Part 11
Angel had come back inside while Xander had gone to the office to fetch
Giles and Wesley. Xander wasn’t sure which had Angel more off center, the
frightened glances Dawn now leveled against him, or Spikes tender nurturing
of Buffy’s little sister. Currently, instead of just glaring at Spike he
seemed to be taking in the whole dynamics of the group’s interaction,
evaluating the changes which had taken place since he had left after
graduation. They were none of them the same people they had been. Giles no
longer treated them as students but as colleagues. Willow was more
assertive, she had found her place with her witch craft and seemed more at
ease in her body and the world around her. She trusted her own judgment more
then when they were kids. Xander knew it was partly due to her testing her
limits and not yet having found them, but mostly due to Tara’s quiet faith
in her and rock solid support. He knew he himself now thought more before
speaking, and no longer needed to be reassure that he had a right to be
there. This was his pack, and although Xander still regarded Angel, as an
unpredictable predator he no longer fear that Angel would or could usurp he
place.
“Breath Wills.” Xander’s comment earned him an annoyed glance but didn’t
slow down the petite red head’s description, complete with gestures and
diagrams of her great idea. Said great idea involved summoning an elemental,
hence Tara’s worried look was now accompanied by anxious lip biting. Even
Wesley looked askew at Willow theory.
Giles had once told Xander that he blamed the computer for most of Willow‘s,
how did he put it, creative catastrophes with magic. When Xander had
mentioned that Giles had a built in prejudice towards the ‘infernal
machines’ because they clashed with both his stuffy British intellectual
image and his bad assed Ripper persona, Giles had said that what he had
meant was that Willow tended to think of spells as programs; and that that
lead to both her powerful successes and her equally spectacular crash and
burns. ‘So loved the whole demon magnet thing, thanks Wills.’ Giles had
pointed out how for most magic users spells were an extremely formal
intellectual ballet with every word and gesture choreographed and the
slightest deviation would change the results. One spell, one result no
mucking about with it. But Willow tore spells down to their basic components
and reassembled them to achive unpredictable results. Just like programmers
would cut and paste pieces of various subroutines together to perform more
complex functions Willow took smaller harmless spells and combined them and
strung them in sequence until you got a human who could stand toe to toe
with a hell god. Xander felt a rush of pride for his friend and thought he
should tell her more often how impressed he was by her, unless she was going
to be actually doing magic, then he should be far far away.
The elementals Willow were describing were usually harmless. It was at the
word usually Giles gave Xander the look and arched one brow toward Dawn.
Xander gave the look right back and arched his brow toward Willow. Briefly
them were at a stalemate. Xander wondered if any of the LA crew had picked
up on the silent battle of wills ranging in the same room with them. While
Willow reassured Wesley that as long as they picked the right place they
should not have any trouble with the gossamer like sprites which she claimed
would be and excellent source of information. The trick, and the reason they
had never used this solution before when research had failed, would be
getting far enough from the Hellmouth that the creatures would not be
influenced by its malignant power, but closed enough that they would have
information about it.
The sprites were supposedly shameless gossips and excellent sources of
information. The were also, often liars and very mischievous; and had all
the powers of the air. Xander didn’t know what that meant but he did know he
didn’t want to let Willow out of his sight when she stirred them up.
Although he couldn’t help her if they attacked magically, Giles could. He
conceded defeat and dropped his gaze. Someone had to stay with Willow and
someone had to stay with Dawn and in this case Giles was best suited back up
for Willow. He looked over at Spike and Dawn. Spike’s nod was almost
imperceptible. He would watch ‘Red’ if it was something Giles couldn’t take
care of with knowledge and magic, Spike would tear it apart with brute
force.
Xander walked over to Dawn and knelt down in front of her. “Hey, feel like
catching a flick?” Over Spike’s shoulder he saw Cordy’s shocked looked, she
seemed just about to let loose with one of her prom queen diatribes when
something, or someone caught her eye and she swallowed it. Dawn looked at
him, then she looked at Giles. She looked back at him, then turned to Spike.
She swallowed, looked back at Xander and smiled.
“Sure.” She got up and picked up her knapsack and added as she stopped by
the do, ‘Good luck with the airy things, be careful.”
Xander held and gestured with his cell phone, “Call, keep us posted.” Then
they left.
~~~~~
When they were in the car, Dawn said she couldn’t sit still for a whole
movie and suggested going to her house. She said at least that if he were
busy then one of them wouldn’t be worrying. Xander had arrange a
sub-contractor to repair the major damage Glory had done to the house, but
had spent a great deal of time there recently. There was much to do fixing
the general wear and tear that had accumulated in a house full of females
who defined that maintenance as fixing something that was broken. Once they
were at the house Dawn had wheedled him into walking her to a neighbor’s to
hang with her friends. She promised to stay inside and to call when she
wanted him to come get her.
He called the shop to check on the progress. They were going to Lanier’s
Bluff outside of town, feeling the high windy area would be conducive to the
summoning and far enough from the Hellmouth. He still couldn’t go with them
and chaffed at the restriction. They had reached an agreement shortly after
the Dragon’s visit that; one they were not taking Dawn on anymore Hellmouthy
field trips and, two whenever possible one of them would sit out the
potentially fatal activities, like parents who take separate planes to
ensure that one crash does not orphan their children.
~~~
Hours later Xander vigorously scoured his hands, at the kitchen sink, with a
stiff bristled brush. He had grouted Joyce’s bathroom. He was running out of
things to do before the appraisal. Truth be told he was putting it off,
this house had been a home to him as well as Dawn. They had all talked it
over, the six of them over dinner in the shop one night. They would sell
the house and put the proceeds in a trust for Dawn, after paying for her
education the balance would payout to her when she reached twenty-one. The
contents were to be put in storage. So Xander had stalled. He didn’t think
Dawn was ready to go though Joyce and Buffy’s things, to sort through all
those memories. Hell, he wasn’t ready.
Drying his hands he turned and leaned back against the sink. The memories
crowed around him like a thick fog and were just as impossible to hold.
Flashes of Buffy and Dawn in a mad scramble for the phone, with slayer
strength and speed no match for little sister determination and whining.
Joyce finding a way to make it seem like he was doing her a favor to take
that last piece of pie. It all seemed so real, so now, yet he knew if he
reached out to touch these memories that they would slip though his fingers
as insubstantial as mist.
He tossed the towel on the counter and moved though the house like it was a
museum. He stopped to look at personal knick-knacks and photos. He had been
in and out of this house though out the past five years. He had past most of
the items almost daily with out really seeing them. When he reached the
living room he almost expected to see a younger version of himself ensconced
between Willow and Buffy, watching the TV and making sarcastic comments
about the age of the cast of 90210.
He had taken Dawn aside after they had decided to sell the house. He wanted
to make sure that they hadn’t pressured her into the decision. After all it
had been such a happy home, except for near the end. She had tried to
explain to him how the good memories made it seem so much more hollow and
empty without Joyce and Buffy. Tonight he thought he understood.
More than ever Xander was grateful that Buffy had never returned his puppy
love. Instead what she had offered him was so much more solid and lasting.
Instead of memories of fleeting gropes in the back seats of cars or darken
corners, like he had with Cordelia, Buffy had given him loyalty and a
heart-sib’s love that had offered him both her family and her home.
Frequently, since Joyce had quietly slipped from their grasp, and Buffy had
been yanked away, Xander had wakened with the words she had spoken in that
uncanny dream from the night that the initiative had self-destructed. “I’m
way ahead of you big brother.” She had been, then and always. At sixteen she
had opened a whole new world, not just the vampires and other creepy
crawlies, but the concept that you didn’t just have to lay down and take
what life through at you, that you could fight back. Now again she had gone
ahead, into whatever the next world held. He wondered if she was still
guarding the gate, only it would be a new gate and she would be waiting for
time and circumstances to reunite them all again. Once again, she was
teaching him by example. That love doesn’t end with death and that how we
do what we do in life matters just as much, if not more, than what we do.
He was surprised when the first tears blurred his vision and relieved that
Dawn wasn’t there. He realized he had been holding a framed photo of the
three of them, the Summers women. He didn’t know how long he had been
staring at it. They were laughing and not paying attention to the camera, he
would have to ask Dawn for a copy of it.
He wished the others would call. He knew Will had her phone but didn’t want
to call for fear he would interrupt at a crucial moment. Dawn had called
twice to see if they had called him and he had told her not to call Willow
and that he would call her when they called him, so he didn’t feel he could
break his own rule, now matter how antsy he got. Xander gently placed the
photo back on the end table with a sigh. When he turned he saw Spike
standing there watching him, looking sad and perhaps caught up in his own
memories. He was surprised to see Spike, not only because no one had called
to say ‘hay stop worrying we’re alive’ but because he remembered Willow
doing the uninvite spell on Spike and did not remember him coming here since
That Night.
His surprise must have shown in his face, because Spike said “Buffy invited
me in” and then laughed at his look of utter confusion. “Not now, you daft
git. Before... when... when we came back here to get the weapons and extra
clothes for the robot.”
Anything was better then the two of them thinking about That Night, so
Xander teased. “Oh yeah. Your girlfriend.” He smiled, no more pained
nostalgia here, Spike looked ready to play. “The one you had ‘programmed’
for total obedience. Xander hooked his index fingers through the belt loops
of Spikes jeans. In a nod to the heat wave, Spike had forgone the leather
trench coat and silk shirt and was just wearing his trademark black tee
shirt, and a smirk of course. Tugging Spike forward Xander backed into the
couch and sat down. Spike chuckled and placed a knee on either side of
Xander’s thighs and straddled his body. Xander couldn’t suppress a face
splitting grin when he continued. “Poor Spike, I bet you miss that total
obedience surrounded by such.” And Spike cut him of with a kiss. Xander
started to lift Spike’s shirt; he wanted it off and longed for the skin to
skin contact.
Xander’s fingers were drinking in the touch of Spike’s slim muscled body,
when Spike clasp both wrist in a firm unyielding grip. He pushed Xander’s
hands back and pinned them against the back of the sofa. Xander looked up
hungrily into his lover’s laughing blue eyes and strained against his Spike
prison to reach up for another kiss. “Behave, Pet.” Spike added with a
smirk, “time you learned some lessons.”
Xander swallowed and nodded. He was winning his battle to suppress laughter
and he felt he had conquered the smile, “I’ve been bad.” His words had
barley been whispered but they brought back Spikes shit eating grin.
“Not bad” Spike’s words tickled against his neck as he leaned down to scrap
blunt teeth against the pulse point just behind Xander’s ear. Xander
frantically tried to buck up and bring any sort of friction against his
throbbing cock, but Spike held him like a vice and he whimpered in
frustration. “You’re never bad pet, just a bit naughty. You didn’t even ask
how things went.”
“You’re here. They’re fine. Please touch me.” ‘Why is it he retains the use
of language when we’re having sex; I must be doing something wrong. I’ve
degenerated into gasping babble and he wants to have a conversation.’ Xander
struggled to reach Spike. Spike relented with a chaste kiss, which was so
not what Xander had been trying for. “Please Spike.”
“You’re right they’re fine. Dawn called the shop as soon as we got back. All
the batteries on the phones died something to do with the elementals. Red’s
probable still on the line with her.”
“Great. Kiss me.” ‘Stop laughing you limey bastard’ Amusing Spike was always
fun, but not, at the moment, his primary goal. Xander decide it was time to
go on the offensive, and leaned forward to lick what he could reach, the
spot where Spikes collar bone dipped to attach to his rib cage.
“Don’t you know what information they?” Spike broke off with a howl as
Xander bit down hard on the spot he had been sucking. Spike pulled back but
did not release Xander. Xander looked up in to his golden eyes and shivered
when he growled, “You’ve been very wicked, Pet.”
“Are you going to punish me?” Xander barely breathed the words up into the
slowly lowering face of fangs and ridges. What Spike would have said when he
finish his low throaty chuckle was forestalled when some noise or movement
capture Xander’s attention, and he glanced at the entrance to the living
room, “ Angel?”
Part 12
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