----Creator's Note------
In response to a certain reviewers begging (ps: I kinda like being begged at ;), I've decided to turn a one-shot into a fun little series.
I hope you enjoy the second installment in what I'm calling the Questioning Death Saga.
"Italicized" means whispered between two characters.
And, no, I have never had the fortune of being, being with or around Joss Whedon or any of the super folks that created or starred in Buffy or Angel. I'm just a simple man with a simple dream or two. I'll laugh if you sue me. This job don't pay.
-----On to the show!-----
This mist that sweeps over the graveyard is always cold, but tonight it clings deeply to my sides. I ache from the loneliness, the ironic travesty that my dreary existance is without you. You are the caramel swirl in the naughty Milky Way of my dream world. I lust to taste your skin; to speak your language. I turn with my cross; waiting for that glorious sizzle.
"Xander, you've been distracted lately. Is something wrong? Something between you and Cordy?"
"No. Cordy's her usually charming self. What do you mean, Willow?"
"I mean, well, you've just been spacey."
"Even for you." Of course, Buffy has to pipe in.
"Hey, I resent that. Is it my fault there's a Space Ghost marathon on every night this week?"
"Xander, that's no excuse. Look out!" I think I just squashed one of your lackey's feet. Are you watching me?
"Like we keep saying Xander; you have to be more vigilant."
"And finish more of your homework."
"Isn't that kind of absurd; you telling me to finish my homework?"
"Absurd? Did he just say absurd?" Why did they have to give each other that look? I am allowed to have a vocabulary you know! I'm not dumb or anything!
"Look, I can't always just sleep through Ms. Rice and her literature classes. Some things just slip in. I know you're worried." God, it's stifling and boring out here. "But you have absolutely nothing to worry about."
"I wouldn't say nothing Alex." You bastard. No one calls me Alex and gets away with it.
"Angelus?"
"Miss me, love? We've got to stop running into each other like this."
Buffy's never been a match for Angelus. I mean, honestly, think about the kind of experience a several centuries old vampire has had who's sire and childe have taken out a combined total of four slayers. I always wondered what fueled Buffy into thinking that she'd have that one lucky shot. And you know why I stayed at the back? Cause I have a nasty thing scratching at my elbow. The cool of the shade of this masoleum is particularly nice this evening. And it's not like anyone actually expects, or knows, I can do anything. Well, Angelus knows. Angelus knows quite a bit.
Uh oh; Buffy just tripped over a grave. Is that her head rolling around? Oh wait; wishful thinking. That's just a marble angel. The monologuing should have tipped me off. Does that girl ever shut up when she fights? God, she and William would be so right for each other. They both love the sound of their own voices.
"Nice fireball, Willow. Go Willow!" Oh shit; I'd better do something.
"Now that almost all of the women folk are disposed of; let the real men fight Alex."
"You son of a bitch."
"Your mom has nothing to do with this." Cheap shot. I vault towards him; it's gotta be a fun looking show to the outsider. This sixteen year-old buck fifty nothing going against a marble god clad in leather.
"I thought we agreed you wouldn't use that joke." A puny little swat at his arm.
"You left yourself wide open." He leaps after me while I tumble back a bit. Crap; Buffy just got up again.
"Oh, a real man wants to fight me now." Angelus just brushes me aside as Buffy comes at him again. He's such a tease. And why would it be so bad if I actually could tap into that thing he said I could do?
"It takes a real woman to kill a little boy."
"Hmmm. You never seemed to complain while I was screwing you mercilessly. Twice." Ouch; she dropped her right guard. Angel's not in there baby cakes. I run to Willow's side.
"Get up. Buffy's not winning." And it looks like I'll never get to whisper in his ear again. At least for tonight.
"All I've gotta do is figure the spell out."
"Shhh. You will Wills. You're very strong. But you've got to live to be that strong. Let's get Buffy out of here."
"That's not a half bad idea. I like to play with my food before I eat it." Angelus grabs me by the collar and swings me up towards his face. He lets his cock brush my hand through the leather. Men are such teases.
"How does your breath always manage to smell like mint?"
"It's all for you baby." Here's a nice little loud message; considering we've been whispering this whole time. "I'm gonna destroy you Slayer. Starting with your little friends. Or as I like to call them, playthings."
"Go to hell, Angelus!"
"We'll see Buff-et. Maybe next time I screw her; you can watch." God, I get so hard when he whispers in my ear. He's gone in a flash; leaving nothing but a set of imprints on my collar-bone and the scent of lust on the stale air.
He's mocking me; I know it. He's what? A century or so old. You'd think he wouldn't want to wait anymore than I. But here we are at the Bronze two nights later and here I am, twisting my head like a damn squirrel.
"Who are you looking for Xander?"
"Your new boyfriend; that stalky guitarist." I think my patience has snapped. That look on her face is just perfect for creating vulnerability and guilt in the male population.
"I'm sorry Wills. I've just been on edge lately. This recent stuff with Angelus..."
"It seems to have gotten to you. You've gotta calm down, Xander. He does that to everyone."
"And twice to you apparently." Damn, won't she let me even finish my own sentences?
"Well, someone's testy tonight. What exactly did Angelus whisper in your ear?"
I try to stumble over the right kind of lie when there's a large smash like a window was broken. The man formerly known as the bouncer lies at the feet of the concrete stage.
"Honey, I'm home!"
Buffy's already on the table. We kind of have this Charlie's Angels stance thing going on.
"I'm sorry. You don't have a reservation."
"Awww...and me and my friends were hoping to get in on the party." A shaft of moonlight from the broken window hits his brow as five run of the mill childes run at us. Buffy kicks down the table as a barrier and she begins to fight. The only problem is that she's never been much of a multi-tasker. Why is it the boy at the table is the only one to see those two vampires on the balcony swinging ropes down.
Poor Buffy and Willow; swinging and fighting as they get pulled down to the cellar via ropes. Which leaves me with him. He planned this; he must have planned this. I'm both flattered and disgusted. I mean, leaders don't usually just sacrifice the lower levels of their army for no reason, right? But there's more at Risk here than either of us can know. No pun intended.
"You'd better be careful Deadboy. I'm always armed."
"You still think I'm all evil and no heart? Well here; the heart of your literature teacher." There's a definite squelchy sound as something red plops a few feet away. I'm pretty sure it wasn't cotton candy.
"What do you want Angel-face?"
"I don't like your attitude Alex."
"Don't you dare call me Alex." The round table splits easily as I give one of the legs of it a snap and the pointy end I begin to twirl menacingly. You know you can't win against Angelus. You just have to try for your own sanity.
"I didn't come here tonight to win or lose. Come on, Xander. You know you want to."
I run at him with the stake. There's this mixture churning in me. This mixture of disgust and want; of life and death; of boredom and heroics. Basic everyday stuff for Alexander Harris; king of the court jesters of the hellmouth.
"I know you're stronger than this." I know he's broken at least one of my ribs and the girls must certainly be awake by now. Where the hell is everyone? The Bronze is a mesh of steel and dust. I've got a tiny stream of dried blood coming from my lip; an insignificant black eye as well. I can smell Giles at the window. He heads down the back stairwell. He'll free the girls in the cellar and then come after me. Oh hell, who am I kidding? He doesn't like me very much anyways.
"You stop playing and I will. You'd better be careful Alex. I'm getting bored."
I let the anger surge through me. He has no right to use that name. Ever since he got here; he's been nothing but trouble to everyone.
Xander flies forward onto the stage with another table leg. He lets Angelus hit his jaw again, but the adrenaline that knocks him down gives him just enough strength to send the dull end of the leg to the back of Angelus' knee. Angelus groans.
"I don't know who you think I am, Deadboy. I may not be the slayer, but I sure as hell won't let you continue to torment us."
"Don't you think you torment me, naughty boy? Staying away all this time? I think about us."
"You just stop it." Xander rips open the vampire's shirt and under the coarse lights of the stage; he almost looks alive and human. Xander can still remember the feeling of Angelus that first moment he woke up. He dangles the stake over the vampire. Angelus arches himself upward and Xander can feel Angelus allowing his hand to stroke Xander's hip. Xander's lips feel dry as he licks them. It's not hard to imagine his tongue tracing circles around Angelus' dark, cool nipples.
"Stop hiding and come here, Xander." Angelus is on top in an instant. Xander isn't sure what has happened, but this feeling only slightly disturbs him. He's not frightened that things could get any worse. Because come on; sleeping with Angelus is like playing chess with the devil. It's really all just a matter of time. But, oh God, the curve of those marble shoulders. The way his Irish biceps coarse and change as his features gorge themselves on emotion.
In an instant, Xander can feel that emotion running through him. There's a charge in the conduit between himself and Angelus. Xander arches his back and begins to feel each of Angelus' ribs before he works his hand into those leather pants. The feeling of silk sweeping across his shoulder is just madness. He closes his eyes briefly and feels himself being lifted upward. Xander is set down on something slightly scratchy.
"Play with me, Xander. All that power and that potential; they can't see you for who you are. I can see; you are so much more than what you appear to be." Angelus has stripped them both of clothing by now and Xander is so hard; begging to be touched. His breathing is shallow as Angelus begins to bounce the balls from the pool table over his ribs. Or when the very tip of his fangs work their way from Xander's collarbone to the start of his pubic hair; he tries to hold that feeling and swallow it down. But Angelus demands emotion and feeling. Stark terror or pure need; you make that choice.
Angelus mounts and Xander watches as his legs and ass rise higher and higher. Xander's hole is still tight but pulses as Angelus enters again. Xander cringes to his very shoulders as Angelus begins to pump in and out. Xander is driven to the brink of madness as Angelus slowly pumps, pulls out and then rips inward again. Deliberate lust and need or depravity; he leaves that up to you.
"Tell me."
"Angelus; please take my cock. I need to..." The deed is done even before the words occur. His lips his the ball sac as he deep throats Xander. He wants to hold this off to, but he can't stop. That look in Xander's eyes forces him onward as they rock back and forth with Xander on the pool table. The groaning shudder of words leaving Xander's tongue are laboured.
Angelus uses his speed to pentrate once more before they cum in harmony. Angelus lets out on strong howl and Xander collapses backward. He thinks before he reaches for his clothes and then turns to Angelus.
"I don't know all that happened when you had me chained or when this started, but we both know this isn't right."
"So when do you want to meet again?"