|
Back
|
|
Chapter 2
Doyle slowly raised his hand and kept it held in
the air.
Angel frowned and gathered the energy to ask. Xander’s Thanksgiving dinner
was sitting heavy in his stomach, so even speech took all his vampiric
strength. “Doyle? Did you…want to ask something?”
The arm plus its attached hand dropped back to ground with a large sigh
from its owner. “Vision,” Doyle explained.
The room’s other three occupants groaned. “Not now,” Xander complained.
“What did you see?” Angel asked, sitting forward and desperately trying to
wake up and disperse the after-dinner snoozies.
“Erm, big demon. Teenage boy. Lotta blood.” Doyle sighed again and
scrambled to his feet, grateful when Angel steadied him.
“Do you need something? For your head?” Angel asked
“Like a baseball bat?” Spike joked, wincing when Xander finally managed to
hit him for real.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Xander chided.
Doyle quickly popped a handful of little blue pills in his mouth and
swallowed them dry. “Right, come on. The demon in question is in the
sewers. The quicker we get there and knock its block off, the quicker we
can get back here and doze in front of the telly. ‘Cos, I don’t know about
the rest of you guys, but I’m fit for absolutely nothing.”
“Do I have to go?” Xander asked. “I could just stay here and…keep an eye
on the pumpkin pie.”
Oh, Spike knew exactly what that meant. It meant that Xander would eat
the pumpkin pie. All of it. He might be too stuffed to eat another morsel
of turkey dinner, but his Xander had what was known as a pudding stomach.
It was totally separate from the common dinner stomach and had plenty of
room for tarts, cakes, sweet pies, etc.
There was no way that Spike was going to leave him all alone with a
defenceless pumpkin pie.
“Pet, if you stay, you do the washing up.”
“And I’m so coming with you.” Xander heaved himself up from the couch and
headed over to a cupboard in the corner of the room. He pulled out a large
axe for himself and a sword for Spike. A quick, obligatory goodbye was
sent to their mystical snake, Isis, via a blown kiss and Xander was ready.
“We’re gonna make this quick, right? ‘Cos I could fall asleep right now.”
Spike snatched at Xander’s axe and pulled it away from him. “You can have
this back when we meet the demon. Don’t want you running with it. You’re
bloody dangerous when you’re half asleep.”
“Hey, I’m sorry about the scissors, okay? It’s not like I aimed for you.
And I wasn’t running; I was walking very quickly.”
“No. You were definitely…” Spike paused and sniffed the air. “What’s that
smell?”
Doyle waved his hand behind him. “Sorry about that. Turkey does that to me
sometimes.”
Spike recoiled in disgust. “Bloody hell! You could have warned a bloke!
Your guts are worse than mine!”
Angel had to agree. “Let’s just get going; get some fresh air in the
sewer.”
Everybody nodded – even Doyle. It was a great idea.
**
The walk through the sewers was a quiet one. Going out on a mission was
definitely the last thing anyone wanted to do after eating a Thanksgiving
meal. Xander had served up the largest turkey in the whole of LA, plus an
endless assortment of potatoes, vegetables and stuffings. And every scrap
had been consumed, every morsel virtually inhaled.
If only Doyle could have had a vision to let him know that he would be
getting a vision. Xander could have easily delayed lunch until after the
victim was saved and the Big Bad was slaughtered.
They trudged tiredly though what seemed like endless sewer tunnels, Doyle
guiding them from his position at the rear – for obvious reasons. “Not
much further,” he called.
Xander stopped and waited for Doyle to catch up. “I feel like I’m gonna
burst,” he complained.
“Well, if you are gonna burst, man, do it way over there.” Doyle pointed
into the far off distance. “This shirt is new and the last thing I want is
Xander-pieces all over it.”
“I’ll be sure to aim myself in Spike’s direction, then.”
“Thanks.”
“Welcome.” Xander grinned. “What else are friends for?”
The rest of the journey was made in complete silence, no-one quite having
the energy to utter even a single syllable. Even Spike and Angel remained
quiet as they walked side by side. It made a nice, but freaky, change to
not hear them bickering.
As for Doyle and Xander, the silence certainly wasn’t an uncomfortable
one, more of a companionable one. In the months that Xander had been in
LA, he and Doyle had become solid friends – the best of friends, in fact.
It was a good feeling for both of them.
For years Xander had longed for a friend that would make him feel like an
equal, a friend that would make him feel like he belonged. Sure, he loved
Buffy and Willow with all his heart and he would never swap them for
anything, but Doyle was different. Doyle was a guy, which meant he didn’t
braid hair or shop for shoes or spend five hours discussing the difference
between cheap mascara and the good stuff.
Doyle was fun. Doyle was a mischief maker. Doyle was a joker.
Doyle was just like Jesse.
Yeah, Xander was going to hold on to Doyle with both hands. There was no
way he was letting another one slip away.
In the distance, Spike turned around and gave his best version of a
comforting smile. It was tempting to assume that Spike had picked up
Xander’s feelings through the consort bond, but Xander knew better.
Where Xander was concerned, Spike was an absolute mind-reader. He always
knew what Xander wanted, even before Xander knew that he wanted it.
Spike’s ability to decipher, intercept, and fix at the speed of light just
by looking at his lover’s eyes was nothing short of miraculous.
Xander offered a smile - out of a selection of literally thousands - back
that said ‘I’m fine. Brain just rattling.’
Spike nodded and clutched at his stomach as though a whole turkey might
burst through at any moment. Bloody sprouts.
“What does this demon look like?” Xander asked, turning back to Doyle.
Doyle stopped and pointed. “Um, like that.”
“Oh, so when you said ‘big demon’ you really meant it, huh?”
“Uh-huh.”
“But you didn’t say anything about six arms,” Xander pointed out.
Helpfully.
“Didn’t I?” Doyle, who was in a small amount of shock, said. The demon
definitely looked bigger in the flesh. “I guess I only saw its…teeth.”
“What teeth…? Oh!” Xander instinctively staggered back and stared up at
the huge dripping fangs. “Wow. Shiny.”
A hand against his chest pressed him back further and, as he looked down,
Spike pressed the axe into his hands.
“You and Doyle stay back. Jump in only if it looks dire. And if you put
yourself at risk…there’ll be no pumpkin pie.”
Xander’s expression was stricken. “Okay. Deal,” he said reluctantly.
Spike narrowed his eyes and checked that Xander’s fingers weren’t crossed.
“Right, then.” And with a nod, and a cry of war, he launched himself at
the demon.
TBC…
|