Suki Blue Fiction

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Chapter 17

Xander shifted in his seat and tried to make his neck disappear into his shoulders using sheer willpower alone. He was positive Angel was checking it out. Or checking him out. Or perhaps Angel’s glances were merely murderous. After all, hello? Vampire?

It had been an uneventful few weeks, filled with the joys of school, plenty of TV and now a quiet research/study sesh/Scooby meeting. Actually, it was a somewhat impromptu gathering, with everyone in attendance but with no particular reason or explanation – except for the marvel of the hive mind at its best. Or worst.

Sitting at the table opposite him, Willow looked up from her text book and smiled. “Are you stuck?”

Xander looked down at his book and then back up at Willow. He winced as he spoke. “I would actually have had to read some of this to know if I was, right?”

Willow’s pigtails waggled once at the side of her head as she nodded firmly. “Yep.”

“I’ll, uh, just get on with that right now…” Voices from the stacks signalled Giles and Buffy’s approach, “…unless these guys need some help with saving the world,” Xander finished. “What do you say, Giles? Are you in desperate need of my services to avert some sort of crisis?”

With a pile of books in his arms and Buffy trailing behind him, Giles walked down the steps from the stacks. “I’d say your homework is in desperate need of your services just at the moment.”

“That’s where I think you’re wrong,” Xander replied, pointing his pencil at Giles.

Giles rolled his eyes and walked away into his office.

“Something I said?” Xander called after him.

“Don’t mind him,” Buffy said. “He’s been a grouch all day.” She pulled out a chair with a scrape and sat down next to Willow. Briefly smiling shyly at Angel, she turned her attention back to Xander. “I don’t think he’s getting his daily dosage of Apocalypse. Apparently, it isn’t a good week unless the world nearly ends.”

“And this is why Wal-Mart should sell Apocalypse-in-a-bottle,” Xander said. “Child proof caps, of course. But for nineteen ninety five plus tax you can push, twist and hey presto!”

“Is Giles just being grumpy Watcher guy?” Willow asked a little more seriously.

Buffy nodded. “Totally. Train, blah, blah; Chosen One, blah, blah; save all the children and old people blah, blah, yawn.” She picked up Xander’s now discarded pencil and began a random doodle. “All work and no play for the Slayer.”

Willow leaned forward and whispered. “You could play with Angel.”

“Willow!” Buffy picked up a ball of screwed-up paper and threw it gently at her friend. “You’re so bad!”

“He’s waiting to take you for smoochies,” Willow continued.

Xander watched Angel twitch and nearly look up. He almost felt sorry for the guy. Almost. Not quite. Well, a little. “Uh, you both realise he can hear you, yes?” he asked.

Both girls looked at him dumbly.

“Vampire hearing?” Xander reminded. “Extraordinary ability to hear a lemon drop from a mile away? Plus, guys, come on, he’s like three feet away.”

Buffy grinned innocently up at her boyfriend. “Wanna split?” she asked him.

Clearly embarrassed, much to Xander’s amusement, Angel nodded and started for the door. “I’ll meet you outside,” he said without pausing.

“Do you think he ever does that zippy thing when anyone’s actually looking?” Xander asked.

“I beg your pardon?” Giles said as he came out of his office and took a seat at the end of the table.

“The zippy thing,” Xander clarified - not very well. When all the faces looking at him remained blank, he explained. “You know, one minute he’s there, the next he’s not. I just wonder if he ever does it when someone’s watching. Don’t you think it would look weird?”

Willow nodded enthusiastically. “Like the Roadrunner. He probably makes that boinging noise when he stops. He probably does the tongue thing too!”

Wearing a huge grin, Xander turned to Buffy in an exaggerated movement. “Does he?” he asked. “Does he do the Roadrunner tongue thing?”

Willow hid her sudden bout of giggles behind two hands while Buffy picked up her folder and hit Xander with a firm strike.

“Ow!”

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Giles groaned. “I think it’s time we all went home.”

Xander rubbed his arm and tried not to laugh. “Any chance of a ride, G-man? I don’t think I’ll ever walk again.”

Without acknowledging Xander’s well-off-the-mark injury, Giles stood. “Anyone who wants a ride, come with me now.”

Willow and Xander stood at once and quickly pushed their books and stationery into their bags. Buffy was a little slower.

“Not coming?” Giles asked.

“Naah, I’ll pass. Angel and I will probably do a quick sweep of the cemetery then he’ll walk me home.”

“He’s her ride,” Willow whispered to Xander.

Shocked and appalled – at least to the untrained eye – Xander covered Willow’s mouth with his hand. “Please excuse my friend. She seems to be stealing all my lines.”

**

The days, evenings and nights were boring, and each time the moon sank and the sun rose, Xander was disappointed to find the new day was just as boring and mundane as the last.

He busied himself with school, parent-sitting, his friends and his books. Xander had so far read his way through a stack of books as tall as he was, all procured from Giles. Devouring each one like he was an addict and the semi-precious tomes were his crack, Xander inhaled every piece of information he could find.

He was Info Guy now. Xander knew everything there was to know about vampires and all demons native to both California and the entire South West.

Maybe that was an exaggeration. He didn’t know everything about them. But he did have a sneaky suspicion he knew more than Willow; and in his book that was even better than knowing everything.

Xander now had a basic knowledge of all things Hellmouthy, witchy, culty, weirdy and spooky. Which was good. Except…it had got boring exactly a week ago.

He knew this stuff now. He knew enough to help Buffy out, to not be a third wheel, to have some pride in his contribution to the group. But it wasn’t enough.

Yeah, witches practiced magic, didn’t fly around on broomsticks and weren’t always Wiccans. And yes, a Nerflux Demon stood seven feet tall and could only be killed with water. Oh, oh, and ghosts probably did exist, and watch out for Vengeance Demons and be nice to women unless you wanted your happy bits barbecued.

It was all very helpful and very interesting, really. But there was so much more and, damn it, why wouldn’t Giles give him more? He was ready! He was Info Guy!

But Inner Xander was demanding to know why Outer Xander wanted to weigh himself down with text books, history and information that had nothing to do with Batman. Was the Dark Knight not good enough? Were tales of Gotham, Metropolis and Oa not enough? Had the Green Lanterns had their day?

No, of course not. Batman rocked, Superman was still a dick but a lovable one, and Xander was nearly ready to admit his childhood crush on Hal Jordan.

Really, there were two reasons for Xander’s thirst for knowledge. One, he wanted to actually be good at something and maybe, just this once, he actually was, and two, he needed to focus his mind.

He needed to not think about Spike.

Every time Xander was left to his own devices, his thoughts drifted back to Spike. See?! He was doing it now!

And time and time again Xander had tried in vain to deny what Spike was. Spike was a nice vampire. It wasn’t Spike’s fault. Spike hadn’t wanted to be turned. It was Drusilla’s fault. It was Angelus’ fault. Spike hardly ever killed. Spike was a fluffy kitten who needed to be petted.

Okay, so maybe the real Spike would like Xander to pet him, but it would be touch and go as to whether Xander got petted back or lost every drop of his blood.

He’d had to face facts: Spike was a killer. It didn’t matter that he had a body to die for – ha, ha – or that he had the most gorgeous cheekbones or that his hands were so soft. At the end of the day, Spike had no soul. He was evil.

And strangely, the day that Xander had finally and truly accepted that was the day that he felt a thousand times better. Spike was bad, bad, bad to the bone, evil, soulless, blahdy blah.

Fine. Whatever.

And Xander had a crush on him. So what? Was that so wrong? Who didn’t love the bad guy? Bad guys were hot; it was a known fact. The issue wasn’t that Xander wanted to tumble with William the Bloody. The issue was that he was gay! Yes, yes, yes.

Or perhaps just that he had gay thoughts. Small ones, involving tight Kevlar and leather.

“Xander!”

The shrill screech of his mother’s voice jolted Xander from his potential fantasy. He left his book on his bed, crossed his tiny bedroom and flung open the door. “What?”

“There’s a man here to see you!”

Xander’s throat went dry. Spike. No, that was stupid. Why would it be Spike?

“Who is it?” The wait for his mother’s voice was agonising, each second chipping away at his heart and turning his knees to rubber. Oh god, he felt like he wanted to die. Or perhaps just vomit.

“He says his name is Angel!”

Okay, so vomiting would have been an appropriate response.

Logic had told him it wouldn’t be Spike. But hope was louder than logic and yet again he’d allowed himself to listen to it, to get drawn in by it. It wasn’t Spike; of course it wasn’t.

And why exactly couldn’t he damn-well stop obsessing?

And why exactly was Angel at the door? Xander thought about that. Oh no. Please don’t have let him in. Please don’t have let him in.

Xander rushed from his bedroom and took the stairs four steps at a time. He landed at the bottom with a loud thump and quickly made his way to the front door, narrowly avoiding a stray pizza box on the way.

Maybe Angel was souled up and evil-free, but that didn’t mean Xander had to trust him. If he couldn’t trust Spike – if he wasn’t allowed to do that – then there was no god-damn way he was trusting Angel. It was a principle.

To Xander’s intense relief, Angel was outside, on the porch, with his hands clutched in front of him, looking to all intents and purposes not about to attack in a family-style killing frenzy. “What are you doing here?” Xander asked sharply.

“Xander,” his mother chided. “Where are your manners?”

“I flushed them.”

Jessica Harris shook her head and smiled kindly at Angel.

It annoyed Xander greatly to see she was embarrassed.

“Please excuse Xander,” she said. “He’s doesn’t normally behave like this.”

Oh god, she’s batting her eyelashes at him. Please, if anyone down there is listening, please swallow her up. I’ll pay good money.

“It’s okay,” Angel said.

I really hate that guy. He smiling at her! He’s actually smiling at my mom! That…mom-smiler!!

Jessica Harris stepped back from the door, her already flushed cheeks turning an even deeper shade of cherry. “Angel, would you like to…”

“NO!” Xander interrupted with a shout.

Jessica jumped and grabbed at her chest. “Xander, for god’s sake, what is wrong with you?!”

“Just…could you not invite him in?”

“Why?” Her hands went to her hips and she looked sternly between Xander and Angel.

“Mom, please, trust me. I don’t want him in the house, okay?”

She looked unsure now and her hands dropped to her sides. She looked suspiciously at Angel and then back at her son. “Should I get your father?” she asked.

“No, Mom. Could you just go away, please?” Xander stopped and reconsidered his options. “Actually, I need to go out anyway.” He grabbed his jacket from the closet and shrugged it on.

“Well, don’t be late,” his mother said after a thoughtful pause.

“I won’t.” This was one of only a few times that Xander was glad his mother was usually an agreeable drunk. He watched her smile at Angel with an unsure expression before she turned around and shuffled back down the hallway in her fluffy slippers. Damn things. Although they did look comfortable.

“What did you say you wanted again?” Xander asked when he and Angel reached the sidewalk.

“Giles has called a meeting.”

“Really? Well, colour me Already Knew That.”

“I thought you could use an escort.” Angel’s voice was soft and his tone was the exact same tone that Xander had heard him use a thousand times. In fact, Xander was pretty sure Angel didn’t have another tone.

“Hey, I can take care of myself, buddy. Got my trusty stake and cross,” Xander patted his pockets in illustration, “and I ate plenty of garlic for dinner.”

Angel was silent, so much so that Xander suspected he’d done his Roadrunner act and was now at the school gates, anvil at the ready. He didn’t look around to check, keeping his eye on the bushes to his left instead. Bushes were dangerous. Contrary to popular belief, they weren’t just for rolling around in. People and demons lurked in them, too.

“That doesn’t work, you know? The garlic. It doesn’t harm us,” Angel finally said.

Xander did look around then. He fixed Angel with an unamused glare. “I was joking.”

“Okay,” Angel said. “Sure.”

“Hey! I was joking!”

“If you say so.”

“Fine. Don’t believe me. I don’t care.” Xander sulked for half a block. “I’ll have you know I know more about vampires than most vampires themselves,” he said when the silence became unbearable and the urge to talk was just too much.

It got Xander a raised eyebrow and a faintly amused glance. “More than me?” Angel asked.

“Probably. You look pretty dumb. And why the escort, by the way? Why now?”

Angel simply shrugged.

“Is this about Spike?” Xander asked. “Is…is he back?” The second question was asked much more quietly than the first.

“No, he’s not. And this has nothing to do with him.”

Xander’s stare narrowed. “Just call me a disbeliever, but I really can’t see why else you feel you have to Scooby-sit me.”

“It isn’t about Spike,” Angel repeated. “I was just passing and I thought it would be a good idea to make sure you got to the school safely.”

“Logical as that sounds? Not buying it. Tell me the real reason and please make it a reason other than I’m planning to assault you again.”

“I’m still sorry about that,” Angel said.

“Still? You’re a piece of work.”

“I’m trying to help. I’m…trying to keep you alive. All of you.”

Xander was sure he detected an additional tone in Angel’s voice: a sliver of pain, a tiny slice of worry, an ache that bubbled just beneath Angel’s monotone persona. He thought he might ask about it, but one look at Angel’s deadpan face changed his mind. It would be a waste of his breath.

Instead, he carried on walking towards the school, chattering all the way about mindless crap he was sure Angel could care less about, and trying not to wish Spike was there.

TBC…