Chapter 9
Things Unsaid
Okay, so Spike has me spooked, I am man enough to admit it. And for the last three nights I have been real jittery at work. Every corner checked, every customer entering glanced over for bleached hair. Thankfully, it was all for naught. He hasn't returned to the Bronze all week.
I can't get his eyes out of my head. It was they way he looked at me. Like… a whole wigsome world of new that sinks into my flesh. He… uhg.
I punch the bag faster. I punch it harder. I punch it like my life depends on it. One last slam and I half step, half stagger back, falling upon my tight little butt on Gile's lawn. I gasp up lungfuls of sky.
That goddamn stare.
"Looks like I got me some competition." Buffy says. She is leaning on the doorframe, her arms casually slipped in her pockets.
"Oh… puhlease… I… seen you… punch… one of these… right off… the chains."
"Serves it right too. It was talking trash about my shoes. What was I supposed to do, take it? I think not. Seriously though, I am impressed."
"I thank you... for not mocking... my efforts." I climb to my feet and start unwrapping my hands. Trying, at least. Buffy steps real close and starts helping me. She smells of vanilla lotion and sun warmed skin, and I catch myself wanting to bury my head into her neck and take a deep long sniff. Cheeks flushed, I turn my head away and hold my breath.
My crush? Well, apparently doing my best to ignore it hasn't killed it off none. It feels every bit as strong and painful as when she crushed my heart back in high school.
I'm sorry Xander, I just… don't think of you that way.
It hurt. I sulked. I dealt. At least, I think I had. Friend zone is a pretty cool place to be with a superhero, after all. Not a consolation prize, but an honour. Sure, I never stopped feeling attracted to her, but I had a place in her heart and that was enough.
But since my return, I don't know, I just felt closer to her. She spoke more freely to me, more playful and yes, more intimately about things like… well, sexy wiring. She was physically closer too. But… I… well, perhaps I was being accepted into a closer circle. Yeah, I was one of the girls now. That's all that happened, I am sure. But that closeness kick started my feelings again. And I don't know why, but they felt louder and more… intrinsic to my whole being. I wasn't… uhg.
I wasn't just thinking with my dick.
Buffy shoots me an easy smile as she finally works free my hands. Still holding my breath I nod a thankful smile and immediately retreat to a safe distance. A big sip of water from my canteen makes a perfect excuse. Buffy absentmindedly steadies the swinging bag, as I towel down.
"Sooo, Buffster, didn't happen to stake Spike lately did ya?"
"No such luck. Word on the street he has something big brewing. No details. But as soon as he sticks that dumb head out of whatever hole he has crawled into, I will promptly remove it for him." Her melancholy then starts to show. "I hope Drusilla pops up too. I still owe her for Kendra."
"You will get her Buff. Have faith." I say and for a moment she looks away. Oh. I am such an idiot.
But she recovers in style, looping her arm around mine and walking me back to the house.
"Damn girl, is that a six pack going on down there?" She jokes, giving my belly a prod. A Buffy bulb goes on. "Oooh keg."
"What?" I look down, confused.
"Keg. Yunno… that kegger is on tonight."
"No. No way. Not in a million years."
"Come on. You never come out anymore. All work and no play makes Xander a dull…" her turn to wince.
"Answers no."
"Not acceptable."
"No."
"Denied. Overruled."
"Defendants appeals on grounds of severe disinterest."
"Don't make me pout." She looks at me with those big hazel eyes and a look of innocence. "Here it comes."
I groan up at the sky before she drags me inside.
Shit.
The Scooby meeting is kind of a bust in all things supernatural tonight. Newcomer Tara is sitting on the floor nursing a mug of herbal tea, whilst Buffy and I take up the couch. Buffy has my legs across her lap, painting my toenails a deep black blue color will ruthless efficiency. My fingers are held exactly where she commanded them to be (so as to avoid smudging her work).
Willow is sitting across from us all on the recliner, her knees drawn up to her chin. She seems distant still and though she is civil to Tara, she never looks at her for more than a glance. I try to include her, to keep things light with a joke, but I just am at a loss.
Giles seems listless. Since Olivia returned to England, I can't help but feel a part of him went with her. I think it's s great he is starting to move on from Jenny. I mean, she was an amazing woman, and it was obvious Giles never really got over her death, as much as his stiff upper lip hid it. He seemed rejuvenated when Olivia was here (I met her briefly twice). She has reached him, and that's both a good thing and a bad.
Buffy doesn't really need Giles anymore. He is no longer in with The Watchers Council. He feels abandoned and lacking in purpose. I see a spark of the old Giles when we train, but I can't fan it to a flame. Maybe Olivia is his future. And that means returning to England. He hasn't said anything yet, but I can feel it hanging in the air.
I feel a weight pressing down on my heart as I look around the room, and I realise, with utter dismay what is going on.
The Scoobies are ending.
I am at the goddamn kegger.
And yes, I may have put on makeup and done something with my hair, but it isn't for Buffy. No.
And the scoop neck backless black top I have on with silver threads woven through it to catch the light isn't to impress her. I got it just to lever those juicy bar tips out from Sandy's nosey little nose, nothing more.
And sure, the bangles on my wrist compliment the silver in my top, but I didn't get them because Buffy said they would suit me. I just, yunno, though they were okay.
All coincidences and, at best, slander about my solid personal choices.
Definitely not vanity, and definitely not enjoying expressing something a little different from my usual, androgynous style. No sir.
Fuck it, I mean, I look damn hot in this. And my back muscles are just off the hook these days.
Across the room from me, Buffy and Tara know many of the people and are animatedly chatting. Well, Buffy more so than Tara, but the witch sure is coming out of her shell. Her stutter doesn't seem to be emerging tonight as she recounts a story to the amusement of a handful of psych majors. Hands wave and she makes little scenes with them to illustrate. It only just occurred to me she is drunk.
That kicks in my bar staff instinct and I vow to watch her cup and keep her topped with water. Wow, she really is a different person when she relaxes. Buffy is smiling as she listens, nodding in confirmation of Tara's story, backing her up and laughing at the appropriate times. Buffy is a fantastic wing man. Or wing ma'am. It will be great if Tara finds someone.
It would be great if we all do.
Crap. I feel lonely.
A muscular guy approaches me (what's with all the guys in this frat being just super buff?).
Shit. I take it back. Lonely is fine.
He is dressed in a tight black shirt that looks expensive and is ironed crisply. His slacks creased down the line, his shoes polished. His face is long and clean shaven, with brown skin and a close shaved head. He isn't nervous, isn't aggressive, it feels… effortless.
"Hey, I'm Forrest. You're Buffy's friend, Alexandra, right?".
"Mmm hmmm" I nod, hiding behind my big red cup. The low plunging top suddenly seems like a terrible, terrible idea. His eyes don't dip down once, which, dude I have to give major props to.
"Its great to finally get to meet you. You know, she talks very highly of you, Alexandra."
"She does? Wha… what's she say?"
"Well, for starters, It true she died once? Drowned or something?"
"Oh, yeah. Yes. True." I say. "I gave her CPR. Huh. I didn't think she remembered that."
"Oh she does. Trust me. I mean, you don't ever forget something like that."
I notice the way he leans against the wall. He is beside me, facing the same way, angled just a little towards me, but not crowding me at all, which, I mean, jesus the dude is the definition of solid and has a good 15 inches on me… well, current me.
"She trusts you with her life girl. Now I don't know about you but there are but two people I can count in this world that I could say that of."
I nod sadly, and take a long drink from my cup.
Buffy is looking at me again.
I thought I was imagining it the first time. Projecting my crush on her or something, but no. I look away for a bit, then back and there she is, looking at me with a pensive sort of expression. She looks away as soon as I catch her.
"You not a party type?" Forrest says, snapping me back into reality.
"Heh, well, you see I work in hospitality. This is all… yunno… too much like work. Only without bouncers."
"Well, that's actually not true. We got a few guys stationed around keeping an eye out. So if you get any trouble from anyone, anything at all, just gimme a nod and they are out quicker than you can blink, okay? This is Lowell House, our house, and we want you to feel safe here."
"Uh, thanks man." I say, actually touched. He smiles easy and nods, then saunters off to join a circle of people. I gotta say, this Forrest guy is smooth as all get out, and boy could I have used a few lessons from him back when I was… when I needed it.
I glance back at Buffy and she looks away again, pulling a smile to a strange girl cracking a joke.
I swallow back my beer from the ubiquitous red plastic cup and suddenly need to get me some air. I need to process what is going on. My wiring is all wiggy again, and I feel dangerously on the edge of something I can't take back.
Safely outside and the moon is full and bright. Oz is out there somewhere. I hope he is having better luck with his changes.
I weave through the party goers and find a quiet spot sitring on the railing of the porch. I nurse my empty cup and beat a slow rhythm in time with the music against the wood with my heels.
Buffy appears beside me leaning on the rail from behind.
"Hey you." Buffy says softly. "You okay?"
"Not remotely." I reply. Her hand finds the back of mine, and she effortlessly draws herself up so she is sitting beside me on the rail, but on the other side, facing back towards the party. "Everything is such a jumble up here." A skull is indicated.
"Yeah, I know that feeling." She says, but then a mischievous smile crosses her lips. "Forrest struck out, huh?"
I chuckle.
"If I am into guys, he would definitely be up the toppish end of the list."
"There's a list? Oooh. Care to share?"
"I think… I may be gay." I said.
"Gay gay boy or…?"
"Buffy, I… I like girls." I say, looking at her. "I like a girl."
Buffy blushes and squeezes my hand.
"S'funny. Of the two of us, you had the balls to say it first." A laugh. Then she takes a deep, shaky breath. "It's taken me a while to get my head around everything, how I have been feeling. I mean, you are all my best friends so it shouldn't be so hard to say but… it's been this crazy wall just sitting there. Yunno. Like, you wanna say something but..." She sucks in another breath and closes her eyes. When they open to me I feel like I catch alight. My body is tingling awake.
I know I am in love with her now.
"Xander. I like girls too. A girl. And I…"
I kiss her.
Her lips feel amazing against mine, lush warm and so, so unimaginably soft. Together it feels like velvet, like the most…
Buffy rips herself backwards, and I open my eyes to see her standing bolt upright with a shocked look on her face, she turns to Tara who is by the door holding two cups.
"Tara, I didn't… I swear..." Buffy says to Tara, hands raised, she points to me and says "she kissed me… I would never…"
Tara's face is bloodless and she looks at me in horror, then back to Buffy, who steps to her side, hands desperately grasping at the girls sleeve.
"I swear, I would never… I don't think of her like that."
Oh god, oh god.
I drop to the ground and land gracelessly, finding my feet enough to run. I am four strides on before my tears begin to flow and I feel the anger and loss and humiliation all over again. I growl and whine as I sprint, sob and scream until my legs are burning and my heart wants to hammer itself free from my ribs.
I run on. Run faster. Run harder. Run like my life was over.
I run into the darkness like it could swallow me up.
And that's when I run, blinded with tears and burning with shame, headlong into a rock solid wall of a man. A black leather duster furls about me like bat wings around a moth. That's when a vice like hand seizes my wrist, shooting white hot pain up my arm. The hand that follows clamps onto my throat so hard it cuts off my scream.
"Well, hello again Pet."
