Maturity
The Bronze was teeming with bodies writhing to the pulsing music that blared
from the large speakers set up on stage. Fast and hard, the alternative song
pumped up the dancers on the dance floor. Young men and women moved together in
an orgy of limbs.
"Killians," Xander ordered, not sparing a second glance at the bartender
behind the bar at the back of the club. The dark-haired man pulled his
sunglasses down to gauge the lighting. He was relieved to find that it was dark
enough that he could see without too much irritation. Having eyes with pupils
that didn't adjust to brightness was a real pain at times.
Xander hooked his sunglasses onto the front of his t-shirt and grabbed the
beer the bartender had placed beside him. Xander tossed a few crumpled bills on
the bar's dark surface to pay for his drink, then took a long pull. He was no
longer carded, despite being under the legal drinking age, which was a great
plus in his messed-up life.
Maturity. Originally defined as physical growth by psychologists, the
unenlightened used the term to represent mental growth, or "acting ones age."
People used the word as a derogatory expression when others were goofing off.
Others used it as a compliment towards a younger person.
Back in high school, Xander had been considered a runner-up in the class
clown category. He always had a joke or was pulling a prank. Cordelia had
reveled in loudly announcing that his maturity level was equal to that of his
shoe size.
Yesterday, Cordelia had wondered where that immature doof disappeared to.
Xander knew he had matured mentally beyond his twenty years. Living on his
own for over a year had matured him. Working in a strip club surrounded by
beautiful people every night -- and forcing himself not to try and score -- had
matured him. Working as a stripper and not taking up the offers from the
customers... had been pretty stupid, but a sign of maturity.
Finally, Xander's crazy accident that had turned him into a superhero, of
sorts, had been a definitive turn in his maturity level. He had to relearn how
to live with his altered sight. He had to research into what had happened to him
and if there was a possible cure. He had to train himself not to electrocute
people when he touched them. He had to decide how to use his newfound abilities
without going over that shaky line between good and bad. He didn't want to
become another Cain.
Roaming around the country with Spike, though, had led to some very immature
activities. While the blond vampire was exceptionally intelligent, a good
conversationalist when he wanted to be, and had a wonderfully macabre sense of
humor, he was far from the most mature individual around. Putting glue in
Angel's hairgel had been a tame idea compared to what Xander had said no to.
Xander nursed his beer and let his gaze slowly travel around the Bronze. The
ride he'd taken on the Hawk had cleared his mind somewhat, but the electricity
from the storm was still buzzing under his skin and making him tense.
And when he was tense, he hunted.
In Xander's eyes, the Bronze was a myriad of black and white. An amused smile
pulled at his lips as several girls passed him by. Their rampaging hormones had
caused their breasts to look literally like high-beam headlights. The men-folk
weren't any less bizarre. Three-fourths of them looked as though they had
glowsticks attached to their crotches.
Xander ignored the bright splotches caused by horniness and instead
concentrated on the rest of the patrons' bodies. A normal human would be
comprised of tiny, moving sequinish blue lights. A vampire would have strands of
those same lights in their head and nowhere else. Other types of demons would
have a higher density to their molecular structure, which made them appear a
more solid white to Xander.
The brunette spotted his first quarry -- a vampire -- standing near the
hallway to the restrooms. The tall, bulky male sported a black rod that was
trying desperately to reach the white light between the girl's legs.
Xander checked his pockets for a stake. When he didn't find one, he mentally
shrugged and proceeded towards the vampire anyway. Some wooden object would turn
up when he needed it.
Xander purposely rubbed himself against the large vampire as he walked past.
He paused and looked up at the tall male with a slight lift to one corner of his
mouth. The vampire stared down at him with annoyance.
"Oh, excuse me," Xander purred, a talent that he'd learned from Spike. By
slightly lowering the voice and speaking slower, a spell of seduction was woven
around an intended victim with a few simple words. Xander's success rate in
attracting his prey was phenomenal when he spoke in this manner.
"No problem," the vampire grunted.
Xander winked, then sauntered into the hallway that led to the restrooms.
Halfway down, he glanced over his shoulder and saw the vampire watching him. The
brunette sent the other man a come-hither smile, then continued on out the back
door of the Bronze.
The back alley was trash-strewn, smelly, but people-free. He saw a few piles
of ashes scattered about and smirked. Buffy had been at work recently, he
thought as he leaned against the wall and effected a casual pose. Xander knew he
couldn't stay at the Bronze long if he didn't want to run into his friends.
The door to the alley opened and, on cue, the vampire stepped outside. Xander
tilted the beer bottle to his lips and took a long drink. He could feel the
other male's eyes focused on his neck as his Adam's apple bobbed with each
swallow. Vampires were so predictable.
Xander lowered the bottle and looked over at the vampire. "Hey."
"Hey," the vampire returned. He walked over to Xander and right into the
brunette's personal space. "You wanted something?"
Xander raised his eerily dark eyes and grinned evilly. "Yeah. You, dust."
With that, Xander mentally reached inside the vampire's brain and literally
shut off the lights.
The vampire fell bonelessly to the ground, never to move again. The demon was
completely destroyed, it's entire life-force snuffed out by Xander.
Xander broke off a slat from a crate with a well-placed kick, then staked the
vampire with the shard of wood. The body became just another pile of dust in the
alley.
The brunette tucked the make-shift stake into his pocket, took a pull on his
beer, and headed back into the Bronze.
The hunt continued.
End
