Title: Encounters outside of Fresno
Author Name: Kaliflower
Rating: K+
Warnings: None. Spoilers through season 2 of Angel and season 5 of Buffy.
Disclaimer: I do not own this; many other people like Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and the good people at Fox own these characters and this show. I just play in the sandbox
Summary: It's a dark and stormy night. Unfortunately, it's Southern California and no one expects that.
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The antique shop looked run down from the outside. It was a plain box of a building with peeling pale blue paint and a few windows caged in bars. The shop was bordered by empty lots on both sides where new, green weeds had overtaken them. The weeds would last, at best, a few weeks while there was still the combination of warm weather and rain. While the surroundings were not attractive, the air was sweet and warm, with little of the smog that Wesley had come to associate with Southern California. Not that this was Southern California, exactly. As Cordelia had pointed out before he left, the Central Valley was a land of its own, too poor and unimportant to be attached to either Southern or Northern California.
He had driven up in the morning in his new SUV, glad that he had traded in his motorcycle with the prospect of this trip looming in the near future. He learned his lesson about long trips and motorbikes two years ago: don't do it. Air conditioning, comfortable clothes, and light jazz - that he wouldn't admit to liking in public - on the stereo, made the trip to Fresno much better than the last time he had ventured up. That was when he had first discovered Crawford's Antiques, a shop with an owner who had a penchant for finding very rare and valuable books and magical amulets. It had some of the best books on demonic possession he had ever found in California.
He opened the door and the air conditioning rushed across his face like a strong wind. As he neared the counter he heard a familiar voice. He saw the owner of the store, an old man named Crawford, behind the counter lightly tapping his fingers on the desk, while a dark haired man was gesturing wildly with this hands. "So, then I say, 'Helicopters don't fly. They beat the air into submission.'"
"Uh, huh." The older man said, fingers beating louder against the counter top.
"That got the vampire to stop for a second, and Buffy, comes up behind him, and whoosh," he mimed a sword beheading the unfortunate vampire, "cuts off his head. It was great. Then my girlfriend, Anya, comes up and says," he trailed off. Clearing his throat the young man said. "Well, that's a different story."
What in the world was Xander doing on the outskirts of Fresno? Wasn't he supposed to be a sidekick following around the Slayer? Wesley gave the shop a good once-over. There was no way the store was big enough for him to hide, and besides hiding from Xander was too ridiculous to contemplate for long. He stood up a little taller and tried to remember that he was the boss of Angel Investigations now. He had confronted much more dangerous and intimidating men many times over since he last met Xander.
Wesley took advantage of the first break in Xander's monologue to interrupt and say: "Hello, Mr. Crawford, I'm with Angel Investigations, I'm here to pick up the Compendium." Ignoring Xander, Crawford nodded and said he'd be back in a minute before disappearing into the depths of his stock room. Due to the sensitive nature of the text Wesley and Mr. Crawford had agreed that Wesley would pick up the book.
Xander had turned around and Wesley braced himself for one of the young man's sarcastic witticisms. Instead, Xander said, "Hey, Wes, long time, no see."
Wesley still wasn't sure that this wasn't the set up for a punch line featuring him or Angel, or some combination of both, and he replied cautiously. "It has been a long time, hasn't it." There was a tension Wesley could feel between him and Xander. For him, at least, Xander was a painful part of his past that Wesley ignored as much as possible. Glancing around the shop, Wesley continued while Crawford rummaged in the back. "Last I heard you were still working with Buffy?"
"Yeah, I'm up here looking for a book that might help us with a little Hellmouth-y situation we're in right now. Giles says it's probably here, and I'm the go-fetch guy. You?"
"I'm picking up a book for Angel Investigations." Wesley was reluctant to share much with Xander, less from caution and more from dislike. The book was a rare edition and while it was not vital for their work at the moment, the text was potentially too important to pass by.
Mr. Crawford brought out the book Wesley needed to buy, De La Croix's Compendium, and Xander's eyes bugged after reading the title. "Wait, this is the book you're going to buy?" Wesley nodded, leafing through the pages carefully. "But, this is the book we need." Pointing to Crawford, Xander said. "He said he didn't have it." Panic edged into his eyes. Even when they had been facing the Mayor together, still one of the most terrifying events in Wesley's life, Xander hadn't shown much fear. It had been a false bravado, but he had still had the ability to mask his fear with witticisms and single entendres. Now there was actual fear. A small, selfish part of Wesley wanted to rub his possession of the book in the Xander's face. To provoke the panic and watch the young man squirm. Wesley's voice became hard as stone as he replied. "What do you need it for?"
"Ever heard of a God named Glory?" Wesley shook his head no. "She wants a key that will cause all dimensions to collapse together so she can go home." Xander glanced around before he continued. "She thinks Buffy has the key to do it with."
While listening to Xander plead his case, Wesley placed the company credit card on the counter and purchased De La Croix's Compendium. Crawford wished Wesley a good-evening as he finished the sale and wrapped up the book. Xander followed Wesley out of the store into the dying sunlight. "You can't just buy this away from us. We need that book." Once they were on the broken cement of the antique shop's parking lot, Wesley dropped the book in Xander's hands.
A nervous sweat had broken out on Xander's face, and he rubbed at forehead absentmindedly with the back of his arm. "I can't believe you just did that. Just let me hang there. I thought you were going to rub it in my face that I couldn't have the book."
"Well, it crossed my mind." Which was lie, but Wesley was enjoying playing with Xander. Revenge, even petty revenge, was fun.
With the book firmly in his hands, Xander flared with anger, his whole body tensing. "I don't remember you being such a dick before." Pausing for dramatic affect, Xander screwed up his face in a mime of deep thought. "Oh, nope, there it is."
"Good to be remembered fondly." Wesley sneered just a little.
Ignoring Wesley's comment Xander repeated. "We need this book." He took a deep breath and hugged the Compendium to his chest with one arm. "We're desperate."
Wesley could see a battle weariness that he hadn't appreciated before, in the dim light of the store. He felt remorse tug at his chest. "I'm sorry that I lead you to believe that I was going to withhold the text."
Xander stood in the parking lot, clutching the Compendium, and breathing deeply. "It's alright. We've all been a little high strung in Sunnydale this spring. Fighting a God will do that, I guess." Wesley nodded, feeling a momentary connection to another young man fighting a battle much bigger than he was.
Wesley walked Xander to his truck, a used economy model with a construction logo plastered on the side of the door, that matched the building in color and upkeep. Xander opened the door and tossed the text onto the bench seat, alongside a hard hat and tool belt. "I have to get back to Sunnydale by tonight, otherwise I'd offer to take you out for coffee or something. It would be nice to catch up, compare battle scars."
"Thank you for the thought. Perhaps some other time."
Driving home, past ranch land and onto the 5, he relaxed into the soft jazz on his stereo. He'd be home in time tonight to get a bit of a rest before he headed to the office tomorrow. He would have to remember to call his Father and wish him a happy birthday. He began listing what he would do the rest of the week, and thought little of his awkward meeting with a ghost from his former life.