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27 June 2016 @ 02:07 am
Fic: Teenage Dirtbag Part 17  
Fic: Teenage Dirtbag
Author: lusciousxander
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: PG 13
Setting: Starts during Lover’s Walk, S3. Spike's POV throughout.
Summary: Halfrek gives Spike the curse that will change his entire life.
Note: This fic is written for the Reviving Spander Ficathon.

Super thanks to devo79 for being my awesome beta.

Previous Chapters

Part 17

Made by Tickyboxes

The numbers on the math test make no sense. The tapping of a pencil and the humming and the gum chewing. The clock ticks, half the time almost over. I should write my name. The pencil isn’t sharpened. I can’t find the bloody sharpener.

“May I speak to William?” Rupert at the door in a black trench coat and without his glasses.

“I have a test,” I tell him and try to find a sharpener.

“Buffy, turn down that rubbish!” Rupert exclaims.

Buffy is skipping rope in the library. I try to hear the music, but Larry taps on the paper and tells me to concentrate. I look down at the test. “Xander, this has Willow written all over it.”

I turn to my left. Drusilla is sipping hot chocolate and seizing a marshmallow from a flowery plate.

“I thought Xander was here,” I muse.

“Who’s Drusilla?” Faith asks, spreading Xander on the library counter and locking lips with him.

“What are you doing?” I snap at her. “Stop!”

Xander is choking and Faith keeps kissing him. I turn my gaze to Buffy doing step aerobics. “Stop her!” I try to say, but nothing comes out, and Buffy doesn’t notice. None of them notice.

“Stop, please!” Words locked in my throat, voiceless, and Faith keeps kissing Xander who is dangling in her arms now, lifeless.

My breath quickens and I blink at the closed drapes of the window in my dimly lit room. The odd shaped colognes and Avengers action figures on top of the drawers’ chest dissolve the icy tension inside. I peer down at the spot next to my bed on the floor and find Xander sleeping on his mattress.

A sigh of relief leaks out and I lie down in bed, going over the nightmare I just had. Xander has been staying here for days now and it just accrued to my conscious to show him dying in the hands of a lunatic slayer?

Then there’s the guest appearance of Drusilla. I haven’t thought of her in a long time. And that in itself is disconcerting. That’s Drusilla. My black goddess. My guide into the world of evil. She’s the reason I’m trapped in this reality as an adolescent boy with unsettling protective feelings for an insignificant human child.

The image of her sipping hot chocolate keeps playing in my mind. She didn’t even glance my way, too absorbed in what she was doing. She must be disappointed in me. I’ve abandoned the mission. Given up. Stopped trying to get back to her. What about Drusilla in this reality? Could I bear it if she didn’t know me? Her dark knight? Her Spike.

Xander shifts in his sleep.

I have an English test tomorrow. And a history test two days after that. So much to focus on. So little time to… to think about something else.


“Giles didn’t get upset when I washed my lucky drawers with his shirts, did he?” Xander stands behind me wittering on as I try to remember the combination to open my locker. “’Cause they’re my ticket to ace English, and I was in charge of the laundry anyway, and are you even listening to me?”

I nod absentmindedly. “You’re right.” The numbers remind me of the math test in the dream. Am I losing my mind or they’re not making sense here either?

Xander’s face appears out of nowhere. “I’m right what?”

I jump back. “Huh?”

He hugs his books to his chest and furrows his thick eyebrows. “What up? Been quiet all morning.”

An image of Drusilla and the plate of biscuits flashes before me. I stare at him and he stares back, his expression growing serious with concern.

“Hey, guys.” Buffy struts down the hall, sunglasses firmly placed on top of her head where her golden hair bounces with each step. “I come bearing news.”

Clearly happy for the distraction, Xander grins at her. “Good or bad?”

“Depends.” She presents him with two large envelopes. Xander’s face loses the grin, and he barely reaches for the envelopes, looking at them as if they’re about to tell him he got a fateful disease.

“What are those?” I ask.

“Admission packets to the colleges you forced me to apply to.” Xander’s accusatory tone thaws to a hopeless one as he shakes the envelopes. “I don’t like it. They’re both too light. Crayon ‘No Way’ papers are rearing their sharp finger-cutting edges.”

Buffy smiles sympathetically. “You won’t know what’s in them until you open them.”

He slams the envelopes against my chest.

“Oi, what’s that for?”

“You open them. It was your idea!” He rushes to hide his larger body behind Buffy’s petite one.

I look down at the first envelope, ‘Montana State University’, and rip it open.

“Oh God,” I hear Xander mutter as I read the acceptance paper. “I’ve already been rejected to every college I applied to. I’m all rejected out.”

“What do you know? Maybe this is your shot.” Buffy turns back to me hopefully.

I shake my head.

She quickly pats an unaware Xander on the shoulder. “Maybe the next one is your shot.”

Xander’s upset gaze shoots up. “The next one? See? Nothing but rejection.”

I open the second envelope while Buffy tries to calm Xander down as he rambles about his future in pizza delivery. Dear Alexander Harris, we are pleased to inform you…

“We’ve got a winner!” I exclaim, waving the paper in Xander’s face.

Xander blinks at the paper, his eyes widening with shock. “I got in?” He snatches it out of my hands, his eyes flick from right to left, taking in the paper’s content. “I got in!” He grabs Buffy and spins her around. Then smacks my shoulder and shows me the paper. “This right here is the proof that I do not deserve my stupidity rep.”

Buffy tries to peer at the paper. “Where did you get in?”

He points at the name in the paper, and declares for those who can’t read, “Weber State University.”

Buffy’s face falls. “Oh. That’s in Utah.”

“Um, yeah.” Xander loses his smile and bites on his lip.

I look between the two in bewilderment. “Why the sudden long faces? Thought we were happy for Harris.”

“We are,” Buffy reassures with a guilty glance at Xander. “It just… hit me that we won’t be together next year.”

“That’s life. People grow apart after high school. They lose touch.” My words of wisdom seem to make her feel worse.

“I don’t wanna start over,” she mumbles in a low voice. Something tugs inside. Must be hard to form friendships when you’re the Slayer. Buffy is a lucky one to have landed a bunch of friends, who not only are okay with who she is, but also chip in every time there’s a crisis.

Xander squeezes her shoulder with a huge grin. “Hey, that won’t happen if we don’t graduate. How about we pull an Oz and repeat Senior year?”

Buffy smiles up at him. “Well, there’s good chance this may happen to me.” Her nose wrinkles. “History test is coming up.”

“Do you think Willow taped Biography?” Xander asks, referring to the documentary series.

“Of course she did. She’s Old Reliable.”


Houses, cars, children on bicycles all fleeting by the way my day went. I rest my head against the window’s glass, feeling troubled and uncertain. I don’t remember much of what happened at school. There was the English test, chemistry lab, and my mind wandered in math class. I was lost in the numbers, didn’t make sense there either. The teacher wasn’t pleased.

Then what happened in between classes; Xander getting into a uni, that twit Dan tripping me to the floor, and Willow storming off with a banana. I remember nothing else.

“How was your English test?” I hear Rupert’s question. I can’t bring myself to answer.


I heave a sigh. “It was brill.”

He regards me with that fatherly concerned stare, which causes a heavy weight in my chest. The way he cares throttles me, and suddenly I feel really tired.

He doesn’t comment on my tone, not when we have company in the car. He glances at the back seat. “Xander, I trust you did well after you violated the sanctity of my shirts.”

“The questions were easy, but the answers weren’t.”

“You mean your lucky underwear fell short?” Rupert grits out.

“Not exactly. I nearly got a 100. I was just a digit out; I averaged 10.”

Rupert’s knuckles tighten on the car wheel. “I’m going to stop the car, and you have five seconds to clear out.”

Xander’s laugh is contagious; I look back at him sprawled in the backseat, his rucksack resting on his stomach. “Giles, I just spouted every test joke known in history. You’re so uneducated. You gotta be proud I fitted them all in.”

“Oh, if only you could memorize the test material as well as those jokes, then we’ll talk proud.”

I chuckle at Rupert’s dry retort, finding my spirits at last. “Well, you have to be. He got into Weber State Uni.”

“An eleven hours’ drive away from here?” Rupert glances at me. “Finally, some good news.”

Xander’s head sticks out between us. “More news of the good; I’m having French fries for dinner at the Bronze with Willow and Buffy tonight, so don’t wait up for me.”

“That does put a smile on my face.”

Xander pats a grinning Rupert on the shoulder with a laugh. I watch them, immersed by the spontaneity, completely at ease with each other, and it’s bloody attractive. Knowing there will be more of that easy going bantering, in other rides to school, at the dinner table, and my heart beats faster.

Rupert notices my intense stare and smiles apologetically. “Sorry, William, you still have one last night.”

I realize what’s he talking about, and pretend to be miffed. “Aren’t you tired of having me fuss about in that tiny flat?”

“It’s excruciating. But the books say it’s good parenting.”

I can tell by that glint in his eye that doesn’t mind having me at home. I don’t mind either. And that thought puts a stumper on my mood for the rest of the drive.


These William poems are informative. Without Drusilla and I in in the picture, Angel ran his destructive operation solo and from his flat. It doesn’t look like he moved into the factory, and the aftermath of killing the teacher was a bit messier. The police were involved and Rupert spent a night in jail, my ‘mother’ was contacted, and she threatened to fight for my custody if Rupert didn’t straighten out. William sounds quite scared in this one, ‘crying his soul to sleep’ and ‘coldness reaching his heart’, his fear of losing Rupert is poignant and reflected clearly in his words.

That was probably the only poem about Rupert, most of these are descriptive tales to the adventures of one brave Xander Harris. An earlier one describes Xander’s quest to save the damsel Cordelia from the clutches of a monster with a face of an angel – very original, William. It ends in heartbreak; William and Willow bursting into Angel’s flat to save the boy of their dreams only to find him in the arms of that stuck up hussy.

The door suddenly bolts open. I shut the notebook and grab that Harry Potter book I never bothered to read.

“Hey, bud!” Xander walks in, leaving the door open, and flings himself on my bed. The elusive dinner smell starts to amble, and Xander noisily inhales it in. “Glad I came back before dinner time.”

“You’re early,” I comment, glancing at the notebook, knowing that he’ll notice it if I try to hide it now.

“Willow was in the worst of moods,” he whines, pushing himself up on his elbows. “It’s like anything we say sets her off.”

“Is it that time of the month?”

“That’s not it. It’s the whole Old Reliable thing.”

Willow had a hissy fest in school about this. Poor little lamb can’t catch a break. From the midget school principal to the jock wanker to Rupert in the library and then her chums. “Nobody likes being taken advantage of.”

“We don’t take advantage of Willow.” My eyebrow goes up. Xander bites his lip. “Well, not intentionally.”

“Everybody takes advantage of her. She’s smart. She’s sweet. She has a problem saying no and now she’s rattled.” I place the book on the desk and walk towards the door, closing it gently.

“I feel like a giant ass,” Xander declares, recognizing the truth now that his mind isn’t consumed with the inviting smell of Rupert’s special bubble and squeak. He sits up straight with a pleading frown. “Can we change the subject to something that doesn’t fill me with guilt?”

I stuff a hand into the pocket of his rucksack and toss him a college brochure. “Like getting into Weber?”

The brochure hits his chest then lands at his feet. “Not exactly,” he says with a grimace.

“What? That’s good news.” I sit next to him, leaning over to take the brochure and then handing it to him.

He stares at it but doesn’t take it. I start waving it in his face. He grabs it and tosses it away. “I’m not going to college, Will.”

“Why not?”

“There are so many factors.”


He gets up and walks toward the drawers’ chest, seizing the framed picture of him, Willow, Buffy and I. He traces a finger on it, staring at one of the faces pensively.

“Buffy,” he says, his eyes still on her face in the picture. “Willow is going to Harvard or Yale. You’re going to Oxford and taking Giles with you. Who else will be around to help her out with the vamp stuff?”


The scowl he gives speaks volumes. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”

“I’m not.” I head towards him and take the picture off his hand, putting it back in its place. These children still have nothing but contempt towards the new watcher. It is out of loyalty for Rupert, but obviously they noticed Rupert’s constant lecturing and training so that Wesley would be able to take things over when we leave for England. Buffy would benefit from trying to get along with Wesley now before every single Scooby leaves her side for their future.

I watch him standing before the few boxes that contained his clothes. He was too eager to empty the ones with his comic book collection but always managed to neglect unpacking his clothes.

“Why should you take one for the team? Don’t base your future on someone else’s happiness.”

“There’s also the money,” he explains. “On account of not having it.”

“Don’t you have a college fund?”

He shrugs. “I don’t think I ever had one, and if I did, it was most probably spent on booze.”

He wanders towards my desk, his hand going for the notebook – my heart almost stops – but he takes the Harry Potter novel instead. Silence takes over, him flipping through the pages, me trying to remember where the conversation stopped.

“I… have no words,” I finally say, recalling the time I met the boy’s clumsy mother. When Xander and I were moving his boxes out of the house, his folks didn’t seem to notice. They didn’t even react to Xander’s offhand ‘I’m moving in with William.’ Lost in their own glass, watching whatever came along on TV. Those sad, miserable lot.

“That’s okay. I don’t think I’m college material anyway.” He sits on my chair, glancing at the cover of the book before he looks at me with an ear to ear grin. “At least I got into college, right? Not stupid. I’ve also been thinking about taking one of those road trips they do after high school? So something to look forward to. Also, not a virgin anymore. Big plus.”

His expression becomes serious all of a sudden. “Speaking of sex, it’s all I think about. I mean, it was good with Faith. The first time, not the one with her fingers on my throat. But… something was missing. It went by fast, you know.” He leans forward and looks right into my eyes. “Shouldn’t it be… longer?”

I stifle a laugh. “It was your first time. Your soldiers couldn’t wait to… ambush.”

“Still, she didn’t even wanna coddle.”

I burst out laughing. “You and coddling, Harris. So, your first time didn’t go well, you’ll have other times.”

“When?” he asks impatiently.

“When a girl is desperate enough to bugger you silly.”

“And where do you find those desperate girls?”

I give him a light punch on the shoulder. “Change your clothes and eat something. You’re worse than Dru.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Who’s this Dru you keep bringing up?”

Bollocks. I try to remain calm, walking around him aimlessly. “When did I bring her up?”

“That day when you pranked Giles into grounding you. Then again in the library.” His eyes widen and he holds up a finger. “Was she your girlfriend before you came out?”

I stare at him, the embarrassing notebook safely hidden behind my back. “Yes.”

His eyes glisten with interest. “Did you sleep with her?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

“What was it like?” He looks like an eager puppy scenting a treat.

Head tilt. Smug smirk. “Let’s just say I know how to keep a lady satisfied.”


I snatch the Harry Potter book and swat him with it. “Change.”

Outside, I can easily hear the bubbling and squeaking in the kitchen. Rupert’s cooking towel is draped over his shoulder as usual, and he bends to taste the chicken soup. I instinctively start setting the table, able to tell that dinner is about to be ready.

“How’s Xander?”

I scoff. “A confused mess.”

“Why? Did something happen?” He appears extremely concerned. I realize what he was referring to instantly. “I put the knives back in the drawer. Did he do…”

“Oh, no.” I shake my head, remembering early in the morning when we were making sandwiches the look on Xander’s face when he saw the knives. “He was surprised. But nothing happened.”

Rupert wipes his forehead with his towel, glancing at the direction of my bedroom. “We still have to keep an eye on him. These urges don’t wear off in the span of few days.”

“I know.” I don’t tell him that I caught Xander with scissors in the school’s bathroom. I don’t tell him about the way Xander stares at the sharp edge of a stake he just sharpened.

“I talked to the school’s counselor today.”

That’s why I don’t tell him. “Rupert, you know Xander doesn’t want anyone to know.”

“She thinks Xander should see a professional therapist.”

“No,” I hiss, hoping Xander doesn’t hear this conversation.

“William, I understand your loyalty to your friend’s wishes.” He turns his attention back to his cooking. “Xander’s problem could be a long-lasting one and it requires professional help. We are not equipped to deal with a situation like this.”

I know he’s right. However, I don’t think Xander would understand us betraying his trust like this. The last thing I want is to see that look on Xander’s face when I gave him the vengeance demon’s pendant on his birthday. The burning anger in his eyes, the hurt in his voice. I can never bear it.

Rupert starts inverting the bubble and squeak into the skillet’s lid, then slides it back to cook the other side. I begin placing the plates on the kitchen counter, wondering how Rupert is going to break the news to Xander. I wish he’ll leave me out of it.

“Dinner is ready. Go and get Xander.”

It’ll be easier if I pretended to be as gutted as he would once Rupert brings up the therapist. Take his side and vent along, but at the same time not dismiss it as a bad idea. Rupert can take the heat and I’ll still look good.

I push the door to my room open and find Xander reading my notebook.

“What the hell are you doing?” Upset and furious, I steal it from his hands and glare daggers at him. “Who gave you permission to read that?” For someone who doesn’t like anyone middling in his affairs, he sure doesn’t mind doing it to others.

Xander appears like he’s about to throw a wobbly. He jumps to his feet, eyes wide with alarm, mouth opening and closing in utter shock. “Okay, William… I just read a whole poem about my eyes.”

I stand frozen, the notebook in my hand about to slip to the floor.

Xander’s expressive face shows a rollercoaster of emotions as his mind clearly runs over different explanations. He snaps a finger at me, an invisible bulb lights up above his head. “Was that… oh, did you…” A frown takes place and he drops his finger. “No, I guess not.”

“Harris, you’re not making sense,” I snap, feeling a variety of emotions myself. Embarrassment and anxiety high on that list.

“I figured this is why you stopped wanting to hang out, but then I remembered one of those earlier drafts ‘Ampata: The Rotten Biscata.’”

I hide my face behind the notebook. “Bloody hell.”

He holds up his hands, looking at me warily. “Look, if me being here makes you uncomfortable…”

I shake my head. “No, it’s…”

“Because it’s making me uncomfortable.” He’s about to burst, absolutely freaked out.

I force myself to calm down. I place the sodding notebook on the desk and wear a bored scowl on my face. “Relax. I’m completely over you.”

“Really?” The hopeful gleam in his eyes quickly vanishes. “’Cause the last one was all about setting Larry free because he wasn’t me.”

Chest boiling with anger. “How many of these sodding travesty have you read?”

“Mostly titles. I liked that one about me and Cordelia, ‘Straight as a dart, dating a first class tart.’” He snorts a laugh, an anxious laugh, his back glued to the wall far away from me.

If only the earth splits and swallows me now. He seems to be noticing my distress, the scared wide eyes smoothing into a look of nervous concern. He clears his throat and drags his feet towards me, his hand timidly patting my shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he says in an almost convincing tone. “I’m calm. Calm is me.” He holds up his hands with a toothy grin. “See?”

“I should burn this.” I toss the notebook at the garbage can. It hits the rim and lands next to it.

“I really hope you don’t,” he says with a mischievous grin. “I mean I didn’t know that my eyes graduated from green tea leaves to dying fields.”

I push his cackling arse away and he ends up bouncing on my bed, lost in a fit of laugher.

“That was a bad one.” Actually, that poem has the best imagery I’ve ever read.

He sits up, wiping the tears in his eyes. “I really need to process this. First Willow, then you, then Cordelia. Hey, do you think Buffy…”


“Oh.” His hope crushed to pieces. I feel better all of a sudden.

“I really hope this doesn’t get over your head. You’re not all that, you know.”

His bushy eyebrows wiggle. “My shimmery eyes beg to differ.”

“Piss off, Harris.”

His grin dims down to a somber smile. “I liked that first one. About Jesse.”

I stare at the bittersweet glimmer in his eyes, my overwhelming emotions settling down at last. “Yeah?”

He nods mutely, directing his gaze to the floor.

I settle down next to him, clasping my hands. “Do you ever think about him?”

He sighs. “Sometimes. A lot when Angel got his soul back.” He shakes his head and stares up at the ceiling. “It’s not fair.”

I remember the disdain in my mother’s healthy features, hear the ridicule in her voice, the disgust. The hurt and distress I felt back then reflected on Xander’s face, not fresh and strong as it once was, but diminished over the years.

“Giles told me…” he starts, gaze on the notebook next to the garbage can.


“He said when a person is turned into a vampire, they’re completely gone.” His eyes on me now are filled with deep sadness. “Jesse still went after Cordelia. Angel still went after Buffy. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Rupert was wrong,” I say from experience. Being turned into a vampire changed a lot of things, but me, the essence of my personality… I still wrote poems, still wanted my mother to live long, to be well and healthy.

“Makes you wonder what it’s like to be a vampire.” He crosses his arms behind his head and falls back on the bed. He rolls his eyes when he notices my look. “I’m not that insane.”

Just making sure. My talk with Rupert still fresh in my ears.

“Didn’t you ever imagine how it’s like?”

I don’t need to imagine. I know what it’s like. Smelling humans’ fear, hearing the rush of their blood and thumping of their hearts, yearning for the taste of their blood, to suck my fangs into their flesh and drink that…

My stomach recoils when I remember that revolting taste, how I used to lick the remaining of it off my fingers.

Xander sits up suddenly, his face so close to mine that his breath touches my skin. “So,” in a voice loaded with masculinity, “you’re really over me?”

I swat him with my pillow. “Like shite down the toilet. And flushed.”

He laughs. “Dude, I kid.” He wipes an invisible tear. “But you hurt.”

“Get bent.”

A charming wink. “You’d like that.”

“I swear, Harris…”

“I kid again.” He pats my shoulder. “I’m glad it’s over. ‘Cause this whole thing will be weird.”

“Yeah. Weird,” I mumble in discomfort.

He heads for the door. “C’mon, let’s feast.”

“I’ll be right with you.” I press on the pillow in my lap, hiding the tent that formed there.

Drusilla pops up in my head, in the library drinking and eating, didn’t even look at me. She knew. She knew I was far gone.

Xander left the door open again, letting the delicious aroma waft in with the intriguing banter between Xander and Rupert. Natural. Attractive. Troubled with a squeeze on my heart, I feel a strong yearning for this. I don’t belong here, not the man’s son, not the boy in love with his friend, but here I am. Took his life away from him, living it to the fullest, and I desperately want it.


Part 18
chaoskirchaoskir on June 27th, 2016 09:14 pm (UTC)
Wow! Great and intense written long update. Very good. You let your reader slip into the story and there they can feel (and enjoy) all the emotions of your protagonists. Wonderful written. Thank you.
lusciousxander: LOL by quietdiscerninglusciousxander on June 27th, 2016 11:18 pm (UTC)
Thank you! Your words mean the world to me. I'll try to finish the next chapter as soon as possible.
forsaken2003forsaken2003 on June 28th, 2016 06:02 pm (UTC)
Great chapter! It makes me sad though. Why isn't Xander falling for Spike? What will happen if Spike gets back to his own life? I'm excited and nervous to see how everything works out in the end!
lusciousxanderlusciousxander on July 4th, 2016 01:52 pm (UTC)
Thank you! Sorry it took me long to reply! Yeah, Xander isn't feeling gay for Spike. We'll see what'll happen.

I just posted Part 18. Check it out.