
intense card games being played, as
well as darts, checkers, and an arm
wrestling competition that would surely
deprive one of the contestants of an arm.
Music blasted from an old Wurlitzer juke,
and there seemed to be an argument
going on between a couple of members
of the undead club as to exactly which
song would be played next.
Actually, had it not been for the pre-
dilection of the clientele towards violence
and blood letting, it looked like a fun place
to hang out.
It was almost amusing to see vampires
doing ordinary, everyday things...in their
own weird way.
All of them...every last scuzzy one...was
drinking some kind of alcohol. Vampire
waitresses bobbed and weaved around
the crowded bar, looking every bit as pro-
fessional as the ones who worked at the
Bronze, different only in the intimidating
growling and snarling they displayed when-
ever a customer tried to play a little grab-
ass.
Most of the mixed drinks on the trays they
carried had a familiar red tint. A Bloody
Mary was an entirely different beverage in
this joint, and NOT because there was no
celery stalk garnish offered.
Xander had never felt so out of place in his
life, and he wished desperately that he could
be anywhere...ANYWHERE ...else in the
world than where he was.
Back in high school, standing in front of
a class wearing nothing but a jock strap; or
sucking face with an Incan mummy; or sitting
in a steam room with the future entrees at
Tony's Seafood Shack, inhaling fishy steroids
until he grew gills; or in a cage, waiting to
lose his virginity and his head at the same
time.
Shit, he'd even rather be back at dysfunction
junction, sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner
with his entire family after a day spent watch-
ing them drain a bowl of spiked fruit punch and
a keg of beer, while they argued about which
football game to watch.
**No, scratch that last one..I'd much rather be
here..**
Fortunately for him, despite his glaring 'human-
ness', none of the bar's patrons appeared to
notice him.
**Now, let's just keep it that way, shall we?**
His eyes searched the room until they found
the object of their quest sitting at a table by
himself in the farthest corner of the bar. There
was a glass and a bottle on the table in front
of him, and Xander could easily see what
sort of mood he was in. He looked tightly
wound up and hostile, as if he were daring
someone to bother him.
For HIS part, Xander didn't particularly want
to be that someone. When Spike got pissed
off enough, he sometimes forgot about the chip
in his head until after he'd planted his fist in
the face of the person who'd angered him.
"Here goes nothing." Screwing his courage
to the sticking place, he lowered his head,
hoping that if he kept his lack of vampire
features hidden, he might arrive at his des-
tination with all his innards still intact.
But, as HIS luck would ALWAYS have it, a
cold hand clamped down on his shoulder
when he was less than ten feet from his
goal.
**Shit! Shit, shit, shit and double shit!**
"Well, don't YOU look fresh and yummy? And
I haven't eaten in hours."
Xander turned to face his admirer.
The vamp had thin, greasy hair, and a face
that looked like it had been smacked with a
shovel. Flat and upturned, his nose could pass
for a snout, and his yellow eyes bulged
almost out of their sockets, as though he was
suffering from an over active thyroid gland.
He was only medium height, but he had to
go close to three hundred pounds, with a
gut hanging down over his belt.
**Cute...how the hell do they get so fat when
all they eat is blood?**
Trying to look like he wasn't about to crap
his pants, Xander smiled pleasantly. "Hey,
know what? I'll bet there's a snack bar in
this place that has a snack with your name
on it. Why don't you go find it, and stuff
yourself?"
His brain telegraphed an urgent message: WHAT
THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!
HAVE YOU COMPLETELY LOST EVERY ONE
OF YOUR MARBLES?! NEVER, NEVER TAUNT
A HUNGRY VAMPIRE!!
The vamp was no more pleased at his behavior
than he was himself, and it released an impres-
sive growl when Xander tried to disengage his
shoulder from it's grasp.
Painfully tightening his hand on his prospective
meal, the vamp spun Xander around and
lunged at his throat. The thing moved so fast,
that he had no chance to use his stake or fumble
out his cross.
**Well, this is it for me. This is where I die. Good-
bye Anya...sorry, Buffy...**
He yelped with surprise when he felt a hand
grab him by the collar of his coat, jerking
him out of reach of his attacker's fangs.
Spike dragged him a few feet away, then stepped
into the other vampire's path.
"I'll tell you what" he said. "I'm gonna give you
a chance to re-think this. I'll count to three, and
if you're still standing here then I'm-gonna-kill-
you-one-two-three."
Fatty stood his ground for a moment, then
backed off. "Hey, we're good, man." He raised
both hands in a conciliatory gesture. "No prob-
lem. Didn't know he was YOUR dinner. No hard
feelings, huh?"
Spike said nothing, staring the vamp down in
deadly silence.
Xander watched as his would be chow hound
slunk off, heading for the bar. "Thanks."
Spike turned to face him, scowling. "What in
bloody hell are YOU doing here?"
"Um...looking for you. Believe it or not."
Spike continued to glare. "For me?" He
shook his head in disgust. "Well, isn't
that just bloody marvelous?"
Returning to his table, he sat down and
filled his glass. "I just can't win," he mused
bitterly. "Every time I think I've finally
shaken the dust of that shitty little
town off my heels...."
Tilting his head back, he practically
threw the alcohol down his throat.
Knowing that if he waited to be asked
he'd be standing there until Judgement
Day, Xander pulled out a chair and sat
down across the table from the angry
vampire.
"Look, I didn't come here just to piss
you off," he explained. "I've got something
to tell you that I think you'd want to know
about."
"How the hell did you even find me?" Spike
asked, slamming his glass back down on
the table. "This isn't exactly a popular tou-
rist attraction."
Xander hesitated. "I had help."
"From who?"
"From...someone with connections to this
type of place."
"A vampire...with connections...helping
you?" Spike looked doubtful. "Right."
"Yeah, right!" Xander insisted, leveling a
direct gaze at Spike. "Someone who knows
how you operate...where you'd go."
"IS that so?" Spike poured another drink,
then offered the bottle. "And just who would that
be?"
Xander was about to refuse the bottle, then
changed his mind. He had no intention of
drinking from it...God only knew what it
contained...but he figured he should try to keep
Spike from getting too hammered.
"That's not important right now," he said. "I
need to tell you something else first...and
it's not good."
Spike released a short laugh. "It's not good?
When did you ever tell me anything that
WAS good?"
"It's about Buffy." Xander watched Spike's
face for a reaction.
"Buffy?" Spike drained his glass, his features
impassive. "What about her? And, more
to the point, why should I care?"
"Because she's..."
"Did the slayer send you after me? What's
wrong? Something big and scary due to
show in Sunnydale and try to end the world?
Something little Miss I-Don't-Need-Anyone
can't deal with?" Spike reached for the
bottle. "Well, that's just too damn bad. She's
gonna have to figure this one out on her own.
I don't wanna play anymore."
Xander rolled his eyes, sighing. "Cut the crap,
Spike. I know all about your 'thing' with Buffy,
so don't bother trying to cover."
Spike raised icy blue eyes to meet Xander's
gaze. "Just what do you THINK you know?"
"I know that you're in love with her," Xander
shrugged. "But I've known about THAT for
a long time." He met the vampire's glare un-
flinchingly. "I also know that you're...sleep-
ing together..."
He was surprised when Spike's eyes darted
away at these words. "And I know that she loves
you."
Spike stared at the wall for a few seconds,
then looked back at Xander with a bitter smile.
"Well, you're partially right. But she...she
doesn't love me."
"That's not what she told ME." Xander leaned
back in his chair and folded his arms across
his chest.
Spike frowned. "What are you talking about?" he
asked. "What do you mean?"
"I found her in your room on the day you skipped
town," Xander replied. "She was upset and crying,
and when I asked her what was wrong...she told
me the whole sordid tale."
Spike leaned forward. "What did she say?"
"That you left because she wouldn't tell you
what her true feelings for you were. I asked her
what she meant and she said that...she loves
you, she's IN love...with YOU."
The vampire sat back, shaking his head in
disbelief. "You probably misunderstood her.
I don't think..."
Xander cut him off. "I didn't misunderstand any-
thing. She said, and I quote, 'I love him, and I
never told him.' Those are simple words...even
for a simpleton like me."
Spike was silent a moment, trying to process
this information. "But, if it's true...why didn't
she come herself? Why did she send you to
this...this well connected vampire? Why didn't
SHE come?"
"She can't come," Xander said. "And she didn't
send me. This was my own idea."
Spike stared at him. "What the hell do you mean,
she didn't send you?" His voice rose in anger and
volume. "Does she even know you're here?"
"No." Xander shook his head. "She's..."
He stopped when Spike banged one fist
down on the table, making the bottle and
glass clatter.
"Then how do YOU know this is what SHE
wants?" he demanded furiously. "How do
you know she even wants to see me?"
He was almost shouting, and Xander glanced
around uneasily, hoping this little scene wasn't
drawing unwanted attention. "She does," he said
firmly and quietly. "You'll just have to take my
word for it."
"NO!" Spike hit the table again, with the flat of
his hand. "No, I bloody will NOT! If she wants
to talk to me, why doesn't she damn well come
herself?"
Xander's patience ran out. "Because she's in
the hospital!" he said sharply. "Half dead!"
Spike looked at him in shock, all the con-
frontational anger draining out of him. "The
hospital? Why? Why is she in the hospital?
What's wrong?"
Xander took a deep breath, knowing that
things were about to go from bad to worse.
"The other night, she..."
"Is she sick? Did she have an accident?"
Spike's jaw dropped. "She wasn't trying to
drive was she?"
Despite the seriousness of the situation,
Xander was a little amused at the look on
Spike's face. **Yeah...I can see how much
you 'don't' care...**
"Settle down and I'll tell you."
Spike's jaw clenched. "Tell me fast!"
With another deep breath, Xander began
again.
"The other night, she was out on patrol. She
met up with this vampire and...she got hurt."
"Yeah?" Spike was obviously waiting for
something bigger. "Wait...are you telling me
that she fought ONE vampire and got hurt?
Not a whole group of them?"
Xander nodded. "One vampire."
"One ordinary, run of the mill vampire. No special
powers? Magic spells? Hypnosis?"
"I don't think so."
Spike looked pole-axed. "One plain vampire hurt
her?"
"Yeah. One." Xander said. "And he didn't just
hurt her. He worked her over badly enough
to put her in the hospital."
"What did he do to her?" Spike's voice was low
with suppressed rage. Someone was gonna pay
for this...
"A few minor things. You know...the kind of stuff
she usually just shakes right off. But...he also
hit her across the back of the head with some-
thing...a piece of metal pipe, maybe..."
Feeling shaky, Xander grabbed the bottle off
the table and took a long swallow, no longer
caring about the contents.
"It...it put her into a coma," he went on. "And
she's not waking up."
The alcohol burned a path down his throat and
into his stomach, where it sloshed around
unpleasantly. He set the bottle down before he
continued.
"The doctors aren't sounding very optimistic. If
she doesn't wake up soon, they might have to
operate. Brain surgery. It's risky...and she's
in no shape for it."
Spike rubbed his eyes, then lowered his clenched
fists to the table. "Wait a minute," he said trying
to clarify things in his own mind. "I've seen her
take on ten vampires without even breaking a nail! How
the hell did this one manage to hurt her so badly?"
Knowing he had to get Spike on the road soon,
Xander decided to be brutally frank. "Because
ever since YOU disappeared she's been skidding
downhill. She doesn't train, she hardly eats or
sleeps, and when she fights...she's making mis-
takes that she can't afford to make. It's almost
like she's trying to..."
He couldn't say it, so Spike finished the sentence
for him. "Let herself get killed."
"Yes." Xander pressed his palms down on the
table to keep his hands from shaking. "That's
why I came here looking for you. We all thought
that...we hoped...that if you came back, maybe
you could get through to her. If she just somehow
knows you're there, then..."
He stopped and took a shuddering breath, re-
leasing it slowly. "I don't know," he added. "It
might not even make a difference at this point."
"Christ!" Spike said harshly, jumping to his
feet so violently that the chair toppled over
backwards. Without another word, he headed
for the door, shoving vampires roughly out of
his way.
Xander followed immediately, just in case
his previous close encounter saw him alone
and decided to take another crack at him.
By the time he was out the door, Spike was
already swinging one leg over the saddle of
his motorcycle. Xander had to move fast to
catch up with him.
As he approached, Spike flung his head up
and glared at him in fury. "Where the hell
were YOU when this happened to her?"
Xander stopped in his tracks, not knowing
how to respond to Spike's implication. "I...I
didn't know..."
Spike just steam-rolled right over him. "She's
been falling apart for days, you said. FOR
DAYS! So...where were you? And where
the hell was her BLOODY WATCHER? Having
tea, with his nose buried in a book?"
Xander had no idea what to say. The galling
truth was that Spike was right. They all
should have seen it coming, him especially.
He had been the one to find her in tears and
despair, the one she'd confided her unhappiness
in...and he had failed her.
They had all failed her...and now Buffy was
paying for it.
"Why in bloody hell did you let her go out alone?"
"She wasn't alone." Xander seized on the ques-
tion as a possible excuse, then gave it a stupid
answer. "Willow was there."
The moment the words passed his lips, he
wished he could take them back. He knew
exactly what was coming. No one dished out
sarcasm like Spike.
"Ohhh...Willow was there," Spike said, true to
form. "Well, why didn't you say so? Willow is
SO good in a fight! Thank goodness she was
there or something BAD might have happened!"
Xander's face turned red under the lash of
Spike's words. "All right...I get your..."
"You shouldn't have let her go out AT ALL,
you idiot!" Spike snapped.
Now, Xander felt himself becoming a little
angry as well. "Right!" he said hotly. "Have
you EVER tried to stop Buffy from doing
something....especially when it comes
to slaying? What were we supposed to do?"
Inwardly, he cringed. **Cop out a little more,
big mouth...**
"EVERYTHING!" Spike shouted. "Every-
thing you could do, up to and including
handcuffing her to her bed frame!" He
reached into his pocket, digging for his
keys. "THAT...is what you were supposed
to do!"
As he kick started the motorcycle, Xander
could hear him muttering to himself.
"Hang on, baby. I'm coming. You hang on
for me."
The engine fired up with a roar, and Xander
had to step back quickly as Spike left the
parking lot with a spray of dirt and gravel,
hitting the highway with the throttle wide open.
He watched the bike's tail lights disappear into
the dark, then returned to the BMW, and
keyed the ignotion.
**Okay, God...please....please just keep her
alive until he gets there...and let him be able
to help her....cause he's our last hope.**
With a look of grim determination, he
threw the car into gear, then slammed his
foot down on the accelerator and headed
back to Sunnydale
TBC.....
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