Pairing: Spike/Xander, Dawn
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss is God, he owns all.
Warnings: Vamp!Xander, Vamp!Dawn
Summary: Written for the batpack’s March Challenge. Dawn is convinced that she has the worst luck ever.

If It Weren't For Bad Luck…

by
Jameschick

If it weren’t for bad luck, Dawn was certain she would have no luck at all. It was bad enough to find out you weren’t born into the world but created out of some ancient mystical energy thingy, and then to have your first crush turn out to be gay - and with your second crush just to make it worse - but to then be turned by said crushes who still only thought of you as a little sister? That was beyond having bad luck. That was the worst luck. She was convinced that she could live forever and yet still die a virgin. What kind of demons were these guys?

And now, instead of being outside, in the cool night air, scenting blood on the breeze, she was stuck inside watching them argue. Oh joy.

Spike had just finished his tirade on Xander’s Country music collection and so it was now Xander’s turn to yell again.

“Well at least I have taste in music! What the hell is that crap you listen to? The guitar player doesn’t know more than three cords, the singer does nothing but screech and swear into the microphone, and you can’t understand a damn thing they're singing about anyway!”

Dawn sighed. This was getting bad. She really hoped they would hurry up and just get to the make up sex. At least that was entertaining - the odd time they’d forgotten she was in the room and went at it in front of her at least.

“Really, luv?” Spike drawled, crossing him arms over his chest. “With those ears, I’d think you could pick up just about anything.”

Xander gaped momentarily and then narrowed his eyes. “Oh, it’s on now, Blondie-bear.”

“Blondie-bear?” Spike growled, shifting to vamp-face. “I’ll show you Blondie-bear.”

Xander shifted as well and they began circling one another, Spike growling and waiting for his opening, Xander a bit wary but too stubborn to back down.

“What’s the matter Blondie-bear, waiting for a written invitation?” Xander taunted as Spike slowed in his circling.

“Just giving you a sporting chance, luv. Sure you don’t want to take it back and get down on your knees to beg my forgiveness?” Spike asked, slipping the tip of his tongue out between his fangs. “I’m feeling rather magnanimous, and if you do a good… job. . . I might just overlook your disrespectful attitude.”

Xander snorted. “You think I’m going to fall for that? Contrary to what you might think, Spike, you’re not all that. For starters, your hair is far too white, too slicked back and too frizzy when it’s not. You wear clothes that even Billy Idol wouldn’t be caught dead in now a days. Your forehead is too wide, your nose is too thin, your head is too big for your skinny little body, and you're short!” Xander all but shouted the last. “Oh yeah,” he stated at Spike’s astonished expression, “That’s right, I went there.”

“You… You think my head's too big?” Spike wibbled and Xander began to look uncomfortable as the demon visage faded away to be replaced by watery, blue eyes and a trembling lower lip. “And I’m too skinny?”

Xander hesitated briefly before shrugging his shoulders. It didn’t help Spike’s self confidence. “Am I ugly then?” he asked softly, “what with my big forehead, thin nose, and awful hair?”

Xander shuffled his feet. He was still hurt by the ear crack. Spike knew he was sensitive over his ears - always had been. But then, he imagined Spike was probably self-conscious about his appearance too. Worse even as it had been over a century since he’d last seen himself in a mirror. “I’m sorry,” he offered. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Did too,” Spike pouted, but didn’t turn away when Xander stepped closer and wrapped him in his arms.

“Not really. I was just upset because you insulted my ears.”

“You insulted my music. And you called me Blondie-bear,” Spike pointed out.

Xander tightened his arms. “That was after you insulted my music, my Babylon 5 DVD collection, my Hawaiian shirts, my baggy cargo pants, and my love of Twinkies. You know better than to go after the Twinkies, Spike.”

Spike sighed. “Sorry luv. But you insulted the Weetabix. That’s just not on. I had to defend it’s honour.”

“And a fine job you did as well,” Xander said softly, pressing a kiss to Spike’s temple.

Spike nuzzled at Xander’s neck before replying, “I did do a rather good job at that, didn’t I?”

“This is where you’re suppose to say you're sorry too, and that you didn’t mean any of what you said,” Xander prompted.

“Well, I would,” Spike hesitated, “But your music really is crap, and I have no idea what you see in that bloody stupid show of yours. Your clothes are hideous and do nothing for your appearance, and Twinkies have to be the lowest form of snack-food on the planet. They’re not chocolate, not crunchy, and taste down-right nasty when you mix them with blood.”

“Oh?” Xander said stepping back and crossing his arms over his chest. “And I suppose you would know what tastes good then, coming from a people that eat Marmite?”

Dawn sighed as she watched them face off yet again. It was bad enough they were far from a normal Sire and Childe. Far from normal vampires to begin with in all truth, but now, just when things were looking good, just when she thought she might get a show after all, they had to go in for round two.

She had the worst luck!

The End

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