Reunification
^^^^^^^^^
Part four
^^^^^^^^^
There was nothing like a pre-catalytic converter engine, Gunn thought as he
accelerated to pass a little import on the open highway. Finn was riding
shotgun and Miller was behind Gunn in the convertible. The top was up to
keep down the wind. They had made good time once they were out of city
traffic. Away from all the light and noise, the sky spread out with stars
scattered like sequins on a fine woman’s dress. It was easy, spending so
much time surrounded by teeming masses of people and buildings, to forget
that there were things bigger and broader that LA.
Alonna would have loved this. Instead, he was sharing all this beauty with a
couple of white ex-military guys he hardly knew. Cordy seemed to take it in
stride that these guys had gone from being members of an invasion force they
had been sent to stop to Angel’s roomies in the space of a couple months.
Not that they were actually sharing a room, or a bed, with anyone but each
other. Angel had moved them into the hotel and seemed to be watching over
the Finn guy’s addiction. You wouldn’t know they were queer from the way
they acted, no flirting or effeminate behavior. The fact that Miller
shadowed Finn unless Riley was with Angel could have been chalked up to
being his bodyguard or warden. No, the only reason Gunn had been clued into
the fact they were together was when he helped them move in the large bed to
replace the two smaller ones their suite had contained. One room, one bed;
they got up together in the morning and went to bed together at night. They
were pretty damn near inseparable. Judging by the limited history Finn had
shared with Gunn, he would have been dead if Miller hadn’t shown up at his
parent’s farm and dragged him to LA.
Riley spent sometime alone with Angel almost everyday. Gunn hoped that it
had to do with breaking the young man’s cravings to be fed from and wasn’t
an indication of a change in Angel’s diet. After finding Miller pacing
outside Angel’s office, Gunn had persuaded him to come back to the
neighborhood with him. The ex-Marine had been met with the same hostility
all of Gunn’s co-workers were until he’d proven himself. Now, his friends
trusted Miller and they were adopting his strategy tips and letting him
instruct them in hand to hand combat.
The two of them had taken Riley with them last time, but Finn was quiet and
hung back when presented with the boisterous hunters. Some of Gunn’s crew
thought he was acting as if he were too good for them and had made comments.
What could have turned into a free for all was forestalled when Miller
looked at Riley and asked for permission to give their new friends a little
background. Instead of explaining Finn’s addiction and recovery, Miller told
them about the Initiative. In short, blunt statements he shared with them an
experience they had all had at one time or another - what it was like to
find out that monsters were real. The example of the Initiative’s racial
cleansing program couldn’t have come at a better time. Some loud-mouthed
out-of-towner had joined the crew and was advocating wholesale slaughter of
demons, whether that demon was a threat to humans or not. The story of
Maggie Walsh and her boy Adam shook up the hardened fighters. As Riley took
a photo out of his wallet and passed it around, Gunn and the rest of his
friends were shaken to the core by the story of what had happened to
Forrest.
Gunn liked Miller, but he didn’t trust Finn. He remembered what Harris had
said in that burned out building. Finn was weak, which okay that was who
they were supposed to protect, but that didn’t mean he felt safe having a
junkie watch his back. He consoled himself with the knowledge that if they
made good time they could scoop up the evil ex-lawyer and be out of there
before any fur-bearing demons showed.
^^^^^^^
Xander was still a bundle of energy when they returned from the witches’
place. Spike smiled as he tried to unlock the door while Xander pawed at his
body and nibble at his ear. The vampire chuckled and said, “If this is how
you react to homemade wine, I’m going to have a standing order with the shy
one - she won’t be able to keep it in stock.”
“You drank it? Spike, it tasted like cough medicine. I’m glad you didn’t
notice me pour into that big potted bamboo thing cause then I know Tara
didn’t see.” Xander said pushing Spike though the now open door. “I didn’t
want to hurt her feelings, but blech.” Xander ended with an elaborate,
full-bodied shudder and made a face that should have been impossible for
someone with a pulse and no demon.
“Then what’s got you in a state, Pet? Not that I mind, a horny Xander is a
thing of beauty.” Spike paused as his amorous mate licked his face and then
laughed and bit his neck.
“No work - for a whole week! Spike, it’s summer vacation all over again.
Sure, I’m ricocheting between ‘Oh, God! The site will go to hell without me’
and ‘Oh, God! The site won’t go to hell without me’. And I can’t decide
which is worse and if I’m a horrible person for not wanting them to be
entirely okay without me but not wanting them to bother me on vacation.”
Having finished his panic attack in a burst of babble, Xander breathed in
deeply, then he smiled and licked Spike’s face again, following the angular
cheekbone and then kissing his ear.
Spike snorted as Xander continued his assault and pushed/pulled him toward
the couch. He was torn between fucking Xander into unconsciousness to
encourage him getting the rest he deserved, and using this nervous energy to
let his mate wear him out in sticky, wicked ways. Xander made the decision
for him by pulling Spike down on top of him as he plopped down. They lay in
a heap on the couch while Xander nipped his way along Spike’s jaw ear to
ear. Spike purred and decided to just enjoy whatever Xander wanted to do.
Xander, it seemed, wanted to do everything. He rolled them over until he was
on top, nearly sending them both onto the floor. He lingered over Spike’s
neck, following the path of the veins down to the shoulders and chest. The
human was developing a knack for getting the vampire undressed without
swerving from his appointed task. Sucking gently first on one pale nipple
and then the other Xander purred himself, or at least emitted a reasonably
good imitation of Spike’s purr. The vibrations released a moan from the
vampire and as Spike buried both hands in Xander’s thick dark hair he sent a
silent thanks to the witches. He knew that by the time Xander reached his
destination he would be in no state to worry about the chip, and thanks to
them he wouldn’t have to. He tried to guide his lover’s course but the human
was stubborn and nipped the sensitive nipple, then licked it to make up.
Xander laughed, sending delicious vibrations though Spike’s body.
It occurred to Spike that in over a hundred years he had never had a lover
who laughed as much as Xander. How the hell the boy managed to laugh though
all the crap his life threw at him and how he had made Spike laugh before
the chip had been removed was amazing. Now, no matter how stressful or
dangerous Xander’s life was, he enjoyed it thoroughly. Spike had often
wondered, after he had been turned, how humans made it from day to day. They
were so far down on the food chain, their fates so uncertain and at the
mercy of so many merciless creatures, he marveled that they got out of bed
in the morning.
Xander was finally working his way down. Unexpectedly he grasped the hairs
which grew in a fine line down below Spike’s navel in his teeth and pulled
up. A tingle of not-quite pain set sparks off behind Spike’s eyes. There was
nothing on Earth or in Hell to compare with a playful Xander - this had to
be a little slice of Heaven. As Xander bit the inside of his thigh, ignoring
the weeping cock, Spike cried out, “Bloody hell, Pet, I’m the one’s supposed
to be evil here.”
Xander relented and took Spike’s length into his mouth just as he started to
laugh again. The vampire squirmed as he supressed the desire to thrust into
his mate’s warm, wet mouth. There was no chip to worry about, but an
unconscious Xander couldn’t do what he was doing.
^^^^^^^
Lindsey scanned the horizon. Dusk had been brief in the desert; the sun
dropped all too fast. It was a hell of a spot to break down. It was miles
from the last gas station he has passed and the map in his car told him that
he would have a least a couple hours’ walk to the next town. That walk would
have to wait until after dawn.
He had made it as far east as Provo before doubling back, and he was
thinking of heading south once he hit the coast again. For all his posturing
at his ‘exit interview’ he didn’t feel comfortable staying still. He hadn’t
spent more than twelve hours in any one place since he had left LA.
Intellectually, he felt he should be safe. He had enough of the firm’s
secrets squirreled away that his continued health should be in their best
interest, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched -
followed.
He knew he had survived his tenure at Wolfram and Hart only because of
incredible luck, absolute ruthlessness and a Machiavellian sense of
self-preservation. So, just because the firm hadn’t made a move yet, didn’t
stop him from anticipating their possible gambits.
He had everything he needed in the cramped cab of the truck. Stretching out
in the bed might be more comfortable but knowing just what could go bump in
the night made slinging his long legs over the gearshift infinitely more
appealing. All in all, a motel might give him more of an illusion of privacy
but he remembered how Drucilla had been able to waltz right into Darla’s
room without so much as a by-your-leave. Being that he had the pink slip on
the beat up old pickup and pretty much was using it as his primary
residence, he was hoping the PTBs would count it as his home.
Lindsey’s back was against the passenger side door. He had shucked off his
boots and they lay next to the crowbar, stakes and flask of holy water on
the floor. His feet were propped on the steering wheel and if he twisted at
the hip, into a slightly awkward position, he could play his guitar.
Sometimes it was all that kept him sane, provide he was still sane. On
sleepless nights like this he wasn’t so sure. At least he had his music
back. No matter how bad the nightmares got he couldn’t imagine doing without
it again.
Oddly enough, playing seemed to calm his hand; not that it was still giving
him messages like ‘kill, kill, kill’ but sometimes Lindsey could swear it
made decisions without consulting him. Like now, he had intended to play
something that sang the praises of being footloose and instead he had
started on a ballad with a freight train rhythm that bordered on a lament.
He sang anyway.
“The tar in the street starts to melt from the heat
And the sweats runnin' down from my hair
I walked 20 miles and I'm dragging my feet
And I'll walk 20 more I don't care
And I'll wander this world, wander this world
Wander this world, wander this world all alone
I'm like a ghost some people can't see
Others drive by and stare
A shadow that drifts by the side of the road
It's like I'm not even there
And I'll wander this world, wander this world
Wander this world, wander this world all alone
Well I've never been a part of the game
The life that I live is my own
All that I know is that I was born
To wander this world all alone, all alone
Some people are born with their lives all laid out
And all their success is assured
Some people work hard all their lives for nothin'
They take it and they don't say a word
They don't say a word
Sometimes it's like I don't even exist
Even God has lost track of my soul
Why else would he leave me out here like this
To wander this world all alone
And I'll wander this world, wander this world
Wander this world, wander this world all alone” (1)
He continued to play after he finished the turn, improvising around the
melody and humming under his breath, until headlights in the distance jarred
him out of his music-induced meditation. He reached for his boots.
^^^^^^^^
Gunn parked about twenty feet behind the pickup. He left the headlights on
as he stepped from the convertible. The beams spotlighted the back of the
truck, giving a limited view of the cab. McDonald appeared to be alone, but
he wasn’t taking any chances. He pulled his ax from the back seat and sensed
more than saw the commandos fall in behind him. He knew Miller would watch
the surroundings, leaving him to deal with the lawyer. He hoped that Finn
could be depended on to do the same.
Cordelia had called it to within a tenth of a mile. Sometimes, with all her
high maintenance attitude, it was hard to remember just how spooky she was.
Wes had given him a brief rundown of hellhounds, having apparently crossed
paths with them with Cordy back in Sunnydale. Until he had visited there
himself, he hadn’t understood Cordelia’s battle weary dismissal of some of
the freakier aspects of their job. Once he had seen some of what she had
survived in high school, he realized that when she said “I’m from Sunnydale
- we have our own Hellmouth” it meant something. That old beau of hers was
just the type of tenacious warrior he would have expected a class act like
Cordy to have been involved with - no wonder she had survived with him
looking out for her.
The lawyer stepped down from the cab. Worn jeans battered boots had replaced
the suits that had probably cost more than Gunn had ever earned in a given
year. “Charles Gunn.” The lawyer’s voice held a trace of an accent Gunn
couldn’t place and which he wasn’t sure had ever been noticeable before.
“McDonald,” Gunn nodded.
“Little out of your element, aren’t you?” McDonald’s eyes shifted nervously
from Gunn to his backup and continued to survey the surrounding area, as if
expecting an attack.
“Not really. Still helping the hopeless. That would be you. Cordy said
you’re about to be turned into a great big chew toy for a pack of
hellhounds. You want to come with us, or should we just videotape it?” Gunn
waited, enjoying the shocked look that crossed the lawyer’s face before
years of dissembling enabled him to hide it with a board expression.
~~~~~~~
Xander woke up naked and spread-eagled on the bed. A lazy smile crossed his
face as the memory of the activities leading up to his nap replayed behind
his closed eyelids. It felt so good to not have to worry about an alarm or
how many things he had to squeeze into the next day. Steam wafted out the
open bathroom door and over the sound of the shower Spike sang,
“They look
so lovely and pale
When they kiss the third rail
and they won’t step lively any more.” (2)
Xander laughed to himself and crawled across the rumpled bed toward the
bathroom. He hoped their new neighbors liked Spike’s voice, since he had had
no luck getting his lover to conform to human sleep cycles. They had been
fortunate that none of their current neighbors had complained of Spike’s odd
hours.
It was the wee hours of the morning - dawn wasn’t yet lighting the sky - but
the smell of the breeze had changed. Sometimes, like now, Xander tried to
remember if he had been able to sense the smell of dawn before Spike had
claimed him. He though he might have, if he had tried, but it hadn’t
mattered before. He was jarred out of his musings by Spike playing air
guitar in the shower. Bleached hair stood up in tufts as he mimicked a riff
and jumped up and down. Xander bit his lip to keep from laughing as his
lover’s dangly bits flopped up and down as he got into the imaginary music.
Xander supposed he was lucky it was imaginary and figured he owed Spike for
that - among other things.
Xander slipped into the shower and wrestled Spike up against the wall.
“Think I could get a private performance of that?”
“Like the classics, do you?” Spike leered.
“You might say I’ve developed a taste for fine antiques.” Xander leered
back.
“Oy! Antique? Who're you...?” Spike’s protest morphed into a purr when
Xander demonstrated the taste he had developed by biting down on the same
spot of flesh above Spike’s collarbone that sported the mark on his own.
Spike had picked him up and carried him, wet and naked, halfway back to the
bed before Xander had finished licking off the blood he had drawn. Spike
tossed him into the middle of the mattress and pounced before Xander
finished bouncing. Xander couldn’t stop giggling as Spike nipped his way up
from his knee to his navel, growling and in gameface the whole time. Xander
grabbed his lover’s hair and pulled him up to face him. Feathering kisses
over the demonic ridges of his brow Xander whispered over and over, “I love
you.”
Spike purred and held himself just over Xander’s body on strong forearms. He
lowered himself into the kisses and rubbed up along his mate’s long frame,
brushing their ready erections together and causing Xander’s breathy words
to transform into a moan.
Spike trailed his fangs along the erotically exposed throat of his mate and
Xander shuddered with desire beneath him. He increased the tempo of the
friction between them, working all of Xander’s hot spots until the human
came hard against his stomach. Spike waited until he felt the post-climax
languor spread through Xander’s body before lifting his mate’s hips. He slid
in with ease, since they had coupled only an hour before, and was rewarded
with the look of utter contentment in those dreamy, sated brown eyes. Xander
reached up and pulled Spike down into a long, slow kiss. Spike lost himself
in those eyes when he pulled back and began an equally slow rhythm.
^^^^^^^
Day was breaking in the city by the time the four of them returned to the
Hyperion. Lindsey had his guitar and his duffel bag. He wondered if he’d
ever see the truck again. He had liked that truck. The muscle followed him
into the hotel after Gunn had tossed them the keys and taken off in his
truck. To be fair, Angel’s flunkie had introduced them as Finn and Miller,
but the ride back had been in silence. Lindsey hadn’t wanted to ask any
questions and give away how little he knew. He was sorry to see that the
lobby was empty; Cordelia was always good for information, whether she
intended to spill it or not.
Finn looked nervous and edgy. The young man had been shooting him cautious
glances since they had pick him up. Miller was as impassive, as he had been
since they met. Lindsey had dealt with a number of people like him at the
firm and wondered if he was a sociopath - there was something unnerving
about that controlled discipline.
Angel descended the darkened staircase. Smirking at Lindsey, he silently
made his way across the lobby. “Problems?” he asked Finn.
“No sign of the hellhounds, but he was right where Cordelia said he would
be.” The young man ducked his head as he gave his report then looked up at
the vampire as if looking for approval.
“Good, get some rest. Graham, show Lindsey to a room, Wes wants to have a
chat with him in the morning.” Angel turned to go.
Lindsey wasn’t standing for that. He may or may not be in the damned
corpse’s debt, yet again, but he wouldn’t stand by and be dismissed.
“It’s morning now. If he wants to talk to me before I leave, he better do it
now,” Lindsey drawled. He was pretty sure he remembered how to push his
host’s buttons.
“You’ll talk when he’s ready,” Angel said without turning around. “Take the
room, McDonald. Don’t make me hunt you.”
1. ‘Wander This World’ Jonny Lang
2. ‘Subway Terror.’ Michael Lee Smith (Starz)
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