Nexus Chapter 23
The drive from Sunnydale to Los Angeles had been mostly silent and wholly uncomfortable. While Angel drove the big Plymouth through the night, frowning into the darkness, Xander snuck occasional glances at the vampire´s stony face, and wondered just how big a mistake he was making. After all, he´d just walked away from his life, apartment and job and all, on the word of Angelus, who´d just been submerged under Angel´s soul. He trusted Angelus, but still!big risk.
With that auspicious beginning, Xander had been pretty sure that things wouldn´t go smoothly even before he´d stepped foot into the Hyperion Hotel. To complicate matters, someone was up in spite of the late hour. As they entered the lobby, they found a young woman frozen halfway down the stairs, huge deer–in–the–headlights eyes fixed on Angel.
Angel had stepped forward, a hand outstretched. “Fred!”
The fragile looking young woman scrambled backward, almost falling on the steps, her face a mask of fear.
“Fred, it´s okay. It´s me, Angel.” The pain in the vampire´s voice was palpable.
Xander had looked from the girl´s wide, panicked eyes to Angel´s pained expression and stepped in. “So, you´re Fred? I´m Xander. You know, Buffy and Willow´s friend? From Sunnydale?” Casually, he stepped between Angel and the girl on the stairs, wearing a sunny grin. “Don´t worry. It´s Angel, alright. I was there when he got resouled. Saw the whole thing.
Fred looked at him, looked at Angel, still half–poised for flight.
Angel tried again. “Fred, it really is me, and I´m sorry!I didn´t mean!”
“Oh, Angel. It´s!it´s alright. I mean, of course you didn´t mean it. I mean, it´s, well it´s okay. It wasn´t really you, right?” The girl´s smile was pasted on, and Xander could see her trembling.
“Angel?” Xander´s voice was soft. “Why don´t you get the stuff out of the car while I walk Fred back up to her room?”
“Yeah. I´ll do that.” Xander could almost feel the shame and sorrow rolling off of the vampire as he turned and walked back out, his head hanging low.
Xander walked slowly to the stairs, not really surprised when Fred shrank back a little at his approach. Stopping with one foot on the first step, he grinned up at the girl, rolling back his sleeve to press fingers against his wrist. “Pulse strong and steady. Wanna feel?”
She regarded him uncertainly for a moment, then suddenly giggled, rolling her eyes in a self–deprecating fashion that charmed Xander. “Oh, I´m being silly, aren´t I?”
“No, I don´t think so. You´re just being careful.” Xander stepped up cautiously, extending his arm. “Seriously, wanna feel? I´m all breathing, pulse–having alive guy here.”
She studied his eyes, and the shrewdness in her gaze reminded him of Willow. After a moment, her shoulders straightened and she said “No. I believe you. So, it´s really Angel?”
“Yep. Really Angel, soul and all. You´re safe.”
“Oh, well!good.” Suddenly, the girl buried her face in her hands and sobbed quietly.
Xander bounded up the stairs. “You okay?” White knight nature coming to the fore, he circled the slender shoulders with his arm, already charmed by this little scrap of femininity.
“I´m fine.” Fred dashed away her tears and smiled shyly up at him. “It´s just been hard, you know?”
“I bet.” Hearing Angel returning to the lobby, he guided the little Texan up the stairs. “Let´s get you back to your room. So,” Xander hesitated for a moment, not sure he even wanted to ask, “what did Angelus say to you that had you so scared?” He hadn´t gotten much information from Angel, but the vampire had assured him that the only one he had really hurt was Cordelia, and boy, was he ever going to have a word with Angelus about that when he got a chance.
Fred was silent as they got to the top of the stairs and started down the corridor. At the door to her room, she stopped and raised sober eyes to Xander´s. “It was nothing. It doesn´t matter.”
Xander studied her face for a time, then took her warm little hand in his. “Loyal. I like that.” He jostled the slender fingers a bit, smiling. “Don´t worry, Fred. You´re safe. And it was really nice to meet you.”
She beamed up at him shyly, making him fall ever so slightly in love. “Thanks, Xander. It was nice to meet you, too. I hope we´ll be friends.”
“I´m sure we will. Sleep tight, okay?” Xander lifted the delicate little hand and kissed it, enjoying the resulting breathless giggle. As he walked away, he heard Fred bolt herself in for the night.
At the top of the stairs, Xander met Angel bringing up their bags. The vampire´s face was shadowed with sorrow. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah. I think so. What did you—Angelus, I mean—say to her?”
Angel shrugged awkwardly, but didn´t answer. “Come on, I´ll show you to your room.” He headed down the hall, Xander following after. “Here. We keep a couple of rooms ready; sometimes we have clients who need to stay for a while.” Angel opened a door midway down the long hallway. “It´s pretty basic, but I hope you´ll find it comfortable.
Xander tried to bite his tongue, but couldn´t. “So, we´re not sleeping together, then.”
Angel avoided Xander´s eyes, looking down at the floor. “We both need a little time, don´t you think? I´m just down the hall!” he indicated a room near the head of the stairs “!if you need anything.”
You. I need you. Xander swallowed, then nodded his head jerkily. “Okay then. Separate rooms it is.” He wandered into the chamber he had been given, dropping his bag and testing the mattress with one hand. “I´m sure it´ll be fine.”
“Yeah.” Angel lingered in the doorway. “Well, goodnight, then.” But he didn´t leave.
“Yeah. Goodnight.” Xander tried to swallow down the hurt and disappointment he felt as he stepped to the doorway, his hand on the doorknob, waiting for Angel to leave.
The vampire started to move away, then paused, facing away from Xander. “Fred kind of likes Wesley. Angelus!I!said something about accents being sexy, then I!” He swallowed heavily. “I said I´d use mine while I!while I raped her to death.”
“Jesus.” Xander closed his eyes, his hand convulsing on the doorknob. “Kinda wish you hadn´t told me that.”
Angel winced as the demon screamed out his outrage at him for telling his boy such a tale (even if it was true), then turned back to Xander. “There´s a lot to work out, Xander.”
Xander swallowed, hard. “Yeah, I guess so.” The two of them, vampire and man, stood looking at each other for a moment, then Xander stepped back and murmured, “Goodnight, Angel.”
“Goodnight, Xander.” Xander swung the door slowly shut.
Cordelia rose early after another restless night. Opening her closet door to survey her rather vast wardrobe, she considered her options, trying to strike a balance between style and comfort; it was probably going to be a long day. According to the information she´d had from Giles two nights ago, they could probably expect Angel back sometime soon.
Rummaging through the meticulously hung clothing, she paused, frowning. Giles, usually Mr. Talkative Information–Giving Guy, had been unusually close–mouthed, cagey even, about Angelus´ stay in Sunnydale. Just the bare minimum of facts, that Angelus was “contained,” and would be resouled within 48 hours.
In the past, Cordelia had, with some justification, been called shallow and superficial. But anyone who thought Cordelia Chase was stupid just wasn´t paying attention. The fact of the matter was that she was downright shrewd, especially when it came to secrets. And Cordelia smelled a secret. A big rat of a secret.
And when it came to her friends and family, no one kept secrets from Queen C. Quickly, Cordelia dressed and did her hair and makeup, then closed her bedroom door behind her with the light of battle in her eyes.
As she strode down the corridor, a door opened a crack and she heard a soft “Pssst!” Turning, she saw Fred, in her nightgown, peeking out from her bedroom. “Cordy,” the shy young woman scanned the corridor as if she were about to impart a state secret. “Angel´s back.”
Cordelia stepped closer. “When did this happen?”
“Last night.” Fred hissed softly. “I couldn´t sleep, so I went downstairs for a cup of tea, and there he was, coming in the front door.”
“Oh, Fred.” Cordelia felt a pang of compassion for the shy young woman. “I´m sorry you had to face that alone. Even though we knew he was coming back, it must have been hard!”
“It was, a little, even though I knew it was just Angel. But, hey, we weren´t alone. Your friend Xander that you told me about was with him.”
Cordy´s eyebrows rose. “Xander? What´s HE doing here? And with Angel? They were never what you´d call friendly.”
“He said he needed a change of scene.” Fred smiled shyly. “He´s really nice, Cordy. And cute! How come you let him get away?”
Cordelia sighed. “Boy, is that a long story. Listen, Fred, will you wake up the others and warn them so they don´t totally freak when they see him? I´ll go see if he´s up yet.”
Fred nodded once, reaching for her robe. Cordelia continued down the corridor, heading for the stairs. Halfway down, she caught the aroma of bacon and eggs. Uh huh. Angel was cooking; the broody remorseful sucking up had begun.
She took a deep breath, then inched open the swinging door into the kitchen. Her boss stood at the stove, scrambling eggs. At the table, another man sat with his back to the door. She might not have recognized Xander from behind; he was taller, broader, more substantial. But one hand was nervously toying with a fork, tapping a rhythm on the table top, a very Xanderesque tic.
“Well, good morning.” There was a sharp note in her voice, and both men started, a little guiltily, she thought.
A short silence, then, “Cordy!” Xander sprang up and caught his erstwhile girlfriend into a bear hug.
Cordelia leaned into the embrace, noting Xander´s physical maturity; the rangy boy of a few years ago had developed into a powerfully built man. Hugging back, hard, Cordy acknowledged that she had never completely gotten over her soft spot for Xander. “Welcome to L.A. It´s good to see you. Are you staying for a while?”
Sharp–eyed, Cordelia noticed the glance Xander shot towards Angel before he answered. “Maybe. I needed a change of scenery, y´know? Little relief from the hellmouth?”
“Well, that´s great!” Stepping back from the embrace, Cordy gave him a megawatt grin, smacking him lightly on the arm. “We could use the help here, and it´ll give us a chance to catch up.” She frowned slightly. “So how come Buffy´s willing to do without you?”
“Oh, hey. You know. Dispensable, here. Worst case scenario, they learn to live without donuts, right?” Xander´s grin was fixed, a flash of pain crossing his features.
Cordelia noted Angel´s turn from the stove, a scowl on his face. Interesting. But she was soon distracted by her regret at the hurtful things she had said to Xander in the past. “C´mon, Xander” she said softly. “Everyone knows you´re Buffy´s right hand guy.”
Xander, always quick to forgive and forget, grinned down at her. “Yeah. Well, she knows I´m always a phone call away.”
Beaming up at him one more time, Cordelia turned her attention to the vampire at the stove. “And you, mister. Welcome back.”
“Cordy. I´m sorry about!everything.”
Accepting the vampire´s awkwardly returned embrace, Cordy hurried to reassure. “Shoot. Don´t worry about it. What´s a little concussion among friends? Not really your fault, anyway.”
Stepping back, Angel smiled at her tentatively. Cordelia returned his smile, then reared back and cuffed the side of his head firmly.
“Ow.” The vampire complained softly, reaching up anxiously to smooth down his disarranged hair.
“What was that for?” Xander turned concerned eyes from Angel to Cordelia. “You just said it wasn´t his fault!”
And when did Xander start taking up for Angel? Cordelia made a mental note as she replied cheerily. “It wasn´t, but still, so very satisfying.” With that, she stepped closer to Xander and delivered a robust slap to the back of his head.
“HEY! What did I do?”
“You could have called us, you morons.” Things settled to her satisfaction, Cordelia took her seat at the table. “So, when´s breakfast ready?”
At that moment, the kitchen door swung open, admitting Wesley and Gunn. Fred was only a few paces behind. Lorne followed moments later, earning a startled stare from Xander before the two were introduced.
Breakfast was an awkward affair. The AI gang were obviously struggling with their memories of Angelus´ recent visit, striving not to hold the demons´ words and actions against their boss, who strongly resembled a whipped puppy at the moment. Xander, as a newcomer, provided a welcome distraction.
Throughout the meal, Cordelia was uncharacteristically silent, shrewdly observing nuances. Angel, desperate to make amends, urged second helpings on all of his friends, but Cordy noticed that he was particularly solicitous of Xander, heaping food on his plate, wordlessly refilling his juice glass as soon as it was empty.
As the meal wore on, Cordelia began to toy with the theory that Xander had something on Angel, something that made the vampire eager to please. Blackmail? Cordy frowned. In spite of the long enmity between Xander and Angel, Cordelia found it hard to believe it of the open and honorable Xander she had known. But there was definitely something going on, something that both of them were keeping quiet about. Oh, yes. She smelled a rat, alright. A big one. Perhaps even the proverbial Rodent Of Unusual Size.
Just as Cordelia´s bewilderment was reaching unendurable levels, Fred unwittingly provided a clue when she asked timidly if there was any jelly. Angel bade her sit still and hurried to get it for her. Retrieving a jar of strawberry from the fridge, he stretched to set it in front of her, his other hand briefly resting on the back of Xander´s neck as he did so. The young man paused and leaned back into the quick touch, his eyes drifting closed in pleasure. The whole incident only lasted an instant, but Cordy saw it.
Caught between suspicion and disbelief, Cordelia slipped away at her first opportunity, making her way up to her room, where she rummaged through her address book then picked up her phone and punched in the number.
“´Ello?”
Cordelia was silent for a moment, disconcerted, then “Spike?! Spike, why are you answering Buffy´s cell phone?”
On the alert, Spike paused. “Cordelia? Is that you then, pet?”
“Don´t “pet” me, you!You. Why are you answering Buffy´s phone?”
“Because it was ringing, luv.” Spike responded patiently, then asked provocatively, “Are you sure you don´t want me to pet you? Could be fun, y´know.”
“Bite me, Spike” Cordelia barked, then winced at her unfortunate choice of rejoinders.
“Oooooh!” Spike shivered theatrically, then, beginning to really enjoy the conversation, whispered softly, “I can be there in two hours, tops, luv.”
“Great! I can fertilize my philodendron with your ashes by noon. Let me talk to Buffy, you undead idiot.”
“Sorry, beautiful. The Slayer´s already off to work.”
“Work? Buffy´s got a job? What kind of job? And, incidentally, why doesn´t she take her phone with her?”
“´Spect she just forgot it. And, for your information, she´s the new guidance counselor at the high school.”
After a short pause, Cordelia spoke again. “Buffy? Is the guidance counselor? At the high school? That´s it. Everyone that has been in, at, or near Sunnydale recently really is brain–damaged.” There was a pause over the phone line, then Cordelia said, conversationally, “I kind of wish you were here, Spike.”
Spike was a little taken aback, but still, by habit, open to flirtation. “Oh, yeah? Why´s that, luv?”
“Because, if you were here, I could smack the stuffing out of you, too.”
“Oi!” Spike was caught between indignation and amusement. “Been handing out corporal punishment, then, have y´, Cordelia? Who to?”
“Well, Angel, for one!”
Snickering, Spike offered his opinion. “Don´t tell me you hit him on his fancy head? If so, pet, no wonder y´r talkin´ o´ brain damage. Got to be careful, y´ know. That´s a mighty tiny little brain rattlin´ around in Peaches´ big caveman cranium. Who else, then?”
“Xander, if you must know.”
“Good on you, then!Wait, the whelp´s there? In L.A.?”
“Yes, which brings us back––finally–– to the original purpose of the call.” Cordelia provided acerbically. “So, when will Buffy be back so that I can talk to her?”
“Well, that´s hard to say, luv. Got meetin´s all day, don´t she? Can´t I just pass on a message?”
Out of patience, Cordelia rolled her eyes and sighed. “Okay, and try not to screw it up, okay? Just tell her that Angel´s back, and Xander´s with him, and I´d love to know what the hell is going on. Can you manage that much?”
“Sure can, luv.” Spike put a finger to his lips to warn Buffy to silence as she bounced into the room. “I´ll tell th´ Slayer you called. Bye, now.”
Shrugging into her coat, the Slayer watched as Spike clicked off the phone, raising a suspicious golden eyebrow at the vampire. “Okay, who was that, and why didn´t you want me to talk to them?”
“That was Cordelia, luv.” Spike ambled closer to Buffy, trying to seem casual as he helped settle her coat onto her slender shoulders. It was colder than usual in Sunnydale, he fretted. “She was calling to tell us that Angel was there with Xander in tow, and ask what in the hell was goin´ on. Apparently, Peaches and his boy aren´t sharin´ information.”
Buffy went still, eyes round. “Xander went to L.A.? With Angel? Well, shit! What does that mean?”
Spike shrugged and oh–so–idly took the scarf from Buffy´s limp fingers and wrapped it around her neck, fortifying the slender column against the cold. “Damned if I know, luv. Gonna call him and get the skinny?”
Buffy frowned, then shook her head. “Nope. When they decide to tell us what they think they´re doing, I´ll listen. As far as I´m concerned, they´re on their own until then.” She shrugged. “And, with Cordelia asking questions, God help them.” Making a vague motion of dismissal, Buffy picked up her purse and looked for her keys. “Not like we don´t have our own stuff to worry about.” She smiled as Spike located the keys on a nearby table and tossed them to her. “Listen, faculty has conferences this afternoon, so the kids have a half day. Uh, could you!?”
“Make sure Bit doesn´t throw a kegger? Sure, luv.”
“Thanks.” Buffy opened the door, hesitating on the threshold, looking back. “Spike!”
“Pet?” Spike, not intended by nature to be up at this hour, stood sporting his first–thing–in–the–morning look, a little sleepy–eyed, bed–head ungelled and tousled, rumpled T–shirt untucked, bare toes curling against the cold floor.
Suddenly inexplicably flustered, Buffy murmured “thanks” again, and fled into the sunny morning.
Spike stood staring after her, head tilted quizzically, until a late model Mustang drew up in front of the house, distracting him. “Dawn! Some spotty git in his mum´s car is here, presumably to take y´ t´ school.”
“Be down in a minute, dad.” The teen´s voice held a note of amused tolerance.
“´ERE! ‘E´s honking the bloody HORN!” Standing well back from the dangerous morning sun, Spike glared out the picture window and worked himself into a rage. “Rude little bastard! Well, you´re not goin´ anywhere with him if he can´t show you th´ respect of comin´ to the bloody front door instead o´!”
“Spike!” Skipping lightly down the steps, silken hair swinging, Dawn cut the vampire off in mid–rant. “I TOLD Cameron not to come to the door.”
Blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Eh? Well, ‘ow come you don´t want us to meet ‘im? Somethin´ y´ don´t want us to know ‘bout the kid?”
“Nothing like that.” She wriggled around, checking purse and backpack for various necessities while Spike repeated his outwear ritual, zipping up his littlest girl´s coat and wrapping her scarf snugly around her neck. “I knew if he came to the door, you´d either want to ask him a million questions, or else you´d want to tear his head off. Either way, I´m late for school” She forestalled further objections by pecking Spike´s cool cheek, a move that invariably rendered the vampire easier to deal with. (Buffy ought to try it, Dawn thought in passing.)
“Half–day today, so I´ll be home by 1:00.”
“I´ll see you then, and if y´ve got greasy Cameron fingerprints all over y´, I´ll know it, Bit, so keep yer distance.” Spike gave the teen his best menacing glare.
Dawn responded by turning in the doorway to show him her tongue, then ran with a flip of her (too bloody short!) skirt.
Spike turned and trudged up the stairway, muttering to himself. “What kind of nancy–boy name is Cameron, anyway?” he grumped. Third door down, he rapped quickly. “Oi! Seven forty–five, Red. Leave the bloody snooze button alone and get yersel´ up and out; nine o´clock class, yeah?”
No answer, and no heartbeat on the other side of the door, either. Spike, half–asleep this time of the morning, tutted at himself for forgetting that the Witch was still across the pond, then further abused himself for being a total wet git for feeling uneasy about one of his girls bein´ so far away, where he couldn´t protect her.
Didn´t like havin´ his routine interrupted, that was all. He touched the door lightly, imagining Willow´s muzzy “Thanks, Spike. I´m up,” to be followed by the sound of the covers being thrown back and the pitter–patter of little witch feet.
“Right, then. I´m off to bed.” Having made the announcement to the empty house, his self–appointed morning rounds taken care of, the vampire took himself back down to his cot in the basement to finish his sleep.
Resting his head glumly on the parapet of the building where he was keeping lookout, Xander tried to tell himself that he was just feeling sorry for himself; things weren´t totally hopeless yet. Just, GLACIERS moved faster than his Deadboy. And Angel SO did not need to know that Xander occasionally still referred to him that way in his head. But a guy´s got to blow off steam somehow, and he sure as hell wasn´t getting anything else blown. Or off. For. Four. Fucking. Weeks. Which wouldn´t be so bad, except for the fact that, every night, his vampire was forty feet down the hall, lying in his bed in all his naked splendor, apparently resisting Xander´s proximity with no problem whatsoever.
Okay, moving on, and quickly. The last thing he needed to add to his current misery was yet another hard on, again. Not when he had no immediate way of relieving it. When he trained his binoculars on the roof across the street, he could see Fred, also with binoculars, and he in no way wanted to scandalize the sweet little Texan by treating her to a show. Besides, Angel of the way sensitive nose was down there somewhere, and he didn´t know how close.
With a shudder, he recalled the first time he had taken advantage of the vampire´s absence from the building to jerk off in the shower. At the time, he´d been at the hotel three days. Three long days and nights in Angel´s presence with no relief, and the sexual tension had him so wound up that something had to give. And, as if the whole keeping their distance, separate bedrooms thing weren´t hard enough!
Xander swallowed hard at the memory of his second night at the hotel. He had gone out on demon patrol with them, and gotten hurt. Nothing out of the ordinary; a scratch on his bicep deep enough to bleed like hell, but not bad enough to need stitches. Angel had gone quietly nuts, growling at everyone and insisting on administering first aid himself.
Xander had secretly thrilled at the show of possessiveness, but the show was soon over. Once the bandage was in place, the vampire had disappeared to wherever it was he went to brood. Feeling discouraged, Xander had taken himself off to bed. Two hours later, restless, he got up to wander down to the kitchen. When he passed Angel´s bedroom, the door opened and the vampire stood there in jeans and a T–shirt.
“Xander. Is your arm keeping you awake?”
Xander shrugged, resisting the impulse to fling himself against the familiar body. “Nah. Just a little keyed up. Been a while since the last good fight. I‘m on the way to the kitchen.” He ventured a smile. “You know me. Nothing does it like carbs. Handful of cheezy poofs and I´ll be zonked.”
The corners of the vampire´s mouth lifted. “I remember.” He acknowledged softly.
A brief awkward silence followed while both looked down at their respective feet, then Xander shrugged nervously. “So, see you in the morning, then!”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Xander turned toward the stairs, and the vampire started to close his door, but then!
“Xander, wait.” Angel reached forward and caught Xander´s uninjured arm.
“Yeah?” Hopeful, Xander gazed into the vampire´s troubled brown eyes.
“Just!be careful.”
Xander couldn´t resist grinning at his once and hopefully future lover. “Angel, I´m only going to the kitchen. Is there something in there I need to know about?”
Angel half–smiled, then grew serious again. “I mean, all of the time. Be careful. Try not to get hurt.”
“Easier said than done. Occupational hazard. You know that better than anyone.”
“Maybe!” The vampire hesitated, then plunged in. “Maybe you shouldn´t go out with us!” Angel´s voice trailed off as Xander´s face closed down and he realized the magnitude of his mistake. “I didn´t mean!”
“I don´t care what you meant.” Xander´s voice was tight with old hurt. “Yeah, we all know I´m largely useless, but believe it or not, I occasionally come through. And if I´m going to be here, I´m going to fight just like everyone else. End of discussion.”
Angel hesitated for just a moment, then, with a groan, swept Xander into his embrace, careful of the bandaged arm, and murmured into his ear. “Listen, boy.” Xander trembled suddenly at Angelus´ unmistakable tones. “I´d tell you not to take that tone wi´ me, but I can tell it wouldn´t do me any good. You´re not a child anymore.”
“No, I´m not.” Xander muttered, still ruffled, but he clung to the vampire.
“Nay, you´re a man now. In some ways you´ve been a man as long as I´ve known you.” He eased the young man away enough to look him in the eye. “I hadn´t known you six months before I saw you save the Slayer´s life, remember? Xander, if I´m overprotective of you, it´s just because I can´t bear the thought!” The vampire closed his eyes for a moment, then stepped away, releasing Xander carefully. “I didn´t mean to make you feel inadequate. You´re a good fighter, and I´d trust you to guard my back any day.” Angel smiled. “Go on and get your snack. I´ll see you in the morning.”
Xander descended the stairs feeling considerably happier. However, the next day, Angel was as distant as though the conversation had never taken place. But Xander couldn´t get the memory of the night before out of his mind; he was so starved for the vampire´s attention that that one embrace was enough to fuel endless fantasies.
So, that night, when Angelus had departed on one of his lone fact–finding jaunts, Xander had taken himself off to the shower in search of some relief. Of course, a quick session of self–pleasuring was no substitute for an hour or so with his vampire, but it took the edge off.
He had been down in the lobby, scrubbed and dressed, when Angel entered the front door of the Hyperion a full two hours later. The vampire´s eyes had flashed immediately to Xander, his nostrils flaring and quivering. Busted. And it made him feel vulnerable, and way too needy.
Everything was just so complicated, he groused to himself. Things started off on a bad foot, thanks to Angel´s choice to just pass on explanations. They´d acquired another Scooby, and that was that.
Xander had tried to work with Angel, avoiding the questions of the Hyperion family. That had been excruciating; avoidance was just not Xander´s style, and he was sorry he hadn´t been more insistent on the truth. He couldn´t help thinking that they would have been better off to let Angelus make the call. Not much for beating around the bush—here Xander snorted at his turn of phrase—Angelus would have just summoned them all together and announced in no uncertain terms that Xander was there because they were mated and that would have been that. Of course, that would have led to a lot of questions about the whole separate bedrooms deal, but Xander had a hard time seeing that as a bad thing.
On the plus side, the things that had worried Xander the most—that he´d be unable to love Angel, and that he´d be mired in grief over Angelus´ absence—had come to nothing. In the first place, he´d found it easy to fall in love with Angel all over again, remembering the things that had prompted his attraction all those years ago. In the second place, every time he started to miss Angelus, he was THERE, in a random glance, or a turn of phrase. And Xander´s heart would turn over, and he would be lovesick all over again.
He sighed. He was just screwed. When Angel acted like Angelus—stomping the random demon, or grinning devilishly at some joke of Xander´s, or touching him, as occasionally happened––he wanted to jump him, no matter who was looking on.
On the other hand, when the demon was nowhere in sight, when Angel—sweet, sad and grave—was trying clumsily to put little Fred at ease, or bolster Wesley´s flagging self–esteem, well, Xander still wanted to jump him, wanted to wrap his legs around those sturdy hips and wind his hands into the thick soft hair and whisper reassurances and make it all better.
But he couldn´t. Because most of the time, Angel treated him like an mere acquaintance, keeping a careful distance, and wasn´t that hell on the self–esteem? The rational part of his brain could tell him that, sure, Angel needed time to adjust, to deal with a new balance between him and his demon.
But the part of Xander that was most vulnerable, the part of him that had believed himself unlovable until it had blossomed under Angelus´ care, was miserable. That part of Xander just couldn´t make sense of the fact that his love was just down the hall, but it somehow wasn´t okay for Xander to go to him, to lay his head on Angelus´ broad shoulder, that he wouldn´t be welcomed with open arms and soft kisses.
Insecurity was eating away at Xander´s foundations, gradually depriving him of hope. What if Angelus had been wrong? What if Angelus´ love combined with whatever feelings Angel had for him, Xander, just weren´t enough? Xander was slowly but surely losing hope, and it scared the shit out of him. It had been bad enough for all those years when he thought that Angel didn´t care for him, although Angelus loved him. To contemplate the idea that there wasn´t enough love between both parts of the vampire´s nature to want to keep him was unbearable.
Added on to that was the growing suspicion that the Hyperion gang saw him as dead weight, just like the Scoobies had. In spite of Angel´s assurance, when he went on patrol, he found himself relegated to duties like tonight´s “lookout,” aka keeping the helpless ones out of harm´s way. Even his attempts to get an outside job to pull his own weight had been systematically thwarted; every time he was on the verge of going for an interview for a job, some emergency cropped up at the hotel, requiring his meager skills to deal with this or that leaking window or weak floor. He was apparently useless after all.
Xander swallowed hard, and wondered if he should pack his bags.
Four stories down and a block across, Angel started guiltily as Gunn hissed his name for the third time.
“Jesus, man, will you get your head outta your ass and pay attention?”
“Sorry, Gunn.” Angel mumbled his apology and took the cell phone the other man handed him. “Hello?”
“Angel? Wesley. I´m at the Hoof and Horn.” The Englishman named a demon bar about a quarter of a mile from their location. “I´ve made enquiries, and it´s just as we feared. A number of vampires have allied with two or more Sle´gau demons. They must be stopped.” The ex–watcher´s voice was tense. “Unfortunately, although I could ascertain that they were here a short time ago, I was not able to determine their direction. You must be vigilant. I´ll call when I have further information.”
Angel disconnected the call and handed the phone back to Gunn, his brow furrowed. Wesley was right; an alliance between vampires and Sle´gau boded no good. The Sle´gau were also known as Bone–eaters, but that was not strictly accurate; they fed off human bone marrow, after knocking their victims unconscious with their warclubs.
L.A. law enforcement had gotten very good at rationalizing the presence of exsanguinated bodies lying about. But a rampage by Sle´gau demons, who tended to take their victims completely apart to satisfy their feeding habits, was another matter. If the AI gang couldn´t put a stop to it, it was likely to result in a general panic of the populace, and soon.
Angelus firmed his jaw and renewed his vigilance, vowing to keep his mind on his business and off his boy. Easier said than done. Since his return, his mind tended to be full of Xander almost to the exclusion of all else. Combine that with the weirdness of getting used to Angelus´ constant presence just beneath the surface—a deal was a deal, after all—and Angel had his hands full. Then of course, there was the matter of Cordelia and the rest of the mortals.
He must have been out of his mind to think that he could reveal the nature of his and Xander´s relationship in his own good time; he was pretty sure that it was one now of history´s worst–kept secrets.
Willow had stayed in England catching up with the coven for a week after his resoulment. This he knew from Cordelia, who had informed him with a knowing smirk that she had called the witch to welcome her home, and that they had had a nice, loooong, conversation.
Knowing as he did Cordelia´s determination, and Willow´s tendency to tell the truth under pressure, it was easy to put two and two together. Add to that his own inability—especially with Angelus´ influence—to keep his eyes and hands to himself, and Angel knew he was busted. Thankfully, no one had come right out and confronted him, but it was just a matter of time, and Angel felt the pressure to hurry up and get his head together.
Xander, of course, was as good as gold, giving him the time he needed to adjust. Angel smiled fondly to himself, then frowned. But Xander had seemed unhappy lately, as if he was running out of patience. It made Angel uneasy; surely Xander understood that a love like theirs was worth waiting for, while Angel made sure that everything was as it should be—that Xander really could love him, Angel, and that it was safe to have the demon so close to the surface and living among them.
The vampire shook his head as though to clear it. Xander was a grown man, but he was still young, and therefore impatient. That was all. And he, Angel, would make it up to him. He lost himself for a time as he imagined all the pleasurable ways he could pay his boy back, with interest, for the wait. As his mind took him into blissful fantasies, the demon, a constant restless, pushing pressure on his mind, relented, mollified by his thoughts, eagerly adding its own images to the mix.
Although Angel remembered fairly clearly all that had passed between Xander and Angelus, it was like remembering scenes from a movie. Lately, though, as he let the demon ever further in, merging with him, the scenes had begun to take on the nature of vivid sensory recall, making the souled vampire wild with hunger for his Xander. Now, as he imagined, the demon´s memory supplied new details of scent, feel, taste.
Gunn had been surveying the street with binoculars, but, as he heard his companion groan softly, he lowered the glasses and turned his eyes to the vampire. “What? Are you okay, man?”
No response, so Gunn elbowed the vampire sharply in the ribs. “Angel, what is with you?”
“Huh?” Angel started as though he had been awakened from sleep. “Oh, sorry, Gunn. Just thinking.”
“Well, think about where you are, will ya? Jeez.” Gunn, having gotten an earful from Cordy a few weeks ago, and having sharp eyes of his own, had a pretty good idea of what was distracting his boss. Still, there was work to be done, and Angel needed to be in the here and now.
“Sorry, Gunn.” The big vampire offered sheepishly. “I´m here, I´m good.”
“Well, alright, then. Hey, do you think we should!”
“Quiet.” The vampire´s tone was low, tense, eyes flashing gold as his instincts alerted him to!something.
Sinking further into depression, Xander thought that maybe, yeah, that was the answer. Pack his bags, return to Sunnydale. And what a treat that would be. He´d blown off his construction job, the first job he´d loved, quitting without notice, and how likely was it that anyone would hire him after that? Still, in Sunnydale, maybe the bond claim would ease up and stop torturing him with want for something that it was looking less and less likely that he was ever going to have. Surely to Gods distance would make things a little bit easier!
After years on the Hellmouth, a guy should´ve learned a few things. Like you were never as safe as you thought. And that it was a pretty bad idea to moon over your personal life while you were on a stakeout, out in the open in the middle of the night. ‘Cause something might sneak up on you.
Xander´s senses caught the slight movement behind him just in time to spring up and face the approaching menace. His sudden turn threw off the aim of the approaching Sle´gau and gave him time to call out the name of his protector before the demon´s warclub struck, the killing strike fouled by his own quick reaction. Still, it was a hard blow, and Xander saw stars as he tried to run. His wrist was caught and twisted painfully by one of the three vampires that accompanied the two Sle´gau. Xander cried out at the pain, but was still conscious, barely, when one of the vampires seized him and sank long fangs into his neck.
Below, Angel shifted into gameface and was off and running even before his boy´s cry—“ANGELUUUUS!”—rang into the night.
Spurred on by sudden terror, the demon leapt straight up the side of the building, scrabbling with clawed hands until he vaulted over the parapet to behold a scene that would haunt him until his final death.
Twenty feet away, Xander lay limp in the arms of a vampire whose fangs were embedded in his boy´s tender neck. Beside him, a Sle´gau ripped open the leg of Xander´s jeans with a sharp claw, seeking out the marrow–rich thigh bone.
The unworldly scream of rage that rose from Angel´s throat shattered the relative quiet of the city at night. Using all his strength and drawing on centuries´ worth of experience, Angelus made quick work of the lookouts, two vampires and one Sle´gau. The brains of the operation, the vampire and the Sle´gau that had been bending over Xander, took to their heels as soon as they saw that Angel was gaining the advantage over their underlings.
So it was that Angel rose from the remains of the lesser Sle´gau to find Xander´s limp body abandoned on the cold roof of the building.
