Making A Quick Decision
Tuesday, August 29, 2000
Xander jabbed the buttons on the pay phone as he dialed, little sparks of
electricity dancing between his finger and the number pad. The other end of the
line rang once, and he slammed down the receiver into the cradle. Taking a step
back, he grabbed the sides of the phone carroll, dropped his chin to his chest,
and took several deep, calming breaths. It wouldn't do him any good to short
circuit the phone, or to subject Giles to his bad mood.
"Stupid... idiotic... braindead... vampire." On his lips, the last
descriptive sounded more derogatory than the first three.
Xander pushed away from the phone carroll and dropped into a crouch, resting
his wrists on his knees. His anger at Spike for being gone so long was
warranted. Spike knew Xander had wanted to see his old friends around dinner
time, and maybe score a free meal. After what had happened at Willy's the night
before, Xander had most definitely wanted to see them while the sun was still
shining and before Buffy had caught wind of what had occurred. But Spike had
blown that plan out of the water by absconding with the bike until almost
sunset. Yes, Xander could've walked, but the Hawk was his baby, damn it, and he
shouldn't have to. Plus, he wanted to have a fast out, if need be.
The look on Spike's face, though, was what had made Xander the most angry --
angry at himself. Spike's expression of stunned hurt when Xander had yelled at
him had slashed Xander to the bone, before the vampire had gotten mad in return.
The doof was in the wrong, so why shouldn't Xander yell at him? And he didn't
even like the jerk, so why should he feel bad if he hurt Spike's feelings?
Xander growled in a passably vampiric manner, causing the actual vampire
trying to sneak up on him to scurry away. This was not how Xander had
envisioned his homecoming. He wanted to be smothered by his friends in welcoming
hugs and kisses, and by the excitement to see him. He wanted the girls (and the
unflappable Oz) to fawn over his tanned physique that had other men and women
giving him hundreds of dollars to take off his clothing. He wanted to hear that
he was missed, that they remembered who he was and wanted him to come home
permanently.
What he did not want was to lose his temper at Willy the Snitch's bar;
announce to the world that he could kick some major demon tail; act like the
jealous boyfriend to his Butlerish vampire; and feel guilty that he'd snapped at
Spike. Somehow, Xander was going to blame Angel for the mess that had befallen
him. It hadn't been until they'd visited Deadboy that things had started going
to pot.
Xander rubbed a hand over his jaw, stood, and picked up the receiver again.
Maybe the shitiness of the past few days was a sign that he shouldn't have
returned to Sunnydale yet. He could "see" with relative ease, but he had to wear
his sunglasses almost all the time. He had control over his wild powers, but he
couldn't predict when storms would develop. He could protect himself from the
dangers of the night, but he was as weak as a newborn kitten immediately
following a storm. He liked being alone, but was upset at himself for possibly
sending Spike away.
Making a quick decision, Xander re-deposited his money and dialed. "Hey,
Giles. It's Xander... Yeah, I'm going to have to postpone that presentation of
the Life and Times of Xander Harris..."
End
