Trickster 6 and End
Jul. 9th, 2005 10:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lit_galOkay, here's part 6 of 6 of my ElderVamp Xander series
beta'ed by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
velvet_virago
Oh shit, to hell with the children, he had to have dreamed it. One very long 900 year dream, and when he turned around he was going to find an empty warehouse. Or possibly a warehouse full of vampires who wanted to kill him, and actually that might be of the good.
Xander turned around to see Angel and Spike exactly where he remembered leaving them… or rather right where he remembered the being that had been walking around in his skin leaving them. And oh shit. Xander felt his cock rise at the sight of the two vampires chained together and waiting for him to do something. A pair of brown eyes opened slowly.
“Xander?” Angel asked, and if he didn’t know better, Xander would have sworn he heard concern and uncertainty in that voice which had always seemed to know everything.
“Oh shit.” Xander said after spitting out a pair of plastic vampire teeth. Naked vampires. Sexy naked vampires. He looked everywhere except at the two naked, sexy bodies in front of him. Not looking at that, nope. Not at all.
“Bloody hell,” a voice tiredly swore, and Xander felt a pull toward that voice—he shouldn’t let Spike feel such despair, but then hey, vampire… he was supposed to hate vampires. He *did* hate vampires, and why didn’t that sound convincing? Xander shook his head as though he could shake the new memories out.
“Xander, are you alright?” Xander snorted at that question. Angel was asking if his rapist was alright. Oh shit. He was; he was a rapist. Sure he’d tried with Buffy, but he hadn’t actually hurt her, and what did it say about him that every time he went and got possessed he got all pervy? And again with the so not going there.
“Xander, it was a spell. You need to get the keys for the locks.” Xander looked up, and Angel still lay with his head against Spike’s thigh, and Spike’s hands had closed into tight fists. Xander searched Spike’s expression, but the younger vampire stared off in the opposite direction with a face frozen in a sneer.
“Try talkin’ slower, Peaches, boy’s a bit slow.” Spike finally said even as he looked off into the darkness. Xander opened his mouth, a reprimand automatically coming to his lips, but then he closed it again. He had no right to reprimand Spike. He shouldn’t even be in the same room with Spike without Buffy to hide behind. So why did he care so damn much that Spike would say such a thing?
“Shut up, Spike,” Angel ordered, but even Xander could tell that Angel lost some authority while naked, chained, and lying on top of Spike while smelling of Spike’s come. And that should not be a sexy thought. The sight of a drop of Spike’s come on Angel's chin should not be sexy because he was not gay! Not gay and not attracted to sexy, naked, tied up vampires. Looking at the evidence of his guilt, Xander felt a desire to just run right out of the building, but he had never run when things got hard before and he wasn’t going to start now.
“Keys… right,” he said quietly as he went to the shelf where he had stacked each key carefully. Taking them all he walked toward the table and stopped at the sight of Angel’s still vulnerable ass with Xander’s come trickling down his exposed thighs. Angel’s struggles had shifted the chains on his legs so that he couldn’t stand, and Xander was not noticing how that looked with the thick metal links pressing into pale flesh. His cock was not reacting to the sight of two such powerful creatures bound and helpless because he had defeated them, chained them, and claimed them. And oh god, he was so gay.
Shit, things had been so simple a few minutes ago, but now Xander bent down near the locks. The smell of musk was stronger here, and Xander’s eyes noticed the shimmer of liquid on the floor under the table. Angel’s come, he realized.
He remembered the feeling of Angel writhing under him as Spike growled his pleasure, and Xander snapped open the two locks before he could do something he would regret. Well, something else he would regret because he had plenty of the regret worthy now without running his hands down those strong limbs. He unwound the chains so that Angel could struggle to his feet without wrapping his fingers around Angel’s neck in order to control the vampire’s movements, and why did he feel such a strong desire to do both?
“Oi, watch your hands, ya wanker,” Spike complained from the table as Angel struggled up, and then Xander handed Angel two keys, one to the padlock around his neck and one to the manacles. The sight of Spike’s slender wrists encircled with rope made him want things Xander Lavelle Harris just simply did not want. No wanting here. He just needed to get that message to his quickly hardening cock.
“Xander, wait outside,” Angel ordered, and Xander could hear the sounds of metal grinding on metal as Angel freed himself. Yesterday he would have listened to that order, he would have complained and griped and tattled to Buffy about Angel ordering him around, but he would have listened and obeyed. Now Xander felt his face flush and his temper rise at Angel’s temerity for trying to order him around.
Of course, Xander didn’t even process the meaning of Angel’s words until he heard the table groan. He looked over to see Spike putting every fiber of muscle into breaking the ropes that held him. His arm muscles stood out in sharp curves and his eyes pressed closed so tightly that wrinkles appeared at the corners. In a flash Xander knew what Angel planned; after all, they were vampires and in the world of vampires there were winners and losers, and the losers died. Spike had trusted the wrong person; Spike was helpless, and Xander should want an evil vampire turned to dust. He was a Scoobie, which meant he should say, “Yes, Angel” and wait by the door as Angel did what he always did, clean up the evil that was too much for children’s eyes.
“No,” Xander all but snarled. He was no child.
“Xander,” Angel turned toward him with a low guttural tone of warning.
“Not a chance,” Xander snarled as he stepped forward. Angel still stood naked, and Xander watched with a feral grin as he realized the advantage his own clothed state gave him.
“Fine, I’ll do it with you here.” Angel turned to pick up a shard of wood from the floor and Xander glanced at Spike who lay spread eagled like a sacrificial victim, his eyes closed and his lips pressed into a thin line. Rather than beg or offer to submit or promise to leave town, Spike lay there silent, and Xander couldn’t do it. More importantly, he couldn’t allow Angel to do it.
Angel turned back around with a stake in hand, but Xander had already grabbed a piece of that broken chair as he put himself between Angel and the Spike for the second time.
“Xander, move.” Angel lowered his brow in an expression of determination that should have sent Xander running. Instead Xander gripped his broken wood hard enough that he could feel the sharp edge digging into his palm.
“Not a chance. You want to dust him, you can just cut him free and give him a fighting chance.” Xander spoke in a low, strong voice that he could barely even recognize as his own as he faced down a master vampire.
“Xander,” and again with the dark tones of warning.
“It takes a pretty damn weak vamp to dust someone like this. It’s not like you tied him up; in fact, you’ve been pretty pathetically bad at stopping Spike at all.” Xander snapped back, verbally striking out at Angelus’ weak spot. Angel’s eyes flashed yellow, and then an expression of sad calmness overtook his features.
“Xander, this is not the time.”
“Yes, Angel, it is,” Xander dropped his own voice in challenge. “I’m not going to let you kill him after I tied him up for you.” Xander stepped backwards and started working the ropes around Spike’s hand. For one moment, Xander caught Spike’s eye and the surprise on that face made him momentarily freeze. Spike hadn’t expected to be protected; he had expected Angel to stake him as Xander stood by, and Xander felt his heart tighten in pain. He broke eye contact as he turned his attention back to the knots that Spike had pulled tight and to Angel who stood glowering.
“Yeah, not right ta kill someone who’s all helpless,” Spike finally added snarkily.
Angel snapped, “Shut up, Spike,” at the same time Xander commented, “You’re not helping here.”
“Wanker,” Spike replied, and Xander wasn’t even sure who that was directed toward. The last bit of the knot came free and Xander glanced down as Spike shook his hand to get rid of the rope still dangling from his wrist. Xander reached out and grabbed the trailing ends, and Spike froze, staring at Xander, and Xander’s eyes felt suddenly warm as he saw the open pain.
Before he could say anything, Spike had snatched his hand away with a hiss, and Xander was left with rope burn along the length of his palm. Xander then stepped away from the table as Spike worked the other knots himself. Unwilling to see that pain again, Xander turned his back and concentrated on protecting Spike from Angel who had an expression of disbelief, which looked pretty much like every other expression Angel had except for the mouth that actually hung open.
Xander continued to stare Angel down as he listened to Spike shuffle around behind him. It gave him lots of time to consider just how stupid he was for turning his back to Spike with all the broken wood on the floor, but he wouldn’t even blame Spike if he found a piece of wood suddenly sticking out of his back. He really did have it coming because he understood just how much he had damaged Spike with the forced submission and the promises that Xander was now unable to keep. He understood in the way that only a vampire could understand.
“Bloody loons in this town. Soon as Dru’s alright, you can have your soddin’ Hellmouth back, and I hope it swallows both of you.” Spike snarled his anger, but the pain hadn’t disappeared from his face totally. Xander listened to Spike’s boots echo across the concrete, the steps growing increasingly distant and speeding up as Spike ran for an exit. Which left just one horrifyingly horrible problem. Xander kept looking at Angel, and finally the older vampire sighed as he started walking towards Xander. Xander backed up quickly, but Angel simply stopped near the table to retrieve his clothes.
Angel had finished putting on his pants and was buttoning his shirt when he suddenly looked up.
“Is that my shirt?” Angel asked. Xander almost laughed out loud. Not what he really thought they’d discuss, but as he looked down at the red silk with fancy silver buttons, he realized it was.
“Yeah.”
“How’d… never mind,” Angel said with a tired sigh and Xander moved closer to sit on the edge of the table as Angel knelt down to put on his shoes. When Angel finished, he moved to sit on the table beside Xander, and that wasn’t awkward at all… no desire to flee in horror, Xander mused as he tried to figure out what to say because the silence was getting creepy.
“Um, I’m not really sure what to say here other than this big awkward silence is really just… awkward. Well that, and I am really sorry. Really, really sorry. Completely humiliated, mortified, and sorry.” Xander stared at his shoes.
“Xander,” Angel interrupted. “It’s okay.”
“I don’t know how you could call that alright. That was as far from alright as… oh shit. I ate Larry.”
“You remember?”
“I remember 900 years of torturing and killing and really kinda liking it.” Xander thought back over the centuries of murder and pervy sex and sitting at his Nusa’s feet and battle with the smell of blood heavy in his nose, and he really needed to stop before he made an indecent proposal to his friend’s boyfriend. And oh shit, Angel had vamp smell. Since he knew Angel would have already smelled him, Xander just reached down and adjusted his pants which had grown suddenly tight.
“Oh,” Angel’s toneless answer revealed nothing, and Xander looked over at that stony face. He never had been good at reading human faces, but he now realized that Angel was the one person in the universe who did understand how that felt.
“Sucks, huh?” he asked, and Angel looked over at him in surprise.
“Yeah,” Angel agreed. Xander sat there silently. He knew that he hadn’t actually done the things he remembered, but Angel had. When Angel remembered torture, he was remembering his past and not some spell induced hallucination.
“Does it get… ‘easier’ is really sounding like a bad word to use here, but I don’t know, less vivid? ‘Cause I can do without the Technicolor memory of human organs.”
“Not for me.” Angel said quietly. Xander couldn’t even come up with an answer for that, so he just sat silently next to Angel without even baiting the vampire.
“Are we bonding?” Angel asked after a long silence as they sat in the dark surrounded by the remains of what, in vampire terms, had been a wonderful evening.
“God I hope not,” Xander answered, but without much enthusiasm for his traditional Angel bashing. The world looked so different with nine hundred years of experience whispering new truths in his ear. The evil and soulless Spike needed him, a concept that he was planning on repressing, possibly with large amounts of illegally obtained alcohol. The souled Angel actually had a reason to brood, and he was never going to admit that one out loud. Giles and the Watchers had no clue about what really drove a vampire, and he wasn’t about to explain. If he was lucky, the memories would fade with the magic.
“Would you have killed me?” Angel finally asked.
“Fuck, yeah,” Xander replied quietly. He knew what Angel really needed to know; Angel needed to know who had forced him to submit—it was a vampire thing. “I was Xander childe of Nusa, one seriously bad-ass vamp who thought you were this abomination that someone needed to put down, but just not until after a whole lot of kinky sex.” Xander froze. “And I did not just say that last bit. You imagined it… you must be suffering blood loss.” Angel laughed softly while Xander froze again as he remembered why Angel was suffering blood loss.
“I figured that part out already.” Angel said with amusement.
“And I am so going to hell for that part.” Xander fell silent, and with Angel being his usual chatty self, the sounds of the wind against the corrugated metal roof dominated the night.
“It wasn’t really you, Xander.”
“It feels like it was me.” Xander admitted. He didn’t know why he needed Angel to understand how real the memories were for him, but he did.
“You were just being a vampire and following your instincts,” Angel amended himself.
“Spike is going to kill me,” Xander finally said even though he knew that Spike would never hurt him, at least not unless it was a good kinda hurt or the kind of hurt that led to Xander developing a serious allergy to the sun. Actually, the one Xander worried about killing him was sitting right next to him, but he wasn’t about to say that.
“I think Spike is going to try to forget this ever happened,” Angel said, and Xander knew the statement was true of more than just Spike.
“Not gonna happen.” Xander replied knowingly.
“No.” Angel agreed. Xander waited for something that told him how to handle the situation, but even his new memories couldn’t come up with an effective way of dealing with this particular mess.
“So, what are we going to te…” Xander cut his words short when Angel jumped off the table and started for the doorway.
“Absolutely nothing,” Angel said as he strode toward one of the many exits.
“I can live with that,” Xander agreed as he looked around one last time. The chains still draped down from the ceiling, one single length where Xander had chained Angel hanging lower than the others. Chains and ropes littered the various tables, and the crossbow sat on a low chair near the wooden shards of the chair Angel had crushed and then used as a weapon. He couldn’t see the scaffolding and the ceiling beams with his human eyes, but he looked to where he knew they were, where he’d seen them before and now he could see only grey darkness. And even his human nose could smell the lust, the heavy musky scent of release; the scent must have been overpowering for Angel.
Xander looked around one more time, comparing this empty shell of a building where he had claimed and lost Spike to the deep cavern where he had laid his Nusa’s ashes: the same grey darkness, the same echoing sounds, the same feeling of loss and emptiness. Turning his back, he followed Angel out of the building.
beta'ed by
velvet_virago Oh shit, to hell with the children, he had to have dreamed it. One very long 900 year dream, and when he turned around he was going to find an empty warehouse. Or possibly a warehouse full of vampires who wanted to kill him, and actually that might be of the good.
Xander turned around to see Angel and Spike exactly where he remembered leaving them… or rather right where he remembered the being that had been walking around in his skin leaving them. And oh shit. Xander felt his cock rise at the sight of the two vampires chained together and waiting for him to do something. A pair of brown eyes opened slowly.
“Xander?” Angel asked, and if he didn’t know better, Xander would have sworn he heard concern and uncertainty in that voice which had always seemed to know everything.
“Oh shit.” Xander said after spitting out a pair of plastic vampire teeth. Naked vampires. Sexy naked vampires. He looked everywhere except at the two naked, sexy bodies in front of him. Not looking at that, nope. Not at all.
“Bloody hell,” a voice tiredly swore, and Xander felt a pull toward that voice—he shouldn’t let Spike feel such despair, but then hey, vampire… he was supposed to hate vampires. He *did* hate vampires, and why didn’t that sound convincing? Xander shook his head as though he could shake the new memories out.
“Xander, are you alright?” Xander snorted at that question. Angel was asking if his rapist was alright. Oh shit. He was; he was a rapist. Sure he’d tried with Buffy, but he hadn’t actually hurt her, and what did it say about him that every time he went and got possessed he got all pervy? And again with the so not going there.
“Xander, it was a spell. You need to get the keys for the locks.” Xander looked up, and Angel still lay with his head against Spike’s thigh, and Spike’s hands had closed into tight fists. Xander searched Spike’s expression, but the younger vampire stared off in the opposite direction with a face frozen in a sneer.
“Try talkin’ slower, Peaches, boy’s a bit slow.” Spike finally said even as he looked off into the darkness. Xander opened his mouth, a reprimand automatically coming to his lips, but then he closed it again. He had no right to reprimand Spike. He shouldn’t even be in the same room with Spike without Buffy to hide behind. So why did he care so damn much that Spike would say such a thing?
“Shut up, Spike,” Angel ordered, but even Xander could tell that Angel lost some authority while naked, chained, and lying on top of Spike while smelling of Spike’s come. And that should not be a sexy thought. The sight of a drop of Spike’s come on Angel's chin should not be sexy because he was not gay! Not gay and not attracted to sexy, naked, tied up vampires. Looking at the evidence of his guilt, Xander felt a desire to just run right out of the building, but he had never run when things got hard before and he wasn’t going to start now.
“Keys… right,” he said quietly as he went to the shelf where he had stacked each key carefully. Taking them all he walked toward the table and stopped at the sight of Angel’s still vulnerable ass with Xander’s come trickling down his exposed thighs. Angel’s struggles had shifted the chains on his legs so that he couldn’t stand, and Xander was not noticing how that looked with the thick metal links pressing into pale flesh. His cock was not reacting to the sight of two such powerful creatures bound and helpless because he had defeated them, chained them, and claimed them. And oh god, he was so gay.
Shit, things had been so simple a few minutes ago, but now Xander bent down near the locks. The smell of musk was stronger here, and Xander’s eyes noticed the shimmer of liquid on the floor under the table. Angel’s come, he realized.
He remembered the feeling of Angel writhing under him as Spike growled his pleasure, and Xander snapped open the two locks before he could do something he would regret. Well, something else he would regret because he had plenty of the regret worthy now without running his hands down those strong limbs. He unwound the chains so that Angel could struggle to his feet without wrapping his fingers around Angel’s neck in order to control the vampire’s movements, and why did he feel such a strong desire to do both?
“Oi, watch your hands, ya wanker,” Spike complained from the table as Angel struggled up, and then Xander handed Angel two keys, one to the padlock around his neck and one to the manacles. The sight of Spike’s slender wrists encircled with rope made him want things Xander Lavelle Harris just simply did not want. No wanting here. He just needed to get that message to his quickly hardening cock.
“Xander, wait outside,” Angel ordered, and Xander could hear the sounds of metal grinding on metal as Angel freed himself. Yesterday he would have listened to that order, he would have complained and griped and tattled to Buffy about Angel ordering him around, but he would have listened and obeyed. Now Xander felt his face flush and his temper rise at Angel’s temerity for trying to order him around.
Of course, Xander didn’t even process the meaning of Angel’s words until he heard the table groan. He looked over to see Spike putting every fiber of muscle into breaking the ropes that held him. His arm muscles stood out in sharp curves and his eyes pressed closed so tightly that wrinkles appeared at the corners. In a flash Xander knew what Angel planned; after all, they were vampires and in the world of vampires there were winners and losers, and the losers died. Spike had trusted the wrong person; Spike was helpless, and Xander should want an evil vampire turned to dust. He was a Scoobie, which meant he should say, “Yes, Angel” and wait by the door as Angel did what he always did, clean up the evil that was too much for children’s eyes.
“No,” Xander all but snarled. He was no child.
“Xander,” Angel turned toward him with a low guttural tone of warning.
“Not a chance,” Xander snarled as he stepped forward. Angel still stood naked, and Xander watched with a feral grin as he realized the advantage his own clothed state gave him.
“Fine, I’ll do it with you here.” Angel turned to pick up a shard of wood from the floor and Xander glanced at Spike who lay spread eagled like a sacrificial victim, his eyes closed and his lips pressed into a thin line. Rather than beg or offer to submit or promise to leave town, Spike lay there silent, and Xander couldn’t do it. More importantly, he couldn’t allow Angel to do it.
Angel turned back around with a stake in hand, but Xander had already grabbed a piece of that broken chair as he put himself between Angel and the Spike for the second time.
“Xander, move.” Angel lowered his brow in an expression of determination that should have sent Xander running. Instead Xander gripped his broken wood hard enough that he could feel the sharp edge digging into his palm.
“Not a chance. You want to dust him, you can just cut him free and give him a fighting chance.” Xander spoke in a low, strong voice that he could barely even recognize as his own as he faced down a master vampire.
“Xander,” and again with the dark tones of warning.
“It takes a pretty damn weak vamp to dust someone like this. It’s not like you tied him up; in fact, you’ve been pretty pathetically bad at stopping Spike at all.” Xander snapped back, verbally striking out at Angelus’ weak spot. Angel’s eyes flashed yellow, and then an expression of sad calmness overtook his features.
“Xander, this is not the time.”
“Yes, Angel, it is,” Xander dropped his own voice in challenge. “I’m not going to let you kill him after I tied him up for you.” Xander stepped backwards and started working the ropes around Spike’s hand. For one moment, Xander caught Spike’s eye and the surprise on that face made him momentarily freeze. Spike hadn’t expected to be protected; he had expected Angel to stake him as Xander stood by, and Xander felt his heart tighten in pain. He broke eye contact as he turned his attention back to the knots that Spike had pulled tight and to Angel who stood glowering.
“Yeah, not right ta kill someone who’s all helpless,” Spike finally added snarkily.
Angel snapped, “Shut up, Spike,” at the same time Xander commented, “You’re not helping here.”
“Wanker,” Spike replied, and Xander wasn’t even sure who that was directed toward. The last bit of the knot came free and Xander glanced down as Spike shook his hand to get rid of the rope still dangling from his wrist. Xander reached out and grabbed the trailing ends, and Spike froze, staring at Xander, and Xander’s eyes felt suddenly warm as he saw the open pain.
Before he could say anything, Spike had snatched his hand away with a hiss, and Xander was left with rope burn along the length of his palm. Xander then stepped away from the table as Spike worked the other knots himself. Unwilling to see that pain again, Xander turned his back and concentrated on protecting Spike from Angel who had an expression of disbelief, which looked pretty much like every other expression Angel had except for the mouth that actually hung open.
Xander continued to stare Angel down as he listened to Spike shuffle around behind him. It gave him lots of time to consider just how stupid he was for turning his back to Spike with all the broken wood on the floor, but he wouldn’t even blame Spike if he found a piece of wood suddenly sticking out of his back. He really did have it coming because he understood just how much he had damaged Spike with the forced submission and the promises that Xander was now unable to keep. He understood in the way that only a vampire could understand.
“Bloody loons in this town. Soon as Dru’s alright, you can have your soddin’ Hellmouth back, and I hope it swallows both of you.” Spike snarled his anger, but the pain hadn’t disappeared from his face totally. Xander listened to Spike’s boots echo across the concrete, the steps growing increasingly distant and speeding up as Spike ran for an exit. Which left just one horrifyingly horrible problem. Xander kept looking at Angel, and finally the older vampire sighed as he started walking towards Xander. Xander backed up quickly, but Angel simply stopped near the table to retrieve his clothes.
Angel had finished putting on his pants and was buttoning his shirt when he suddenly looked up.
“Is that my shirt?” Angel asked. Xander almost laughed out loud. Not what he really thought they’d discuss, but as he looked down at the red silk with fancy silver buttons, he realized it was.
“Yeah.”
“How’d… never mind,” Angel said with a tired sigh and Xander moved closer to sit on the edge of the table as Angel knelt down to put on his shoes. When Angel finished, he moved to sit on the table beside Xander, and that wasn’t awkward at all… no desire to flee in horror, Xander mused as he tried to figure out what to say because the silence was getting creepy.
“Um, I’m not really sure what to say here other than this big awkward silence is really just… awkward. Well that, and I am really sorry. Really, really sorry. Completely humiliated, mortified, and sorry.” Xander stared at his shoes.
“Xander,” Angel interrupted. “It’s okay.”
“I don’t know how you could call that alright. That was as far from alright as… oh shit. I ate Larry.”
“You remember?”
“I remember 900 years of torturing and killing and really kinda liking it.” Xander thought back over the centuries of murder and pervy sex and sitting at his Nusa’s feet and battle with the smell of blood heavy in his nose, and he really needed to stop before he made an indecent proposal to his friend’s boyfriend. And oh shit, Angel had vamp smell. Since he knew Angel would have already smelled him, Xander just reached down and adjusted his pants which had grown suddenly tight.
“Oh,” Angel’s toneless answer revealed nothing, and Xander looked over at that stony face. He never had been good at reading human faces, but he now realized that Angel was the one person in the universe who did understand how that felt.
“Sucks, huh?” he asked, and Angel looked over at him in surprise.
“Yeah,” Angel agreed. Xander sat there silently. He knew that he hadn’t actually done the things he remembered, but Angel had. When Angel remembered torture, he was remembering his past and not some spell induced hallucination.
“Does it get… ‘easier’ is really sounding like a bad word to use here, but I don’t know, less vivid? ‘Cause I can do without the Technicolor memory of human organs.”
“Not for me.” Angel said quietly. Xander couldn’t even come up with an answer for that, so he just sat silently next to Angel without even baiting the vampire.
“Are we bonding?” Angel asked after a long silence as they sat in the dark surrounded by the remains of what, in vampire terms, had been a wonderful evening.
“God I hope not,” Xander answered, but without much enthusiasm for his traditional Angel bashing. The world looked so different with nine hundred years of experience whispering new truths in his ear. The evil and soulless Spike needed him, a concept that he was planning on repressing, possibly with large amounts of illegally obtained alcohol. The souled Angel actually had a reason to brood, and he was never going to admit that one out loud. Giles and the Watchers had no clue about what really drove a vampire, and he wasn’t about to explain. If he was lucky, the memories would fade with the magic.
“Would you have killed me?” Angel finally asked.
“Fuck, yeah,” Xander replied quietly. He knew what Angel really needed to know; Angel needed to know who had forced him to submit—it was a vampire thing. “I was Xander childe of Nusa, one seriously bad-ass vamp who thought you were this abomination that someone needed to put down, but just not until after a whole lot of kinky sex.” Xander froze. “And I did not just say that last bit. You imagined it… you must be suffering blood loss.” Angel laughed softly while Xander froze again as he remembered why Angel was suffering blood loss.
“I figured that part out already.” Angel said with amusement.
“And I am so going to hell for that part.” Xander fell silent, and with Angel being his usual chatty self, the sounds of the wind against the corrugated metal roof dominated the night.
“It wasn’t really you, Xander.”
“It feels like it was me.” Xander admitted. He didn’t know why he needed Angel to understand how real the memories were for him, but he did.
“You were just being a vampire and following your instincts,” Angel amended himself.
“Spike is going to kill me,” Xander finally said even though he knew that Spike would never hurt him, at least not unless it was a good kinda hurt or the kind of hurt that led to Xander developing a serious allergy to the sun. Actually, the one Xander worried about killing him was sitting right next to him, but he wasn’t about to say that.
“I think Spike is going to try to forget this ever happened,” Angel said, and Xander knew the statement was true of more than just Spike.
“Not gonna happen.” Xander replied knowingly.
“No.” Angel agreed. Xander waited for something that told him how to handle the situation, but even his new memories couldn’t come up with an effective way of dealing with this particular mess.
“So, what are we going to te…” Xander cut his words short when Angel jumped off the table and started for the doorway.
“Absolutely nothing,” Angel said as he strode toward one of the many exits.
“I can live with that,” Xander agreed as he looked around one last time. The chains still draped down from the ceiling, one single length where Xander had chained Angel hanging lower than the others. Chains and ropes littered the various tables, and the crossbow sat on a low chair near the wooden shards of the chair Angel had crushed and then used as a weapon. He couldn’t see the scaffolding and the ceiling beams with his human eyes, but he looked to where he knew they were, where he’d seen them before and now he could see only grey darkness. And even his human nose could smell the lust, the heavy musky scent of release; the scent must have been overpowering for Angel.
Xander looked around one more time, comparing this empty shell of a building where he had claimed and lost Spike to the deep cavern where he had laid his Nusa’s ashes: the same grey darkness, the same echoing sounds, the same feeling of loss and emptiness. Turning his back, he followed Angel out of the building.
