I’m having such fun checking out all the fantastic fic being produced for the lynnevitational that I almost forgot to post chapter two of If I Can’t Dance. This is the last chapter I have ready today, but I plan to have chapter three for you next week!

Title: If I Can’t Dance
Author: cordelianne
Chapter: 2
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,653
Disclaimer: Sadly not mine, Joss own them.
Summary: Set in season 5 and basically follows canon, although there will be twists and changes along the way. This chapter takes place before and after "The Replacement."
The first thing he remembers is cookies.
Cookies and a heart-to-heart talk with Willow. He follows that trail of memory crumbs to the little moment of domestic drama he likes to call The Breakup with Anya.
He probably shouldn’t be in charge of naming things.
A/N: Written for the lynnevitational, thanks to germaine_pet for hosting this shindig!
Thanks go out to the awesome electricalgwen, savoytruffle and spookymonkey for their invaluable pre-reading, betaing and support. Any mistakes are mine (and you're always welcome to point out my mistakes).

All chapters can be found in memories here or tags here.



If I Can’t Dance
by Cordelianne

CHAPTER TWO


The first thing he remembers is cookies.

Cookies and a heart-to-heart talk with Willow. He follows that trail of memory crumbs to the little moment of domestic drama he likes to call The Breakup with Anya.

He probably shouldn’t be in charge of naming things.

Beer. That’s the next thing he remembers. Lots and lots of beer.

And then the sinking feeling that Spike was there. That he may even have talked to Spike while consuming said beer. Good thing he has whole locker rooms of low low moments to keep this a blip on the humiliating experiences radar.

Still, probably best not to try and remember anything that involved Spike and alcohol.

Which brings him back to cookies. He munches and surveys his basement which is impersonating an apartment. Xander’s always hated masquerades. He brushes crumbs to the floor and ponders how best to approach his next big breakup.

***

His parents take it better than Anya. That should be upsetting, but it’s hard to care now that he has his very own not-a-basement apartment.

Sure, he has Toth to sort of thank for the actual apartment getting. But demonically induced personality disorders aside, the new place is all good in Xander’s book. Now he can strut with the confidence of a bachelor with his very own swinging pad, and he’ll have to figure out a hipper way to say that.

But he’s focusing on the strutting.

Cause he has something to strut about, something to swagger about even, and he may throw in some hip sway just for fun.

That turns out to be less fun when he trips on the steps in the Magic Box.

He finishes off with a less triumphant strut, but at least it’s still a strut, and flops down beside Riley. Riley who didn’t notice the swagger or the stumble. Riley who seems to just be staring at the pages of his book and not reading them.

“What’cha doing?” Xander hooks a chair with his foot, pulls it closer and rests his legs on it.

“Doing a good job of not studying.” Riley puts down the book. “I think Buffy’s taken all my studying mojo. She’s crazy-school girl right now.”

“As long as you still have your real mojo.” Xander nods. “That’s what’s important.”

“Oh, nothing will keep that down,” Riley says.

Xander clears his throat. He stares at the still-empty shelves.

“We should probably pretend I didn’t just say that,” Riley says to the table.

“Right there with you.” Xander flashes Riley a smile. “You the only one here?”

“Sort of. I’m supposed to meet Buffy here so we can brainstorm about the new mysterious demon hunter, but she and Dawn are out shopping.” Riley flips the pages of his book. “Who knows how long that will take. Giles is in the basement examining merchandise.”

“Think he’s safe down there?”

“I haven’t heard any screams or odd sounds. But maybe we should check on him.”

“I’ll go,” Xander says, hopping to his feet.

He glances back at Riley, whose head looks more like it’s hanging in defeat than focused down in concentration. He really hopes Riley’s wrong about Buffy not loving him, cause Riley’s a good guy. And good guys deserve love too.

***

“Giles?” Xander calls out from the bottom of the stairs. Too many years on the hellmouth have him expecting some gruesome scene or at least Giles unconscious.

“Over here in the fertility section,” replies the clearly still conscious Giles.

A conscious and busy Giles, if the stacks of boxes and dusty books Xander maneuvers around are any indication.

“Ah Xander, excellent.” Giles places a statue into a pile beside him.

“Let me guess, you want to use my muscles? Why does everyone only want me for my body? It’s a burden, I tell you.” He’s getting the cease and desist look from Giles so he concedes and stops that line of talking. “So, my muscles for moving, huh?”

“Well, yes, however …” Giles cleans his glasses. “I had hoped to speak with you about Anya.”

“Anya.” Xander leans on a box, then yanks his arm back and brushes the dust off. “You heard about our break-up?”

“Yes. As matter of fact, Anya told me.” Giles’ glasses seem to need lots of cleaning.

“She did?” Xander aims for interested but figures he ends up in shocked territory, or at least in the land of confusion.

“After a very detailed description of her feelings, she indicated that she was looking to – as she said – ‘pursue an activity of interest’ to help her become a ‘sassy single gal’.”

Giles’ gaze remains fixed on his glasses.

“Now, I know that the two of you have just separated, and that this is a particularly rocky time.” Giles continues. “I imagine that it will be difficult to be in close proximity to each other.”

Xander barely stops himself from sighing. This much preamble is never good.

“Yes?” he prompts.

Giles puts on his glasses and looks directly at Xander. “She would like to work at the Magic Box.”

“Oh.” Xander’s not sure how he’s supposed to respond. The whole post-breakup etiquette eludes him. Maybe he should read one of those relationship books. There must be rules he should be following, a nice step-by-step guide. Hopefully with pictures.

“I haven’t given her an answer because I wanted to check and see if you had a problem with the… er, proposed employment opportunity.”

“Oh that’s, um, nice of you.”

“She would bring expertise, and she expressed enthusiasm for the position. I do believe she would be an asset.” Giles leans into a box and pulls out another statue. It looks identical to the last one.

Xander decides to live dangerously and not bother consulting Dr. Phil or whoever’s the latest relationship expert. “Sounds okay to me. It might be awkward at first, but, you know, we don’t hate each other or anything.” He glances at a box labeled ‘curses.’ “I hope.”

“Excellent.” Giles picks up a clipboard and consults it. “Now, could you carry those boxes upstairs to the back room?”

He points to about thirty large boxes. Xander glances up the stairs and remembers Riley. He decides not to let him miss out on the manly fun.

***

“Did Willow slip you some of her own special kool-aid?” Xander dodges a fist and elbows a vamp in the stomach. “What’s with you being serious school-girl?”

“Hey! It’s not like –” A vampire behind Xander yelps as it becomes dust. “– I was the worst student ever.”

He kicks his vamp toward Buffy’s stake. More dust fills the air. “I remember a time when our own Ms. Summers would cut school, and even had to take make-up classes.”

“That was only that one year.” A vampire attacks Buffy from behind. “And there were extenuating circumstances.”

She stakes it without turning around, without breaking a sweat. Xander knows he’s yet to learn to do the first and is pretty sure he’s already doing the second.

Xander leans against a tree. He pretends he’s a cool guy who leans, and that it’s not because he’s winded. “If he hadn’t been swallowed by the mayor, I’m sure Snyder could whip out a whole file proving otherwise.”

“Good thing he was eaten then.”

“I have no complaints about that turn of events.”

They walk north.

“How are you dealing post break-up?” Buffy asks.

“There’s been some country music, some beer, some bonding with Spike, you know, the usual.”

“You didn’t actually bond with Spike, did you?”

“I don’t remember much. But I’m going with no,” Xander says. “It is weird that he actually took the time to call you, though.”

“It would top the weird list if we didn’t live in Sunnydale, home of weird. Oh! Maybe there’s been a love spell and now he’s in love with you!”

Buffy starts laughing. And can’t stop. She clutches her side and leans against a gravestone.

“I’ll have you know that’s not funny. Love spells never go well. And I don’t relish the idea of Spike hanging on my every word, or worse, well, let’s not go there.”

“At least the boy and I agree on that.”

Xander really hopes this is just surprise and not an actual heart attack.

Spike is sitting a few feet away on a gravestone, smoking. Spike has to be the reason so many people smoke. Instead of thinking horrible cancerous death, Xander can’t take his eyes away from the slow inhale of Spike’s lips around the cigarette. Clearly Spike is involved with the tobacco industry’s ploy to make smoking seem sexy. Makes sense, they’re both evil.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that!” Xander says, hoping he comes off as righteous and not strangely transfixed by a vampire smoking a cigarette.

“This is where I live.” Spike stands up and saunters toward Buffy and Xander. “Besides, how could I sneak when I’m not moving?”

Buffy rolls her eyes.

“You’d find a way.” Xander winces inwardly. His wit must have wandered off for a quick game of cards, gotten drunk and is now currently sleeping it off.

“Listen, Harris –“ Spike begins.

“Alright, that’s it.” Buffy says in her you will obey me scary-as-hell voice. “No bickering. I don’t want you two scaring off the vampires I’m here to kill. Cause if that happens, they’ll leave the cemetery and kill innocent people.”

Spike shrugs

“You,” Buffy points at Spike, “should care because it’ll mean less demon-on-demon violence for you.”

“You make a good point about the poor innocent victims.” Spike takes a drag from his cigarette. “Let’s use Harris as bait.”

“What? Bait!” Xander shakes his head. “I’m not being the bait. One: I’m not a girl.” He glances at Buffy. “Er, I mean I’m not a helpless young person. And two: that doesn’t sound like fun.”

A few minutes later Xander finds himself walking alone through the graveyard.



Continues here.