Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of this work of fiction, and no profit, monetary or otherwise, is being made through the writing of this.
A/N: AU, hc_bingo card prompt - trapped between realities (kind of sort of). This just sort of happened when I sat down to write tonight. I went with the flow of the writing, and had fun with it. Please ignore any errors, as I'm trying to not be obsessive with grammatical perfection. Please enjoy.
Xander had never been more terrified of his father in his life. The man was livid. His face was turning purple with an effort, Xander assumed, to stay in control of the situation, which was quickly spiraling out of control.
He would have laughed, had he not been so afraid. And then there was the tiny matter in which Xander wasn't exactly overly happy about the circumstances under which his father was nearly apoplectic, either. How could he be, what with his being kind of sort of somewhat married to Angel?
Come to think of it, Angel wasn't overly happy about the situation either, though, the broody master vampire was standing beside him, scowling at Mr. Tony Harris who was advancing on the two of them rather rapidly.
"Uh, dad, I can..." Xander's words were cut off by his father's hands wrapping around his neck.
Xander would have been impressed by how quickly Angel had his own hands wrapped around Tony Harris' neck, pinning the man up against the wall, except for the fact that the vampire was now in full-on vamp mode, and Tony's eyes were bugging out of his head, and it wasn't because of the rather muscular arm that was now pinning him into place. A muscular arm that, for some unfathomable reason, Xander found himself drawn to as though he was a moth and Angel's perfectly sculpted arm was a flame.
"Xander?" Angel was giving him an odd look, and Xander blinked, and then shook his head to clear it.
"Uh..." great repertoire tonight, Xan-man, he thought. Am I drooling?
"Xaaaander..." someone was slapping his face, and it sounded like he was being summoned from far, far away.
He blinked, and darkness fled, and Xander found himself lying flat on his back in the middle of a cemetery, Angel and Willow - the voice calling to him - kneeling on either side of him.
"Wha...ha...p'n'?" Xander's lips and tongue weren't working in concert with each other, and was Angel actually looking like he was maybe kind of concerned about him?
"You were hit with a poisoned arrow, and you slammed your head against the trunk of a tree." Giles was peering at Xander over the tops of his glasses.
"Huh?" Xander's head was pounding far too hard for him to think straight, and he couldn't stop staring at Angel, and thinking about the vampire's massive arms - the muscles that lay hidden beneath the light blue shirt that he was wearing.
"Xander?" Angel's voice was soft, concerned, and Xander wondered if he was still dreaming. He shot a look beyond Angel's shoulder, wondering if Tony Harris was going to come gunning for him again, but, it was Buffy who stood beyond Angel. She was brushing her hair back from her face, and watching the area around them, as though expecting another attack.
"Are you alright?" Willow finished Angel's half-asked question, and Xander wondered if he'd stepped right into the Twilight Zone. Willow being concerned about him was one thing, but finishing Angel's questions? That was a bit much.
"Do you think you can stand if I help you up?" Angel asked, and Xander tried to think his way through the question, tried to understand what it was that Angel was really asking him.
His head hurt, and he was more than halfway convinced that he wasn't thinking straight, and that none of what was happening was real. Maybe he and Angel were back in his kitchen, facing the wrath of Tony because they'd gotten vampire-human married, or mated, or whatever...which...was worse than whatever was happening here.
"I'll take that as a, no," Angel said with a soft sort of chuckle, and a shake of his head. Before Xander's mouth and brain could work out an answer, he was being lifted in the air, as though he weighed nothing, Angel cradling him like a baby.
"I can walk," Xander said, feeling the heat of a blush creeping up the back of his neck.
"Let Angel carry you," Willow said.
"Yeah, Xander," Buffy said, her face swimming into view. She touched Xander's cheek, and gave him a sad sort of smile. "Let Angel carry you. C'mon, guys, let's get out of here, before someone else decides to rain on our little parade."
As far as speeches went, Xander felt that Buffy's had fallen a little flat. It wasn't nearly as pun-er-ific as it could have been, and, more than that, it was downright discombobulating, because why should he, of all people, let Angel carry him? And, exactly what, 'parade,' was being rained on?
"He's shivering," Angel said, with a voice that was way too worried, and, before Xander could open his mouth, he was being whisked away from the cemetery at vampire speed, the headstones nothing more than a steely gray blur as he flew past them.
Unable to do much of anything, Xander decided to settle back, let his head rest against Angel's chest. It was devoid of a heartbeat, something which probably should have been alarming, or disconcerting, or...something, but it wasn't.
If anything, it was comforting, and it felt familiar, like Xander was used to being carried around by Angel, except, well, Xander hated Angel - didn't he? And, it wasn't like he was some kind of male version of a damsel in distress. Not often enough to be used to the lack of heartbeat while being carted across town by a vampire who showed no sign of slowing down until he reached what Xander recognized as Angel's home.
"You're safe now," Angel said, finally setting Xander down on his feet.
To his credit, he didn't wobble, much. Angel was beside him, ready to catch him should he fall, even as he led Xander into his home. Again, Xander was struck with how familiar this was, how, at home, he felt.
"Xander, are you alright?" That question, those worried eyes, again.
"I'm fine," Xander said, a little more gruffly than he meant to.
"Something's wrong," Angel said, and then, the vampire leaned in close, much too close for Xander's comfort, except for the fact that Xander leaned in close to Angel as well, close enough for their lips to touch.
Xander's heart fluttered in his chest, and his eyelids slipped shut when Angel's mouth found his, their lips touching and sparking something deep inside of Xander that had him opening his mouth, himself, fully to Angel.
And then it all came back to him in a burst of memories- their accidental, yet irrevocable, bonding, courtesy of Drusilla and Spike and a wandering band of gypsies, a broken curse and a prophecy that had thwarted some kind of apocalypse, and Xander's father going berserk, almost killing him because his son was a, 'fag', Giles and Buffy having to drag Angel away to keep the vampire from killing Tony, and bleeding him dry.
"Oh," Xander said, stumbling, his knees buckling. Angel caught him up in his arms, for the second time that night, and, with a smile that could cause the sun to fall out of orbit, or something far more romantic than that, he carried Xander up to their room.
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