Part One - Xander
You know, sometimes I wonder what it would be like to not be here. I mean, well I don’t mean that in the bad “I don’t want to be in this world anymore way”, I just mean not here, sitting at a table in the back of the Magic Box at 9:30 on a Friday night, trying to remember the proper declensions for the variant of Latin I’m reading in this book. And, while I’m doing this wondering thing, I wonder just when I learned more than one form of Latin. Seriously, when did that happen? You think I would have noticed something like that.
It’s not that I mind being here, not really, it’s kind of nice actually. For once there’s no imminent apocalypse, no huge prophecy about to unfold. Just us, sitting around the table, catching up on some research, trying to get ahead of the curve for once. It’s nice, you know, the pizza boxes scattered about, the sound of Buffy and Willow and Giles all trying to speak at once, the smell of Spike’s cigarettes mingling with the scent of the food. Nice to be here, sitting with my friends and spending what for us passes as a normal, fun Friday night.
And that’s what I’m wondering about. I don’t think about it much, how odd our lives truly are. In fact, I almost never think about it. But sometimes something happens, some little thing and I realize just how far removed my life is from your average 24 year old single guy’s. Tonight’s one of those nights.
It’s not Rob’s fault that he started me wondering these things. All he did is grab my arm and ask “Hey, Harris, whatcha doing tonight, gotta hot date?” He smirked a little, laughing and waving at our fellow workers as we all took off for the weekend.
“Not really, just hanging out with my friends, maybe watch some movies, stuff like that.” I slung my toolbelt into my truck. “Nothing special.” I was looking forward to tonight quite a bit, actually. Willow called during lunch and told me all about how Giles felt we didn’t need to patrol tonight since we hadn’t seen a vamp in two nights and there were no prophecies on the radar.
”It’ll be great, just all of us hanging out, Tara and I are going to make brownies and Buffy’s going to grab the pizza and Spike said he’d get the drinks. Can you stop and pick up some ice cream, just plain vanilla.” I smiled, remembering the excited sound. It had been quite awhile since we just hung out like regular people.
“Man, that sounds boring. C’mon, Harris, come and spend some time with the guys, I’m sure it’ll be more exciting than your usual weekends.” Rob grinned at me and I had to stifle a smirk, picturing the shock on his face if he knew just how exciting my weekends usually were.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll pass this time.” He nodded and left, jumping into his truck and taking off.
It’s such a little thing, stupid really, but the whole exchange really bothers me tonight. I wouldn’t trade my friends for anything, I’m proud of us, proud of what we do. But sometimes I wonder, what’s it like? I mean by all rights I should be out there in the bars, trying to pick up some girl with some really stupid line, laughing and drinking with my friends. Or maybe at a movie, sitting there in the dark with no worries as to who might be creeping up behind me. Or maybe out to dinner, somewhere elegant and nice. Or maybe bowling. Not sitting here surrounded by piles of dusty old tomes worrying out the meaning of cryptic incantations.
I sigh and stretch, pushing away from the table to walk around a little, carefully marking my place with the most recent postcard from Anya. Reykjavik of all places. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by now, she set out to see the world and see it she’s determined to do. We have a huge collection of postcards, over 250, the accumulation of the last two years. It doesn’t hurt to see them anymore, it stopped hurting a few months after she left, actually. I finally realized that we could never really make something romantic work between us. No matter how much we loved one another, I still was a walking, talking, breathing reminder of what she lost. No, she needs some normal guy, someone who knows nothing about vengeance demons and Hellmouths.
Leaning against the counter, I shake my head. And now I’m back to this. This odd longing to be normal. Like such a thing exists. Seriously, if there’s one thing that life on the Hellmouth has taught me, other than how to get blood out of absolutely ANYTHING, is that there is no such thing as normal.
Buffy’s laugh ripples through the air and I look up, grinning as Tara brushes flecks of ice cream off her face. That mischievous smile of hers we see too rarely is out right now and she flicks her spoon right back, spraying Buffy with little white specks. A moment of outrage and then the fight is in full force, Buffy shrieking and chasing Tara into the back, Willow right on her heels. Gods, it’s great to see them like this, relaxed and free. Buffy’s finally come to terms with being the Slayer, I think. Maybe graduating from college did that for her. That was a cool day, even Spike managed to make it, the cloud cover thick enough that he didn’t even need to hide in the trees. Everyone else was so angry that it was rainy and cloudy. We were thrilled. Yeah, Buffy’s doing great, she’s finally over Angel, thank god. Steve’s good for her that way. Man, the look on her face the first time he came into the Magic Box. Talk about lust at first sight. Who would have figured Buffy was a sucker for gangly redheads with bright green eyes. She told me later that it was eyes that got her, the kindness and intelligence there. And, c’mon, it’s obvious what he saw when he looked at her. I might be long over my mad crush on her but I still think she’s one of the most beautiful women in the world. They were so funny, both suddenly stuttering and shy, it was like watching two twelve year olds. But somehow they got it together and now they’ve been together for a year and a half and still going strong. Too bad he travels so much, I know it’s hard on her. She told me once that she didn’t really mind because, “Xander, he has to, it’s his job. And he loves it. And he brings me back the nicest presents. And he’s always so happy to see me.” Where was he now, Peru, looking for some relics, I think. Man, who knew being an assistant curator was so cool.
I can just make out Giles’s sigh as he looks up from where he’s flipping through some books while simultaneously playing chess with Spike. He’s trying to look mad, but it’s not working. He loves this, I think, when we revert back to being his unruly charges for a little while. It must be hard on him, watching us grow up. At least none of us have moved away. I don’t think we can, we’ve been together so long now the thought of life without the others around is inconceivable. He looks good too, being a shopkeeper suits him. And he’s sure made a success of this. The Magic Box is the most popular and respected magic supply store on the West Coast. To say nothing of the Internet business. I snort a little as I grab another Coke from the next to the cash register. To think that Giles owes his quite healthy bank account to Willow and her infernal machines is too funny for words.
I catch a sudden glimpse of red as Willow sprints back out, swiping the rest of the ice cream and a huge handful of napkins. “Wills, help” Tara’s voice spills from the back and it so cool that for once those words are said in laughter and not fear. “Coming, baby, I’ll protect your honor.” She flashes me a grin then sprints into the back. Oh man, Buffy’s going to regret this. I hope those aren’t new shoes. Willow and Tara. It seems like they’ve always been together, like there never was a time there was one without the other. They are so good for one another, they compliment each other so well, it’s kinda frightening. Willow makes Tara bold, well bolder at least. And Tara keeps Willow grounded. They’re so funny, they seem so flighty. Of course, I wouldn’t want to be on the other end of one of their spells. Or the other end of one of Tara’s calls if I were one of their clients and was late in paying. We all knew Willow was little miss computer genius. But when she and Tara teamed up and started their own software company, well, that’s when this whole other side of Tara came out. Who knew she was Steve Jobs nasty when it came to business, Bill Gates ferocious in marking out their territory. We all chipped in some cash to help them start, and I know Spike did it for the same reason I did. When they finally get around to doing it full time, we are going to be immensely rich. It’ll be like buying Microsoft at $1 a share.
“Xander, are you alright, mate?” I start a little as Spike’s voice drifts over to me. His head is down, he’s concentrating on his next move, fingers twitching a little as he examines the board. I can see the black line of his roots and I grin.
“I’m fine, I’m just standing here thinking that someone needs to see their stylist.” I laugh as he flips me off, never turning his eyes from the board. I can practically feel the smug grin from where I’m standing as he makes his move.
“Checkmate. Pay up.” Spike’s hand is out and Giles slaps the bill down. “Thanks, Rupert. I’ll be happy to take your money anytime.” Then off to Giles’s office, coming back with a glass of something, Scotch I think, for them both. He leans back in his chair, puts his feet up on the table and picks up his book. Shakespeare. Of course. He told me last night that he was determined to memorize all the sonnets. And I believe him.
I settle back at the table, yawning a little, peaceful and content. This is so nice, being here and contemplating my friends. All my friends. Including the bleached blond vampire sitting at the end of the table memorizing Shakespeare after beating a Watcher at chess and besting the Slayer in “I can eat more pizza than you before turning green”. Yet another thing to marvel at on this calm night. I truly do count Spike as my friend. We all do. Who knows when that happened, when he became a true part of us. The memories of when he was our archenemy are fuzzy now, the edges sepia toned like something from another time. He’s been with us, fighting alongside us for so long now it seems impossible that it was ever another way. It should be strange, but it’s not. Spike was the Big Bad. Spike is the Big Bad. Just in a different way. Don’t get me wrong, he’s still the most dangerous creature I’ve ever met. Even sitting there quiet, lost in the words, you can still see his strength lying coiled right beneath his skin. He’s so elegant when he fights, all snarling, spinning grace. Strong and brave and true. Loyal to a fault. And it’s us he’s loyal to. He’d die for any of us and any of us for him. Strange indeed to imagine it any other way.
I know when I realized that I fully trusted him. It was a stupid thing, really, I mean an amazingly stupid thing. He let Dawn pick the color to paint his bedroom. Yup, that’s what did it for me, the moment when I realized that Spike wasn’t one of them, he was one of us. He quietly moved out of the crypt when Dawn started her junior year of high school and into a small house that he bought a few blocks from her school. Bought. That should really have been our first clue. He didn’t have the owners killed and then take over their belongings. No, he bought this with his own money. That was another shock, realizing that Spike had money. He wasn’t magnificently rich, but he was comfortable. I finally got Angel to confess one night that Spike always had a head for business and that during their Scourge days Spike made sure to put a healthy portion of their takings aside. Now Spike runs a small consulting business from his home. It’s so bizarre, listening to Spike talk to his clients the times they call when I'm over hanging out. It’s so normal. So sane. And when I watched as he let Dawn pick out the new color for his bedroom, standing there and laughing with her at her more outrageous suggestions, I realized that at some point he turned a corner and decided to try to tame the demon inside him. I’m still awed when I think of the strength that takes, to try to live again when all your instincts call for death. But I think he needs it. I think he missed this, being around people, being around friends.
I open my book again and try to concentrate on the page, but I can’t. I’m caught in this almost trance, storing away every moment of this night, memorizing it for future reference. It’s been a long time since things were so peaceful here. It may be a long time before they are again. Right now I just want to savor the moment. There’s squealing still coming from the back, Giles and Spike look so adult sitting there drinking Scotch and reading and it’s almost too much. I might wonder what it would be like to be normal, but I know that it could never be as good as this. I shake my head. Man, I need to snap out of this.
“Hey Spike, what are you doing tomorrow?” I toss the book aside and reach for another. Oh good this one’s in French. I love French, love the way the words sound as I speak them in my mind.
“Nothing really, I don’t think I have any plans.” And in the most surreal touch of the night he dips a hand into a pocket of the duster, the one constant in the flux of his identity. He pulls out his Palm and checks. “Conference call at 10:00 with those wankers in Seattle. I mean, seriously, if they want to keep paying me and ignoring my advice who am I tell them otherwise.” The familiar smirk plays on his lips. “Besides if I told them to fire me they would just ignore my advice.” Giles snorts at that and I feel an answering grin spread across my face. “Other than that, I’m free, why, you feel like doing something?”
“Yeah, Buffy, Willow and Tara are going shopping.” A shudder runs through all of us at those words. You really don’t want to get in the way of the three of them shopping. “Anyway, I do not want to get sucked into carrying the bags again. What say we go to see the new Jackie Chan and then grab dinner?”
“Sounds good to me. Meet at your place or mine? I don’t suppose you want to come, Rupert?” Spike’s eyes dance as he turns to Giles. Oh yeah, Giles at a Jackie Chan movie. That’s almost performance art.
“Heavens no, besides, well I, I,” Giles begins to blush furiously and I lean forward as Spike slowly lifts an eyebrow. I have to get him to teach me to do that.
“You, you what, have a skirt coming over?” Spike asks, head tilted to one side. Giles just takes a swallow from his glass as a flush spreads up his neck.
“You do, don’t you. Way to go, Giles. Anybody we know?” This is great, Giles really deserves someone. Well, so do I but let’s not think about that right now.
“No. She came into the store the other day looking for a spell book and we began talking, and I would appreciate you keeping this to yourselves. You can only imagine what they,” Giles waves a hand towards the back where we can now hear the low rise and fall of conversation, “would say.”
“Got it.” Spike states and I nod in agreement. “We blokes have to stick together. Your secret’s safe with us.”
”Absolutely.” I grab the paper from the center of the table, flipping to the movie listings. “The seven o’clock sound good for you, grab something after?”
“Sounds great. You want to drive or me.” Spike’s got his head buried in the book again and I smile at the muffled words.
“You drive, I’m on the way there anyway. How about picking me up at six?” He just nods, forehead creased in concentration again. But I know he heard me and I know he’ll be there at six.
I lean back myself, happiness spreading through me. It’s been such a great night, I don’t really want it to end. And tomorrow should be fun too, I always have such a great time with Spike. He’s really easy to be with, once you get used to that bizarre sense of humor of his. I’m sure he’ll come up after dinner and we’ll probably just stay up talking all night again. I better make sure I have some blood on hand for when he spends the night in the spare room. Man, I’m really looking forward to this, he’s the only one I know who appreciates Jackie Chan as much as I do. And I know he’s going to try to stop at the bookstore on the way back too, he’s such a geek. Just wait until he finds out that I finished reading House of Leaves last night. He was right, it is remarkable. I can’t wait to discuss it with him, I know I found it exhilarating to be challenged like that. And there’s another wonder on this night of wonders. I’m looking forward to sitting down and having an in-depth discussion of a book. Me, Mr. C- and just barely made it through high school can’t wait to talk about a book. Well, I was right, people really do change. Yeah, tomorrow’s going to be a good night, too.
I can’t believe how excited I am about this. I mean, it’s not like Spike and I haven’t done the dinner and a movie thing before. In fact, we usually do it a couple times a month. But still, I’m already counting the minutes. Just when did I start looking forward to seeing Spike this much? I have no idea. All I know is that I do.
The girls come tumbling back out and the spell is suddenly broken. I get caught up in the conversation again and the hours fly past. The next thing I know I’m waving goodbye as we all pull away. I make it home in record time, the streets quiet at 2:00 a.m. But it’s a normal quiet, not a preternatural quiet, not the quiet of danger ready to pounce, no just the normal peace of these hours before dawn, that’s so rare around here. I yawn as I stagger through the door, still feeling that strange sense of peace. It was such a good night. I take a quick shower and then head for bed, glancing at the clock. 2:30 now. In a little while I’ll be spending the evening with Spike. I grin as that strange sense of warmth creeps over me again. I’m not sure what’s making me feel this way, but I know one thing. I like it.
Ah, Rupert, Rupert, Rupert, do you think I don’t see that knight you have laying in wait there? Please, I used that sequence on you last week. It’s rather amusing, watching you try to catch me in my own traps. But not this time. I wonder if you even notice that I already have you. Really, I know it’s unfair, I suppose that I should have mentioned at some point that I’m a grandmaster in all but official certification. And I should have that by the end of the year. Just a little something for myself. And it’s not as if I win every time, nor is it like I throw games. He’s very good, is our Rupert, I wonder why he’s never pursued this further. Well, I suppose it would be difficult for him to find the time to compete, what with saving the world and running the store and whatnot. But still, it would be nice to see him in competition. That mind of his has been molded into a perfect strategic machine both by nature and training. The perfect mind for chess. Me, well, I just view it as a different form of combat. And I’ve always loved combat.
And, Slayer, do you really think that our darling Tara is just going to take that? No, I didn’t think so. Good for you, pet, go get her. And there goes Red, just one step behind. Maybe I should just suggest that we suspend this game for a bit and go make sure they aren’t harming one another. Yes, just a bit of concern that. Has nothing to do with wanting to watch those lovely ladies chasing one another about. With ice cream no less. Yes, perhaps we should go back and watch, just for safety’s sake, mind you. Head down, mate, concentrate on the board. You can end this now or you can go another ten moves or so. I suppose I should play this out a little further, I’m going up against that Stepanovich bloke next week and I really do need to work on my endgame. But Giles will play this back in his mind later on and he’ll realize I was toying with him. And it’s so boring listening to the idle threats to stake me.
The sudden noise of running feet startles me and I look up, automatically tensing, searching for the threat. It’s only Red come back for the ice cream and some napkins, flashing that wonderful grin at Xander. Then back once more into the fray. I can hear them laughing and giggling like a pack of schoolgirls. A smile creases my face at the happy sounds. It’s nice to be here like this, just together and enjoying one another’s presence, all of us together here. All except the niblet that is.
My fingers start to twitch as I barely refrain from reaching for my phone. A surreptitious glance at my watch shows it’s only 10:00 p.m. and she’ll kill me for interrupting her date. Still, perhaps I should give her a quick call, just to check up, nothing too serious, just a few seconds to let her know that if she’s not having a good time I can always come and pick her up. Let’s see, where did she say they were going? Out for dinner, that poncy expensive French place, then to a play. Nice and lovely and romantic. Perfect little seduction setup. I battle back the growl that comes to my throat, just barely restraining letting my fangs slip. Damn it, I should have known this was coming, it’s their seventh date. And from what I’ve picked up from listening to her idiotic friends babble on and on, it’s more than time for them to, well, to, I’m not even going to complete that thought.
I wonder if anyone else knows that she came to me the night after her first time. I knew buying that house was a good idea, I knew it was worth it as soon as she and her schoolmates started stopping over right after school every day. That’s why I bought it after all, to provide her somewhere else safe that she could be when being the Slayer’s little sister became too much. I know Joyce would be horrified to find out how insecure that makes Dawn sometimes, how convinced she is that she’s not as worthy. And it’s not like I’m trying to take the place of her father, Rupert does a good enough job of that. I just wanted her to know that I would always be there for her. And keep an eye on who her friends were. Not that she would ever take up with the wrong sort, but it can be so easy for someone dangerous to get a hold of an innocent like her. Gods, that morning was so difficult though. When she came slinking into the kitchen the morning after the prom, after the prom, I ask you, how cliché is that, I could smell him all over her. I could smell him and faintly smell her and faintly smell blood. It was all I could do to simply sit there and listen to her tell me all about it, bless all that’s unholy that she left out the explicit details, but hearing her say how much it meant and how safe he made her feel, I managed to refrain from locking her in the basement never to let her out again. No matter how much I wanted to. And then when they broke up right before he left for college and I held her as she wept, well, it’s a good thing the bloody chip still works. Otherwise, his blood would have dripped from my hands.
Not that it was all that easy to convince Buffy and Xander not to kill the bloke. I still want to know why I had to be the voice of reason, wasn’t right. And it’s not like he was cruel about it, it was simply that Dawn was staying here, and he was off to school out east. They made the decision together, after all. It was a perfectly sensible, adult decision and I was so proud of her for making it. But that was so hard to remember when she started crying.
And now she’s met Trevor. I almost felt sorry for him when she dragged him in here the other day to meet all of us. She knows the rules, after one month or four dates she has to bring the lad back to meet Joyce. After six dates or six weeks she has to bring the bloke to meet the rest of us. I wonder sometimes if those poor fools think it’s easier without having a father to face. Right. Easier. Instead of a father they have to face the lot of us. Buffy has the protective older sister angle, Willow and Tara flank that with the smothering aunts routine, Giles steps in as the father and then there’s Xander and I, bringing up the rear with our big brother act. Not that it’s really an act for either of us, I think. I know damn well that Xander would die for her, that he views her as his own flesh. It’s comforting, knowing that Xander will always be there for her, always ready to protect her if I can’t. Or even if I can.
And speaking of Xander, what’s gotten into him tonight? He’s being so quiet, that’s not like him at all. Normally he would have taken off into the back, joining right in with the girls. But no, he’s just been idly flipping through books and wandering about. He looks a little distracted, a little sad. I hope it’s not that bloody postcard from Anya. Hells, I thought he was over her years ago. I should hope that he is, anyone who would just leave him like that doesn’t deserve to have him still pining after her. I know he says it doesn’t hurt any more, but I’m sure that there’s still some kind of twinge. Stupid chit, leaving him here like that. Just proves she never deserved him. He seems so melancholy and that’s not like him at all. He was perfectly fine when he was over for dinner last night and from what he was telling us about his day earlier, work went well. Maybe it isn’t so much missing Anya as it is missing having someone. It’s been, what, six months or so since he broke up with that Stacey girl. And she was definitely a girl. Mind, I would have shagged her rotten myself, nice looking bit of flesh. But there was nothing upstairs. And, bless him, he needs a smart woman. Someone who can match his wit and his lust for life. It’s such a relief now that he’s slowly beginning to realize how bright he is. It’s amazing what getting promoted to head of the crew has done for him. He’s so different from when I first arrived here, he doesn’t try to hide behind humor and he definitely doesn’t think he’s not worthy of respect. Gods, it’s been remarkable watching him grow up. He seemed so happy last night, I wonder what could have happened. I can’t stand it when he’s sad. It’s just not right.
“Xander, are you alright, mate?” Keep it calm, nice even tone. I don’t really care what his answer is, I’ll be able to tell just by the tone of his voice. He can’t lie to me, I know him too well now.
“I’m fine, I’m just standing here thinking that someone needs to see their stylist.” Ha, bloody, ha. I flip him off on general principle, grinning in relief. He’s fine, he’s just being quiet tonight. Well, as long as he isn’t going to start brooding, that’s fine. I think I’ll just wrap this up though, can’t hurt to keep a closer eye on him. It’s so nice being here with everyone without having to worry about imminent death that I don’t want anything to shatter the mood. We all need this, need the peace and quiet and stillness. Especially Xander. He works the hardest of all of us, after all. It’s good that he has one night of peace.
“Checkmate. Pay up.” I move my bishop into position as Giles muffles a curse and slaps down my winnings. Never saw that coming now did you? “Thanks, Rupert, I’ll be happy to take your money anytime.” I push back from the board and head for the office. Since we aren’t patrolling tonight there’s no harm in a glass of the good stuff. I pour out two fingers of Scotch for each of us and head back out. I settle into my chair and get comfortable, feet propped up on the table and book in my lap. If I hold it just so I can watch Xander without him realizing it. He looks so content now, it’s really nice to see. It’s been hard on him this last year, working such long hours and still fighting with us. I wish he would take my advice and only come out a few days a week or when we call and really need him. But he wouldn’t do that, would he? Not our Xander. He grabs another book and I turn back to the Bard. I feel like I’m drowning in the words as I read, trying to imprint them in my mind. I don’t know why I have this sudden compulsion to memorize the sonnets. I just do.
“Hey, Spike, what are you doing tomorrow?” The sound of his voice pulls me out of my trance and I smile slightly. So he wants to do something. Good, I wasn’t sure whether or not I should ask, we have been spending a lot of time together lately.
“Nothing really, I don’t think I have any plans.” Better check my schedule though, it wouldn’t do to have to cancel at the last minute. I pull out my Palm and bring up tomorrow’s appointments. Oh bloody hell, those wankers in Seattle. I really really can’t stand them. “Conference call at 10:00 with those wankers in Seattle. I mean, seriously, if they want to keep paying me and ignoring my advice who am I tell them otherwise.” I can’t help smirking a little, maybe tomorrow I’ll recommend they fire me. Not that they would even if I asked, they like having someone else to blame for their idiotic choices. “Besides if I told them to fire me they would just ignore my advice.” I hear Giles snort and I smirk a little more. He would appreciate the irony of that. “Other than that, I’m free, why, you feel like doing something?”
“Yeah, Buffy and Willow and Tara are going shopping.” Oh dear Lord, not that. No wonder he wants to make plans, if we don’t have any it’ll be another interminable day carrying package after package after package. “Anyway, I do not want to get sucked into carrying the bags again. What say we go to see the new Jackie Chan and then grab dinner?”
“Sounds good to me. Meet at your place or mine? I don’t suppose you want to come, Rupert?” I can’t resist asking, I can feel my eyes dancing with mischief. I would actually pay good money to see that. Rupert Giles at a Jackie Chan movie. He would probably look for a plot.
“Heavens no, besides, well I, I,” I can feel the heat suddenly flush Rupert’s face. Well, now this is interesting, just what could make the unflappable Watcher blush like that. I run through the options in my mind and then settle on the obvious one. Well, well, indeed.
“You, you what, have a skirt coming over?” I tilt my head to the side, the better to take in the view. Oh yes, that’s what it is alright. Good on you, Rupert. It’s about time you had a bit of the old slap and tickle. About time for me as well, but let’s not think about that right now.
I can hear the grin in Xander’s voice as he speaks up. “You do, don’t you. Way to go Giles. Anybody we know?” Xander’s just as pleased as I am. Rupert works far too hard as well and he needs someone in his life. Someone other than us, that is. As wonderful company as we are, I have a feeling he could use some adult company. Some very adult company. The heat is pouring off his body now. It’s quite amusing. Men. We never do grow up.
“No. She came into the store the other day looking for a spell book and we began talking, and I would appreciate you keeping this to yourselves. You can only imagine what they would say.” The vague wave towards the back makes clear who he means.
“Got it. We blokes have to stick together. Your secret’s safe with us.” I nod firmly, yes, his secret is definitely safe with us. Dear heavens if the womenfolk find out, he’ll never hear the end of it. They’ll want details and will give advice and won’t leave him alone. And that’s not what he needs. They mean well, but when they get all enthusiastic about something it can feel like you’re being pecked to death by a flock of ducks. Very perky ducks at that. And Rupert, who knew you had it in you to just pick up a lass like that. My, my, I must be a having a good influence on you.
“Absolutely,” Xander agrees as he reaches for the paper. “The seven o’clock sound good for you, grab something after?
“Sounds great. You want to drive or me.” I lower my head back down, feeling a sudden rush of something, I’m not sure what. All I know is that I really, really want to drive. That way I can make sure we stop at the bookstore. And it’ll give me an excuse for coming up for a drink afterwards.
“You drive, I’m on the way there anyway. How about picking me up at six?” I nod, frowning a little as the thought turns itself in my mind. Why would I need an excuse to go up for a drink when I drop Xander off, I’ve never needed one before. And why am I looking forward to going out tomorrow so much? It isn’t like we haven’t seen each other for hells sake. I mean, he was just for over for dinner last night and we went to the movies the weekend before that. And the weekend before that. But, this, this feels different somehow. Well, I’ll think about this later. Right now the girls are back and the quiet part of the night is over.
I stagger into the house, yawning hugely as I do so. I make sure that my notes for the meeting are in their proper place on the desk, then set the alarm for 8:00, I need to review my recommendations before the meeting. That and have time for a nice long swearing streak before they call. I know I’m going to be in a vile mood by the time I’m through. Oh well, at least I’ll see Xander afterwards. That thought cheers me immediately and I tumble onto the bed, pulling the comforter to my chin. No matter how annoying those idiots may be, I’ll be going out with Xander tomorrow. And that means everything will be alright.
6:07
He’s late. Seven minutes late. He’s never late. I mean, never ever late. He’s always on time. But he’s not, he’s late.
I wonder if I can actually stare a hole through the glass in my window. He should be right there, pulling into that spot right in front of the building where it’s just three steps up and into the lobby. He knows the code for the door, he’s used it enough times. And we figured out like two days after I moved in here that he’s not exposed to the sun enough for it to hurt if he parks in any of the first three spots. And all the spots are open. He’s should be pounding up the steps right now. But he’s not. He’s late. And he’s never late.
But tonight he’s late. I can feel my hand going numb from gripping the phone so hard. I desperately want to call, but what if he’s trying to get through? No, I’ll just wait. I’m being completely ridiculous. I know. I KNOW. But he’s late.
6:08
I’m not too sure this frantic pacing is really all that good for me. I can feel my heart racing and the sick clench in my stomach. Fuck. I knew this was going to happen. Last night was too perfect, too fine. I knew the universe would come back to bite us on the ass. Something’s wrong, I’m positive. Fuck. What was I thinking, asking him to pick me up? The sun’s not down yet, I mean it’s almost down, but not quite, sunset’s not until 6:32 and I wasn’t even thinking about that when I told him to pick me up. What the hell kind of friend am I? He just got the new BMW last week and what if the tinting wasn’t enough? We should never have let Dawn talk him out of the old one, at least we knew that was fine to drive in the day. Hell, he should have kept the DeSoto, that was always fine. But no, no I had to be a selfish asshole and have him pick me up and now he’s a pile of ash on the front seat of his car all because. . .
Stop. Deep breath. Another one. Another one. “You have to calm down, Xander, you have to stop this.” I can hear Spike’s voice in my ear as the panic attack starts to build. Stop. Breathe. Center myself. Intellectually, I know that Spike’s probably just running late because he more likely than not had a terrible day dealing with those assholes in Seattle who never listen to him. I don’t know why he doesn’t just terminate the contract, he really can’t stand them. Deep breaths. My vision’s getting a little black on the edges and I have to grab onto the window frame to keep from falling.
6:09
I know he’s not dead in a ditch. I know that. I really really do. I know that the reason my mind goes straight to disaster is because of all that I’ve seen and all the times bad things have happened. I know that. I can tell you exactly why I have all these reactions and set out in nice scientific terms the impact of constant threats of violence to those I have come to view as my family has had on my desperate need for boundaries and rules and adherence to ritual and order. I can do the clinical thing. It’s not really helping right now. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I hate this. And I’m starting to get really, really furious with Spike. I mean, he knows how I get, he knows. He’s scraped me off the floor enough times when these moments of blind panic hit. He fucking knows. He should have fucking called. How can he does this to me? Asshole. He could at least fucking call if he’s going to be so fucking rude. I mean, yeah, evil, undead killer, but he could at least fucking call. Is that too much to ask, just some fucking common courtesy?
Maybe I should go looking for him. I know the route he’ll take. I mean, what if the car broke down, or his phone’s dead, or, or, or. Okay, that’s not helping the hyperventilating thing.
I nearly scream when the phone rings, the sound suddenly desperately loud. I press the talk button and have the receiver to my ear before the second ring can start.
“Spike?” God, I can’t believe how desperate I sound.
“Xander, I’m sorry, mate. I’ve had the worst day and I ended up oversleeping this afternoon and then the fucking car wouldn’t start and the battery was dead on the phone and the charger wasn’t working,” I can just make out his voice as the phone cuts in and out. “Be there in three minutes or so, I’m sorry, calm down.”
I let out a huge sigh as my head hits the window with an audible thunk. “I’m fine, I’ll just meet you downstairs.”
“Right, see you then. And, Xander,” I can hear the worry in his voice, “Breathe, mate. You have to breathe.”
Running a hand through my hair, I turn around, grabbing my jacket and keys, heading down the stairs, listening to his voice in my head. And breathing. Just like he told me to.
Well, that was fun. I truly do hate this. Truly. I thought I hated a lot of things in the past, but this, this I truly hate. At least my hands have stopped shaking and that’s always a very good sign. Looks like I managed to head this off at the pass. It’s been eight months since my last full blown panic attack and I am not about to start that shit again. That was a year from hell, let me tell you. But I’ve finally gotten it under control, I mean, if this happened a year or so ago nothing would have stopped it. I can feel my heart finally beginning to slow and I no longer have to consciously remind myself to breathe. Much better.
Spike’s pulled up right next to me and I slide into the seat quickly. A huge blast of new car smell hits me as I turn to fasten the seatbelt. Spike immediately pulls back onto the road and we finally head for the movies. 6:14. Plenty of time to get there and get popcorn without missing the trailers. I love the trailers, most of the time they’re better than the movie.
“So, how was your call with those bloody wankers?” I ask, drumming my fingers on the dash. I know it’s annoying, but I can’t stop. My limbs are still tingling from the adrenaline running through me. I stare straight out the window, not wanting to catch Spike’s eye. I’m trying to ignore what almost happened and I know Spike knows it. And I know he knows I know.
“Stupid buggers. I seriously do not know why they are wasting my valuable time and their valuable money,” the note of disgust is clear in his voice as I lean back, head falling onto the head rest. Obviously, he’s decided to let me get away with changing the subject. My eyes drift close as his rant goes on, I’m not really listening to what he’s saying, after all, it’s not really important what he’s talking about. It’s only important that he’s talking. There’s something soothing to that guttersnipe accent that’s as fake as his hair and just as sharp edged. It’s true, I find his voice soothing. Go figure. I give a little snort as he lets loose with a stream of invective at their parentage and personal hygiene.
“Hey, putting up with those morons is the price to pay for having all this.” I gesture broadly. “Nice, Spike, I see you decided to go with the large engine.”
“Yes, well, you never know when we might need all those horses.” I can feel the grin cross his face.
“Right. Has nothing to do with Dawn telling you how hot all the honeys would find you with this, absolutely nothing, I’m sure.” I lean forward, legs jittering, playing with the controls. Windows, mirrors, cd player, temperature controls. The dashboard has more buttons than my dvd remote.
“Of course not.” I simply snort at that response, tension slowly easing out. Of course not. Just like I don’t buy whatever clothes Dawn tells me to. We are so whipped. All she has to do is bat those eyes and Spike and I simply fork over whatever she wants or do whatever she says. Good thing she’s such a sweetheart, we spoil her rotten.
Silence falls as I continue to twitch. This is almost as bad as when the attacks do hit. Near misses leave me all jittery and keyed up. Good thing we’re going to an action flick, I don’t think I could sit through some subtitled examination of the human condition. Not that I don’t like those, but not right now. My hands are drumming on the dash again. I can feel the grain of the leather under my fingers. It’s smooth and strangely soothing. Reminds me a little of what Spike’s duster feels like the few times I’ve worn it.
“You alright, mate?” The question is asked so quietly I almost don’t hear it. I glance over, but Spike is staring straight ahead, studiously ignoring me.
“Yeah.” He just nods once, then launches into a discussion of the merits of the new Linkin Park cd.
You know, it’s times like this that really throw the differences between him and my other friends into relief. If it were Buffy or Tara or Willow who knew how close I was to a full blown attack, we would be sitting here discussing it at length with expressions of concern and sympathy and detailed strategies for coping and analysis of why now. Maybe it’s a chick thing. Spike doesn’t do that. He never has. And he’s seen the worst of it. It’s not that I can’t talk to him about this stuff, I have. And if it starts getting bad again, I will. But he’ll never push. I mean, guys don’t, you know. I know he’s worried, but he won’t make a big deal about it. He won’t.
But I do know he’s worried and that in his own way he’s trying to make me more comfortable. And you want to know how I know? Other than the stream of non sequiturs he’s spewing to distract me. You know how I know? He’s not smoking. We are about to hit the theatre and it’ll be about three hours before he can smoke again, then we’re going to grab dinner and he won’t be able to smoke then either. Usually he’d be lighting ‘em up one after the other. But he’s not. He knows the smoke bothers me.
Three hours plus without nicotine.
And he’s not lighting up.
“Well, you have excellent market penetration throughout the Northwest, so that really isn’t an issue any longer. The key is to consider whether or not you will receive a sufficient return before you divert the resources into attempting to expand into the South.” By all the cursed demons of Hades, if I have to repeat this one more time I’m going to have to kill someone. I lean back and close my eyes, fingers rubbing at my temples. Three hours of this. Three fucking hours on the damn speakerphone listening to them go on and on and repeat the same asinine comments over and over again. I swear, if Angel didn’t like CFO so much I would never have renewed the contract. At least this time I didn’t have to fly up there, bloody hell I hate being away more than a few hours. Never know what’s going to happen. I mean, last time I was only gone 72 hours and Dawn managed to crash the DeSoto and Willow and Tara had that huge fight and Xander fell off the ladder and broke his arm. Christ, I’ll never forget coming down the jetway and seeing him standing there with his arm in the sling and those bruises on this face. Thought I was going to lose it right there in the middle of the airport, it took every bit of self-control I’ve learned over the last century or so not to simply start screaming at him to tell me what or who hurt him so I could go kill it or them or whatever. Right then was when I swore that I was never letting any of them out of my sight for any extended period of time again. It’s one thing that Buffy and I are in complete agreement about.
“So, Mr. Kensington, what is your opinion on the direction of our expansion?” Damn, have to pay attention to the wankers now.
“As I noted in my report, your growth pattern over the last five years indicates,” I’m not even paying attention to what I’m saying any longer; it’s all rote by this point. I could do this in my sleep. Hmmm, there’s a thought for next time. My gaze wanders around my office as I vaguely listen to myself speak. It’s a little dusty, especially the pictures. Well, I never claimed to be Martha Stewart. I grin a little as my eyes trace of the frames. There’s me and the niblet right before the prom, now that must have been intimidating for poor Patrick, when he came to pick her up we were all there at the house. She was so lovely, like an angel who fell to earth. Right, mate, enough of that, you do not even want to start down the poetry path again. And next to that is the one of me and Xander moving that god awful ugly couch he used to have into his new place. That’s the one Buffy took just before we fell down the stairs. Well, that was one way to get rid of the couch. Should have done it years before. Oh, and there’s the one of all of us at the Slayer’s graduation party, can’t believe Joyce managed to the self-timer to work. I love this picture, Willow’s sitting on Tara’s lap, Dawn kneeling right next to them. Buffy has her hands on Dawn’s shoulders and Joyce has her arm around Buffy’s waist. There’s me wearing my glasses no less, I can’t believe they finally got a picture of me in the glasses, let alone in a suit, with my arm on Joyce’s shoulders, Xander standing next to me, one arm draped across my back and the other across Giles’s shoulders on his other side. It looks exactly like what it is, a family photo.
“We’ll take your suggestions under advisement. We would like it if you could come up again sometime in the next few weeks, we have some new people with whom you should really dialogue face to face and Ms. Pierce would like to show you the plans for the facility in Denver.” I refrain from banging my head on the desk by tremendous force of will.
“Let me check my schedule and get back to you, I’m not really available for the next two weeks. Perhaps if we could arrange for Thursday evening into Friday that may work out best.” There, stall for a bit. Things have been quiet lately but I want to check with Rupert first to make sure nothing’s on the horizon. I let out a weary sigh. I do not want to take another trip alone. I idly spin a pen on the desk, my favorite picture catching the corner of my eye. I pick it up and run a finger down the frame. It’s a snapshot Dawn took about six months ago, it’s ever so slightly out of focus and the composition won’t win any prizes. But it’s still my favorite. It’s a snap of me and Xander, sitting on a couch in the Magic Box, leaning into one another and howling with laughter. Buffy had just come back from slaying what can only be described as a Barney monster and the look on her face when she came stomping back in covered in bits of purple fuzz was priceless. Then when Xander started singing, “I love you, you love me,” well, we all lost it. And Dawn got this picture of the two of us howling like hyenas and Xander looking happier then I’ve ever seen him. It makes me smile every time I see it.
“That’s fine, why don’t we have Ms. Pierce call you Monday to make the arrangements.” I agree and finally, blessedly hear the click as they disconnect. I put my hands on my face and heave a huge sigh in relief. Silence, blessed silence. I push back and glance at the clock. 1:30. Time for some training, thank the gods. I need to do something, anything physical to work off this frustration. I really can’t stand those indecisive wankers. My shirt goes flying as I pound down the stairs, relishing a good long bout with the heavy bag. Think I’ll throw on some music, that should get me in the proper frame of mind. Hmmm, let’s see. Some NIN, some Nirvana, some Hole, some Linkin Park. That should get my dander up. My fist connects with the bag precisely as the first lick of Violet fills the room. This is more like it.
Up. Down. Up. Down. I’ve always loved the rhythm of chinups, it’s almost like meditating, you can simply lose yourself in the flow. Up. Down. Up. Down. It’s almost spiritual in a way, the movement so precise and sure. It’s good for clearing the mind. I think that’s why I always end with chinups. Up. Down. Up. Down.
“Spike!” I stop, hanging there as the call comes down the stairs. I shrug a little and then start up again. Dawn knows where to find me.
“Spike, you down here?” I hear the door open as I’m midway through pulling myself up. That and the sounds of five sets of feet. Fuck. Dawn brought the whole giggling gaggle with her. I let out a sigh then drop down right as they come to a stop at the foot of the stairs.
“Yes, Dawn, I’m down here as you can see for yourself. Ladies.” I toss a generic wave in their direction as I head over to the basket on top of the dryer, desperately hoping I left a t-shirt in it. I can hear them whispering behind me and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that they’re watching me. It’s times like this that I wish I was at least a little older before I was turned. Now that Dawn’s in college her friends view me as perfectly acceptable date material. Not that I ever would date any of them. Dawn would stake me herself. After she throttled the little wench first. Heavens, when Xander and I went to that party with her I thought she was going to slug that girl, Candy, Kami, something like that, who came up and starting kissing Xander. A small smile creases my lips at the memory. She got there a step before me. Poor Xander was so shell-shocked he couldn’t shove her off himself. The look on his face when Dawn yanked her away was funny but not. He really really wanted out of that situation. And he was so grateful for the help. Good thing it was Dawn who got there first, actually. She just slapped the bitch. I was ready to rip her throat out.
“Hey, Spike, I can only stay a second, we’re on our way to the mall, but I wanted to know what you’re doing tonight, I haven’t seen you in like a week.” Dawn hops on top of the washer as she talks to me, handing me a towel. I nod gratefully as I dry off before pulling the shirt over my head.
“Doing the dinner and a movie thing with Xander.” Her smile lights up the whole basement.
“Oh, yeah, it’s Saturday, should have known that’s what you were doing.” What the hell does that mean. She hops down and gathers up the gang. “Ok, well, how about brunch tomorrow, bring Xander, I haven’t seen him either and you two are way, way behind on the whole spoiling thing.” I snap the towel at her as she heads up the stairs, her laughter falling down behind her.
“I’ll call you tomorrow. And don’t forget to take the car in to get the oil changed this week.” It’s really not due for another two weeks, but if I don’t start reminding her now it’ll never get done in time.
“Yes, Daddy,” I faintly hear as I come up the stairs behind them. I glance over at the clock, yawning and stretching. 3:45. Enough time for a little nap, I’m really tired. Even after all these years I’m still not fully adapted to being up during the day and asleep at night. Right, short nap and then have to shower and whatnot before I head out. I flop on the bed and reach over, setting the alarm for 5:00. That should give me plenty of time.
Yawn. Stretch. Blink. Blink. Now that feels better, a nice nap is just what I needed to start feeling a little more. . . FUCK! FUCKITY FUCK FUCK FUCK! No way it is 5:45, there’s no fucking way in hell, I set the alarm, oh fuck. I grab my watch off the nightstand as I throw myself out of bed. Fuck. 5:47 now. Fuck. I must have set the alarm for 5:00 a.m. not p.m. Oh fuck I’m going to be late. And if I’m late, then Xander will worry and then he might, he might. Stop. Jump in the shower, throw on some clothes, call Xander. He’ll understand. Hell, he’ll think it’s funny. Right. Shower. NOW. I snag a pair of jeans and my blue silk shirt off the chair as I stumble into the bathroom. Right. I’ll hurry. There’s no need to worry.
I don’t think I’ve ever showered and dressed so fast in my entire existence. I run a hand through my hair as I dash into the garage. There was no time to gel it back. Guess I’ll simply have to let it dry and see how bad it gets. I run another hand back, trying to smooth it down. I grab my cell and hit speed dial 1 as I jab the keys into the ignition. A growl works its way out of my throat as the engine catches then dies. Bloody hell, I’ve only had the fucking thing for a week, what the hell can be wrong with it. Damn Germans. I ease up on the clutch as I try to turn the engine over again. And why the hell isn’t Xander’s phone ringing. In fact, why is there no noise at all? I pull the phone away from my ear and groan as I see the little red light blinking. Shit. The damn charger must be broken again. I yank open the glove box and pull out the car charger. That should work, it I ever get the damn car started. I glance at my watch and my head hits the steering wheel. 6:02. Xander’s going to start worrying in a few minutes. I have to get out of here. Why oh why did I ever let Dawn talk me out of my old car? I liked that car, it was almost as nice as the DeSoto. Alright, William, stop, calm down and start over again. Foot on the clutch, foot on the gas, turn the key. I let out a little cry of triumph as the engine sputters again and then turns over smoothly. I must a flooded it. I hit the button and the garage door opens and I’m finally on my way. Normally it takes fifteen minutes to get to Xander’s. If I push it, I can make it in ten. I’m definitely going to push it.
Finally, the damn phone is ringing. I know I won’t have long, but I should be able to talk to Xander long enough to let him know I’m fine. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe he’s not that upset, maybe he won’t be skating that edge. . .
“Spike” Oh hell. I can hear the desperation in his voice. Shit. I know better than to do this to him. I don’t think I can take it if the cycle starts up again. I can’t bear to see him like that.
“Xander, I’m sorry, mate. I’ve had the worst day and I ended up oversleeping this afternoon and then the fucking car wouldn’t start and the battery was dead on the phone and the charger wasn’t working.” Explanations are good, explanations will give him something to focus on. Like being furious at me for being an inconsiderate asshole. That’ll be good, that’ll give him something to focus on. “Be there in three minutes or so, I’m sorry, calm down.” Please calm down, Xander. I’m not worth this.
“I’m fine, I’ll just meet you downstairs.” The stress of keeping himself together is apparent in his voice and I want to slam my head into the steering wheel again. Some best friend I am, doing this to him.
“Right, see you then. And, Xander, breathe, mate. You have to breathe.” I turn the corner onto his street as I snap the phone shut. Hopefully, he’ll remember his breathing exercises and will have calmed down enough by the time I get there. I press down on the gas a little harder. It won’t hurt to try to get there even faster.
I open the door the second I pull to a stop and Xander slides right in. I glance at him out of the corner of my eyes as he pulls on the seatbelt while I back out. I can hear his heart pounding and he smells faintly of fear, but he’s breathing fine. Good. Looks like he headed this off at the pass. Good. I head towards the theatre, checking the clock. 6:14, plenty of time to get there for the trailers. Those are usually the best part.
“So,” he starts drumming his fingers on the dash, “how was your call with those bloody wankers?” The noise is annoying, but I understand. I really do. The adrenaline has got to be pounding through him and he must be absolutely wired. I know how that feels. That’s how I used to get when I was around bleeding humans. All that energy and nothing to do with it. And it appears that he doesn’t want to talk about it, at least not now. That’s fine, he’ll talk when he’s ready. And besides, there might not really be anything to talk about. I was late. I’m never late. And he worries when any of us are late. The whole situation is practically designed to push his buttons. Right now he can use a distraction. I can do that.
“Stupid buggers. I seriously do not know why they are wasting my valuable time and their valuable money, I mean they simply ignore my suggestions anyway. Not to brag or anything, but I do know what I’m talking about, after all when they finally implemented that new database system I had been hammering at them to use, they increased their repeat sales by 78%. Which was even higher than my initial evaluations.” I can’t keep the disgust out of my voice, I really don’t try. I am good at what I do, I mean, I used to play it off, but I am rather bright. More than bright actually. And any more I resent it when people treat me as if I’m stupid. “From the way they act, you would think the board was composed entirely of offspring of trolls and harpies. Actually that’s an insult to trolls and harpies. Perhaps Ryallis demons and warthogs. That Ms. Pierce’s breath definitely gives credence to that hypothesis.”
I hear him snort at that and I grin for a moment. I know I’m talking simply to provide background noise, but that’s fine. Right now distraction is what’s important. And distraction I can provide.
“Hey, putting up with those morons is the price to pay for having all this.” His hands sweep around and I realize with a start that it’s the first time he’s been in the new car. “Nice, Spike, I see you decided to go with the large engine.”
“Yes, well, you never know when we might need all those horses.” That’s true enough, this may look like a nice sedate sedan, but I can hit 100 in this in about 8 seconds. And it has all the airbags you could want, as well as ABS and all those other safety bells and whistles. We can all fit in here in a pinch and it’s more maneuverable then the Expedition. Of course, that’s what I say to justify getting this model. The truth is rather different.
“Right. Has nothing to do with Dawn telling you how hot all the honeys would find you with this, absolutely nothing, I’m sure.” He’s playing with the buttons on the dash and I grin again. Busted. I should never have taken her with me. Like I could resist those eyes. All she has to do is bat them at me and I’m putty in her hands. And Xander’s no better. Hell, she can play us with no effort whatsoever. We are so whipped.
“Of course not.” Another snort is my reply. He knows the truth. Silence falls as he pulls back and begins to drum on the dash again. There’s no real rhythm to it, he’s just working out the tension. Both legs are jittering now and the silence is getting tense. I know he’ll tell me about it if he needs to, we established that over the last year. The last thing he needs right now is me poking and prodding at him. That won’t help at all and may very well simply piss him off. But it won’t hurt to let him know he can talk if he needs to, maybe he thinks he can’t yell at me for causing this. Actually, I wish he would, then I can stop yelling at myself.
“You alright, mate?” Keep it quiet, let him know you’re worried, but that the choice is up to him. Eyes straight ahead, don’t make him feel pressured. I can hear his therapist’s voice in my head, all the hints and tips she gave me dashing through my mind. He needs to make the choice.
“Yeah.” He sounds good, his breathing is normal. I nod and decide it’s time to lighten the mood. “You know, I was listening to the new Linkin Park cd today while I was working out, I had it in with some old NIN and Nirvana and it suddenly struck me how you can trace the development of their sound straight from the others. I mean, Trent Reznor really pioneered the merger of traditional guitar based rock with the new methods of manipulating sounds to achieve a fusion of old rock and new school beats. And I don’t think I have to mention how influential Kurt Cobain still is.” I natter on as we get closer, pulling my hand back as I reach for a cigarette. Xander’s good about not mentioning anything about the smoke, but I know it bothers him. And I’ve already caused him enough discomfort tonight. So I don’t smoke for a few hours. It’s not like it’s going to kill me. It’s a small price to pay to keep Xander happy.
I pull into the parking lot right after the sun sets. Well, there’s one worry out of the way. He bounces out of the car, back to his usual cheery self as I follow behind. Damn if his energy isn’t contagious. I catch up to him quickly and grab his wrist as he reaches for his wallet.
“I’ll get the tickets, you get the popcorn.” He nods as I turn to the girl behind the glass. We went to this system awhile back when we realized it saved time to do it like this. I grab the stubs and we head into the theatre, Xander making a bee line for the refreshment stand.
“Large tub, extra butter. Two large Cokes. Oh, and some Milk Duds.” He grins at me as I cock an eyebrow. “What, I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry,” I roll my eyes when he sticks his tongue out at me. We gather up the snacks and set off for the theatre. He seems fine. Good, I’ve been looking forward to this and don’t want my idiocy to ruin anything. We settle into our seats just as the lights go down and the trailers start. I lean back and stretch, the stress of the day finally bleeding away. I mean, how can I stay upset with Xander laughing like that? I wonder where he wants to go eat. I lean further back, settling in, falling into the comfort of being here. God, this feels nice.