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Broken Revenge	By : LitGal Category: > Spike(William)/Xander > Spike(William)/Xander Views: 10281 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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As they walked towards the car, Xander found himself walking with a rolling swing, as if he were wearing his hip chains. A few weeks ago that wouldn't have surprised him, but since he and Spike had been hunting, his gait had changed. Instead of the wide rolling gait of the harem boy in heat, he had learned a taut, controlled prowl that announced to prey in predators alike that he was not something that you wanted to mess with in a dark alley.

Now that Xander recognized his slave-boy gait had returned, he stumbled as one leg tried to swing wide and sexy while the other slid forward stealthily. Even though Spike hadn't commented, Xander tried to focus on walking like a predator, not like well-trained prey. His hands unconsciously slipped below his jacket to where the knives would be had he been wearing them.

"We'll find her, pet," Spike announced out of the blue without breaking stride or looking back. Strangely enough, Xander had never doubted it. Of all the things the Xander doubted in his life including himself, his sanity, and even his own moral compass, he never doubted Spike.

"I know, Master," Xander answered.

Reaching the car, Xander slipped into the passenger side of the plain little tan car Spike used to drive to Los Angeles, and he pulled the seatbelt across his lap as he looked out the window. He knew that people could be willfully blind. He�d grown up on a Hellmouth, and despite the fact that the portal wasn't actually active during most of his younger years, it was still a Hellmouth and strange things still happened. But really, the general stupidity on the Hellmouth didn't have anything on LA.

The Xander watched green-skinned demons walk in and out of pools of light under the street lamps, and he wondered what humans thoughts when they came to this part of town. Of course, not many humans actually came to this part of town, but someone had to get lost and end up down here at some point. You'd think they'd be on the phone to 911 or Geraldo Rivera or the Navy or something. Xander had this image of a tourist in a floral shirt having his car break down. He'd probably end up as a midnight snack.
Maybe people just thought this part of LA had an obsession with Halloween all year long, sort of like those little towns whose livelihood depended on being permanently Christmassy. Maybe people just got really good at not seeing what they didn't want to see. Xander sometimes wished that he could relearn that sort of blindness, and go through life without knowing what lurked in the shadows. Of course, not knowing didn't make the shadows any less dangerous, and Xander pushed that thought the back of his mind. Instead he watched in growing confusion out the window as the Hyperion finally appeared at the end of the street.

Spike pulled the car up to the front of the old hotel and Xander was struck with just how badly the hotel needed refurbishing. That is, if somebody didn't just take the much easier route of setting it on fire and starting over. The paint was peeling, boards were rotting, the decorative trim was chipped away, several stones had large cracks, and mold crept up the building from the foundations. All in all, this place needed about a thousand carpenters and handymen working 24 hours a day for a month before it would be actually habitable. So of course, Angel lived there.

"Right then, we need to talk to Angel before we head back to the Hellmouth," Spike announced, and Xander could hear the defensive tones despite the fact that his Master really didn't have to justify or explain his decisions to Xander. Since Xander didn't have a veto vote over the Spike's decision, he simply sat silent. Of course, if he did have the choice he would have vetoed the idea of going to Angel. They had only recently broken the Broody One of showing up at Joyce's house to "check in," and Xander really didn't want to encourage Angel to start doing that again.

"Come on, then," Spike said as he got out of the car, and Xander unfastened the seat belt before opening his own car door and hurrying after his Master. Xander caught up at the front door as Spike found the entrance locked and pounded hard enough that Xander worried Spike would break the door down. Luckily the door swung open before that could happen.

"Angel," Spike said tightly as he pushed by his sire, and Xander followed quickly, keeping his eyes firmly on the back of Master�s neck. He didn't think Angel would shut the door in his face, but those Droopy Harris fears occasionally came back to haunt him.

"Spike?" Angel replied in a dazed voice, and Xander wasn't surprised since most of the time Spike avoided the broody one like the plague. Well, actually more than the plague since Spike couldn't actually get the plague.

"Why the bloody hell is the door locked?" Spike demanded to know as he headed for the tacky round couch in the middle of the lobby. When Spike sprawled across the ugly fabric, Xander was temporarily torn between going to his knees or sitting next to his Master. Spike solved that by reaching out and snagging his hand before pulling Xander to his side. Xander was left half sitting on the couch, half in Spike's lap, and completely happy as his Master's hand kneaded his shoulder.

"We *were* trying to keep the undesirables out," a sharp voice suggested from behind them. Xander jumped a bit at the sound, but Spike's hand around his waist held him in place.

"Weasely," Spike said as a greeting as Wesley came into sight.

"Wesley!" the former watcher snapped back, and Xander barely contained a manly type giggle as Spike looked at the man with a single eyebrow raised and a definite 'you idiot' expression. Wesley obviously recognized the expression because he frowned and crossed his arms over his chest aggressively.

"And what brings you here? I thought you were busy installing yourself as the Master of the Hellmouth." Wesley said snidely, and Xander watched Angel flinch at that. He could just imagine the fights the two of them had over Spike's reign over the Sunnydale Hellmouth.

"Just thought we'd do some visitin' while we're up here on business," Spike said casually.

"Business?" Angel snarled the word and stepped forward aggressively. Xander wasn't sure who would win a fight between these two, but he found himself suddenly terrified of finding out. He closed his hand around the fabric of Spike's t-shirt despite the fact that if it came to a fight he should be getting out of Spike's way, not holding on. As Xander's heart started racing, he found himself fascinated by the fact that he realized he was being totally irrational, but he couldn't seem to stop anyway.

"Oi, you great lummox. Ya got the subtlety of a musk ox, Peaches," Spike snarled at Angel, but one strong hand closed comfortingly around Xander's wrist, and the other rubbed Xander's neck hard enough that Xander was caught between wanting to lose himself in the massage and wanting to hunch up his shoulders to protect the sensitive body part.

"Xander, I'm sorry," Angel said quickly, and Xander looked up in surprise at the sight of Angel backing away with a pained expression on his face.

"Ya should be, ya nit." The fingers on Xander's neck tightened for a second. "Ya alright now?" Spike asked him, and Xander nodded as he felt his heart slow to a more reasonable pace.

"Yes, Master," he finally answered since nodding was rude unless forbidden to speak.

"Right then, I need to talk to Angel in private, don't I. You wait here," Spike ordered.

"Yes, Master."

Xander pulled away from Spike's lap but remained sitting on the couch as Spike stood and gestured towards Angel rudely. Rather than respond to the blatant insult, Angel just rolled his eyes as he started towards the door on the far side of the room. Spike followed.

As Xander watched his Master walk away, he tried to remind himself that he was safe. But as much as it pained him to admit it, without the familiar surroundings of Joyce's home- hearing Joyce rattling around on the first floor, or the familiar sound of Spike cursing softly in the other room- he didn't feel safe. In fact, the way Wesley was watching him in a combination of horror and suspicion made him feel like a bug under a microscope. Even that was better than the way some other people looked on him with pity, Xander thought miserably.

But then again, if Droopy Harris had a chance to see the new Xander Harris, he would've been doing more than staring. Droopy Harris would've been making all sorts of comments about how pathetic a person had to be before they didn't feel safe outside of their own house. Droopy Harris would've rolled his eyes and commented on the intelligence of any one who felt safer in Spike's arms than anywhere else in the world. Xander's self-recriminations were interrupted by Wesley's voice.

"Xander, I haven't had a chance to speak to you much since you've� gotten back." Wesley sounded uncomfortable, so at least Xander wasn't alone in his overall feeling of weirdage. And of course now Xander got the ultimate revenge; Wesley got to sound stupid while Xander just sat and looked at him. In the old days that never would've happened, but Wesley's comment made it sound like Xander been off at Boy Scout Camp and had just gotten home. Xander didn't say anything, since technically he hadn�t been asked a question. With a look of wary concern, Wesley stepped a little closer.

"So, how have you been lately?" Xander dispensed with his polite training altogether as he gave Wesley his best stupid stare. Not the stare that made Xander seem stupid, but the stare that implied that Wesley was stupid, because Wesley actually was- stupid that is. 'How was he'? Xander paused to consider just how he wanted to answer that one.

"Struggling to get through every day without having a panic attack bad enough to make me want to crawl into a corner," Xander finally said.

Wesley's expression went from horror and suspicion to outright mortification. Mortification. Listening definitely had done him some good because in the old days he definitely would not have even thought that word. Of course the fact that it was a Lirowaus word was a bit on the ick side.

"Well, I'm terribly sorry to hear that."

Wesley had taken a step forward, but now he backed up several steps, his hands reaching up and taking his glasses from his face and polishing them in a gesture that Xander had grown to associate with Giles. But maybe the gesture was just common to all English people. Maybe English people had some sort of glasses fetish. Or maybe it was something they learned at the Watcher�s Council, like a secret handshake.

"You know that if there�s anything you need I'd be more than happy to help you. Zelicwa wrote two rather shocking tomes on the demonic slave trade, so I can imagine that you have rather a lot to deal with."

Xander was impressed with Wesley�s grasp of understatement, and again with the comparison to Giles, and wondering if it was an English thing or a Watcher thing. Despite their shared knowledge, Xander found himself completely uninteresting in talking about it with Wesley. In fact, there was only one person he ever wanted to talk about it with, and that was Spike. Xander looked over to the door that kept him from his Master�s side.

"I'm sure they'll be done soon," Wesley offered, and Xander sat on the couch tracing a finger along the edge of a faded stripe. "I must say it's rather disquieting to have you so silent. My memories of you and Ms. Rosenberg involve rather more talking."

Xander could think of any number of responses ranging from the fact that Wesley didn't know him well enough to have an opinion in the first place, all the way up through his memories of Wesley including more cowardice. He said nothing, and sat looking down at his finger, tracing a faded stripe on the sofa fabric.

The silence in the hotel thickened until Xander could make out the faint sound of cars passing on the road outside. He strained his hearing hoping that he would catch some sound of his Master's voice, but the two vampires were talking softly enough that no sound escaped the office. Considering those two tended to yell more often than talk, it was actually a little worrying.

"Would you like something to drink?" Wesley asked eventually. Xander wondered whether the man had finally remembered his hostly duty or whether he had just gotten frustrated at the silence.

"Do you have water?" Xander asked. He wasn't all that thirsty, but the chance to get Wesley out of the room was just too good to pass up. If Wesley didn't stop staring at him, his silent babble was going to turn into audible babble.

"Of course. I'll be right back." Wesley hurried from the room and Xander found himself torn between enjoying the moment of privacy and panicking at the thought that he was totally alone. He could walk out that front door, and no one would stop him. Even more terrifying, someone could walk in the front door and take him. Xander wondered how long it would take Spike to react if someone did push that door open and come running in, sword drawn. In anyone else's life the thought of someone running into the room with a drawn sword would be well... ridiculous. In his life, not so much.

Xander was so caught up in thoughts that someone could come rushing in the door or he could go rushing out the door that when the door actually started pushing in, he had a moment of pure blind white terror. The terror mutated into plain old garden-variety panic as a squeal pierced the air.

"Xander! Oh my god Xander, it's you! I can't believe it's you!" Cordelia rushed into the lobby, arms thrown open and a wide smile on her face. Instinctively, Xander stood up, but he suddenly didn't know what to do. He'd been trained to handle a lot of situations, but an enthusiastic ex-girlfriend with a history of verbally castrating man running at him... that wasn't covered in the training.

"I can't believe Angel didn't tell me that you were coming to visit! Oh God, you don't know how long everyone looked for you. I was so worried. And then everyone else went missing, and all I could think was that everyone I'd known was gone." When Cordelia reached him she closed her arms around his upper body hugging him tightly, and Xander in return let his palms rest on the sides of her waist in a small imitation of a hug. Cordelia Chase was the only woman he knew who could take his kidnapping and reduce it down to the fact that he had worried her. In some ways it was good to know that some things in this world could be replied on to never change.

The door to the office slammed open so hard that the glass window shivered and the wood rebounded off the wall as Spike slammed into the room.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" he demanded, anger roughening his accent.

Xander dropped his hands and physically stepped back, hoping to get away from Cordelia's embrace. Touching wasn't allowed. Touching was never allowed. You didn't let the trainers catch you touching. Not unless� Xander struggled to push down the terror that came bubbling into his throat as the memory threatened to surface.

Xander recognized his own irrational thoughts; he knew that he was sliding off into a void, but he was suddenly helpless against the memories that rose like dark floodwaters, threatening to tear apart everything in their path. He stepped back again but Cordelia simply stepped with him her arms trapping him, condemning him as she glared at Spike. As long as her arms were around him, he was breaking the rules. You didn't touch. You never touched.

Xander started breathing heavily and he tried to remind himself that this was Cordelia, this was Spike, this was Angel. They didn't care. And yet the panic continued to rise until the rushing darkness threatened to breach his defenses and the memories pushed in on him.

How many lessons had they expected them to learn? How many? He wasn't the smart one, he wasn't good at remembering things. They couldn't expect him to remember all the rules. And yet they did. There were rules and rules and rules. And punishments and rules and torture and rules. Xander shivered as he remembered the cold steel links brushing against his back. Don't touch.

Xander blinked and as the world swam into focus he realized Cordelia was sitting on the ground staring at him in horror. Spike was standing behind him, strong arms curled possessively around his waist. That was allowed; Spike was allowed. Master was allowed to touch. Xander turned in his Master's arms and buried his face in the crook of Spike's neck as he tried to catch his breath.

"S'all right, you're fine." Spike�s voice crooned in just the same way he had once crooned to Dru, and Xander wondered who would win the loon contest now. He was pretty sure he could give the crazy seer a run for her money at this point. Lucky for him Spike seemed to be into crazy, because those strong arms cradled him to his chest until Xander could breathe again.

Xander glanced up at Wesley's open-mouthed horror and Cordelia's shock and Angel's... well, he couldn't actually tell what Angel was feeling, not that this was anything new. Okay, he couldn't hide in Spike's arms forever. Not even if he wanted to. Xander took a deep breath and stepped back. Xander saw nothing but loving concern in Spike�s eyes as he opened his arms, allowing Xander to step out of his embrace.

As Angel held out a hand to help Cordelia from the floor, Xander opened his mouth, but then he couldn't quite figure out what to say, especially since he had no idea what happened. Well yeah, he had a pretty good idea since Spike would have sent her across the room with one shove and she was only on the floor in front of him. That gave him a small hint about who had done the pushing. He wasn't a complete moron, just a half moron.

"Cordelia, I..." Xander started, but then he lost his words.

"Cordelia didn't mean to startle you," Angel said carefully when Xander's voice had failed him. Behind him Spike muttered a few choice words on Cordelia's parentage, and Angel gave his childe a quick glare. "And neither did Spike," Angel added in a darker tone.

"I'm sorry," Xander blurted out quickly.

"No, I'm sorry," Cordelia added. "You're just looking so good with the trim fighting form and the muscles and the gorgeous curls that you're obviously using conditioner on, not to mention the vast improvement on your wardrobe... I mean, I just forgot," she trailed off plaintively.

Cordelia's comments left Xander speechless, not in the slave-without-permission-to-speak type speechless, but in the oh-my-god-how-are-you-supposed-to-handle-a-compliment-from-Cordelia-Chase type speechless. He'd just gotten more compliments from her in one sentence than he had in the entire time they were dating. Of course the entire time they were dating she never complimented him once, so that wasn't actually hard. Xander looked over to Spike since he had no idea how to handle anything he�d just heard.

"Bloody right. He's looking right shaggable, isn't he?" agreed Spike with a cheerful leer. Okay, now that wasn�t exactly what Xander had expected, not that he had any idea what to expect. He found himself blushing a little.

"Ew. Okay you didn't have to get that graphic," Cordelia complained with a pinched expression on her face.

"Oi, you know you're thinkin' about it, but you already lost your chance at the boy." Now the leer changed into something a little more smug.

"Oh please," Cordelia sniffed, and Xander realized that her dismissal didn't hurt at all. He wondered whether that was because he had Spike now or because she had just called him cute... at least it sounded like she called him cute. "Besides," Cordelia continued as she narrowed her eyes, "as I remember you had a little something to do with that."

"Worked out soddin' well for me, didn't it?" The Xander watched the two of them banter back and forth, and it suddenly occurred to him that they liked each other. Well, not like each other as in *liked* each other, because that would just be wrong and ew, but they liked each other in a cat liking a scratching post kind of way.

Xander wasn't entirely sure that Angel understood that because the older vampire had moved to stand between Spike and Cordelia as though he was going to have to physically defend Cordelia's honor. Xander leaned back a little and Spike's hand found the small of his back where it rested comfortably.

"William, I think we have more important business to deal with here."

"Oi, just havin' a little fun with the cheerleader." And again with the grin, this time with a hint of tongue behind his teeth.

"In your dreams, Bleach Boy. You're never going to have any fun with me," Cordelia snapped. Spike's only reply was one of his knowing laughs that always managed to make Xander's cock twitch with need.

"Wesley, pack the weapons," Angel changed the subject. "Try to stick with the classics: stakes and swords."

Xander turned and saw the ex-watcher hovering at the edge of the group.

"What are we going after?" Wesley asked as he started toward a large cabinet at the far side of the lobby.

"Vamps," Angel answered shortly, and then before anyone could say anything else, the great Broody One turned and disappeared back into the office, closing the door behind him loudly enough to make it clear that he didn't want company.

"Right then, we're off," Spike announced brusquely. Xander offered Cordelia a small smile and Wesley absolutely nothing as he followed Spike out of the Hyperion towards the waiting car.

The entire ride back to Sunnydale, Xander kept expecting the Inquisition to start. Questions about what had triggered the flashback or whether he was okay after the flashback, but Spike remained unusually silent. Or a least as silent as he could be considering that he was singing along at the top of his voice with what Xander considered to be the world's worst music. It took all of Leshar's training for Xander to not make a comment about the wails and random screeches that were currently pounding out of the car's radio.

Eventually Xander couldn't take the lack of talkage any more, either that or he was going to go utterly deaf from Spike's music.

"Master?" Xander spoke barely above a whisper, but Spike immediately reached out and flipped the radio off.

"Yeah, pet?"

"Is Angel coming to Sunnydale?" Xander bit his tongue, physically bit it. He bit it hard enough to make it hurt, which, when he thought about it, wasn't the brightest thing in the world, but every fiber of his being was screaming at him about training and not questioning his Master.

"Yeah," Spike answered as he reached over and let his hand rub the inside of Xander's thigh. The answer was just friendly enough the Xander could tell himself that he wasn't in trouble, but it was just short enough to let Xander know his Master wasn't planning on saying any more. Xander would just have to wait and see.
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Broken Revenge