Irony
Rated ADULT
Warnings: Hyena!Xander, Dominance battle, Slash
beta'ed by Velvet Virago
Part One
I remembered waking up and thinking I was in a hospital, but the bed I was laying on was more than even hospital uncomfortable, it was prison cell uncomfortable. Not that I knew anything about prison cells, except of course of a couple nights in the brig for punching a superior…that was straight from my soldier memories. Then the two lab coats came. “The demonic traits exhibit atypically blah blah blah,” offered Dr. Pencil Neck.
“We had thought to bypass examining this target, believing him to be unaffected by aberrant genes yadda yadda,” replied Dr. Too Many Ho-Ho’s
It took me a while to remember, to overcome the effects of the tranquilizer dart, to figure out what I’d been doing that could have attracted the attention of the Initiative. Luckily, I had the time. Hours strapped to a table and now days sitting in a cell staring at the same four walls, at least when they weren’t poking, prodding, sticking, pulling, or burning me. Oh yeah, I remembered and made my little mental hit list. People in white were at the top followed by Riley and then Spike.
Sitting in the white room watching the white coated scientists discuss me as if I were nothing more than an animal to be dissected, I just couldn’t miss the irony. That’s right, irony. Everyone thought I slept through class, and maybe I did my time desk-drooling with the best of them, but I occasionally listened. Irony: when one takes an action and then gets the opposite of what one intends or expects. Woo Hoo—2 points for the Giles impression.
Yep, irony. I still remembered the night in the hyena house, the demon being pulled from my body, the sight of Willow with that painted geek holding a knife to her throat trying to prove his worthiness to carry the hyena spirit. Dr. Nutso thought he could attract the demonic hyena spirit by committing violence. Instead, the sight of my Willow in danger had made me rage and feel such a desire to kill the bastard that the hyena had been sucked right back into me.
And Buffy. Sweet girl, not always the brightest. She’d killed Dr. Nutso thinking to save us all. Instead, by the time I figured out that the laughing barks weren’t memories, the one human who would have taken the spirit off my hands had already passed through various digestive tracts on the way to rejoining the natural world in the form of hyena poo.
And then the hyena itself. It thought it was getting some blood-thirsty fighter who would feed its appetite. Instead it got stuck in the Zeppo, the loser, the “would you like that pizza to go ma’am” moron. And without a pack to back it, encourage it, call it up, it just cowered in a corner of my mind popping up at inconvenient times.
Of course, the scientists were discussing their own form of irony out there on the other side of security glass where people were allowed simple things like clothes. Silly me, I thought gym class with Larry had provided enough humiliation in my life, but no, the universe had to stick me in a cage naked as fully dressed soldiers marched by. Okay, the soldiers did the actual sticking, but the universe in general had never gone out of its way to help me in any way, shape or form.
Truthfully I’d only partially listened. The first day I clung to every word like a lifeline, but I’d discovered that understanding what they planned for the day’s testing just made things worse, so I tended to create my own little imaginary dramas. Right now I had just finished a dialogue where Dr. Pimples confesses his love for Dr. Pencil Neck right before Asshole Riley walks in on them making out.
I was doing a pretty good job of amusing myself until I heard Willow’s name. Well, Willow’s and Tara’s actually. Riley with his famous reports had told them that the girls were witches and were heading out for a coven retreat. That had the scientists getting all steamy in the underpants, and ew, really need a new metaphor for that. There would be no steamy underpants around his girls, unless they were mine. And my underpants hadn’t seriously steamed for anyone since Faith. Well, sort of. Anya certainly got the equipment moving even if the lust didn’t extend beyond my cock. Anyway, the Initiative thought to grab the girls so that it would take Buffy a week or so to notice them gone.
I tried not to make a face at that news. Damn this electrified cage that kept me from ripping their heads off. Usually I frown on the whole violence thing, but a couple of days of electroshock, starvation, experiments, and nakedness left me feeling a little grouchy. Damn scientists who thought they could diagram and count and measure everything. They wanted to get my Willow and her Tara and cut them apart to measure their magic, maybe force them to work for the Initiative or maybe just kill them because they’re all cowards down deep. And damn vampires in general. My capture was his fault. Why did Buffy always ask me to patrol with Spike? Most of the time I blamed this whole mess on the Initiative, but when I got bored, Spike and Buffy took their fair share of the blame too.
Yep, damn Buffy with her “Please Xander, you don’t know how hard it is to patrol with both Riley and Spike. Just go with the Bleached Wonder and remind him that if he does anything he doesn’t get paid and he’ll have Mr. Pointy to deal with.”
And damn Spike. When the Initiative soldiers had shown up, all I had to do was play it cool. Yeah, Spike would get caught, but I’d faked hateful for so long it should have been second nature. Fangless, Impotent One, Willie Wanna Bite, I had the names down. I should have been able to fling off an insult and walk away, or run away and get Buffy. That would have been the smart move, but no one ever accused me of being smart. Well, this teacher in the third grade did once, but I proved him wrong by sticking chalk up my nose.
Anyway, what did I do? Did I run for help? Did I call Buffy? Nope. I went all green-eyed growly and tried to take out the whole damn unit by myself. I’ve had this discussion with my hyena friend many times. Yes, Spike is one strong bastard who’s survived more than most vampires ever will before turning to dust. But Spike hates me, which is fine with me because it makes it easier to pretend to hate him. But, and this is a big but, I’m going to have trouble convincing anyone that I hate Spike after I went all protective over him. I’m pretty sure I killed one of the soldiers, not that I’m having a case of the guilts. I’m having trouble even caring. In fact, the hyena is practically bouncing over the fact and my soldier memories are all stoic about known risks and dying in the line of duty.
But none of this helps me now. Now I’m sitting on the floor naked, listening to two Mengele wanna-be’s talk about Willow and Tara like their new prized heifers about to be brought to the farm. Spike obviously had his own accommodations down here somewhere, unless the scientists had dusted him, and I could hear myself growl at that thought. Oh great, I just gave the scientists another happy as they got to write down another aberrant behavior. Humans don’t growl, I reminded myself, but the hunger and the fear and the knowledge that I had failed Spike made it difficult not to growl. Made it difficult not to throw myself against that electrified glass, and you would think I would be better at repressing after all these years of practice, but nope.
Here comes Ms. Piggy right on cue. I refuse to do it. Hunger and my hyena see the piglet that’s been lowered into my cell as one big hot dog on legs, but I remember the last time I did that, and I never quite got over it. Well, that and the fact that the pack had gone from the school mascot to the principal. I still had trouble eating bacon without thinking of Mr. Flutie, so I really wasn’t eating another pig no matter how hungry I got or how many scientists wanted to observe my “aberrant behavior.”
When the scientists finally gave up and used another tranq dart to send me to la-la land and retrieve the pig, I had reached a breaking point. I wanted to kill them was my last thought as I sunk into darkness.
Part 2
“Mornin’ whelp,” came a familiar voice, and for a minute I thought I had dreamed the whole getting captured, attacking the soldiers and being experimented on until my skin hurt thing, but when I opened my eyes I saw white. Just white. I closed my eyes again.
“Ya goin’ ta lay there all day?”
“Yep,” I answered. Since I was still naked, I was guessing Spike was naked, and I was so not ready to deal with that yet. He answered with a snort, and I really wished that the hyena gave me some cool power like eyes in the back of my head so I could see his expression. Then again, considering he had a full view of my backside, maybe I didn’t want to see his expression. After all, I’m the loser, the townie, the low-status male at the bottom of the pack, so as long as I kept my eyes closed and didn’t look, I could pretend that the bleached on just might want to take this opportunity to sneak a look. Lord knows I wanted to. Just didn’t have the balls to do it, not worth the risk of seeing Spike utterly disinterested.
The silence had become familiar and mind numbing before the sound of metal sliding over metal and a familiar squealing noise interrupted my whole fantasy where I wasn’t completely fucking stupid and where I hadn’t gotten captured just to die next to Spike while soldiers plotted against the girls.
“Bloody hell, fresher than usual this time,” Spike said with amusement as the sound of piggy feet scrambling over concrete interrupted my doing of nothing. When the pig bumped into me, I scooted closer to the wall, turning on my side so that I took up less floor space.
“Probably for me,” I finally said as the pig noises echoes off bare walls and left my predator spirit crying for meat. How long had it been since I had food, anyway? A day? Two days? Four days? Honestly I had the hyena habit of eating any time food was available, and right now my stomach had passed empty, stomach-cramp hungry, and nauseous with hunger. I had the weak-legged hunger that left the hyena demanding some pork on the hoof.
“What? You into eatin’ your meat rare these days?” Spike asked with a derisive snort, and I decided that was it. I would lay here and ignore the pig that smelled of food and ignore the vampire that smelled of leather and smoke even now and quietly die. Well, unless the Initiative had more tests in which case I would lay here until they drugged me, dragged me out, and tortured me. The dying of starvation thing actually sounded pretty damn good considering the alternative.
“No, that would be why I’m ignoring it…if I was into eating it, I’d eat it, which I’m not, so I’m ignoring it.” I scooted closer to the wall so that Spike wouldn’t see my ‘oh shit’ face. Yeah, I know when I’m babbling and sounding like a complete idiot, I’m just genetically incapable of stopping myself. Another snort suggested that Spike found my humiliation amusing.
“Right,” Spike said in a tone that sounded like he was talking to the local idiot at the nutso farm. Of course, I have a secret crush on Spike, so I think that qualifies me for the nutso farm. “So why assume the pig’s for you?” I ignored the sound of little pig feet scrambling and the increased volume as the pig screams started coming from somewhere above me. Either Spike had picked up the pig, or the thing was able to levitate. Hey, pigs could be flying right now, but I wasn’t going to check considering that Spike holding a pig wouldn’t have any hands free to cover parts that I really didn’t want to see. At least, I didn’t want to see them under these conditions.
“They’ve been dropping pigs in my cage for a while now,” I finally answered as the pig gave one final shriek and then the sucking noises started. “Okay, that’s just ew.” Unfortunately for me, the hyena had another thought, and I could hear her scrambling toward the surface, demanding survival, demanding meat. The sucking sounds stopped and a heavy thud told me that Spike had finished dinner.
“Right, so why’d they nab you anyway?”
“Oh, I don’t know…maybe because I’m stuck hanging out with a vampire all day.”
“Harris, you bloody stink at lying. So, want to take another shot at it?”
“Or what? You gonna torture the information out of me pig-breath?”
“When I get this chip out…”
“Oh, here comes the death and mayhem speech again. Let’s see. Revenge, kill, torture, blah, blah, blah. Heard it before oh castrated one.” I knew that I had struck a nerve when Spike hissed, but this wasn’t the time for big secret revelations ala Jerry Springer. Of course, I was also taking out my own frustration since the smell of fresh blood had my hyena fairly screaming.
“What bug crawled up your arse and died, Harris?”
“Ask the white coats. They’ve jammed so much stuff into me that I’m sure they’re familiar with every inch. Even inches I’m not familiar with.”
“Wot the…” I expected more Spike-style profanity, namely words I didn’t understand spat out in an accent thickened by anger. Instead a hand landed on my naked arm, and funny, I’d always expected his hand to be cold, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t really anything, just a pressure pulling me away from the wall. I tried to ignore him and stay in my corner, but hey, vamp strength versus the Zeppo, and vamp strength won.
I found myself forcibly turned so that I found myself eye level with his family jewels as he squatted next to me. Okay time to find something else to stare at. The pig was an obvious choice since my own hunger could drown any insipid lust the might leave me humiliated in the most personal of ways. I really blame the hyena for the gay thing. Of course I kinda had the hots for Angel before the hyena, but boy, once I got to know the brooding bastard, that crush cleared right up and allowed me to return to the happy land of denial. The hyena and her attraction to Spike—not so easy to clear up. If Angel was that weird craving for bananas and peanut butter, Spike was…chocolate induced acne or that really bad foot fungus I got off the locker room showers. Hard to get over and annoying as hell.
“Wow…I always thought you’d be a messy eater,” I commented as I examined the two small puncture wounds on the silent pig. Now that Spike had killed it, would it really be the same thing? I mean eating dead pig was closer to eating hot dogs that to eating a live squealing animal….right? Damn, losing focus because Spike just said something I totally missed.
“Well?” he demanded.
“Well what?” I tore my eyes from the pig and looked at Spike’s eyes. Spike’s blue eyes. Spike’s crystal eyes, Spike’s brilliantly sparkling blue crystal eyes, and oh god time to look at the pig again.
“Don’t bloody ignore me ya little bastard. I asked what the hell is up with you. You’re not smellin’ right and you look ready to tear that pig apart. Not to mention the fact that you’re here at all. So whatever is goin’ on you’d better bloody well tell me or I’ll find a way to make you sorry.”
“I’m already sorry; I’m stuck with you,” I quipped as I pulled back on my arm, but Spike didn’t let go. I just earned myself a sore arm, and from Spike’s grimace, gave him a headache.
“Start talkin’.” This time Spike narrowed his eyes and flashed me the yellow, which was far less interesting than other things Spike was flashing right now, but I was just not going to look…much. And geez, was that normal what with the skin going all the way to the end like that?
“Make me.” I had all of two seconds to consider my mistake before Spike started singing at the top of his lungs. He started singing with great relish and absolutely no talent. I’d heard Spike sing in the shower, so I knew damn well he could carry a tune, but from his current performance, I wouldn’t have gotten anyone else to believe me. I could hear loud sounds from other cages as demons protested this new torture, but I just focused my eyes on the pig and tried to ignore him. The whole ignoring Spike thing? It doesn’t work. It never works. I’ve never seen anyone so impossible to ignore. He just added dancing to his act, pulling me along so that we became like two naked idiots locked in a cage and dancing. Yeah, not so good with similes; I do much better with irony.
“Spike, stop it,” I snarled, and he ignored me. “Spike!” I wrenched my arm away, but I only succeeded in pulling Spike with me so that we were now chest to chest, and no, that wasn’t intentional.
“Havin’ a problem there, Harris?” Spike whispered in my ear as he looked down toward my cock, and between the exhaustion and the hunger and the fear, I’m man enough to admit that I might have had a small problem, not that I’m small because I’m not. Anya is very appreciative of my equipment; she called me a Viking once, and I’m thinking that’s a compliment. Unless of course she mean a Viking in winter with all that cold and the whole shrivelage factor, but I’m assuming she meant Viking in the big manly impressive Thor kind of Viking way. I hope. “Bloody hell, you really do have a problem there,” Spike said as my cock twitched and struggled to react.
“Getting a little personal, Spike. You want to back off a bit before I give you a problem because the chip, that’s a one-way deal. I can still hurt you just fine.” I find when all else fails, insulting myself and threatening the vamp are the two best diversions.
“Say that again.” Spike tilted his head so that we were face to face.
“Chip no workee on me, so back off or I’ll hurt you. What? Are you going deaf now? “Cause I’m thinking you already have enough problems.”
“Bloody hell, you’re soddin’ starving.” Spike’s sudden expression of something resembling concern caught me so off guard I couldn’t quite make my tongue work again.
“Um, huh?” Yep, the Xan-man is as articulate as ever.
“Can smell the sour stomach on ya. You need food.” Spike let go of my arm and reached down for the pig as he dug fingers into the little piggy body and pulled the skin back. My eyes said ewwwwwwwww, but my stomach growled in anticipation. I think it was my stomach anyway. Spike suddenly turned and gave me a sharp look, so the growl might have been an actual growl type growl.
“Losin’ your mind there Harris,” Spike shoved a piece of meat at me, a huge chunk of whitish flesh clinging to a single rib bone, and I had to grab my hands to keep from ripping it from Spike.
“Haven’t lost enough of it to actually eat that though,” I pointed out.
“You have to eat something, you’re bloody starving to death. How long’s it been since you ate?”
“Not really sure what with the long periods of unconsciousness,” I conceded as I watched that meat still held in Spike hands. No gore, no blood, no mess, just thick, rich-looking meat. I could almost taste it.
“Yeah, well this is a mite undercooked, but the worst you’ll get is worms, and we can worry about those later. So stop being a git and eat the damn food.”
“Spike, so not a good idea. Me and pig meat—not a good combination,” I said even as I felt my hyena surge forward so strongly that I physically rocked forward.
“Bloody hell, what’s wrong with your eyes?” Oh shit, that little bitch had slipped out. Babble and distract…babble and distract.
“Nothing, they’re just eyes what with the being round and brown and fitting in the head.” Oh shit, he was looking at me like I’d just grown a second head. Just go back to ignoring me like a good little vamp, I prayed as I tried to breath deeply enough to shove the hyena back down into my psyche.
“They’re not bloody human mate. When did you get a demon upgrade?”
“It’s not a demon,” I vehemently insisted about two seconds before my brain pointed out that saying that just confirmed I had something in me. It so sucks being slow.
“Well it’s bloody well not human. Never seen human eyes start glowin’ like that before, so it’s time Mr. Kill-all-demons fessed up about whatever little secrets he’s got in his closet.” Spike crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall in a gesture of determination that would have worked…if he hadn’t been dangling raw meat from one hand and dangling his…danglies…from…the place where danglies dangle. Oh yeah, hunger and lust conspire to rob me of my last active brain cell’s attention.
“I might have a very small, small as in insignificant piece of hyena spirit in me,” I admitted as quietly as possible. I didn’t hear the white-coats squeal in joy, so maybe they didn’t hear. Of course, they were probably recording us, but after the whole ‘taking out the soldiers’ thing, I wasn’t going to be able to claim human purity anyway.
“Wot? Like a primal?” Spike’s eyes went comically large.
“Maybe.” I answered cautiously since the lack of Spike insults made me entirely too suspicious.
“And no one bloody told me? Feel left out and unappreciated,” Spike put on his best pout face, and I temporarily forgot about the hunger as I tried not to laugh.
“Spike , we always leave you out,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, but I find out your stupid little secrets anyway. This time I didn’t bloody find out. Feel left out, I do. Could’ve been insulting your hyena’s lack of taste and your own bloody incompetence to carry a primal this whole time. Lost out on prime ‘teasin’ the beast with raw meat’ opportunities.”
“And that would be why we didn’t tell you, or actually, I didn’t tell anyone that I still have the thing, but I’m telling you now, so you should feel special what with the sharing.”
“You’re telling me because I already found out, wanker, but what do ya mean you haven’t told the others?” Spike tilted his head, and I focused on not> thinking words like cute and sexy.
“Telling the others would mean that I told the others, I didn’t tell the others, which means I didn’t tell.” Yep, trying for funny but with the hunger and the meat right there and the lust and Spike right there, the funny just wasn’t coming for me. That probably explained Spike’s expression.
“Bloody loon,” he said as he cocked an eyebrow up.
“Yes, there is that,” I agreed. “So now you see why I’m not doing the whole pig thing,” I pointed out.
“Bloody well don’t see. If you have a primal, you should be ready to tear into this meat.” Spike waved the rib, and I found myself staring at it as my nose flared so that I could scent the meat. Okay, going a little overboard with the primal thing, I decided as I once again tried to shove my spirit girl into her corner.
“I kinda am, but that’s why I’m not doing it.” I spoke through clenched teeth, but Spike just kept right on waving the meat. Wanker. Yes, it’s his word, but the fact is that it describes him well: both literally and figuratively, and I lived with him long enough to know this quite well. Not that I was listening when he did that because I wasn’t….much.
“That’s logical only in the brain of a moron or a member of the Harris family, if that isn’t redundant. You bloody well need food, and this is right up your alley.”
“Enough with the waving dead pig around. Spike, if I eat that, the hyena will just get stronger.”
“That’s the idea, idiot. Two of us against them, and keepin’ strong is the first step in winning.” My hyena almost yipped in pleasure at the thought of Spike joining the pack, but I squashed that reaction before my throat could actually make the sound.
“Spike, trust me, you do not want the hyena getting stronger.” I tried for calm, but I was coming closer to psychotic. Of course the sound of the damn hyena yipping in my head made me want to scoop out my own brains, and that should be a really gross image, but the thought of raw brains is just making me hungrier, and at that point I decided I was so damn damned, it almost didn’t matter.
“Bloody do want it stronger. If we want to get out of here we both need to be up to fighting speed, or I need to be up to fighting speed and you need to be strong enough to run without fallin’ on your face, which right now, you couldn’t do.” I knew Spike was right about how weak I’d become, but I also knew that sinking my teeth into the rich, juicy flesh of that pig would strengthen the hyena who was already rattling her cage more than she had since I’d inherited her from that zoo.
“I can’t, Spike.”
“Wot? You’d rather lie down and die, let these wankers pull you apart on cell at a time rather than strengthen the demon in ya?”
“It’s not that simple, *you* don’t want this thing lose, Spike. Trust me when I say that me plus free hyena is not of the good.” I bit my tongue as I realized that I had said slightly more than I’d intended.
“You bloody coward. You’re goin’ to let these arsewipes get their hands on Red and Glinda because you’re too bloody prejudiced to use the tools you got in that empty head of yours. You’re a worthless clod.” I was torn between retreating to lie in the corner again and defending myself against Spike who had an expression that made it clear if he didn’t have the chip I’d last about 2 seconds.
“Spike, this thing has instincts,” I tried explaining.
“Everything has instincts. Every living or unliving thing in the world has instincts. Instinct to live, to kill the enemy, to hide from those that are stronger, but you’re bloody pathetic pretending that if you ignore this it’ll just go away.” Spike’s words I could ignore; however, he kept gesturing with the hunk of meat, waving it close so that the hyena whined. Then he’d pull it back away from me.
I finally couldn’t take it any more and the vision of the meat being pulled away again short circuited every thought in my head as I slammed into Spike, grabbing the meat and growling as my vision shifted just enough to tell me that I was certainly showing my hyena spirit. My ears could pick up the sound of cameras whirring and clicking, and Spike froze with an expression of surprise as I held the meat in one hand, forgotten for the time being as I pinned him against the wall with my knee and my elbow. He pushed back, and I growled as I felt my frustration that he didn’t submit. He should submit. Why didn’t he submit? He growled back, and a wave of fury and lust and desire left me wanting to throw Spike to the ground and force him to submit, but then it occurred to me I was having naughty Spike thoughtage, and I practically threw myself backwards as I grabbed back control.
I retreated to the far side of the cell which was a good six whole feet away before sinking into the corner, the meat still grasped in my hand. Closing my eyes, I leaned my forehead against the cool concrete and waited for the earth to open and suck me in. Surely the universe wouldn’t be cruel enough to make me live after this, but then the universe and I have never agreed much. The floor remained solid, and I finally brought the meat up and started to eat.
And yep, the universe hates me because here came the white coats. I should’ve expected them after my little display, but I just keep forgetting that I’ve been turned into a sideshow freak. Luckily, little geeky guys with bad complexions and white coats keep showing up and reminding me. Yeah, lucky, lucky me.
“…most exciting display of aberrant behavior since the night of the capture. You were certainly right about the proximity of the second demon acting as a catalyst,” Dr. Pimples jabbered as his brisk steps ended right in front of my current cage. I kept my back to them as I brought up the meat for a second bite. I really was starving in the literal sense, and the food both upset my stomach and filled an empty ache inside.
“I wonder if I really was. Your idea with the pig might have been the actual trigger for the atypical behavior, but we may have failed to consider the possibility that subhuman nature might be scavenger rather than predator.”
“I still believe the presence of this demon is the critical change, even taking into account other variables. Danger to this one led to the original display of demonic traits,” Dr. Pimples replied I groaned at their little circle jerk; this was the sort of sickening discussion that had led me to ignore their actual words as I created a little secret fantasy life for them. If they weren’t sleeping together, they certainly both wanted to. And when *I* can tell someone’s putting out signals, that’s pretty bad considering Anya finally just had to give up and show up at my house with condoms.
I tuned out for a minute, but when Spike jumped forward growling, I found myself twisting around with a growl on my own lips as I expected imminent attack. Instead I saw two geeks on the verge of peeing their pants and a hysterically laughing Spike. I never thought I’d miss that nice square cell I had all to myself, but I did. A nice quiet cell without Spike where I could make up my little stories between bouts of Xander-torture. I turned back around and continued gnawing at my meat.
“Behaviorally sympathetic responses…” Dr. Pencil Neck finally managed to warble out and I smiled as I ate my rare roast pork. Calling it that really didn’t help, but I tore another piece off and chewed anyway, the hyena reveling in every bite…that and the lack of clothing and the chance to growl at enemies and the presence of a worthy male. Hell, she was in hyena heaven, except of course for the whole caged, tortured, starved, and bored stupid parts.
“Perhaps pack behaviors,” Dr. Pimples said in an even less steady voice, one that at the end spiked up like a girl’s into an uncertain squeak. I heard Spike snicker, and I could just imagine the smug expression on his face. Personally I had other matters to worry about, like the pain in my mouth from the bone splinter I’d just rammed into my lip as I cracked the rib bone with my teeth. Idiot hyena. Of course that didn’t stop me from working the marrow out of the bone. I couldn’t eat any more meat without risking throwing up, but the rich, nutritious morrow was too good to pass up, and it took so long to get to that my stomach would have time to digest a bit. Okay, that’s what I told myself later; at the time I was thinking more “Mmmm marrow.”
“Mutually protective or directional imperative?” Dr. Pencil neck mused, his voice now returning to normal after being scared out of five year’s growth by Spike’s antics. Obviously these idiots didn’t normally deal with Spike or they would have expected that. I wondered how many demons they worked with. God, I hope I hadn’t been given to some lower ranking flunkies who dealt in the harmless demons. My hyena growled at the very thought of being labeled harmless
“We know that the younger male will kill in order to protect the vampire. Perhaps we should see if the instinct is mutual under controlled cirum….” The voices faded out as the white coats wandered down the hall, and I was just as glad. I knew damn well Spike wouldn’t put himself on the line for me, so I didn’t even want to know what was about to happen. I finished with my bone and turned around to toss my scraps back into the corner where the pig body lay with the flesh ripped from one side, and I was really bothered by the lack of being bothered by the sight. I was also disturbed by the expression on Spike’s face as he looked at me.
“What?” I finally asked after several minutes of an absolutely undecipherable expression.
“You bloody killed someone?” Spike asked, obviously stunned.
“Yes, I killed one of the soldiers; I’m not a complete incompetent. As you pointed out, everyone has instincts, and I have a few killer instincts of my own, I’ll have you know.”
“Killer instincts, huh?” Spike looked thoughtful, and I rolled my eyes at his skeptical expression.
“Yes, killer instincts.” A sly smile crossed Spike’s face, and I waited for the insult. And here it came…
“Not buyin’, mate. You have the killer instincts of a rabbit.”
“As you would say, ‘ha bloody ha’.”
“Not even one of those wild jack rabbits that ate up big chunks of Australia, either. One of those long haired bunnies with big floppy ears that fall over its eyes.” Spike illustrated his point by holding his hands down over his eyes, and I had an overwhelming urge to knock his head off. Maybe then he’d quit talking crap about me. Probably not.
“Which is still scarier than a chipped vampire,” I snapped back, but the sound of the air gun stopped the conversation as I found a fuzzy, red tranq dart stuck just to the right of my right nipple.
“Hey, that hurts,” I complained. Spike made some sort of noise, but either they’d tranqed him too or I was going down faster than usual because the sounds didn’t make any sense.
Part 3
And again with the white—don’t these people have any other paint colors? I groaned my way back to consciousness, and then wished I hadn’t. Yep, that was one mighty big, nasty-looking nasty in that cage across the room. Even I had enough imagination to understand this test, especially considering Spike leaning against the far wall. So, decision time. Lie down and let that thing eat me as I hope it’s over fast, or try and fight until the thing breaks my neck and eats me as I hope it’s over fast: decisions, decisions. I pushed myself up to a sitting position on stiffened muscles, and my stomach rolled unhappily. The tranquilizer made sure that the first meal I’d had in days threatened to come up all over me with five guys watching through the tilted glass ceiling. Dr. Pencil Neck and Dr. Pimples and Dr. Too-Many-Ho-Ho’s all stood watching along with two guys dressed in military fatigues. Hmm. No Riley. Hadn’t see Riley yet, not that it mattered much. As long as Willow and Buffy didn’t have to watch me die, I really didn’t care much who did.
I looked down to examine the short chain that attached my ankle to the wall, and I knew that I could never get free. The hyena started growling, and I let my head thump back against the wall. Little late for growling because as soon as the geek boys got bored, they were going to get that thing out of its cage, and that thing’s tusks were going to rip me to shreds. And Spike? I felt a brief moment of regret that the last thing I ever said to him was a reminder of how these sadists had crippled him, and again with the irony. I was feeling sorry for a mass murder because he was getting picked on. And when did I get so strange? But it was too late to change anything with me and Spike, so I didn’t even bother.
I pulled my knees up and rested my chin as I considered the boar-demon in the cage: four legs with tough-looking brown skin, thin snake-like eyes, two tusk things coming out of the lower jaw, and a snout that looked like a pig face that had been sharpened at the end. Okay, I had to smile just a little. I didn’t like to eat pigs, but a pig was about to eat me. A pig with a face only a mother could love too, and I knew Spike wouldn’t go up against a big, tusky, boarish demon without having weapons. He liked his own skin in one piece too much for that; besides I’m the one with the reputation for throwing myself into impossible fights. I tried to ignore the voice that pointed out that I’d survived until then, so Spike should be willing to at least try. Spike wasn’t me; he wasn’t going to fight the impossible fight. Hell, the thing probably weighed 200 or 300 pounds. Well at least this was an end to their tests. I wondered if the white coats would get chewed out or written up for getting their test subject killed.
“Finally found a way to shut ya up,” Spike said from across the room, and I turned my head to consider him. Even naked he had a presence that screamed his confidence, and I longed to take that confidence for my own, but who was I kidding? Damn hyena gave me dom-y delusions, but I knew full well that I wasn’t even in his league, so let him get his last jabs, it’s not like it was going to make me any more or less dead here in a few minutes. Knowing this was the end, I let myself do the one thing I’d denied myself the whole time I lived with Spike and the whole time I’d stood in a 6 by 6 foot cage naked arguing with him: I ogled.
And damn if that vampire wasn’t worth ogling. I stared at the long leg muscles that rippled slightly as Spike shifted in anticipation. His weight was on one foot, so his other foot arched gracefully as he stood with just the toes resting on the ground. His hipbones were visible but rounded by the muscle just under the skin, and his arms had the subtle curves normally seen on someone who works all day long in some physical job: a farmer or rancher or stock boy. Okay, maybe not stock boy because that did not describe the muscles that very clearly weren’t for show but for action: lithe, wiry, compact and coiled. His stomach muscles rippled once and then twice as I watched, and then I allowed myself to look down at the thing I had generally avoided. His cock hung limply and perfect. The foreskin made it look slightly alien since I had grown up without my own and all my furtive glances in the locker room had encountered other circumcised cocks. He looked about the same size as me, and I wondered what he looked like hardened by desire. Unless he was a real sadist who got a jolly by watching me get torn apart, I didn’t think I was going to have a chance to find out.
Spike’s body shifted slightly, and I examined the line of his ass where his butt curved down into his thigh, and the son of a bitch had a butt dimple. It was totally unfair that he was so completely perfect nude, and as I looked up into his face, I could see that he knew just how perfect he was.
“See somethin’ ya like Harris?” he smirked with that one eyebrow that lifted in challenge. Okay, I’ll admit it; I have spent a *few* minutes staring into a mirror trying to get my eyebrow to do that. I would take my finger and push one eyebrow up as I struggled to get the right combination of muscles to make that face on my own because reaching up with a finger to do the eyebrow thing was just pathetic. Or rather doing the finger thing in public would be pathetic. Oh, who am I kidding? Doing it in my bathroom with the door locked and Spike tied to the chair outside was pathetic. And no, don’t ask how many minutes because I am not pathetic enough to admit to a number on that little activity. Suffice it to say I got a cramp in my leg from leaning over my counter so long. Yep, that’s me—disgraceful to the end. But right now I looked right back at Spike and answered.
“Yep.” Wow, I caught the vampire off guard. At least, I think that’s Spike’s ‘off-guard’ look because I’ve never seen it before. Spike just stared back, not that he could see anything with me huddled into a ball on the floor, but then he wasn’t about to die, so I wasn’t about to give him a free show. After several minutes of silence, I took a long breath.
“When you get out of here,” I chose my words carefully. “Let them know I’m sorry about the whole keeping secrets thing,” I asked. Spike was a survivor; I couldn’t let myself think for a minute he wouldn’t make it.
“Bloody hell,” he said softly, and I waited for him to tell me how pathetic I was, not that I really needed reminding what with the chained naked to a wall thing, but it was tradition. Spike’s face had a shocked look that didn’t match any expression I’d ever seen on him before; hell, not even a hint of smirkage when I’d expected the whole smirk buffet, but then his features rearranged themselves. He looked at me as though he wanted to say something, and I could just imagine the insults he was forming in response to my self-outting.
Before I had a chance to try and decipher that look, I heard a clicking noise, and my eyes went to the room’s other inhabitant. The long chain that connected his cage door to the ceiling slowly tightened one click at a time as the slack disappeared. I stood. I had no chance of surviving this, but I’d be damned if I was going down without a fight. I didn’t do that with the master or with Spike and I wasn’t going to go down without a fight for the Initiative. All the slack was out of the chain now, and each click brought the cage door open another fraction.
Ya know, I was almost embarrassed to die in such a damn cliché, stupid scientists stole this right out of Star Wars. Feeling very much like a full size action figure being played with by those watching geekoids, I didn’t hear the second sound right away. When I did notice the scratching sound, I turned to see a door slowly sliding open. Of course, I got staked out as the sacrificial lamb, and Spike got an exit back to safety. Survivors survive, and Spike showed his membership in that category by slowly sliding toward that door. Oh, he stopped when I pinned him with my best pissed off expression, but for that expression to work, he had to give a damn. Spike didn’t, so after gazing into my eyes for just a second, he started edging closer to the door again.
Yeah, I knew Spike would do that, but some little part of me had hoped…hoped that he cared enough to try and save me. Maybe a token effort or a suggestion about the beastie’s weak spot. Hell, at this point I’d settle for some pithy last words. Nope, Spike just left me. Rather than have Spike walking away imprinted on my brain as my last memory, I turned back to look at the beast whose nose now pushed against the half open door in an attempt to escape. Yep, I’d rather watch my own personal death approach. Why can’t I fall for someone who actually gives a damn for me just once? Did I do something horrible in some past life: dump a girl on Valentine’s or rape someone or try to kill a lover? Yeah, bitter much, I asked myself with a snort. My last thoughts are going to be about how the world picks on me, and how pathetic is that? Don’t answer that.
The cage door was three-quarters up now and the beast kept pushing it up with its snout so that the cage thumped and clanged as it rose and fell. Now I could see a long line of drool hanging down one side of the beast’s mouth, and I took a deep breath as I realized the damn thing was seconds away from escape, and yep, here he came. The creature sprang from the cage snarling and whipping around as it considered all the sides of the room. It spun toward the open door, which promptly slammed shut with Spike on the other side. It whirled toward me. It turned to the observation window and tilted its head to the side.
I braced myself for the shortest fight in history…well unless you count that time that I tried saying “no” to Larry and never got past the “n” sound because Larry’s fist interrupted the whole me talking thing. That was short. I hoped to at least make it a little longer than that just so that my last moments on Earth wouldn’t be recorded by Dr. Too Many Ho-Ho’s as “pathetic subject squealed like a girl, collapsed in fear, and got eaten in 1.7 seconds.” Things like that are bad on the male ego.
The monster swung his heavy head my way, and I backed up two or three inches until I had plastered myself against the cold, white wall, but I did manage to stay upright and keep my hands up in some pathetic attempt to defend myself, so I’m calling the whole thing successful; oh, and I didn’t wet myself, I actually *was* proud of that one. The creature snuffed once and then twice before it started backing up to take the corner farthest from me, his whole body collapsing to the ground so hard that I could feel the floor vibrate. Huh? What is up with that? I watched as the thing settled in with an expression of wariness that clearly shouted, ‘I won’t try to eat you if you don’t try to eat me,’ and that was one deal I would gladly take. In fact, I didn’t even make eye contact as I edged as far away as I could…in other words, three whole inches. I could tell the scientists were a bit put out too because Dr. Pimples was wildly gesturing and Dr. Too Many Ho-Hos had an expression that looked like a cross between nausea and embarrassment.
The animal’s head zeroed in on the door as it scraped open again, and I expected to see Spike creep back around now that Fido had turned out to be a Fifi, but the door just opened about a foot and then stopped. Okay, either I totally didn’t understand their test or something had gone terribly wrong—not that I had a problem with that because woo hoo for someone else’s life getting screwed up for once.
I jumped when the chain fell off my ankle, setting me free, and my motion attracted Fifi’s attention because he swung that wide head my direction. I froze. I’d like to say that was some sort of thought out plan, but the fact is that the sight of that thing considering me left my legs so weak I could barely even support my weight much less move. After several minutes of staring at me and snuffing heavily, the beast turned his attention to scanning the room, and I took the chance to slide like a crab toward the door.
Just move slowly and don’t piss off the demon, I willed myself as I headed for the exit. Oh god, I hoped it was an exit. I froze against the wall wondering what was on the other side of the door. Maybe it wasn’t an exit. Maybe this was only the start of the test and I was safer with Fifi. Maybe I really hated tests because no matter how much I studied, I always ended up failing, and I had the feeling I couldn’t afford to fail this time. Funny, I really did think that when the day came for me to be tortured to death that Spike would get the honors.
I crept up to the door and used my foot to push it open far enough for me to slide into the new room while keeping an eye on Fifi who seemed very content to let me leave. At least we agreed on that.
“Close the door ya wanker,” a voice demanded, and I turned to see Spike sprawled on a low bench built into the far end of the room.
“You cowardly piece of shit,” I nearly shouted, and before I could even take a breath to continue my impromptu rant on why Spike sucked, he had sprung up and pushed me to one side hard enough to send me to the ground as he yanked the door shut using the huge metal handle.
“S’not what you…” he started as he pulled the door closed to the sound of something huge hitting it from the other side. His words ended when I leaped up and shoved Spike as hard as I could…so hard that his head bounced off the inside of the door before he turned to face me in full game face and growling.
Okay, I’m the first to admit that I might have lost it at that point. . I growled right back and before I could even think things like chip and unfair advantage and bully, I threw myself at Spike ready to rip him to pieces with my bare hands if need be. I’d made a good start of it by getting him on the ground where he growled even louder as he flipped me over onto my back, but when he suffered the chip shockage, I slipped free and dug my teeth deep into the back of arm so that he howled in anger, and then the sharp little pain in my ass told me that neither of us were going to win this fight.
“Assholes…” I slurred out as I released Spike’s arm and felt my body slump down onto Spike who was either already drugged or way too willing to play pillow. I really missed falling asleep on my own, I decided as the drugs started to take effect and pull me down into the darkness that was the only reprieve from the endless world of white. At least this time I had a nice pillow as I fell asleep on top of the still growling Spike.