Unexpected Aka Necromancer's Beginnings

DeBrant

"Oh...dammit..." Xander moaned, waking up from his little palette in the graveyard. He'd rolled onto a fallen gravestone, and slept on it for most of the night. The result was a horrible back pain and a few scratches. Not bad, Xander though, at least a demon didn't find me.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Came a familiarly annoying British voice from within one of the mausoleums.

"I jinxed it didn't I?" Xander asked himself under his breath before answering, "Well, I was trying to sleep..."

"Sleep?" came the voice again, incredulous, "Outside? In Sunnydale? In a graveyard?"

"Well, I made it through the night, didn't I?" Xander yelled back. He was permanently annoyed with Spike in the first place, and now the level of annoyance was rising, right along with anger and panic. He began to collect his things.

"Lucky little bastard..." Spike said with disgust, his face finally appearing in the doorway to the mausoleum, "If I hadn't-BLOODY HELL!"

Spike, who had been glaring at Xander, suddenly jumped back in complete terror. Xander, who was pretty much aggravated with the world, growled at him. "What?"

Spike didn't want to speak, but Xander could follow his eyes. Spike kept staring at his ear, or rather, just above it, then at his eyes. Xander could feel the irritation, and something else he couldn't really identify, rising.

"What is it!?"

"Look, chap. I'm real sorry about all the times I called you a loser, and how I tried to wreck your clothes, and all the times I tried to kill you and-"

"What's with the sudden apologies, Spike?" Xander asked, getting up. Spike cringed. "I didn't see any gypsies come by recently..."

"Look, chap, pal, buddy, friend, compadre, amigo-"

"What?" Xander asked, his anger mounting.

"Okay" Spike said, "Just promise me you won't make me a pet! I've seen that happen to a couple o' my old pals. That damn blue-eye had ole' Jonathon fetchin' him tea! It was bloody humiliating! I couldn't deal with that sort of rubbish! I just couldn't! I mean, I can't even bit anyone anymore! Don't make me a pet too!"

"Pet? Tea? What the hell are you talking about?" Xander growled. His back hurt and now his head was starting to itch from who knows what.

Spike was a bit shocked, but was able to ask, "You don't know?"

"Know what?" The young man asked, knowing that if he didn't release whatever was building up inside him soon, he would absolutely burst.

"What you are, you blasted numb-skull! Why your hair's turned white, why you're sleeping in a damned graveyard!"

"No I don't!" Xander yelled at him. As he did, though, he felt the whatever-it-was leave him, coursing through his body, out of his toes, and into the ground. When it left, Xander calmed. "Now, Spike, what exactly are you talking about?"

Spike nearly smiled, but thought better of it. "What I was talkin' about was the fact that you're a-"

He didn't get to finish, because Xander interrupted him with a shout of surprise. The ground beneath the young man's feet was moving violently, and as they watched, a figure covered in tattered clothing rose from the ground. Time had eaten away at the body, but they could tell it was female from the remaining pink cloth on it and the strands of dirty, rotted hair which hung limply from its skull. An eyeless skull seemed to take one look around, stare directly at Xander, stare at the sun, and then it disappeared in a puff of dust.

"Necromancer..."

"A what?" Xander asked. He seemed to be asking that a lot today, and considering today had just started, his level of cluelessness must have be higher than normal.

"A Necromancer, a raiser, an animator, a blue-eye," Spike rambled; then when he realized that Xander still had no idea what he was talking about, his expression turned to anger, and he shouted, "a person who makes dead people get up and do what he wants!"

"You mean I can raise the dead?" Xander asked nervously. Even as he said it, a little voice in his head answered him in the affirmative.

"Well" Spike answered simply, pointing at the mound of earth from which the now-dusted corpse had risen from.

"So, what? I was cursed? Or all this dealing with vampires has affected me in some way?"

"No, you bloody idiot..." Spike said, the condescending note back in his voice where it belonged, "You were born that way."

"Born that way?" Xander asked, recollecting his things. They had tumbled out of order when the corpse had risen, "You mean, I'm like some kind of zombie-making freak of genetics!?"

"Not exactly, mate. There are only three of you people alive at a time. You're like a Slayer or somewhat...But different."

"'But different'!?" Xander exclaimed, "What the hell kind of help is that, Spike? It's like telling me that an elephant is like a squirrel...but different! What the hell am I?"

"I already told you!" Spike answered angrily, trying not to tick off the young animator, "You can raise the dead, you can make them do what you want, and you can use Death's Flame."

"Death's Flame?" Xander asked, getting more confused every time Spike answered him.

"Yeah, that blue fire that keeps on coming out of your fingers..." Spike pointed.

Xander looked down to his hand, which he had been drumming against his pants leg. He hadn't noticed before then, but flickering at the edge of his fingertips was a little blue flame. Xander yelped, yanked his hand away from his pants, and stared at it, as if it wasn't the same appendage he'd lived with all his life.

"It's been doing that for the last five minutes, since that thing rose, so if it could have done damage, it would have, you dolt..." Spike said lazily.

Xander's attention shifted from his hand to Spike, and the look of fear metamorphosised into one of haughtiness. "I wouldn't be so annoying, Spike. I didn't forget what you were saying before, about having a vampiric 'pet'. Sounds interesting..."

Spike's entire manner changed as he heard just how serious the young man was. Just as the vampire had no real allegiance to the Scooby gang, Xander had no good feelings toward Spike. Then he perked up.

"Yeah, but you don't know how!"

"I didn't know how to raise a corpse either..." Xander pointed out smugly. At the look of fear that crossed Spike's face, Xander smiled. "If you don't tell anyone what I am, I won't turn you into a 'pet' as you so wonderfully put it. Deal?"

"Deal." Responded the vampire. "But with those white streaks in your hair, and the eyes and all that other rubbish, don't you think they'll find out anyway?"

Xander smiled again, and then pulled out his pizza delivery hat. He put it on. "No streaks!"

"What about the flamey hand thing?"

"I'll just be careful..." Xander said, not knowing if he was trying to convince himself or the vampire.

"Superman has a more water-tight disguise, I'll have you know, mate."

Xander, who had been picking up his blanket roll, looked up at the British vampire. "You read comics?"

"Partial to X-men personally, but I read a bit of the classic stuff as well" Spike said, half to himself, "The Shadow was a good one... Always liked him. Not to mention the- Hey! What's so funny?"

"Just never figured you as a comic book guy...you know, one day, you and I gotta have a long conversation about comics. You collect?"

Spike snorted. "Of course! With a lifespan like mine, hell yeah! Not that I'd ever sell a one o' them..."

Xander gave Spike a look with a bit more respect in it than usual, and walked off towards home to get dressed for work.

Part 4