Irony
Rated ADULT
Warnings: Hyena!Xander, Dominance battle, Slash
beta'ed by Velvet Virago
Part Seven
There was only one tech in the lab, sitting at a computer that looked like a prop from the set of Star Trek: TNG with flashing things and glowing things and gauge things and a whole lot of other things that I also didn’t understand. I felt an urge to kill the tech, or at least injure him enough to make the room safe. Yeah, hyena power…not completely of the good obviously, since the tech was some poor kid just doing his job. Now Dr. Pencil Neck? Him I could kill. “Have you isolated target 337?” Riley asked, in the same bored tone of voice a person might use to discuss the weather.
“The portal isn’t quite stable enough yet, but the energy levels are rising and we expect to be able to send your team through at 22:30 hours, sir.” The techie’s words meant exactly zero to me, but from Spike’s expression, I was guessing this was not of the good, in an apocalypsey sort of way. Obviously portals meant something to him.
“I don’t want any screw-ups like with 213. Run the sequence now,” Riley ordered. The tech glanced over at me and Spike, and I tried to look like I belonged…I put on the blankest, stupidest face I could.
“Are they on your team?” the tech asked, and my inner soldier-self noted that he was being as pointed as he could be without being insubordinate.
“Jafo,” Riley whispered quietly enough that humans wouldn’t have heard from across the wide room. Then he snapped out a brisk, “Do your job, soldier.” Spike looked at me, and I nodded back reassuringly. Yep, that’s us, just another fucking observer or two, so go right ahead and ignore us, I thought at the tech. I didn’t think mind control was going to be one of my new powers, but hey, ya never know.
The tech’s fingers fiddled with a knob and pressed a button and typed in a series of commands and then fiddled more and pressed more and typed more, and whatever kind of portal he was opening was so very not user-friendly because that was entirely too many buttons to press. Thank god I hadn’t followed my instinct to get rid of one more white-coat, because then none of us would have been smart enough to figure out that machine.
That was Willow type techie stuff, and to be perfectly honest, none of us had Willow type brains.
“All systems are responding,” the tech finally announced.
“Power levels?” Riley demanded.
“37.2, Sir.”
“Excellent.” I have to give Riley credit here…he moved so fast that I didn’t know what he was planning until he had the tech in a choke hold. The panicked tech’s feet kicked at his chair so that it went skittering across the room and crashed into the far wall, and then his struggles became more and more sluggish as Riley put pressure on the side of his neck. Eventually the tech stopped moving and Riley lowered him to the floor.
“Time to go,” Riley announced as he turned a key and flipped a toggle switch that made a door slide open on the far side of the room.
“And where exactly would we be goin’ then?” Spike asked even as we both followed Riley into a huge empty room where purple and blue and black swirls were starting to form at the far end.
“L.A.” Riley said tensely and then the swirls suddenly came together into a giant whorl shape on the wall. And hey, I always though that classic Trek had really cheesy special effects, but ironically enough, the swirls growing on the far wall looked just like those time travel thingy from that Trek episode where Kirk has to let the love of his life get hit by that car, and let’s just hope it wasn’t some omen cause the whole lettin’ a loved one die thing….I so wasn’t going there. Of course, it might just be an omen that I really watched too many sci fi reruns. Before I could make a decision on that one, Riley walked forward right into the whorl and disappeared.
“So, we trust the wanker?” Spike asked as he turned to me. Yeah, like I had any answers.
“Any place is better than this,” I said with a shrug.
“Don’t say that, pet. There are places out there ya don’t want ta see.” Okay, I had been perfectly willing to walk into a wall before that, but Spike’s doubts made my heart jump, and we were back to anything that scared Spike turned me into a pile of jello. But just because my legs were jello didn’t mean I wouldn’t still go. Right. So go.
I stood and looked at the wall. Spike held out his hand and for a moment I resented the idea of being held by the hand like a child, but then he took a deep breath, and I realized that he was just as scared, probably more so if the whole forgetting he didn’t need to breathe thing was any indication. After all, he was putting his life in Riley’s hands, and great, now I made myself even more nervous. It’s hard to trust the guy who got ya locked up even if he didn’t mean to.
So, I put my hand in Spike’s and we walked forward into the vortex without making eye contact. It’s a guy thing; when doing something unguyly, it doesn’t count as long as we don’t make eye contact. It’s like women with ice cream—if they eat it out of the container it doesn’t have calories. Same theory of physics involved. And I have been hanging out with way too many girls because a guy simply should not have access to that line of logic.
I felt the cold rush of wind, which was funny because there wasn’t actually any wind, and then I dropped out into another room, and oh shit—Demon Central. Riley was already backed up against the wall brandishing a broken chair with two or three angry, bleeding demons circling him. I pulled the gun, Spike snarled menacingly, and the angry bleeding demons spread out a bit to take all of us into consideration.
“Riley?” I half asked, half accused in a slightly sharp tone of voice.
“Whoa there, no need for a Jean-Claude Van Damme impression from the newcomers,” a smiling green demon insisted as he pushed his way smoothly forward. His hands were up in the surrender position, but I didn’t let that distract me from aiming my gun between the demon’s little red horns. Riley seemed to have the same thought because he shifted stance to square off against the speaker.
“Hey, you said Caritas was safe,” a demon from the crowd complained, and that answered one question. We were on Caritas, and as soon as I got back to earth I was going to kill Riley for getting us lost. I’ll admit, I once ended up in Bakersfield instead of LA when I started driving because I got the whole north-south thing confused, but at least I never ended up on another frikkin’ world.
The green guy waved a dismissive hand and beamed a hospitable smile towards the heckler. “Darlings, Caritas is the sanctuary where you can let go of all your worries, this is just a little glitch in the magical programming. I’ll have it fixed faster than Samantha can twitch her pretty nose, but right now let’s all just put down our weapons. Durthock, I believe you promised me a Clint Black number,” and damned if he didn’t wink at a big hulking demon, and that’s when noticed the stage, and oh god, this was a hell dimension. I just knew hell would have karaoke.
“Now cutie, just put the gun down and get Billie there to stop snarling at the customers. Caritas doesn’t permit violence by demons and starting tomorrow, we won’t allow violence by humans either.” At first I thought he was talking to Riley because yeah, I did notice that Riley was kind of cute….stupid and way too willing to follow orders, but cute in a way I’m never again going to admit noticing.
Then I realized that he was looking at me what with me being the only one with a gun, and some demon did not just call me cute. What the hell was it with me and demons anyway? At the speaker’s urging, others started wandering back to the scattered tables to listen to a Clint Black song get mangled so bad that even I didn’t even recognize it. Since the guy did seem to have saved us from death by demon mob, I eventually slipped the gun back in my pocket. The green guy didn’t miss a beat, though; he turned with that perfect-host smile and said, “sweetie, guns aren’t allowed here at Caritas so either check it with the doorman or I’m going to have to throw your cute ass out.” He glanced at Riley and continued, “and you need to put the wood down. Too many demons in here have an intense aversion to sharp bits of wood.”
I snapped a quick look at Spike, unsure what to do, but he’d put on his carefully neutral expression. Was getting thrown out of a demon bar really such a bad thing? Of course there was the whole demon world out there, and it had to be pretty bad if demons were seeking sanctuary in here. Okay, decision suddenly pretty easy, here. I took the gun out of my pocket and handed it butt-first over to the demon.
“Harris!” Riley snapped, and I involuntarily flinched at the tone and then I involuntarily felt an overwhelming rage at being publicly questioned, and then I very voluntarily turned around to do what I had wanted to do since the first Initiative soldier had appeared in that cemetery where Spike and I had been captured: I swung my hardest punch at Riley’s head. Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have done that since the hyena meant I had the whole super-strength thing, and like Spiderman found out, super powers require super responsibility. But the man had told the Initiative where we hunted, and he had given information about the girls that was going to get the girls captured, and he had gotten us lost in some other dimension so I couldn’t save the girls, and I was just having a bad day. Somehow I didn’t feel bad at all about taking it out on Riley.
However, the day got worse when my punch somehow missed Riley altogether and I found myself launched backwards and landing in a table. Yes, *in*, as in I hit the table and then promptly used my ass to break the table so I landed *in* the broken remains. And Harris luck was running true to form because the sudden pain in my ass suggested that not all of the table stayed on the outside. And here comes Harris luck again because that was Riley ready for a counter attack with his own piece of chair. I suddenly had a whole new appreciation for Spike’s whole not being able to attack people thing. If I couldn’t attack Riley, Riley sure as hell shouldn’t be able to attack me, and yet here he came with his wood. It wasn’t fair, but that was just my luck, especially today.
“Listen you little shit, I just threw my career away to try and save Willow and Tara, but I’m perfectly happy to call the Initiative and tell them where your pet vampire is.” I heard Spike growl from behind him, but strangely enough Spike seemed to have more patience than I did because he didn’t try to knock Riley’s head off. And even more strangely, Riley ignored the growly vampire in favor of yelling at me. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Hostile 17, but the more I see, the more I think you’d be better off if someone removed him from your life. When Buffy and Giles discussed keeping Hostile 17 at your house, I warned them that you were too impressionable to trust with a job like that, and I think you just proved my point. He’s gotten to you, Harris.”
You know how people talk about seeing red? I always thought that was a stupid expression. Really, who sees red literally? Well, I can tell you that I literally saw red as my hyena vision cut in to such an extent that the whole world was reduced to sepia tones with the warmblooded critters sort of a deeper reddish brown than the objects like tables or the unliving like Spike. I felt the growl from the bottom of my soul, and I pushed myself up. I wouldn’t lie on the floor with an enemy over me.
“Mate, think it’s time for you to be leaving,” I could hear Spike, but the reasonable tone of voice and lack of cursing didn’t quite seem very Spike-like. I started walking toward Riley, so angry I was almost vibrating. I expected him to go nose to nose with me, but he didn’t, he started backing up so fast that he stumbled into a table of tentacled demons playing cards…and were those Heinekens on the table? Did they have an Off-world Export Division? I shook my head as I looked around he room.
The karaoke machine was a Toshiba, the demon had been singing Clint Black, and the tables were all sized for humans despite the inhuman occupants. I turned to the green- skinned host who had just returned with a much larger demon, who looked like a big pile of rocks.
“Where are we?” I demanded, entirely too angry to play nice.
“You’re in Caritas, the sanctuary in the middle of the rough and tumble city of the angels.” Okay, for a half second I thought angels as in…well…angels. Then it occurred to me that the land of angels probably wouldn’t have demons, but the City of Angels had plenty. After all, Buffy’s own Angel had had gone to LA just to fight them.
“We’re in LA,” I said.
“And now that you have your bearings, it might be time for you to find some other place in LA to destroy. They have some nice bars about three blocks down on your right where the owners replace the furniture on a nightly basis. I’m sure Elashi can point them out.” The green demon gestured toward the huge brown beast at his side who started lumbering forward.
“Oi, we didn’t do anything, get rid of Captain America there,” Spike protested as he crossed his arms in an ‘I’m not moving’ gesture.
“You sure as hell have done something to Harris, and when we get back to Sunnydale, I’m going to make sure you pay for that,” Riley growled at Spike.
“Why are people talking about me like I’m not here?” I demanded, but only half-heartedly as I looked around at the demons playing cards and listening to horrible singing and clapping politely as the creature finished. Some of them looked close to human, maybe vampires or primals or half-breeds, which didn’t make them less dangerous, but just the idea of the Initiative taking them made my vision shift toward the browns and reds again. I shook it off and tuned back in: Spike and Riley were busy snapping at each other while the green guy talked about releasing negative energies. Great, a New Age demon. Just what I needed.
“You planned on capturing all these demons and sticking them in your labs,” I said to Riley right in the middle of Spike’s diatribe on Riley’s parentage.
“That’s confidential,” Riley immediately turned to face off with me, leaving Spike sort of spluttering to the side, and I sympathized because having an enemy turn its back on you was really infuriating. Again, Spike showed more patience than I had by simply turning his own back and storming over to the bar. From the looks of things, he was trying to intimidate the bartender out of a drink.
“No, that’s despicable,” I corrected Riley. “If you want to kill demons who are attacking people, I’ll stand on the side and cheer you, I’ll carry your ammo, I’ll give you a hand, but you’re planning on attacking demons who seem more interested in cards than apocalypses.” Yeah, and only a child of the Hellmouth would know the plural for “Apocolypse”.
“Wait a minute there, tall dark and grouchy, what are you talking about?” Green guy asked.
“The Initiative…a group of soldiers whose mission is to capture, experiment on, and kill all demons.” Okay, that got a few people’s attention. Several heads of various shapes, sizes, and colors turned my way.
“Harris, we need to get back to Sunnydale.” Riley put on his nice, reasonable tone. Yeah, I’d heard that before. Didn’t like it then, either.
“You’re right, we do. Because you gave the Initiative information on Tara and Willow, we have to save them, but that ‘we’ doesn’t include *you*.”
“So you’re going with him?” Riley nodded toward Spike, his tone dripping disgust and hatred in every syllable. Spike responded with a two-fingered salute.
“He’s more trustworthy than you are,” I pointed out.
“He’s a vampire, you can’t trust him.”
“I didn’t say he was trustworthy in the being willing to trust him, I said he was just more trustworthy than you,” I snapped back, and I was incredibly proud that I had managed to say all that without one babble, stumble or stutter.
“Okay, enough with the pissing contest, boys, there’s one sure way to solve this. Sing.” Wow, had I missed something? It sounded like the green guy wanted me to sing, which made sense of the ‘not even’ kind.
“What?” Riley demanded, and I silently seconded that even if I wasn’t about to publicly agree with anything the soldier said.
“It’s my gift. The name’s Lorne, and this little piece of heaven where you can get the best Sea Breeze in town is where I provide readings for creatures great and small, but I can’t read the aura without you providing the sweet sound of music first.”
“Forget it,” Riley said with a snort as he backed away…which seemed to be Riley’s reaction to anything new. I bet his mother never made him try new foods; I bet that's where his life went wrong. Personally, I figured the worse thing that could happen was that I would embarrass myself publicly, and frankly I’d done that so often lately that it hardly mattered anymore. At least I had some clothes on for this humiliation, which made a nice change.
“I’ll make you a deal, you let me call Sunnydale to tell my friends they’re in danger, and I’ll sing whatever you want,” I offered.
Lorne considered that and then smiled, head tilted. “I think you just might have an interesting enough story to make that a good deal. Phone’s by the bar.” Spike was already there, I noticed, hoisting a pint mug containing something that sure didn’t look like beer. I headed over and stood beside him.
The bartender slid me a phone, and that’s when I noticed the smell. Blood. Fresh human blood. Spike had an expression of pure, utter bliss on his face as he drank. Good for him, and please let that be volunteered blood, not that Spike would care, but my conscience was about ready to pop with guilt already, what with the Anya issue and the danger to Willow and Tara and the whole three year secret thing that I obviously had to ‘fess up about, because Riley wasn’t going to keep his mouth shut for longer than two seconds. If it wasn’t for the fact that my girls were in trouble, I would have voted for heading towards Canada and not looking back. Then again, I tried that whole extended road trip thing once already, and didn’t get very damn far. Being that I had no car at all now, I couldn’t imagine even getting out of the city.
I quickly dialed, and the phone in the dorm rang three times before the answering machine picked up. Okay, if the Initiative was tapping the phone, I needed to leave something simple enough that the girls would get it without tipping off the government.
“Hey girls, look, I’ve been thinking about that retreat, and I think it’s a bad idea in an Ampata kinda way, and I’ll try to catch you later.” I hung up, smug that I’d dropped a hint about not everything being what it seemed. Then it occurred to me that the government knew we’d escaped so any message I left would probably be erased before the girls got it. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Okay, try again, Xan-man. I dialed the Magic Box.
“Magic Box, how can I help you spend money?” Oh yeah, that’s my Ahn.
“Anya, it’s Xander.”
“Are you calling to beg my forgiveness?” she demanded in a hard voice that sounded far more demony that a non-demon really should.
“Uh…what?” I know *I* didn’t do anything beg-worthy, but who knew what the imposter had said?
“If you aren’t prepared to crawl back and beg for my forgiveness, I just don’t see why I should talk to you.”
“Anya, you don’t un….”
“You broke my heart and crawling from Seattle to here on your hands and knees so that you show up with bloody and torn limbs would be a good start.”
“I need to talk to…”
“And if you think that means I’m just going to take you back, you’re wrong.”
“An…”
“Because I am a liberated woman, and I will not wait around for you to decide whether or not you’re ready for a commitment.
“Jus…”
“And I don’t care how many good orgasms you give.”
Dial tone.
Spike snickered, and my guess was that he’d heard the orgasm comment. My day was just getting better all the time.
There was no answer at Joyce’s house, and no machine picked up. Damn. I left a message with Willy, but from the completely unconcerned tone, I guessed that he wasn’t going to break his neck getting in touch with Buffy to pass it on. I hung up the phone and put my forehead down on the bar. Actually, I would have liked to hit someone, but that hadn’t worked out so well last time, as the throbbing pain in my ass reminded me.
“I think we need to find a way to get to Sunnydale,” I said to Spike without lifting my head.
“Considerin’ it’s day out there, I think I’ll be stayin’ here,” Spike answered in a contented tone of voice, but then he was drinking human blood for the first time in months, so from his point of view all was right with the world…or at least all was better.
“Fine. Riley, how much money do you have?” I turned around, but the table I broke and the chair that Riley broke and Riley himself were all gone, and come to think of it, the smell of Riley was quickly fading under all the other smells, not the least of which was me. Spike could get away with not bathing, I obviously couldn’t.
“So, will that be a bit of Metallica or maybe a classic Beatles song?” Lorne asked as he appeared at my shoulder. I turned back to the bar and promptly put my head back down. I heard Spike snicker, and suddenly a song came to mind. Also a coffeehouse, and someone with a guitar and an earring that looked like it might be a clip-on. Perfect. I lifted my head, looked at straight at Spike and started singing.
“No one knows what it’s like to be the bad man, to be the sad man, behind blue eyes.
No one knows what it’s like to be fated, to be hated for telling only lies.
But my dreams they aren’t as empty, as my conscience seems to be.”
I hummed a bit where I didn’t know the words before I picked up again.
“My name is vengeance, that’s never free-ee-eee.” As I stopped, I wondered if I’d even gotten the words right. Spike had a sour expression on his face, and I just smiled sweetly at him. No sense being embarrassed myself if I couldn’t dish out a little to him, too.
“Oh ducks, you’ve got quite a path in front of you.” Lorne started. “If you don’t succeed, more than just Sunnydale is going to suffer. And on a personal note, you and your vampire here need to get a few things worked out before the world puts an end to your Romeo and Juliet act.”
“Yeah, Juliet,” Spike said in the most salacious tone possible, rolling the name in his mouth like it was the naughtiest thing that ever… uh, naughtied.
“Hey, I’m the Romeo here,” I retorted.
“Pet, you don’t look like the kind to do the seducin’, you look more like the seducee,” Spike grinned and stepped close so that we were once again chest to chest, so very close that I could smell the blood on his breath. One wicked eyebrow was raised in challenge, and oh boy, hyena instincts knew what to do about that.
“I’ve read the Watcher’s journals, Spike. The only person you ever seduced into your bed was Harmony, and I’m not so sure I’d be bragging about that,” I pointed out with an evil smile of my own.
“Had my wicked plum for over a hundred years, didn’t need ta seduce anyone else, but I’ve had hundreds willin’ ta crawl in my bed. You’ve had exactly one, and she would’ve settled for anyone who could’ve helped her become more human.” That was a little mean, but I didn’t back down.
“Had two, actually… can’t forget a certain Slayer. Plus I’ve had more demons chasing me than you can shake a stick at, including your wicked plum.”
“That was a soddin’ spell, and she wanted ta eat ya, not set up house.”
“She offered me forever.”
“She was out of her mind at the time.”
“She was always out of her mind.” At that Spike flashed his game face at me, and I felt myself shifting into my own glowy-eyed face. I wanted to throw him down right there on the bar, and prove just who was going to seduce who. Though “seduce” was maybe a little on the mild side, considering just what I wanted to do to the sexy, muscular, incredibly good-smelling demon who-
Lorne was suddenly right there, green hands gently but firmly pushing us apart. “Boys, boys…when I suggested you two needed to figure this out, I didn’t mean in the middle of my club.” My vision slammed back to normal when I realized people were watching us. Holy shit, what had I almost done in the middle of an entire room full of people who were watching with great interest, and that should not be exciting me even more. My cock strained at my pants so painfully that it actually balanced out the soreness in my ass from falling into the table.
“Right, need to find a way to Sunnyhell.” Spike said, switching gears immediately. “Any ideas?”
“None that you’d like,” I said as I tried to think disgusting thoughts. Problem was that most of my favorite delustifying images were no longer as disgusting as I remembered them being. Blood, guts, and gore had taken up residence in the “wow that makes me hungry” side of my brain, and I couldn’t come up with an image to make my stubborn dick go soft.
“Right, need to find Angel,” Spike said, and bingo…there’s an image to make a man’s cock deflate. Mine, anyway.
“I so wish I didn’t agree with you.”
Part 8
I stood in the afternoon glare on the street looking up at the building where, according to Lorne, everyone who was anyone knew about the vampire with a soul. Personally, I’m thinking that with as many enemies as Deadboy has he should consider keeping a lower profile, but that’s just me. Taking a deep breath and then immediately wishing I hadn’t because of my own smell, I braced myself and then pushed open the door. Oh yeah, stereotypical private dick’s office with the dirty windows and 1950’s furniture, and why was I so amused at Angel obviously trying so hard to be the perfect dick? Still amused by my own joke, I wandered toward a door where voices now started to rise in frustration.
“…walked all over you, again” proclaimed Cordelia’s shrewish voice, and I flinched in memory of just how much damage that voice could do. No, no, no, no, no. I’d agreed to face Angel, who could so easily make me feel three years old and 2 inches high. I never agreed to face Cordelia, who’d honed that same skill until she could make me feel 2 years old and 2 centimeters high. Oh shit… too late, she’s seen me. Just don’t show fear, I reminded myself.
“And look who’s back from Seattle, did they get tired of having you around or were you just not as good at getting bagels and lattes as you were at getting donuts and sodas?” Okay, I could do this. And I could do this without getting bitchy about everyone buying the whole Seattle story, and I did not just think of myself as bitchy.
“I need to talk to Deadboy,” I said as I walked farther into the room. No fear. Nice and calm, yeah, just keep thinking it and maybe you’ll believe it, I told myself.
“Xander,” a voice said from the door. Yep, just as I remembered- Angel’s famous knack for managing to make my name sound like a greeting and a request for me to go away all at once. No one could say the vamp didn’t have talents.
“Angel,” I replied, trying to sound as neutral and friendly as I could. Spike had insisted that Angel would do anything to help his precious Slayer and her little friends, and I really hoped that was the case. Either way, I wasn’t going to piss him off before asking for a favor… of course, from his tone just seeing me seemed to have pissed him off.
“What do you want?” he asked with a sigh as he walked all the way into the main room, and I took that as a good sign, I mean four words in a row was positively talkative for Broody Boy.
“Buffy and Willow are in trouble.”
“Yeah, well she can just get herself right back out on her own, can’t she?” Cordelia snapped, and okay, her response in general didn’t surprise me; it wasn’t like those two loved each other, but for all of Cordelia’s bitching, she always came through in the end. The real surprise was the look on Angel’s face. Instead of the worried concern I was expecting, he looked like someone had slipped lemon juice in his blood, and I can say that from experience since I once did that to Spike after he kept using the last of my shampoo without telling me. The trick was to clean the whole place with lemon-scented cleaner first, but right… Angel… saving girls… don’t think about Spike.
“Angel?” I asked, unsure about what would cause such a strange reaction from a vamp that normally started drooling on himself at the mere mention of Buffy’s name.
“She knows how to take care of herself,” Angel announced offhandedly before turning around, and this was so not the plan.
“Did you not hear me, or did I slip into a freaky version of my world when I went through that portal?” Seriously, this was confusing.
“Xander, I know you haven’t been talking as much with Buffy and Willow since you’ve moved, so I’m sure they forgot to mention that Buffy and I have decided to stay out of each other’s way and each other’s cities.” From the way Angel refused to face either me or Cordy, I could imagine his expression- broodier than ever, with a side order of hurty. Part of me wanted to cut him some slack while another part really wanted to kick him while he was down. A big part. A really, really big part. I shoved those thoughts down by reminding myself that I needed his help, so fun with Deadboy would have to wait til later.
“Okay, one-I never moved, and two- who are you and where the hell is Angel?”
“Xander…”
Upset won out over reason, and I didn’t even listen to what he started to say before babbling on. “You’re always the one jumping on the ‘save Buffy’ bandwagon, well except for that time when you didn’t because you were all ‘it’s her destiny to die’, but you even came through then, and you can’t go all ‘Moving On Guy’ now, because they need you!”
“Well, he’s not the one who’s moved on, is he?” Cordelia asked, and then I realized what bug had crawled up Angel’s ass.
“You’re mad about Riley? He’s a creep,” I said, and I couldn’t keep the anger out of my voice. Not that I tried very hard.
“It’s not about…his name’s Riley?” Angel turned back toward me with an almost amused expression on his face.
“Yeah, stupid name. Riley Finn. Of course his name is perfect compared to his job, which is working for a secret government organization that traps, tortures, and kills demons.”
“She’s made her choices, and I have to make mine.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing- maybe this was some weird alternate reality after all. Angel turned to walk away again, and I dashed forward and put myself between him and the far door where he was heading.
“Not so fast there, buddy. Are you really saying you’re okay with the whole government operation because seeing as how you’re a demon yourself, I would think you would frown on the whole demon-torturing plan.”
“Buffy called me back when Spike showed up. They’re doing what they need to do to keep the Hellmouth safe.”
“They’re planning on taking Willow and sticking her in a lab,” I snapped back. If he didn’t care about Buffy because of some star-crossed lovers shit, fine. If he didn’t care about the vampire he’d all but sired getting tortured and dusted, fine. But he had no right to ignore Willow being in danger.
“Willow’s never done anything other than try to help you, and you’re doing your whole broody, my girlfriend’s gone and left me country music … thing.” My voice got slower at the end as I sort of lost track of my own train of thought, and why did Angel always make it hard for me to talk without turning into a babbling idiot? Stupid vampire.
“Buffy’s boyfriend is after Willow?” Okay, that expression was almost funny, in a this really isn’t the time to be amused at Angel’s confusion kind of way.
“Sort of…I think he wants to help Willow and Tara, but he filed reports on them being witches, and now the Initiative put them on the ‘not entirely human’ list, which is not a good list to be on what with the torture and the experiments and the lack of bathroom facilities.”
“That’s where you’ve been,” Angel said in a totally shocked voice which was different from his normal voice in that it actually had emotion in it. “You've been in the Initiative.” He didn’t look quite as broody now. In fact, that face looked almost angry.
Cordelia snorted. “Oh please, Xander’s as human as you get. His only claim to fame is that he is totally unfameworthy with his normalcy.”
“Xander hasn’t been totally human for several years now,” Angel answered quietly, and I couldn’t have been more surprised if the floor opened under my feet. Not exaggerating, I’ve seen the ground open up under me, and I was actually less surprised. Of course on a Hellmouth, you expect the ground to open under you, and I never expected Angel to be the one who noticed anything different about me.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cordelia demanded.
“Did you merge?” Angel asked me, and I didn’t even try to pretend I didn’t understand.
“Kinda had to. It was either that or be trapped down there getting needles shoved in me while they took Spike out in a dustbuster.”
“Which is where Spike belongs,” Cordelia added, and I turned to her and growled. I thought I was expressing myself in a completely normal way; however, Cordelia’s little shriek and sudden retreat behind a giant desk left me thinking I might have gone off into hyena logic again. Okay, note to self: no growling at people.
“Where is Spike?” Angel interrupted.
“Still at Caritas, we had a small problem with the whole sun thing, so he decided to stay behind. Well, that and he finally found a place that would serve him human blood.” I gave an exaggerated stage shudder and a goofy smile for Cordelia’s benefit. It bothered me that she looked at me like someone she didn’t even know; even with the hyena, I was still Xander. I mean, it’s not like she didn’t know about demons and primals and things that go bump in the night. Then again, she’d had a front row seat for my old pack eating the principal, so maybe I couldn’t totally blame her.
“Angel, you are not thinking of helping him.” Cordelia said imperiously--and that’s the Queen C. I remembered- still immune to my powers of charming dorkitude.
“Cordelia…” Angel had his tired, “please just don’t make me fight about this” tone of voice… and I found myself actually feeling some sympathy for the guy, remembering the days when Cordy had made me that tired, and thank god I’ve now got the hots for Spike instead of her. Frankly, he’s a lot less scary.
“Fine. That’s just fine, Angel. Faith tries to kill you and you forgive her. Buffy walks all over you, and you’re still defending her right to treat you like…like you aren’t a person, and you know what I mean so don’t even say it, and now you’re going to help the bleached idiot who stuck hot pokers though you…do you see a pattern here, Angel?” She was on a roll.
“I’m not helping Spike, I’m helping Willow and Buffy.”
“Why do I bother? Just don’t come to me if all these people you try to help end up treating you like the dirt on their shoes.” She made her little washing-my-hands-of-this gesture.
“Hey, I wouldn’t…” I started, but Cordelia cut me off with a glare. “Okay, maybe I would have, but not any more,” I amended myself. God, Deadboy torture was one of my favorite hobbies, and she was just sucking the fun right out of it by making it sound almost wrong.
“And what has changed?” Man, she wasn’t backing down.
“I need his help?” I went for cute-but-clueless, but from her expression of doom, I think I missed the cute part. Luckily, Angel saved me by interrupting again.
“Come on, we’ll go to Caritas through the sewers.”
“Okay, I know you did not just say sewer.”
“Don’t worry; wading around in some sewer water can only make you smell better,” Angel answered, and I was momentarily struck dumb at the sight of Angel making a joke…a bad and overly obvious joke, but an actual joke nevertheless.
“Hey! It’s not my fault I haven’t had access to a shower for a while.”
“Yeah, just stay downwind.” Angel told me. “Cordelia, get the car and bring it over to Caritas, and if you can find some extra clothes, I really don’t want to have to smell Xander all the way to Sunnydale.”
“Hey, standing right here,” I protested, and somehow Angel always managed to do that…to talk around me or over me or just as if I wasn’t in the room. I realized that was why I had never liked him…well that and the whole he got Buffy and I didn’t, which was so not fair. I never would have gone totally evil on her like he did, but then girls are always attracted by the tortured souls. Which didn’t explain Riley, because he was more into verbally torturing Spike than he was into being a tortured soul himself. And really, I wasn’t all that interested in attracting girls anymore, so Angel’s ability to command all the attention in the room shouldn’t bother me. But it did anyway.
He got Buffy, he had Cordelia doing the whole “no one gets to torture you but me” thing that was so part of her flirting behavior, even if Angel didn’t notice it. But the one that really bugged me? He was Spike’s sire. It’s like everywhere I wanted to be, he got there first. Well, except Cordelia; I never got there at all… hell, I never made it past second base with her, and for the sake of all the innocent souls in L.A., I hoped Angel didn’t either, flirting or no flirting. Realizing I’d stopped listening to the pointless sniping that sounded so much like what we used to do in Sunnydale before the girls went all collegey on me, I focused again. They were still discussing my body odor, even as Angel started for the elevator.
“You try smelling nice after a while in the Initiative. They’d probably cut off all your hair.” I finally answered. I could have imagined the shudder in Angel’s shoulders as I followed him into the elevator, but I didn’t think so.
The travel through the sewers was nasty and disgusting and smelly and so much more pleasant than the reunion between Spike and Angel. One hour, countless “bloody wankers”, three death threats, two drinks, and one Barry Manilow song later, Angel finally agreed to go with us to Sunnydale to help and Spike finally agreed to let Angel come to Sunnydale and help. Of course Angel had already agreed to go and Spike had sent me to get Angel to help, but they had to do their little ritual mutual pissiness, so I just leaned back and listened to the sound of the two of them figuratively bashing heads as I tried to figure out just how large of a splinter I had jammed in my ass.
Once all the mutual flashings of gameface and bringing up of hundred year old grudges was over, Lorne even offered to let us use his rooms to clean up. I’m guessing it was either his attempt to keep Angel and Spike from scaring customers away with the yelling, or me from driving them away with my odor. Despite Angel’s oh-so-funny prediction, I did smell worse, but that might have had something to do with the broken grate on the bottom of the sewer that Angel forgot to mention until I was face down in the muck. I hate that vamp. Okay, hate is a strong word, but he annoys me until I want to pull out all his hair one strand at a time.
All of which led to this moment as I listened to Spike and Angel argue as I stood in a bathrobe. And again with people talking about me while I’m standing right here.
“You bloody wanker, he’s still soddin’ mortal and that wound could get infected.”
“And what exactly do you care, Spike? I won’t have you playing games with him.”
“Who’s playing games? He risked his neck to get me away from those butchers, which is a damn sight more than you ever did.”
“You thought I’d do something after the way you treated me last time?”
“You bloody had it coming after you took Dru away from me.”
“You took her back just fine… right about the same time you worked with a Slayer to send me to hell.” I flinched at that one. If Angel was calling Buffy “a Slayer”, things were not of the good.
“The other option was stakin’ ya.”
“You don’t have it in you, William.”
“If ya mean a heart cold enough ta stake my own sire, you’re probably right. I’ll leave that bit up to you, mate.” Wow, that was once big flinch on Angel as he reacted to that comment. Spike had told me enough about Darla that I knew staking her was a lot harder than Buffy had ever understood. However, none of this helped me.
“Guys,” I started.
“William, yer treading on thin ice, boy.” Oh god, that had more Angelus than Angel in it, I thought as I heard the accent thicken.
“Guys!” I nearly shouted this time.
“What?” Four yellow eyes turned to me as each vampire snarled the same answer.
“This isn’t getting the wood out of my ass, so Angel, get out and Spike, some help please.”
“Xander, I don’t think…” Angel started, and Spike cut him off mid-sentence.
“That’s the thing— you never did think, except with your dick of course.”
“Hey, enough, both of you,” I insisted as I slipped a hand in under the robe and felt the trickle of blood that wouldn’t stop now that I had gotten out of the shower. Yeah, I knew something was wrong, but I was thinking splinter-something, and instead I got chunk of table-something. “Spike can pull the thing out since he’s already seen me naked more times than I can count,” I said as I felt the edge of the wood sticking out of the lower part of my ass, and suddenly I realized what I had said.
I looked up, and Angel was staring at me with an absolutely unreadable expression, well, unreadable with hints of shock and horror.
“…with the being locked up together naked like animals and not enjoying it all and really not enjoying it in a together kind of way because we were definitely not together, well we were together in a cell but not together and in together and just no.” Okay, every bit of cool I’d acquired while dealing with Riley was now officially out the window, and I bit my tongue to keep from saying more. I hadn’t even done anything yet and I was already freaking about the gay stuff, and really the gay stuff wasn’t even a blip on the freaking-out radar. Spike just snickered as he physically shouldered Angel out of the room, clearly enjoying it.
“You’ve just been uninvited, so sod off, Peaches,” Spike announced with a final shove before he slammed the door to Lorne’s room with Angel on the other side. He turned to me with a smirk over what he clearly hoped was an innocent expression. “So, let’s see your ass there, pet.”
“Spike, I just need the wood out… we don’t have time for anything else.”
“And what ‘anything’ ya got in mind, pet?”
“Spike,” I said in my best warning voice, which never actually worked in the past, but now it made Spike stop and look at me thoughtfully. I pretended to be Willow with her resolve face; from the twitch in Spike’s lip, I suspected that I probably just looked constipated.
“Right, but time for anythin’ later?” Spike cocked his head to one side, and for one brief shining moment I would have sworn he looked almost unsure… okay, that really shouldn’t have been a shining moment since enjoying Spike’s uncertainly just sort of makes me seem petty and kinda like a big jerk face as Willow would say. But after a lifetime of feeling like I’m always the one trying to fit in, it felt good that someone actually wanted to fit in with me…and I am so not thinking about things fitting because I need the wood pulled out of my ass. Oh god, now I’m babbling to myself. Stupid, sexy vamp.
“Lots of anything,” I promised just as Spike’s face was starting to take on a guarded look. Oops, less introspection, more reassurance. “Just get the wood outta me, huh?” I asked as I dropped the robe and then flung myself face down on Lorne’ s bed before Spike could see anything interesting, like maybe a cock that was already half hard and rising quickly despite my insistence that this just wasn’t the time. Yeah, Spike had seen it before. No, I don’t know why I felt like hiding now. And no, Xander-logic doesn’t have to make sense, apparently.
I heard Spike’s footsteps behind me and then the bed tilted as he climbed behind me. I kept my head buried in the pillow, trying to think unlusty thoughts, but I could still sense him leaning over me. Then I felt his cool hands lightly touch my ass, and yep, that’s me waving the white flag on the trying not to get hard front. His hands sent shivers of need and pleasure that traveled the length of my whole body… right until he poked the skin around the shard and then it felt like he was sticking me with a rusty nail.
“Hey!” I protested as I tried to sit up.
“Oi, stop squirmin’.” Spike pushed me back down, and my first instinct was to fight him, to sit up, to show him that I wasn’t going to be told what to do. However, my first instinct wouldn’t get the wood out of my ass so I let him push me back down, and to make his point clearer he actually straddled me. I was painfully, hornily aware of the coarse fabric of the stolen uniform rubbing against the backs of my naked thighs as he lowered his weight on me, pinning me down. I swallowed a growl even as his next couple of prods were a little more gentle, his cool fingers gliding across my hot skin as he shifted slightly to get a better look. I stifled a tiny moan of frustration, both at how turned on I was getting, and how long he was taking to pull the damn shard.
“Spike, I want you to pull it out, not make friends with it,” I snapped.
“I’m tryin’ to figure out the angle it went in so I don’t tear a bloody hole in your arse tryin’ to get it back out.” Okay, that made sense…it didn’t help my cock, which was going to get a cramp if I didn’t stop laying on it when it was so exquisitely hard…but it made sense.
After that he mumbled some more under his non-existent breath, but instead of paying attention I just gritted my teeth and tried to ignore Spike’s various curses directed at shoddy craftsmanship, incompetent carpenters, and mostly at one Riley Finn.
Finally Spike seemed to decide on his plan of attack, and those long, elegant hands had settled in on either side of the shard so that one rested on my lower back and one was on my upper thigh and I was so not getting hot or horny or libidinous or salacious and thank you, Ahn, for teaching me the words for what I was not feeling as Spike’s fingers moved over my flesh. He was leaning in closer, I could feel him blowing over the heated skin, the air cooling it as the breeze angled in to tease the sensitive skin between my cheeks, and what the fuck….
“Spike, what the hell are you doing?” I demanded as I tried to push up even as I twisted around to see Spike in full game face centimeters from my ass.
“Wot?” he asked as he turned yellow eyes my way, but that expression was entirely too innocent. Spike never looked innocent because he never was innocent and that feigned look of innocence just wasn’t.
“Don’t have tweezers, do we?” I opened my mouth to complain, but actually, no… we didn’t. “Have ta trust me then, won’t you?” Spike asked with a grin, which combined with his game face looked more demonic than trustworthy. And that so should not be turning me on even more, but it was.
“Just… you’d better not bite me,” I said as I bowed to the inevitable even as I lay back down, “without permission,” I added without even thinking. Spike snickered, but I was too busy fisting my hands in the pillow on either side of my head, bracing for the pain and trying to ride out the lust because this was just not the time to be wimpy or lusty.
“We’ll see about that,” he said, and I would have responded, but suddenly the piece of wood was yanked free, and I yelped in pain as the rough edges scraped over the sore wound that was already swelling and heating with infection.
“Oh sweet Jesus,” I yelped as soon as I could catch my breath to speak. Spike dropped a bloody piece of wood on the silk sheets…a fragment as thick as my thumb and nearly as long, disgustingly slick with blood, and how the hell did I walk with that in my ass?
“How’s that for gratitude? I fix your ass, and you go thankin’ the wrong bloody dead guy.”
“Huh?” I managed and then I felt a satiny, soothing coolness glide across my sore wound, leaving behind a damp trail that evaporated and calmed the feverish skin. “Guhya,” would be the closest description of the sound I made as the sweet touch came again. It was only the fourth or fifth pass, when the touch wandered south down the curve of my butt toward the valley that it occurred to me that Spike didn’t have a cloth back there.
“Whoa, what are you doing?” I demanded as I twisted around. I tried for shocked and horrified, but I think it actually came out kinda breathy, which was understandable considering I was literally trying to catch my breath at the sight of Spike with his yellowed eyes and ridged forehead running a long tongue across my hot flesh. Half naked Spike with his eyes half closed as he licked me in a sensual caress, and when the hell did he get half naked, not that I really cared since I now had a wonderful view of his muscles flexing and cording as he moved up my body, still licking so softly. He finally raised his head and looked right at me.
“Just helping with the infection, vampire saliva,” he said with a wicked smile which shifted into a leer as he opened his mouth and ran his tongue from my leg, up and over the curve of my ass and finally down into the naughty valley and oh definitely panting now. Spike growled low in his chest…a much more rumbly, deep sound than his normal “I’m going to kill you one day, Slayer”-type growl, and wound be damned.
So, the vampire wanted to play…and the vampire wanted to get at *my* ass… and the vampire wanted to growl at me. And actually, that sounded fair since I knew that was exactly what I wanted. But if he wanted my ass, he was going to have to have more than just a talented tongue. I started a growl of my own, and I could see Spike’s gaze dart up to catch mine even as I half turned towards him. When Spike pulled back to start the lick lower down, I twisted hard and got a foot on his shoulder, which I used to kick him off the bed entirely, and thank god the whole unfair spell thing didn’t work back here.
Spike stumbled back and caught himself on the dresser with one hand so that he leaned back in a very James Dean sort of pose. Rather than tell me to stop, he lowered his head so that he looked from under his lashes, and even from the bed I could see the bulge in his pants, which was fair what with my cock bobbing like one of those stupid little toys that jocks put in the backs of their cars. When Spike started to smile wickedly, the tip of his tongue appearing from between his lips, I launched myself at him with a growl.
I was hoping to take him down in a single shoulder thrust to the stomach, but Spike twisted out of my way so that I got more wall than Spike with my strike. With a feral grin he leaned into his own attack, pressing me into the corner between the dresser and the wall, as he twisted the arm he’d grabbed as I charged. A series of clinks and tinkles suggested that we had just knocked over everything on the dresser, but who the hell cared? I was caught between admiration for his maneuver and frustration that his refusal to submit was keeping me from my own goal. As Spike pushed me harder into the wall, I let my limbs go limp for just long enough to surprise him, and then I dropped to the floor and rammed my shoulder into his crotch. All’s fair when it’s love and war. Besides, from the bulge in his pants, I certainly hadn’t hit him hard enough to distract him from the main event.
When Spike’s feet went out from under him in a torrent of curses, I lifted so he was thrown over my shoulder with his head hanging down my back. Before he could figure out to bite me… which he would as soon as he recovered from the whole shoulder-crotch move… I bodily threw him on the bed and then flung my whole weight over him, strategically placing my knee in his crotch as I struggled to grab his wrists. Considering one of his hands had my hair and was pulling my head to one side while the other was digging bleeding furrows into my arm, this really wasn’t easy. Spike writhed when I captured the hand that had bloodied my arm, and I realized he was driving fangs toward my now-exposed neck, and I used my knee to warn him that I wouldn’t submit so easily.
“Enough,” roared a voice from the door that made both of us freeze mid-mutilation. I looked up to see Angel standing in the doorway, his nostrils actually flaring either in anger or maybe because of the blood smell which was pretty strong with the now-open wound in my ass and the lines of red decorating my arm.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Ah, Spike was just helping with the infection,” I answered just as Spike snarked, “Surely you remember what it looks like even if ya don’t get to do it anymore.” I pushed myself up and off the bed as I scrambled for the robe I’d earlier dropped, and I pulled it on before Angel had even stopped shaking his head.
“I don’t deserve this… I really don’t,” he announced to the air over his head. “The sun is down and I’m leaving for Sunnydale in five minutes. Personally, I hope you two don’t get dressed by then because I’m not explaining this to Buffy.” Spike opened his mouth to comment on that, but Angel spun on his heel and left, slamming the door a whole lot harder than he needed to. I looked at Spike, and he just shrugged as he rebuttoned the top of his ugly green pants, and for several seconds the need to get to Sunnydale battled with the need to rip those pants off.
“Move your arse, I’m not goin’ to listen to the pouf complain about us makin’ him late the whole way up there,” Spike said as he threw a shirt at me. Nice…Angel brought me the most god-awful shirt in creation: green with weird upside-down lookin’ leaf things, and who wore shirts this ugly? Right. Back on track. Sunnydale. Business first and then… well, just ‘and then.’
I gave Spike a wicked smile of my own as I pulled on the shirt and went hunting for the jeans Cordy had brought.
Part 9
I made sure Spike's head was tilted toward the rear view mirror before I brought my injured arm up to my mouth and slowly licked the small drop of blood that had formed. Okay, “formed” might be the wrong verb since I had actually been pinching the arm to keep it bleeding as I sat in the back of Angel's convertible. From the way the mirror reflected the empty passenger side seat where Spike was sitting, I knew he could see me as I closed my lips over the wound and sucked. Spike softly growled before Angel's hand snapped up and readjusted the mirror so that he could actually use it as a rear view mirror. Even with the wind rushing by, I could catch wisps of lust coming from the front.
I smiled sweetly from my place in the middle of the back seat as if I had no reason to feel bad about anything. I briefly wondered if my innocent look looked as un-innocent as Spike’s. Angel’s deep sigh certainly suggested that he wasn’t buying the act.
I sat back pinching my arm to bring more blood to the surface as Spike grabbed the cigarettes he’d gotten off some guy in the bar. He fumbled with them and then shoved them back in his pocket. He worried at the quickly fraying edge of a cuff on that army-issued shirt that just looked so damn wrong on him. And Bingo! Spike’s hand went up the mirror readjusting it, and I brought my arm up to my mouth, this time slowly licking the length of the wound. Oh hell, I hadn’t had this much fun since… okay, I hadn’t had this much fun since I still believed in the whole Santa Clause fraud. Spike choked back a soft moan, and Angel’s hand nearly broke the mirror snapping it back into its original position.
I indulged myself by sticking out my tongue when Angel’s head was bent toward the mirror, and I could hear the mightily put-upon sigh even over the sound of the air rushing by, which was really quite loud what with the windows all rolled down, and melodramatic much there, Deadboy? Of course I didn’t actually say that out loud, since I really didn’t want to walk home, and now that we were driving past the Sunnydale sign, getting kicked out of the car was an actual possibility. Spike glanced at the sign as we went by it, and damned if he didn’t look a little wistful, and what was all that about?
“You two need to dial it back before we get to Buffy’s. Xander, she will not take your new attitude well if you can’t tone down the primal instincts.” Angel sounded gruff. I decided to go on playing innocent, just to piss him off, which was always fun especially since I had sort of promised not to torture him about his whole soul-having broodiness, and I wasn't willing to take on Cordy even with a primal spirit.
“What are you talking about?” I asked as I casually licked my arm. That’s when it suddenly occurred to me that as of two days ago I wouldn’t have taken an attack as foreplay, and I wouldn’t have taken a punch at Riley, and I really wouldn’t have growled at Cordy. Lusting after Spike? Okay, that I would have done, but I’d have been a lot more private about it. And yeah, the licking my own blood… maybe Angel had a point.
I stopped and put my arm in my lap. “Oh.” I amended my answer, “yeah, I can do that.” Spike snorted.
“Don’t start anything,” Angel said through clenched teeth, and for a moment I thought he was still talking to me, but nope. That one was for the bleached wonder who promptly flipped Angel a two-fingered salute, and why do the English use two fingers? Isn’t the one good enough for them? I counted up English weirdness based on the few English people I knew until Angel pulled up in front of Giles’ apartment.
That’s the point at which I knew Angel didn’t have to worry about me because just being back here made me feel like the Zeppo again. How many times did I have to deal with these inadequacy issues before I started feeling like… okay, I’d settle for not feeling like the muck on the bottom of Cordelia’s shoe. Although really in all fairness it should be Anya stepping on me at this point, so I don’t know why Cordy’s little jabs always had a way of slipping past my defenses.
“Pet?” a concerned voice called, and I looked up to discover the two vampires were halfway to the door and looking back at me. Oh, great. Way to hide the insecurities there, Harris, the soldier thoughts kinda sneered out at me. Great, I’m even insecure around myself. Or parts of myself. Ya know, there could be a real growth industry in demon psychiatry on the Hellmouth.
“I am not going to growl, I am not going to growl, I am not going to growl,” I sort of chanted as I got out of the car, fighting down a need to growl at a pack that hadn’t even noticed me gone.
“Xander?” this time the concern came from Angel, which was definitely freakier than the concern from Spike. Spike had hated the old me in a ‘wish I could eat you’ kind of way, but Angel had always hated me for being me. Concern from him was just… wrongness in all kinds of ways.
“God, I’m fine already,” I snapped as I stalked past them and rang the doorbell. Giles opened the door. Same old Giles with that same old constipated expression and the same old glasses coming off his nose just to polish them despite the fact they were clean so why did I suddenly feel this creepy crawling feeling looking at him? Oh yeah, the hyena instincts were going to be hard to get used to, but I did my best to be good old Xander.
“Hey G-man. What’s the word?” I asked with a big goofy Xander-grin as Giles stepped aside. I took that as an invitation, walking in to see Willow and Tara sort of hovering over each other on the couch, and I was never so happy to see anyone in all my life. They were safe. The Initiative didn’t get my girls. Of course, the Initiative must have freaked them out because Willow had the wide-eyed near panic expression and Tara's eyes kept darting around the room nervously. Yep, serious upset vibes here.
“Wil….” I would have said more but a small, solid weight hit me from the side, and talking suddenly dropped on my priority list. I heard myself growl even as I twisted around to return the attack. They weren’t going to take my Willow without a fight any more than they took my Spike without a fight, and no I was not going to think about just how badly that had gone.
I had no more than twisted in my adversary’s grip and reached around to grab and rip at the vulnerable throat when I let myself freeze for that vital second as I spotted my attacker. Unfortunately, Buffy didn’t freeze, and I found myself stomach down with her straddling my waist like I was her pony. Okay, I’ll admit that there was a day when getting squeezed by Buffy thighs was a fantasy, but one-demon man here. And in my fantasy, my face wasn’t pushed into scratchy apartment carpeting that smelled like demon goo. Before the hyena, I might not have noticed that, but now I couldn’t escape it, and ew.
“Buffy, what the hell are you doing?” I demanded as I tried to push up to a hands and knees position. She grabbed my hair and yanked it back with what must have been slayer strength because damn that hurt. As in bringing tears to the eyes kinda hurtage.
“Hey, watch the human!” I shouted, and that’s when I noticed the non-humans in the group. Spike was flinging himself against an invisible doorway where his invite had obviously been revoked and Angel was having limited success in trying to keep him back. Angel's back was to the invisible barrier and obviously he didn't have an invite either because the barrier wavered as he braced himself against it and struggled to grab Spike's body as Spike struggled to get in. Giles had a crossbow aimed at the door. My instincts said fight to get to the mate, but I also knew that look on Giles’ face- he was in Ripper mode. Deciding that I needed to, for once, use the few brain cells I actually had access to, I let myself go limp in Buffy’s determined hands.
“Geez, nice welcome home party,” I complained as my hands were wrenched behind my back, and cold steel snapped around my wrists. “Anya keeps trying to get me to try this stuff, but I have to tell you it really isn’t my kink,” I tried to joke as Buffy pulled me to my feet. I struggled against a need to lash out before she could finish making me as helpless, but I took deep breaths and tried to control the non-Zeppoly instincts.
“It’s okay, Xander. Whatever Spike’s done, we have books on thralling and possession, and we’ll fix this.” I could tell from the voice that Willow was crying, but I was facing Spike who now that the fight was over stood outside loudly growling his displeasure in game face. I could tell he was still struggling to reach me, his legs shifting and flexing even as Angel held his upper body immobile in his much larger embrace. I couldn't look away from his expression of fury and near panic.
“Spike hasn’t done anything. You guys on the other hand, I’m thinking I may need to start a list for you guys.” I tried for a non-confrontational, look-at-Xander-goof-around kind of tone, but from the way Giles turned to give me that Ripper look, I’m assuming that came across kinda bitchy… I mean cranky because I’m so not the bitch here." I shot a quick look over to Buffy before I returned my gaze to Spike who had broken out of Angel's grasp and threw himself against the invisible barrier again.
“Giles, as much as I would like to blame Spike for this, he hasn’t done anything wrong… lately.” Angel said wearily, as physically grabbed Spike by the neck.
“Get off me, you over-gelled poufter!” Spike complained, but the words came out a little muffled since his face was still shoved under Angel’s arm. I had to restrain my own need to growl as Angel physically manhandled my man… vamp… *mate*.
“I am not likely to take your word, now am I?” Giles said coldly as he turned back to Angel. Oh yeah, now that was the full on Ripper glare. And now I was really starting to wonder just what the hell was going on here because there was too much testosterone in this room, I could feel the need to fight making the hairs stand up on my arms.
“Spike hasn’t done anything except save me from a peptide demon and fix my leg and there was that one time when he threw me into the wall when I accused him of being a coward, but with his headache and all that kinda evened out,” I babbled, quickly glossing over the whole longer-leash-on-the-chip issue.
"Pep-tuli demon ya git, and as I never touched your leg, pulled a hunk of wood out of your arse," Spike corrected me from outside, and I tried to ignore the need to answer his challenge since I was still chained up and Giles still had the crossbow, and the girls still looked a little panicky, so I just kept right on with my interrupted tirade.
“And then we have the friends who didn’t notice I was gone and who knock me down and chain me up when I show up again. Gotta say, not feeling the love here people.” My head knew that they hadn’t really turned on me. Riley's comments made it really clear that the Initiative had tricked the Scoobies, but the pack instinct left me feeling betrayed. I would never have accepted some Willow voice on the phone no matter what it said. If she had been upset enough to leave, I would have followed her to the ends of the earth to find out why. And yet, she accepted a Xander voice that wasn't even Xander.
“I think you’ve made your displeasure with us perfectly clear,” Giles said in tones so frosty that I wondered if he wasn’t an evil twin. Hey, weirder things have happened.
“Um, I think I haven’t. Whoever you’ve been talking to on the phone wasn’t me.”
“Riley told us about your claim about being in the Initiative, but we all talked to you.” Buffy broke in at this point. She also nearly broke my arm giving me a little tug on the chain. Gotta hate slayer strength, well except when it’s saving the world. “If you want to worm your way out of this, you’re going to have to find a better lie. But whether or not you’re a complete jerky idiot, which you are, you’re still our friend and we’re fixing whatever Spike has done. Right before I introduce Spike to Mr. Pointy.”
“Touch him and I’ll string your guts, slayer,” Spike growled from the other side of his invisible barrier, and Angel sighed heavily.
“Not helping, Spike,” I pointed out.
“If you are not controlling Xander, I fail to see why you should be so concerned,” Giles pointed out with ice practically dripping from his words.
“Spike, stop it or I’m going to throw you in the trunk until morning,” Angel snarled with a quick flash of gameface as he jerked Spike’s head up roughly. I was the only one who had a right to hurt the mate! I snarled and pressed forward to challenge Angel only to have Buffy jerk me back from behind.
“Right, he hasn’t done anything at all. You’re the same old human Xander,” she snapped in a sort of breathy voice, and I realized she was struggling to hold me back. I pulled to get to Spike, and she held the chain between my wrists. I shot Angel a dirty glare, a glare that pointed out that Spike was mine and I was the only one who had a right to make him submit. Spike quieted and Angel let him go. And damn it, seeing Angel succeed in making Spike submit where I’d failed just made me hate the brooding bastard more. I pulled harder, this time getting a good two or three inches forward in my quest to rip Angel apart. In fact after Spike’s performance, I might rip a few guts out of him too for submitting to Angel right in front of me.
“Good heavens,” Giles exclaimed as he looked at me, and suddenly I noticed the colored lighting when Giles didn’t have colored lighting, and oh yes. Once more I prove that I have the self-control of a gnat. I stopped pulling so suddenly that Buffy didn’t have time to compensate and we both ended up sailing backwards. In keeping with my recent luck, we both crashed ass-first into Giles’ coffee table. Yep, in as in Buffy’s butt going through it first. At least this time she was the one risking ass injury instead of me.
“Are you okay?” I asked as I sprawled on top of her. A section had managed to stay together, so my legs were awkwardly hiked up over two legs and a piece of wood connecting them, and with the chained hands, I really couldn’t do anything other than squirm a bit.
“Holy shit, stop moving,” Buffy swore and Willow and Tara appeared in a flurry of words.
“Oh goddess!”
“Are you o-o-kay?”
“Just hold on, I’ll get you right up.”
“I have his left arm.”
The girls pulled me up and I turned around to see Buffy lying in the ruins of the table.
“Damn it, this was a new blouse and now look at it,” Buffy complained as Willow and Tara helped her up. She put a finger through a quarter-sized hole to illustrate her point. “What were you even thinking, Xander? The council should give a clothing stipend, this is just unfair.” Oh god, and there was the Buffy poutage.
“Are you alright?” Giles asked her anxiously, totally ignoring the clothing tirade.
“Better than your coffee table,” Buffy admitted. Giles rounded on me.
“And when exactly were you planning on telling me you’d become a primal?” Giles demanded in a tone that made me physically step back. Hey, not stupid when it comes to keeping my skin in one piece. Maybe I sometimes look stupid in the self-preservation portion of the slayage, but if I didn’t look after myself, I would have been eaten long ago. And those instincts were telling me that Giles was about two seconds away from taking pieces of my skin off in large hunks.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to explain. Xander never stopped being a primal after the hyena incident.” Angel interrupted. “Spike didn’t do anything to him; Xander hasn’t been totally human for a number of years. That’s why the Initiative took him.”
“Oh good lord.” Giles sat down heavily on the nearest surface, which happened to be a large stack of books, but I don’t think he even noticed that.
“A primal? An animal primal with the spirits and the super strength? Like when he tried to… you know… with Buffy? Oh goddess.” Willow retreated to the couch and Tara followed, soothing her mate with small touches on the arm. Buffy just stood there looking shocked.
“So, can we come in now?” Angel asked mildly. Spike just leaned against the wall silently, but I could smell the fury and the frustration rolling from him.
“Angel, Spike, come in, please,” Giles said in quiet voice with a vague gesture of his hand toward the living room.
“Oi, about bloody time. Rude leavin’ guests…” Angel and I both issued a curt, “Shut up, Spike” at the same time.
“I think we need to talk,” I suggested. I scooted a step closer to Spike and Angel before I then inching back toward Buffy. Okay, I admit it, I had no idea where my loyalties lay, and as much as I still wanted Spike, his submission to Angel had a small part of me wanting to beat the shit out of him. Time for that later. First order of business was getting unchained. These stupid handcuffs were really digging into my wrists.