LSD, an angel fanfic

Title: LSD (Love, Sex and Death)

Author: Jon Emery

Email:

Summary: Xander, confused over who he is, leaves the Hellmouth – and meets Connor.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Six and Angel Season Three. I haven't seen any of the new seasons yet, so I've just sorta made it up as I go along.

Disclaimers: None of the characters of Buffy or Angel belong to me; they are the property of Joss Whedon (dammit!).

Notes: LSD is set about a month after "Grave" and "Tomorrow". Willow is recovered and grieving for Tara, Anya is off doing bloody vengeance and Connor has spent the last month hunting demons in LA while Angel remains trapped in the Pacific. Cordelia doesn't feature in this story, so just assume she is still fighting the good fight up in the heavens.

I need to get out of here. It was the clearest thought to enter Xander's mind in at least a year. The last twelve months had been an insane mess – Buffy's death, her revival, then her self-loathing. Dawn's rejection issues, kleptomania and constant whining. Spike's love-hate feelings for Buffy, not to mention attempted rape and eventual departure. Tara's death, one that the gang could not reverse. A death that had sent Willow over the edge. That, in a way, had been far more terrifying than anything Xander had ever faced. Forget the Master, Angelus, Faith, or Glory. His best friend looking at him with bloodlust in her eyes, oh so close to killing him.

So, that was it. Buffy, Dawn, Spike, Tara and Willow. And… Anya. The demon/woman that he thought he loved, the woman that he had left at the altar. She was the reason that Xander needed to leave Sunnydale. He'd left her, because of something that he felt… or didn't feel, he still wasn't sure. What he was sure of was that when he had seen Spike and Anya having sex in the Magic Box, it hadn't been Anya's betrayal that stirred him. It had been… something else.

It barely took a whole bag to carry all of his belongings, he had so few that he wanted to keep. It was the story of his life, really. Just a few clothes, a stake and a photo – it had been taken shortly before Joyce died. The whole gang was there – Buffy, Dawn, Anya, Giles, Willow and Tara. Joyce had even coaxed Spike into standing on the periphery.

Xander decided then that this photo would be his last memory of Sunnydale – a kind of innocent happiness, before all of the death, pain and despair. Standing up and making his way towards the door, Xander left his apartment.

And didn't look back.

Nights were cold in LA. Connor had learnt that soon after arriving in this world, along with the fact that his father was totally different from who he had expected, and not all demons were filthy scum. Just most of them. The one that he was currently tracking had just left a loud, violent underground bar and was presumably looking for a kill before it settled down for the sunrise. Well, it was going to get a kill, just not the kind that it wanted.

Armed with nothing but a hunting knife, Connor followed the creature down an alley (he had encountered a lot of these in the past month) and within five minutes he was walking out of it again, spattered slightly with dark blue blood and one of the demon's teeth in his back pocket. Life, for now, was good.

The Dancing Corpse was the fourth on my list. Since arriving in LA two weeks ago, I'd killed twelve vampires and three demons. I had only intended to stay in Angel's town for a few days, but something in the air kept me there. I had been doing the rounds on the local demon bars, taking out the more dangerous guys. And I could fight. It was something I never revealed in Sunnydale, because it would have raised too many questions, like where I learned kickboxing, or krav maga. And I really didn't want to have to tell Buffy that while Riley was out screwing vampire chicks, he was also screwing me. And while I showed him a few interesting things, he showed me a few things too. Like how to send a demon flying over your shoulder when it was straddling you on the ground. That came in real useful last week, by the way. Thanks Ri, wherever you are. And thanks for the memories, too. We had some good times.

Connor's lithe form slipped easily between the crowds of The Dancing Corpse, his sharp eyes flicking from one cavorting demon to another. It would be so easy to just douse them all in kerosene and light a match – some of them might even like it. But he couldn't afford being noticed. He couldn't afford word of the vampire's son to get back to his father's friends. Cordelia would undoubtedly be out for his blood now that she knew what he had done to Angel, and Fred and Gunn would not be far behind.

Pushing the thought to the back of his mind (the place where Angel lay helpless in an iron crate, deep in the ocean), Connor started to dance.

Dressed in leather pants and a zipped, collarless leather jacket, Xander couldn't decide whether he looked like a biker's bitch or a rent boy. Or both. It didn't matter, really. Just so long as he attracted the attention of a good catch, one that would maybe take him into the alley outside 'for some privacy'… Then Xander could go home and get some sleep. He didn't know that sleep wasn't on anyone's agenda tonight.

It had been almost an hour and Connor hadn't found anyone suitable. But he was having a good time, though. He could understand why so many people came to these noisy, crowded, hot places. At first clubs had reminded him too much of the demon world where he grew up, but then he got used to them.

He was about to go home when he saw something. Not a demon, exactly, but definitely something worth his attention. He was about Connor's age and height, but his hair was darker, thicker, his facial structure softer. As Connor watched him writhe to the tribal beat of the club, he felt a low, deep part of himself tighten. Knowing that he should be killing something right now, Connor continued to watch.

The sight of him dancing is almost intoxicating – I feel strange just watching him. I've had sex before, in Quortoth it's a major part of life (that and pain, often hand-in-hand), but I have never felt anything like what is going through me right now, watching this dark angel move through the smoke and sweat of the club, his full lips moving subtly, sometimes smiling, sometimes forming a soft pout. He rubs himself against the vilest demons as he dances, almost as if he wants them to react to him – which they do. But instead of removing his arms, they just do what I do. Watch.

I know he's watching me. I like it, I think. It's different. But nice. So I turn it up a little, swing my hips a bit more and rub up against anything in my vicinity. Maybe not such a good idea in a place like this, but hey, I amhere to get some demons pissed off. But now I've got a lot of new items on my list. Make this whoever-he-is horny as hell, take down a few monster and maybe, just maybe, I can get this thing out of my mind. This question, of why, when I should have been hurt by Anya, all I could feel was lust for Spike? I bet this guy can answer a few questions for me.

Xander soon coupled up with a Talro demon, and had been in the alley barely seconds before it tried to engage him in its disgusting mating ritual. Out came the knife. Unfortunately, Xander hadn't known that Talro demons had rhino-skin. He was peeling himself off the wall when the guy from the club came into the alley. The Talro turned, distracted, and Xander took the opportunity to sweep it off its feet with a steel pole that was conveniently nearby. God bless America, he thought to himself while getting to his feet.

Taking a fighting stance, expecting the Talro to turn back to him, Xander realised that it was busy with the other guy. And not the usual kind of demon-human interaction. This demon was getting its ass kicked. Badly. This pale, pretty man executed an expert roundhouse kick, grabbed the demon's shoulders and rammed his knee into it's face. Enraged, the Talro thrust it's open palm out, sending the guy crashing into a wall. It was the same trick that it had used on Xander. Holding the metal pole with both hands, not taking a second to think, Xander thrust the steel through the Talro's back, sending it straight through out the other side.

Slam dunk… he thought, turning to the guy that had just got to his feet. He watched as he took in the demon's skewered corpse, then him. He stood like that for a few minutes, looking from the demon to Xander, then back to the demon, as if he couldn't quite believe that it had been him who had killed it.

Returning his stare, Xander inwardly struggled for something to say. Somehow, 'do you come here often' didn't seem quite right. Eventually he settled for;

"I'm Xander." The stranger seemed to relax a little, and Xander desperately wished that he would tell him his name, so that he could attach something to that beautiful face.

"Connor." Connor. Interesting. But nice. Yeah, Xander and Connor… what the hell am I thinking?

"Right. Well…. See you around." Nodding softly, Xander turned around and sauntered out of the alley.

God, how does he do that? He kills a demon with his bare hands, then oozes sexual allure a minute later.

I could barely stand still as he left, when I wanted to pounce on him, make him mine…

Xander. He said his name is Xander. It sounds strange, like its short for something… Alexander?

Hah! Alexander, the Demon Slayer.

I want him.

The next week was a sexual limbo for Xander; every time he dusted a vampire, or killed a demon, he half-expected (and half-wanted) to turn around and see Connor standing there. There was just something about him, something different, or special, or… Xander really couldn't think of a word that suitably described Connor. But that didn't matter. Words didn't make a difference… actions did. God, it was just so frustrating, this thing, like an itch beneath his skin that no amount of scratching would ease. It had been with him for a while, but since he had met Connor it had seemed to get even worse. But how the hell did he find someone he'd only met once? He didn't even know Connor's last name… if he even had one. Okay, so what do I know about Connor? Um… he's sexy as hell. Alright, not helping. He kills demons, and he does it in LA. Ah!

Who else did Xander know who hunted demons in LA? Why hadn't he thought of it sooner? Well, okay, he didn't really like Angel, actually he'd been trying to avoid the brooding son-of-a-bitch while he was in town, but… that didn't mean he couldn't ask Cordelia about any pert, pouty little Rambo fans that may have arrived recently, did it?

Result!

Fred had just shut off the computer when she heard the lobby doors open. Stepping out form the office, her heart stopped in her chest for half a second. Sure this guy was tall, dark and kinda good-looking but he wasn't Angel. They still didn't know where Angel was, or Cordelia.

"Hi," she said, assuming the blank we-help-the-helpless smile she'd picked up since coming to Angel Investigations. "Can I help you?"

"Well, maybe." The guy smiled softly. "I'm looking for someone. Cordelia Chase? I'm an old friend from high school."

"Oh! You're Xander!" Fred quickly made the connection between this man and the guy Cordy had told her stories about. "Cordy told me us a few things about you."

"And I'm sure they're all the least flattering things on this planet." Xander's smile widened. "So… is she here?" He watched the expression in Fred's face change, and immediately his smile disappeared. "What's happened?" Can I trust this man? It was the obvious question to ask herself, but if he was an old friend of Cordelia, then didn't he deserve to know?

"We're… we're not sure what's happened." In the corner of her eye Fred saw Charles come in from the sewer entrance, spattered with green goo. Thank God… she thought. I don't have to explain this on my own…

"Charles!" She greeted him. "This is Xander, from Sunnydale. He's looking for Cordy." Xander must have seen the same expression on Charles' face as he had on Fred's because he sighed, and snapped;

"Will one of you just tell me what's happened to her?"

"Well, that's the thing." Charles said. "We ain't got no clue where she is, or Angel."

"Angel's missing too?"

"Yeah," Charles replied. "I mean, at first we just kinda assumed they'd got it on and were together somewhere, 'cos they've been workin the sexual tension thing for months, y'know? But now we're not so sure. We knew that they were meeting each other, but we've heard nothing from either of them since. We don't even know if they got to where they were going."

"Okay, getting past the confusion that is Cordy and Angel getting together, what could have happened? Do you think it could have been some kind of demon?"

"Not really," Fred said. "If it was, Angel would have just killed it, or Cordy would have used her powers."

"What? Alright, you've now officially lost me." Xander sat down. "Explain to me exactly, how did Cordelia get powers?"

"Well, um, did she tell you about her visions?" Xander nodded. "Well, the human body isn't strong enough to handle them. She had a really bad one and it damn near killed her… so she made a deal with the Powers That be, and they changed her – made her… not quite all human. The powers are a big side effect."

"My God…" Xander ran a shaky hand through his hair. "I've been in town for weeks, and I had no idea any of this was going on." Fred and Gunn shared a look. They both suspected (hell to that, they both knew) that Connor was behind it, but could they say that to Xander? Fred was pretty sure Xander knew nothing about Connor, so she ventured, tentatively;

"We think that Connor might have something to do with it…" She saw Xander's head snap up, his face a mask of surprise, but he quickly covered it and said;

"Who's Connor?" Charles had noticed the reaction too, and told Xander that Connor was a demon hunter that had come to town recently. He and Fred decided silently between each other that Xander shouldn't know anything, until they knew how he knew Connor.

"So, you think that he might have targeted Angel and Cordelia because they're not human?" Fred nodded. A little while later Xander left, leaving two very worried (and confused) people behind.

When he got back to his motel room Xander collapsed onto the bed and ran the afternoon's events through his mind. Cordelia, a demon? It just didn't seem possible. And the thought that Connor might have killed her made his blood go cold. Just before he left the Hyperion Xander had asked if Wesley was around, and the icy looks on Fred and Gunn's faces had been enough to send him running into the street. What the hell had been going on in LA? From what Cordy had told him on the phone, Angel was a Dark Avenger, a champion fighting the good fight for innocent people. Champions didn't get picked off by irresistible little vampire slayers. And Homecoming Queens did not make deals with demons. And former Watchers did not do something so wrong that it would warrant such cold looks from a human being. It just looked like everything had gone wrong for the Side of Good in LA. Their Champion and their Prophet were both gone, as was their researcher. All that was left was two scared, vulnerable people. God have mercy on them.

God have mercy on them, Connor thought. He was standing in the middle of the street, just watching the people pass him, completely oblivious to the dangers with which they lived, or the threat that walked among them that very second. Gazing at a young woman walking past, Connor couldn't help but think how easy it would be to just grab her by the hair and snap her neck like a twig. But, he wouldn't. Because it was wrong. The thought made Connor snigger. Right and wrong didn't even come into it, all that mattered was that Connor was stronger, better than the rest of the people that walked these streets. That was the main thing, wasn't it? Right and wrong didn't matter, just power? Those who have it are strong, those who don't are weak. Holtz, his real father had taught him that… but it didn't seem as crystal clear now. These people were all human, all so frail and ignorant to the real danger they were in. They lived in a world with different rules, different ways of doing things. And Connor was trying as hard as hell to follow these rules, at least as much as was possible with all the demon-killing. And then there was that mysterious, beautiful stranger that had made killing a demon twice his size look as easy as buttering toast. Yeah, Connor definitely wanted to see Xander again.

I step into a shady bar that has a reputation for being frequented by vampires. It definitely looks the part, all grime and shadows. I walk up to the bar, lean against the counter and order a whiskey. It's strong, vile and it wants to hurt me. I've grown to like it in the past few months. The bartender sets a shot glass down on the counter, and I can tell he is a vampire without even needing to look up. He reeks of death.

I knock back the whiskey and order another, and I have just downed that when I notice someone else coming into the bar.

Tall, muscular from what I can make out, dark hair, a strong jaw, smoky eyes…

It's Xander.

He's here.

And I'm not letting him get away this time.

This bar doesn't seem to be much of a challenge. I can only see five figures as I enter, and I doubt that all of them are even vampires. Like, that guy at the bar, he seems a little… okay, I know that posture. That frame is familiar. Would I be over-the-top in saying I recognised that ass?

Okay, so KA-CHING! Alexander (LaVelle) Harris, this is officially your lucky day! Connor turns, sees me, and a faint smile plays on his lips, like he's the cat and I'm the mouse that just walked straight into his lair. He's in for a surprise or two.

Time to get my questions answered.

Okay, so I'm fooling no-one when I say talking will be involved. But we will be using our mouths.

Xander walked up to the bar, laid his palms on the counter and turned his head to Connor.

"Come here often?" Connor didn't seem to get the cliché, but he did give out another of those secretive little smiles.

"No," he said. "You could say I'm here on business." His eyes moved to the bartender, and a few of the bar's 'patrons'.

"I figured you'd be here for the same reasons as me." Xander said, and saw the two empty shot glasses in front of Connor.

"How's the whiskey?"

"Bad."

"Makes sense. It's not like they're gonna drink it or anything. So, how long are we gonna stand here and chat before getting down to the action?" Okay, I really just said that, didn't I? Breathe, Xander, breathe…. This time, Connor definitely got the meaning, and he turned his body to face Xander.

"Not long at all," he smiled, and his hand went behind his back. "Because I think our friends here are getting hungry." The hand emerged with a stake, and he spun and plunged it into the chest of the vamp coming up behind him before Xander even registered it was there. Connor took the remaining shot of whiskey left on the counter, then nodded in Xander's direction. "Three behind you, one behind the bar and two on my left. You ready?" Xander didn't answer, just pulled out a stake of his own, turned and kicked a vamp in the stomach as it tried to rush him. He kicked again, this time in the face, and the vampire was dazed enough for Xander to stake it without difficulty. He turned back to Connor, but his new friend was busy fighting two vampires, using the most intricate moves Xander had ever seen, and making it look as easy as breathing. Okay, so Connor is kinda special… his brain said. Tell me something I don't know… and while you're at it, stake the two vamps that are coming at you. Xander made quick work of them both, not bothering with anything fancy, and it was just as well because the instant one vampire was dust, another took its place. This must be some kind of secret meeting place, Xander thought. They must have been hiding in the basement or something. Pretty soon the entire bar was filled with vampires, and Connor and Xander stood back to back, punching and kicking and blocking and stabbing, and it soon became clear that it wasn't enough. Using a pool cue to impale three vamps at once, Xander vaulted over the bar and grabbed the barkeep's baseball bat – the one that was guaranteed to reside behind any bar in this part of town. Using it to smash the bottles, Xander kept an eye on Connor as he doused the counter in alcohol, then searched for a matchbox. Finding one on the cash register, Xander leapt over the bar again, taking the matches and a bottle of tequila with him. Uncorking the bottle, Xander spun round, shaking the bottle I all directions until the vampires near him were soaked. Then, watching the realization (and lurid fascination) dawn in Connor's eyes, Xander struck the match against the booze-soaked bar. The room turned to flames, and the two young men danced in death and destruction, oblivious to anything but each other.

The first kiss was hard, passionate and exploratory; all about probing and claiming and need. The second was more gentle, but still fueled by a deep, burning fire, more volatile than the one Xander had started at the bar. It took them what seemed like an eternity to get to Xander's motel – they would stop after a few moments, gaze at each other and then collapse into a lusty kiss or embrace, drunk on the power that they held.

When they finally made it to the room, Xander pinned Connor to the bed, knowing that neither of them would be leaving for a very, very long time. Connor wrapped his arms around Xander's neck, deepening the kiss, reveling in the feeling of their tongues intertwined, indeterminable. He felt Xander's strong, warm hands reach under his shirt, rubbing his abs, his chest, his nipples, then pull the shirt off and start on Connor's body with his tongue.

Gasping in pleasure, Connor used his preternatural strength to flip Xander over, and started to return the favour. Soon all of their clothes were gone, and the two of them were just writhing, naked against each other, exploring each other's bodies and discovering new heights of pleasure. It was a frantic dance that neither one wanted to finish, but it was quickly becoming apparent that they needed to take this further. Holding Connor down again, this time more forcefully, Xander licked the younger man from the neck, to his chest, then to the stomach, finally stopping just above his hard, sensitive member. Grinning seductively, Xander delicately licked the swollen tip. Connor let out the lightest of gasps, one that only just carried through the air to Xander's ears. Smiling again, Xander licked Connor's cock from the head all down the shaft to the base. Then he took it all in in one go, eliciting another moan from Connor. With one hand he stroked Connor's nipples, with the other he caressed Connor's balls. Pretty soon the boy started to breathe faster, to moan louder and then he was coming, erupting shot after shot of hot cum in Xander's mouth. He swallowed it all easily, and then licked his dick clean. He pulled himself up over Connor's limp body, stroking his own strained hardness, and lifted the boy's legs gently.

"I don't have any lube." He said softly.

"Good." Connor said. "I like the pain." He rested his legs on Xander's shoulders, and his soft grunts turned into a yell when Xander entered him – it was too much, to big, to long…. And Connor loved it. Xander clamped his hand over Connor's mouth when he started shouting, and even that sent a thrill down his spine. His whole life Connor had been the dangerous one, the one that people feared, the one in control. Now, being the one that was utterly helpless just turned him on, in ways he could never have imagined. Soon Xander picked up the pace, and his thrusts grew quicker, harder. Connor felt himself grow back to hardness again, and Xander started to pump him in time with his own thrusts, slamming into Connor as his hand would run down the shaft, harder and faster and louder and more forceful, more violent, more brutal until they both came loudly, screaming each other's names and other wordless cries of ecstasy.

It took several, long minutes for the heavy panting to subside, and when Xander rolled off of Connor, the young man pulled his new lover close.

Exhausted beyond words, the pair just lay there, content in the feeling of, if only temporarily, being free of themselves and lost completely in another person's arms.

The End

Email Marquis de Sade

This is my second slash fic (the first one being Ashes to Ashes), and I'd really like to know what people think. So, feedback please!

I owe the title of this fic to the band Enigma; Love Sex and Death is the title of their best-hits CD. I may be making a sequel soon, so stay tuned folks! Oh, and remember – only start fires if you have the total consent of the person or animal you are setting fire to. Bye for now!