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savoytruffle pimped our very own reremouse and i have to say - yes! Follow the link - read the fics - leave the comments! You wont' be sorry.
:)
And wow. How much do i hate ME? Lots. All my hate, however, is neatly tucked away so nobody has to
From 'Quickening' to 'Double or Nothing'. I don't remember too well every detail. I do remember the look of horror and loss and hurt on Angel's face when Darla dusted herself. And then we have Daddy!Angel who is - damn. So fun. They let DB have facial expressions! He got to be goofy! Very nice.
Of course, then they got stupid. Wes likes Fred, Fred likes Gunn, Gunn likes Fred. Wes becomes cold and stilted and a little petty when Fred and Gunn get together. Thanks, ME! Cordy and Angel rolling around in the heat of passion at the ballet? Heeee! Gunn so into the ballet he didn't want to miss the ending? Heeee! Fun, funny - all good.
Then 'Birthday' - wow! I can't believe there aren't more 'verses based off this ep. Damn cool. Love Skip. Love crazy!Angel and Wes and Gunn - partners! Of course they are.
Then - we descend into...idiocy. Suddenly Wes is losing I.Q points left and right as he discovers a horrible prophecy that he cannot refute. And he TELLS NO ONE! Come on. That is so damn lame. And he hurts Lorne? GAH!!
Then we have everyone jumping to the conclusion that Wes was in cahoots with Holtz. Again - come on! Then the huge climax - Holtz and Connor off to Quor'toth or however it's spelled and Angel pull his psycho!Dad routine.
Then FRED becomes an utter idiot by not telling Wes everything about Sahjan and then by assuming, again, that Wes gave Connor to Holtz. Wes is abandoned! Because no one will TALK TO HIM! Yes, it was stupid to not tell anyone. Granted. But past that - he might be the only one who could bring Connor back, and he did NOT hand Connor over to Holtz. But ME's idiot plotline makes everyone forget to even ASK him what he did.
And Cordy doesn't go see him in the hospital? And Lorne doesn't? Lame, lame, lame, lame.
*sigh*
Gods. ME? You suck. Why can't you come up with plots that don't require every character to become a drooling moron?
*flails*
And Gunn sold his soul for a truck. HA!
There. No more hate. *sorta*
And now 'Under the Mountain'. Previous parts are here.
Xander went to the Arboretum often enough now that he got to know some of the staff, and they always seemed to have some little treat saved from lunch for Spot and Jerome.
"You're spoiling 'em rotten," Xander said, laughing as Spot stood up tall on his hind legs, little pointy face stretched upward as one paw hooked the air. Nancy - she was usually in the Japanese Garden - laughed as well.
"My grandkids are whiney little brats - at least these guys appreciate me."
Jerome growled softly over his own sliver of tuna and Xander tugged slightly on the leash. "No growling, Jerome."
"I saw an eagle this morning down on the Shoreline Trail. And there's a bunch of new hydrangeas open - some white and pink." Nancy unhooked Spot's claws from her jeans and let him drop down to eat his own tuna.
"An eagle, really?" Xander watched as Nancy scrubbed her fingertips on a wet-wipe and then shoved it and the little treat-baggie into her pocket. "I haven't got a really good picture of one yet."
"Might still be there. It seemed like it was settling in. You boys be good, now," Nancy crooned, scratching the kittens under the chin and making little kissy noises at them. They brrr'd back - like little birds - and Nancy walked off grinning, waving once over her shoulder. "You be good too, Xander!"
"I always am! C'mon boys - eagle-stalking time." They wandered up to the trail, the late-afternoon sun slanting warm and thick through the trees. Syrup-gold and full of pollen and Xander took some pictures. The kittens were restless though, and spoiled the last shot by yanking on the leashes. Xander put his camera away in his bag and ambled on until the light started to go. Too dark for pictures of eagles unless he had better film and a tripod so he turned around and headed back, the sunlight mellowing from honey to blue-amber and the day fading to a clear, plum-purple dusk. There was a little grocery that sold import stuff about three blocks from the park gate and Xander wanted some fresh fruit and his pick of the hot case where the owner's mother and nephew made up a variety of dim sum every day. Spot and Jerome particularly liked the shrimp dumplings that came with a dollop of caviar on top. A block down from there he could catch a bus home. The kittens were looking tired and it was getting chilly - mid-September and autumn was coming fast.
"Mao Ren, ni hao!" Mrs. Feng called. She was the owner's mother, somewhere between ninety and nine-hundred years old. "Zenmeyang?"
Xander gave a small wave. "Wo hen hao, Mrs. Feng." That was: 'Hello, how are you, cat man?' Or something pretty close. And 'I'm fine.' Mrs. Feng's nephew had translated for Xander one time when he was in the store. Mrs. Feng's nephew looked like a china-doll in bondage gear and Xander had agreed to meet him at a club just the once. It had been - memorable.
Xander went to the back coolers to get a bottle of Frujo - a kind of mango soda - and a box of blackberries, then went to peruse the hot case. Mrs. Feng stood at the ready with tongs and a big, wax-paper-lined box, smiling with her lips firmly closed. She didn't have any front teeth and she wouldn't wear her bridge except to church - so Shi the nephew said. Xander didn't doubt it. Mrs. Feng had that sunken look to her mouth that he'd gotten used to in Africa. She also had the merry eyes of a wicked snake and her long braid of iron-grey and black hair slithered and hissed over her tunic top as she picked out dumplings and cakes, spring rolls and wontons.
"You alwayth get enough for two. Mao Ren, you seeing thpecial friend?"
"You never know, Mrs. Feng. Somebody might come by - I have to be prepared. Oh, and - two of the shrimp dumplings for Spot and Jerome, please."
"Mao Ren, cath not people,." Mrs. Feng disapproved of feeding cats 'human food'.
"I know, but I have to live with them, Mrs. Feng. They can be very demanding."
Mrs. Feng added four custard tarts in their own separate twist of wax paper, chopsticks, and three small cups of sauces and closed the box. "I athk my aunt, thee make you amulet so cath not bother you."
"I like them to bother me, though," Xander said. Jerome stood up and put his paws on Xander's knee, stretching, and Xander bent down and scratched him behind the ears. "They're my pals."
Mrs. Feng shuffled up to the register, shaking her head. "Mao Ren, you not right in the head," she said, but she was smiling her little tight-lipped smile and Xander paid her with a grin - took his bag and walked out, cracking the soda and taking a long drink.
"Zai jian, Mrs. Feng! Xie Xie!"
"Wan an!"
Xander took a deep breath of the cool, fresh breeze that was blowing down the street. "So, boys, home in about twenty minutes and then dinner. Sound good?" Spot and Jerome brrr'd contentedly, trotting with their tails straight up, almost glowing in the sodium-white spots of the street lights, dark paws and ears fading into the gloom. Tall apartment buildings - done in a sort of neo-Victorian style - rose up into the navy sky, spilling out squares of amber light from the windows. Too new and too expensive for Xander's taste, but they were pretty all the same.
Xander was nearly to the bus-stop when the door of the building on his right banged open and an armful of clothing - black, leather, and lace - flew through the air and landed on the sidewalk. An expensive-looking leather suitcase followed and then a toiletries bag that miraculously didn't burst open when it hit.
"Take your bloody designer wardrobe and your designer nose and your sodding designer neuroses and fuck off! Even I don't have enough bloody time in this life to deal with your sodding drama!" Xander froze, one foot off the ground and his stomach dropping to his knees.
*Jesus. Of all the people -* A slender, dark-haired woman - and for a heart-stopping moment Xander was sure it was Drusilla - came flying out of the door after her clothes, shrieking. And then Spike came out, black jeans and a black shirt open over his chest, hair sticking up in wild disarray and a split lip swelling nastily.
"You fuck! You can't push me around and -"
"I can bloody well take you out if you don't shift your arse out of here!" Spike punctuated his words with a smoldering cigarette.
"Ookay, just gonna - go the other way -" Xander whispered to himself. But Spike - heard. The woman heard and two pair of feral, golden eyes were suddenly fixed on Xander.
"Harriss," Spike said, hissing snake, and Xander shut his eye and groaned.
*Yes, please, tell your pissed-off vampire girlfriend my name. Jesus Christ.*
"So - what - you had somebody coming over? You had this all planned?" The female vamp's voice was shrill to the point of unbearable and Xander winced and stepped back - did a quick jump-skip as Jerome yowled his displeasure at being bumped.
Spike - smiled.
*Oh god, oh no, can't be good - Jesus, get me out of here.*
"Yeah, I did!. My boy here's brought us some treats and we're gonna eat and shag until the sun comes up." Spike reached out and grabbed Xander around the shoulders - hissed alarmingly at the kittens and jerked Xander toward the door. Xander couldn't have resisted if he'd tried. His heart was pounding so hard he felt sick and the look the woman turned on him was furious and predatory. "Get your shite together and get out of here, Star." Spike reached into a jeans-pocket and took out a roll of money - flung it at Star. "Don't come back." He turned a smile of pure malice on Xander. "Come on, love, up we go," he said and dragged Xander and the kittens up three steps and through the apartment building door. Spot and Jerome wailed unhappily and Xander shot one last, desperate glance behind him - at Star snatching up money and clothes with equal ferocity - and surrendered to Spike's implacable hold.
They rode up four floors in silence, Xander untangling the leashes and soothing the kittens, Spike smoking his cigarette to the filter and grinding it out in a little brass ashtray in a corner of the elevator. When the elevator stopped and the doors slid open Xander reached out for the 'Lobby' button - and found his wrist pinned to the wall by a cool, ring-heavy hand.
"Where d'you think you're going?" Spike said, and Xander realized Spike was a bit drunk.
"Oh! Umm - joke's on her, ha ha, but now I'll just go back down and catch my bus, okay? No need for me to actually - uh - go to your apartment."
"Course there is," Spike said, leaning on the wall between the buttons and Xander, letting Xander's wrist go with a slow, twisting stroke of his thumb.
"There is?"
"That daft cow might be lurking around down there, trying to cause me trouble." Spike lifted Xander's bag of food from his hand and did a 'right this way' gesture. "No, much better if you stay up here for a while."
"Spike, I really want to go home, and Spot and Jerome are tired."
Spike's eyebrows went up and he looked down at the cats who were energetically sniffing his bare feet. "Spot and Jerome? Didn't know you liked Alice Cooper."
"I like all kinds of things, Spike, but I -"
"You're coming in," Spike snapped - walked away down the hall with Xander's dinner and Spot and Jerome tugged at the leashes, meowing pitifully as the food got further and further away. The elevator doors started to close and Xander pushed them open again with a grimace.
*Great. Fine. Stay for five minutes, call a cab - we'll be fine. Damnit. I do not want to know Spike. I do not want to be in his house. I do not want to share my damn dinner with him and he'll probably eat half because he's a thieving bastard.*
Xander hitched his bag a little higher on his shoulder and stepped out of the elevator. "Hey! Don't eat the shrimp dumplings, those are for the kittens!"
The door to Spike's apartment was wide open - the room beyond was a whirlwind of broken furniture and shredded clothes. Xander couldn't suppress a snort of laughter. "You always did pick the loony ones, Spike," he said, closing the battered door with a shove.
"That include your Slayer, then?" Spike said, lighting a fresh cigarette and kicking an eviscerated cushion aside.
Xander felt a little chill come over him at that. "Maybe. I know what happened, you know."
"Do you? Good for you, Harris." Spike's mood seemed to have plummeted and he sprawled down on his couch - which had slashes across the back from a knife or maybe fingernails. He scowled at the mess around him - reached down and pulled a slab of stone out of a tangle of broken wood. It was the top of a pulverized table as far as Xander could tell, and Spike slithered to the floor, settling cross-logged and unloading Xander's bag, cigarette dangling from between his lips. "Beers in the 'fridge, there," he said, flipping his hand in the general direction.
"That's my dinner," Xander said. "And I don't drink." He stood there for a moment while Spike poked through the box with the chopsticks and then picked out a wonton, dipping it in what looked like sweet and sour sauce. He took a deep drag on his cigarette and then crushed it out on the edge of a plate that was sticking out from under the couch.
"Why don't you drink?" Spike asked, and Xander sighed and went over to him - sat down cross-legged and picked up the other pair of chopsticks. Spot and Jerome mewed anxiously, pushing their heads against Xander's arm.
"Hang on, guys." Xander picked a magazine out of the mess - Car and Driver - and lay it face-down on the floor. He lifted the shrimp dumplings out of the box and put them at opposite ends of the magazine. Spot and Jerome pounced. "I don't drink 'cause I was a drunk for a while in Africa and I kinda...grew out of it." Xander got another dumpling and found the plum sauce and started eating. Spike finished the wonton and picked out a mooli cake. "And yeah, Buffy told us everything that happened. Everything from the time she - came back."
"Bully for her, then," Spike said. He shoved the rest of the cake in his mouth and dropped the chop-sticks - got up and crossed to a tall, maple cabinet that had a huge gouge down the side. "Filthy bitch," he muttered.
"Hey! Buffy had every right -"
"Talkin' about Star, Harris. Have to get the cleaners in here or maybe...fuck." Spike wrenched open the cabinet doors and took out a bottle of whiskey - pulled out the cork and took a long drink, wincing as the alcohol stung his hurt lip. "Fuck, maybe I'll just move. Don't wanna deal with this mess. Never let a girl think she's got a toe-hold - she'll take a bloody fistful." Spike took another drink and Xander just kept eating, watching him. Spike seemed - tired. "Oh, yeah - forgot. You don't do birds anymore. How'd that happen, then?"
"The usual way, I guess." Xander ate another mouthful - pushed Spot away from Jerome's last bite. "Would you really just - move?"
"Eh? Oh, I dunno." Spike came back over - sprawled down on the couch, one arm and one leg dangling over the edge. His streaky hair looked soft - almost downy - and his shirt was half off his shoulder and Xander couldn't help but stare at the scars that criss-crossed his chest. "Bloody Star. Just wanted a bit of fun, is all. Then she has to get all - possessive."
"Oh, 'cause you're not a bit possessive," Xander mumbled, and Spike snorted - took another drink.
"I am if I've got something worth keeping. Star just wanted a sugar-daddy and I'm not feelin' too sweet right now. And what in bloody hell are you starin' at?"
Xander blinked - swallowed his mouthful and shook his head. "Sorry. It's just...your chest..." He gestured with the chopsticks and Spike scowled - pulled his shirt up and closed. "What - happened?"
"None of your bloody business." Spike drained the bottle - pushed himself abruptly upright and flung the bottle off to one side. "Lock the door on your way out, Harris. Phone's around here somewhere - call a cab. Star can be - inventive."
"Where are you going?" Xander asked, and Spike gave him a strangely blank look.
"I'm going to bed." Then he turned on his heel and walked away into the depths of the apartment. A moment later Xander heard a door thump closed.
"Wow. He really just - went to bed." Spot and Jerome had crawled up onto the couch and were investigating under the remaining cushions. "I think it's time to go home, guys." Xander tidied the food away and back into its bag - dug his cell phone out and then looked around for something with an address on it. *Does Spike get mail? Do vampires get mail? Fuck...* He saw what was probably the remains of a desk and poked through the papers that were mixed in with the debris. He found the card for Angel Investigations before he found a piece of junk mail.
He didn't call Angel for three days. He spent a lot of that time working - he was carving a new mantel to match existing fragments - and lost himself in the hypnotic repetition of chisel and plane, gouge and sandpaper. And a cool front moved in, with rain and wind, so he didn't take the boys out for walks in the evening. They were content to play on the 'tree' he'd built them though, and he spoiled them with pepperoni from his pizza and a bite of chocolate pudding cake each.
But the whole time he was thinking about Angel and the last days of Sunnydale - what had happened. Things he hadn't thought about in a long time - in years. It all seemed so...remote. Unbelievable. Magical amulets and a handful of little girls made into superheroes in the blink of an eye. A strange life gone off the rails into a country that had seemed too dark and too deadly to ever escape from.
But they had escaped, and Xander finally sat down on the third night and dialed the number - waited with a twisty little nervous feeling down in his stomach for someone to pick up.
"Angel Investigations, we help the helpless." A young-sounding voice with a soft Southern drawl and Xander didn't know what to say for a moment. He'd been so ready for Angel to answer, or Cordelia - even Faith, since she'd gone to L.A. with Angel after Sunnydale had died. He didn't know this person.
"Uh - hello? Hello. I - uh - need to talk to Angel."
"Well, he's kinda busy right now, can I help you?"
"Umm...I don't think so. I mean - maybe you could? But I kind of... Damn. Um, could you just - could you say it's Xander Harris on the phone and - see what he says?"
"Sure, I can do that. Hang on." There was a soft clunk as the girl put the phone down and Xander leaned back on his couch and stared at the ceiling. Waiting, his leg bouncing. There was the sound of scrabbling claws and Xander glanced over as Spot shot out of the kitchen toward the bedroom, Jerome hot on his heels. There were voices on the phone - indistinct babble that got closer and closer and then -
"Harris? Xander Harris from Sunnydale?"
"Yeah. Only, you know - not Sunnydale anymore. Seattle now. Uh - hi."
"Hi." A beat, and a question from someone on the other end. "I don't know yet. Xander? Is there - is something wrong? I mean - why are you calling? Me?"
"Nothing's wrong! Nothing's wrong, everything's fine. Umm - this is about - this is about Spike." There was a long moment of silence and Xander very clearly heard someone - was it Faith? - call out to Angel.
"I have to - I'll be there in a minute, okay?" The background noises eased off - there was a thumping noise and Xander was pretty sure Angel was in an office now - someplace more private. "What about Spike? Is he - what's he doing?"
"Uh. I don't know. He's not - doing anything, I guess. Listen, Angel, I ran into him a couple of times up here - I guess he's living up here now. And he's just - different, than before."
"Yeah. Look, Xander I don't know if -"
"Angel, I just wanna know - if he's dangerous. I was - at his place and I found your card and -"
"Wait. You were at his place? What the hell would you go to his place for?" Angel sounded pissed off - sounded worried and Xander felt his heartbeat bump up a little faster. "He still has my card?"
"What? Uh - yeah. Look, just tell me if I should be worried, okay? Is William the Bloody gonna come creeping around my job or anything?" There was more silence and then finally a long sigh. Xander's hand was sweating around the phone.
"I don't think so. Spike really is different now, Xander. Spike - has a soul."
savoytruffle pimped our very own reremouse and i have to say - yes! Follow the link - read the fics - leave the comments! You wont' be sorry. :)
And wow. How much do i hate ME? Lots. All my hate, however, is neatly tucked away so nobody has to
From 'Quickening' to 'Double or Nothing'. I don't remember too well every detail. I do remember the look of horror and loss and hurt on Angel's face when Darla dusted herself. And then we have Daddy!Angel who is - damn. So fun. They let DB have facial expressions! He got to be goofy! Very nice.
Of course, then they got stupid. Wes likes Fred, Fred likes Gunn, Gunn likes Fred. Wes becomes cold and stilted and a little petty when Fred and Gunn get together. Thanks, ME! Cordy and Angel rolling around in the heat of passion at the ballet? Heeee! Gunn so into the ballet he didn't want to miss the ending? Heeee! Fun, funny - all good.
Then 'Birthday' - wow! I can't believe there aren't more 'verses based off this ep. Damn cool. Love Skip. Love crazy!Angel and Wes and Gunn - partners! Of course they are.
Then - we descend into...idiocy. Suddenly Wes is losing I.Q points left and right as he discovers a horrible prophecy that he cannot refute. And he TELLS NO ONE! Come on. That is so damn lame. And he hurts Lorne? GAH!!
Then we have everyone jumping to the conclusion that Wes was in cahoots with Holtz. Again - come on! Then the huge climax - Holtz and Connor off to Quor'toth or however it's spelled and Angel pull his psycho!Dad routine.
Then FRED becomes an utter idiot by not telling Wes everything about Sahjan and then by assuming, again, that Wes gave Connor to Holtz. Wes is abandoned! Because no one will TALK TO HIM! Yes, it was stupid to not tell anyone. Granted. But past that - he might be the only one who could bring Connor back, and he did NOT hand Connor over to Holtz. But ME's idiot plotline makes everyone forget to even ASK him what he did.
And Cordy doesn't go see him in the hospital? And Lorne doesn't? Lame, lame, lame, lame.
*sigh*
Gods. ME? You suck. Why can't you come up with plots that don't require every character to become a drooling moron?
*flails*
And Gunn sold his soul for a truck. HA!
There. No more hate. *sorta*
And now 'Under the Mountain'. Previous parts are here.
Xander went to the Arboretum often enough now that he got to know some of the staff, and they always seemed to have some little treat saved from lunch for Spot and Jerome.
"You're spoiling 'em rotten," Xander said, laughing as Spot stood up tall on his hind legs, little pointy face stretched upward as one paw hooked the air. Nancy - she was usually in the Japanese Garden - laughed as well.
"My grandkids are whiney little brats - at least these guys appreciate me."
Jerome growled softly over his own sliver of tuna and Xander tugged slightly on the leash. "No growling, Jerome."
"I saw an eagle this morning down on the Shoreline Trail. And there's a bunch of new hydrangeas open - some white and pink." Nancy unhooked Spot's claws from her jeans and let him drop down to eat his own tuna.
"An eagle, really?" Xander watched as Nancy scrubbed her fingertips on a wet-wipe and then shoved it and the little treat-baggie into her pocket. "I haven't got a really good picture of one yet."
"Might still be there. It seemed like it was settling in. You boys be good, now," Nancy crooned, scratching the kittens under the chin and making little kissy noises at them. They brrr'd back - like little birds - and Nancy walked off grinning, waving once over her shoulder. "You be good too, Xander!"
"I always am! C'mon boys - eagle-stalking time." They wandered up to the trail, the late-afternoon sun slanting warm and thick through the trees. Syrup-gold and full of pollen and Xander took some pictures. The kittens were restless though, and spoiled the last shot by yanking on the leashes. Xander put his camera away in his bag and ambled on until the light started to go. Too dark for pictures of eagles unless he had better film and a tripod so he turned around and headed back, the sunlight mellowing from honey to blue-amber and the day fading to a clear, plum-purple dusk. There was a little grocery that sold import stuff about three blocks from the park gate and Xander wanted some fresh fruit and his pick of the hot case where the owner's mother and nephew made up a variety of dim sum every day. Spot and Jerome particularly liked the shrimp dumplings that came with a dollop of caviar on top. A block down from there he could catch a bus home. The kittens were looking tired and it was getting chilly - mid-September and autumn was coming fast.
"Mao Ren, ni hao!" Mrs. Feng called. She was the owner's mother, somewhere between ninety and nine-hundred years old. "Zenmeyang?"
Xander gave a small wave. "Wo hen hao, Mrs. Feng." That was: 'Hello, how are you, cat man?' Or something pretty close. And 'I'm fine.' Mrs. Feng's nephew had translated for Xander one time when he was in the store. Mrs. Feng's nephew looked like a china-doll in bondage gear and Xander had agreed to meet him at a club just the once. It had been - memorable.
Xander went to the back coolers to get a bottle of Frujo - a kind of mango soda - and a box of blackberries, then went to peruse the hot case. Mrs. Feng stood at the ready with tongs and a big, wax-paper-lined box, smiling with her lips firmly closed. She didn't have any front teeth and she wouldn't wear her bridge except to church - so Shi the nephew said. Xander didn't doubt it. Mrs. Feng had that sunken look to her mouth that he'd gotten used to in Africa. She also had the merry eyes of a wicked snake and her long braid of iron-grey and black hair slithered and hissed over her tunic top as she picked out dumplings and cakes, spring rolls and wontons.
"You alwayth get enough for two. Mao Ren, you seeing thpecial friend?"
"You never know, Mrs. Feng. Somebody might come by - I have to be prepared. Oh, and - two of the shrimp dumplings for Spot and Jerome, please."
"Mao Ren, cath not people,." Mrs. Feng disapproved of feeding cats 'human food'.
"I know, but I have to live with them, Mrs. Feng. They can be very demanding."
Mrs. Feng added four custard tarts in their own separate twist of wax paper, chopsticks, and three small cups of sauces and closed the box. "I athk my aunt, thee make you amulet so cath not bother you."
"I like them to bother me, though," Xander said. Jerome stood up and put his paws on Xander's knee, stretching, and Xander bent down and scratched him behind the ears. "They're my pals."
Mrs. Feng shuffled up to the register, shaking her head. "Mao Ren, you not right in the head," she said, but she was smiling her little tight-lipped smile and Xander paid her with a grin - took his bag and walked out, cracking the soda and taking a long drink.
"Zai jian, Mrs. Feng! Xie Xie!"
"Wan an!"
Xander took a deep breath of the cool, fresh breeze that was blowing down the street. "So, boys, home in about twenty minutes and then dinner. Sound good?" Spot and Jerome brrr'd contentedly, trotting with their tails straight up, almost glowing in the sodium-white spots of the street lights, dark paws and ears fading into the gloom. Tall apartment buildings - done in a sort of neo-Victorian style - rose up into the navy sky, spilling out squares of amber light from the windows. Too new and too expensive for Xander's taste, but they were pretty all the same.
Xander was nearly to the bus-stop when the door of the building on his right banged open and an armful of clothing - black, leather, and lace - flew through the air and landed on the sidewalk. An expensive-looking leather suitcase followed and then a toiletries bag that miraculously didn't burst open when it hit.
"Take your bloody designer wardrobe and your designer nose and your sodding designer neuroses and fuck off! Even I don't have enough bloody time in this life to deal with your sodding drama!" Xander froze, one foot off the ground and his stomach dropping to his knees.
*Jesus. Of all the people -* A slender, dark-haired woman - and for a heart-stopping moment Xander was sure it was Drusilla - came flying out of the door after her clothes, shrieking. And then Spike came out, black jeans and a black shirt open over his chest, hair sticking up in wild disarray and a split lip swelling nastily.
"You fuck! You can't push me around and -"
"I can bloody well take you out if you don't shift your arse out of here!" Spike punctuated his words with a smoldering cigarette.
"Ookay, just gonna - go the other way -" Xander whispered to himself. But Spike - heard. The woman heard and two pair of feral, golden eyes were suddenly fixed on Xander.
"Harriss," Spike said, hissing snake, and Xander shut his eye and groaned.
*Yes, please, tell your pissed-off vampire girlfriend my name. Jesus Christ.*
"So - what - you had somebody coming over? You had this all planned?" The female vamp's voice was shrill to the point of unbearable and Xander winced and stepped back - did a quick jump-skip as Jerome yowled his displeasure at being bumped.
Spike - smiled.
*Oh god, oh no, can't be good - Jesus, get me out of here.*
"Yeah, I did!. My boy here's brought us some treats and we're gonna eat and shag until the sun comes up." Spike reached out and grabbed Xander around the shoulders - hissed alarmingly at the kittens and jerked Xander toward the door. Xander couldn't have resisted if he'd tried. His heart was pounding so hard he felt sick and the look the woman turned on him was furious and predatory. "Get your shite together and get out of here, Star." Spike reached into a jeans-pocket and took out a roll of money - flung it at Star. "Don't come back." He turned a smile of pure malice on Xander. "Come on, love, up we go," he said and dragged Xander and the kittens up three steps and through the apartment building door. Spot and Jerome wailed unhappily and Xander shot one last, desperate glance behind him - at Star snatching up money and clothes with equal ferocity - and surrendered to Spike's implacable hold.
They rode up four floors in silence, Xander untangling the leashes and soothing the kittens, Spike smoking his cigarette to the filter and grinding it out in a little brass ashtray in a corner of the elevator. When the elevator stopped and the doors slid open Xander reached out for the 'Lobby' button - and found his wrist pinned to the wall by a cool, ring-heavy hand.
"Where d'you think you're going?" Spike said, and Xander realized Spike was a bit drunk.
"Oh! Umm - joke's on her, ha ha, but now I'll just go back down and catch my bus, okay? No need for me to actually - uh - go to your apartment."
"Course there is," Spike said, leaning on the wall between the buttons and Xander, letting Xander's wrist go with a slow, twisting stroke of his thumb.
"There is?"
"That daft cow might be lurking around down there, trying to cause me trouble." Spike lifted Xander's bag of food from his hand and did a 'right this way' gesture. "No, much better if you stay up here for a while."
"Spike, I really want to go home, and Spot and Jerome are tired."
Spike's eyebrows went up and he looked down at the cats who were energetically sniffing his bare feet. "Spot and Jerome? Didn't know you liked Alice Cooper."
"I like all kinds of things, Spike, but I -"
"You're coming in," Spike snapped - walked away down the hall with Xander's dinner and Spot and Jerome tugged at the leashes, meowing pitifully as the food got further and further away. The elevator doors started to close and Xander pushed them open again with a grimace.
*Great. Fine. Stay for five minutes, call a cab - we'll be fine. Damnit. I do not want to know Spike. I do not want to be in his house. I do not want to share my damn dinner with him and he'll probably eat half because he's a thieving bastard.*
Xander hitched his bag a little higher on his shoulder and stepped out of the elevator. "Hey! Don't eat the shrimp dumplings, those are for the kittens!"
The door to Spike's apartment was wide open - the room beyond was a whirlwind of broken furniture and shredded clothes. Xander couldn't suppress a snort of laughter. "You always did pick the loony ones, Spike," he said, closing the battered door with a shove.
"That include your Slayer, then?" Spike said, lighting a fresh cigarette and kicking an eviscerated cushion aside.
Xander felt a little chill come over him at that. "Maybe. I know what happened, you know."
"Do you? Good for you, Harris." Spike's mood seemed to have plummeted and he sprawled down on his couch - which had slashes across the back from a knife or maybe fingernails. He scowled at the mess around him - reached down and pulled a slab of stone out of a tangle of broken wood. It was the top of a pulverized table as far as Xander could tell, and Spike slithered to the floor, settling cross-logged and unloading Xander's bag, cigarette dangling from between his lips. "Beers in the 'fridge, there," he said, flipping his hand in the general direction.
"That's my dinner," Xander said. "And I don't drink." He stood there for a moment while Spike poked through the box with the chopsticks and then picked out a wonton, dipping it in what looked like sweet and sour sauce. He took a deep drag on his cigarette and then crushed it out on the edge of a plate that was sticking out from under the couch.
"Why don't you drink?" Spike asked, and Xander sighed and went over to him - sat down cross-legged and picked up the other pair of chopsticks. Spot and Jerome mewed anxiously, pushing their heads against Xander's arm.
"Hang on, guys." Xander picked a magazine out of the mess - Car and Driver - and lay it face-down on the floor. He lifted the shrimp dumplings out of the box and put them at opposite ends of the magazine. Spot and Jerome pounced. "I don't drink 'cause I was a drunk for a while in Africa and I kinda...grew out of it." Xander got another dumpling and found the plum sauce and started eating. Spike finished the wonton and picked out a mooli cake. "And yeah, Buffy told us everything that happened. Everything from the time she - came back."
"Bully for her, then," Spike said. He shoved the rest of the cake in his mouth and dropped the chop-sticks - got up and crossed to a tall, maple cabinet that had a huge gouge down the side. "Filthy bitch," he muttered.
"Hey! Buffy had every right -"
"Talkin' about Star, Harris. Have to get the cleaners in here or maybe...fuck." Spike wrenched open the cabinet doors and took out a bottle of whiskey - pulled out the cork and took a long drink, wincing as the alcohol stung his hurt lip. "Fuck, maybe I'll just move. Don't wanna deal with this mess. Never let a girl think she's got a toe-hold - she'll take a bloody fistful." Spike took another drink and Xander just kept eating, watching him. Spike seemed - tired. "Oh, yeah - forgot. You don't do birds anymore. How'd that happen, then?"
"The usual way, I guess." Xander ate another mouthful - pushed Spot away from Jerome's last bite. "Would you really just - move?"
"Eh? Oh, I dunno." Spike came back over - sprawled down on the couch, one arm and one leg dangling over the edge. His streaky hair looked soft - almost downy - and his shirt was half off his shoulder and Xander couldn't help but stare at the scars that criss-crossed his chest. "Bloody Star. Just wanted a bit of fun, is all. Then she has to get all - possessive."
"Oh, 'cause you're not a bit possessive," Xander mumbled, and Spike snorted - took another drink.
"I am if I've got something worth keeping. Star just wanted a sugar-daddy and I'm not feelin' too sweet right now. And what in bloody hell are you starin' at?"
Xander blinked - swallowed his mouthful and shook his head. "Sorry. It's just...your chest..." He gestured with the chopsticks and Spike scowled - pulled his shirt up and closed. "What - happened?"
"None of your bloody business." Spike drained the bottle - pushed himself abruptly upright and flung the bottle off to one side. "Lock the door on your way out, Harris. Phone's around here somewhere - call a cab. Star can be - inventive."
"Where are you going?" Xander asked, and Spike gave him a strangely blank look.
"I'm going to bed." Then he turned on his heel and walked away into the depths of the apartment. A moment later Xander heard a door thump closed.
"Wow. He really just - went to bed." Spot and Jerome had crawled up onto the couch and were investigating under the remaining cushions. "I think it's time to go home, guys." Xander tidied the food away and back into its bag - dug his cell phone out and then looked around for something with an address on it. *Does Spike get mail? Do vampires get mail? Fuck...* He saw what was probably the remains of a desk and poked through the papers that were mixed in with the debris. He found the card for Angel Investigations before he found a piece of junk mail.
He didn't call Angel for three days. He spent a lot of that time working - he was carving a new mantel to match existing fragments - and lost himself in the hypnotic repetition of chisel and plane, gouge and sandpaper. And a cool front moved in, with rain and wind, so he didn't take the boys out for walks in the evening. They were content to play on the 'tree' he'd built them though, and he spoiled them with pepperoni from his pizza and a bite of chocolate pudding cake each.
But the whole time he was thinking about Angel and the last days of Sunnydale - what had happened. Things he hadn't thought about in a long time - in years. It all seemed so...remote. Unbelievable. Magical amulets and a handful of little girls made into superheroes in the blink of an eye. A strange life gone off the rails into a country that had seemed too dark and too deadly to ever escape from.
But they had escaped, and Xander finally sat down on the third night and dialed the number - waited with a twisty little nervous feeling down in his stomach for someone to pick up.
"Angel Investigations, we help the helpless." A young-sounding voice with a soft Southern drawl and Xander didn't know what to say for a moment. He'd been so ready for Angel to answer, or Cordelia - even Faith, since she'd gone to L.A. with Angel after Sunnydale had died. He didn't know this person.
"Uh - hello? Hello. I - uh - need to talk to Angel."
"Well, he's kinda busy right now, can I help you?"
"Umm...I don't think so. I mean - maybe you could? But I kind of... Damn. Um, could you just - could you say it's Xander Harris on the phone and - see what he says?"
"Sure, I can do that. Hang on." There was a soft clunk as the girl put the phone down and Xander leaned back on his couch and stared at the ceiling. Waiting, his leg bouncing. There was the sound of scrabbling claws and Xander glanced over as Spot shot out of the kitchen toward the bedroom, Jerome hot on his heels. There were voices on the phone - indistinct babble that got closer and closer and then -
"Harris? Xander Harris from Sunnydale?"
"Yeah. Only, you know - not Sunnydale anymore. Seattle now. Uh - hi."
"Hi." A beat, and a question from someone on the other end. "I don't know yet. Xander? Is there - is something wrong? I mean - why are you calling? Me?"
"Nothing's wrong! Nothing's wrong, everything's fine. Umm - this is about - this is about Spike." There was a long moment of silence and Xander very clearly heard someone - was it Faith? - call out to Angel.
"I have to - I'll be there in a minute, okay?" The background noises eased off - there was a thumping noise and Xander was pretty sure Angel was in an office now - someplace more private. "What about Spike? Is he - what's he doing?"
"Uh. I don't know. He's not - doing anything, I guess. Listen, Angel, I ran into him a couple of times up here - I guess he's living up here now. And he's just - different, than before."
"Yeah. Look, Xander I don't know if -"
"Angel, I just wanna know - if he's dangerous. I was - at his place and I found your card and -"
"Wait. You were at his place? What the hell would you go to his place for?" Angel sounded pissed off - sounded worried and Xander felt his heartbeat bump up a little faster. "He still has my card?"
"What? Uh - yeah. Look, just tell me if I should be worried, okay? Is William the Bloody gonna come creeping around my job or anything?" There was more silence and then finally a long sigh. Xander's hand was sweating around the phone.
"I don't think so. Spike really is different now, Xander. Spike - has a soul."