Warnings: A bit of Het ahead.
He stalked his prey through the jungle, sidling up past others who hungered for what was his. He needed to break her away from her herd, needed to get her by herself, alone, helpless.
He watched for enemies, keeping his senses tuned for possible trouble. He checked his six, then swiftly planted the false information that would lead to a successful mission. If the enemy took the bait.
"Did you hear about the big sale at the mall, too bad its only til noon."
The sheep left quickly, scattering to the winds at the prospect of a deal. He watched them for a moment before he reached out a hand.
He pulled Cordelia into a nearby closet. He breathed in the scent of her and then struck, licking up the side of her neck. He captured her mouth and kissed her long and hard. His hands traced patterns down her spine while his tongue teased, delved, and parried inside her warm mouth. After a few moments they broke away, and as she panted, head swimming, he nipped and licked and nuzzled her neck, until her pants turned to a low moan.
"God, Xander, what's got into you to-Oh yeah right there-day?" She asked, as he slid his hands; one down to cup her left ass cheek, the other up and around to fondle her right breast. She opened her mouth to ask again when he stroked his thumb across her nipple, teasing it until it was rock hard. Instead of words she moaned and pulled his mouth back to hers.
It was another two minutes of Heaven before the door flew open and Principal Snyder grabbed a hold of Cordelia's arm to pull them out into the hall. Her tiny gasp of pain from the tight grip on her arm was enough to jettison Xander into action. He grabbed the front of the pint size troll's shirt then slammed him into the wall across the hall, a feral snarl on his face.
"No one touches my pack without permission, and no one touches my mate ever!" He snarled inches from Snyder's face. The principal was frozen, his face a mask of fear. "Look in her direction ever again and I'll poke out your eyes, touch her again and I'll take your hands as a trophy. Are we clear?"
The sudden smell of urine was the only answer.
He dropped the principal and moved away in disgust. He walked back to Cordelia, raised her shirt sleeve, and kissed the slight red mark on her arm. That done he put his arm around her and led the stunned girl away from the spectacle.
"Come on, let's get you to class. I have a history test to fail this period and I wouldn't want to be late." He told her, with his everyday Xander type smile.
All she could do was let herself be led to class.
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Buffy Summer's was having a weird day.
Just about every adult she knew was acting like responsibility took a flying leap off a very short pier. Including Giles. Nothing short of a concussion diverted Giles from responsibility. Make that a concussion, several prescription pain relievers, and threats of a worried slayer.
He blew off work, he blew off training. She couldn't even claim that was a sign of an impending Apocalypse, cause 'Duh' that would mean he would be in the library LOOKING THINGS UP. She was bound and determined to get to the way wiggy bottom of things.
Unfortunately, things didn't work out as planned.
She walked down the deserted hallway and suddenly found herself right off into deja vu land. Xander had popped in out of nowhere, and began circling her. His nostrils flared and a low growl was coming from his throat.
'Oh shit hyena!' Her mind dropped back to the botched mating from before and she prepared herself for an attack, one part of her mind already contemplating how to subdue him without hurting him... too much. Her whole body dropped into battle mode.
Instead of attacking, he asked a question, "So how long has Deadboy been back from Hell?"
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Xander had been having a terrific day, despite its rather confusing beginning. His test had been called on account of apathy, his mate was impressed with his display of virility this morning, once she confirmed that no one else had seen it, of course. And best of all, two afternoon teachers were no shows, leaving him still more time with his pack. A little Willow babble, a little zen from Oz, and a little skipping study hall to make out with his mate, made for one content Xander. The only things missing were Giles, who apparently played hookie too, and Buffy, who he seemed to keep missing.
He had walked Cordelia to practice, and was on his way home when he caught the scent of something that screamed 'danger to the pack', and he turned to track it down. Two corridors later he had found the danger, and it's scent was all over his wayward pack mate. He was fairly sure of the scent, but she'd washed afterward, he trailed around her wanting to be sure, and to be in control, before he said anything.
His nose automatically categorized and organized the smells coming off of her; The lilac scent she'd bathed with, the toothpaste she'd used, below it all the siren's song that was her own unique scent, it reminded him of dandelions and sunshine. Ghosting over top of that were traces of the danger. Traces of longing and traces of him.
If this had been the Xander Harris of a week before, there would be jealousy, and there would be yelling. But Xander Harris wasn't the same any longer. The soldier was whispering from one side of his head, the hyena the other. Tactics and pack. Coming together to protect what was his. While his brain whirled and clicked, his two old halves debating and planning, he asked a simple question.
"So how long has Deadboy been back from Hell?"
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Buffy just gaped at him for a moment or three, before the slayer roused her stunned brain back onto the defensive. Something wasn't right with Xander, and him knowing about Angel didn't change things. Hell it would probably make them worse, if he wanted the same things he did before. Her natural reaction was to deny. "He's not."
It was the wrong move.
Before she could blink, and even before the slayer registered his movement properly, she found herself pinned against the wall. The eyes that bore into her flashed green once before reverting to their natural brown state, but any warmth they normally held for her was gone, suppressed by shear force of will on his part.
"We do not lie to the pack, Buffy. I can smell him on you. Tell me the truth and I'll tell you one right back."
She tried to break lose from his grip. He wasn't actually hurting her, yet, but she found his grip was unmovable, and her eyes widened just a fraction in shock before deciding this might be a good time to answer. "He's back." Xander seemed satisfied by her admission and loosened his grip on her slightly.
"You're not going to like this, but you need to know now before it cuts you further from the pack. I lied the night you sent him to Hell. I knew Willow was doing the spell, but I didn't know if she could do it, or if she would have time before he killed you and sucked the world into Hell. I couldn't let you fight him with hope in your heart. It would have killed us all."
The rage in her eyes bore into him, her anger too great for words alone she struggled in his grip, a growl pulled out of her to match his own.
He held her tight and forced her to listen as he went on. "I did what I had to to protect the pack, to protect you. Just like you lied to protect your mate. Either we both did the right thing or neither of us did, but right or wrong it's done now, and we need to deal with it. Where is Angel, we need to talk."
"You mean you need to kill him, right? Put the dangerous vampire down, or send him back to Hell?"
For the first time he showed true anger towards her, his eyes flashing green again, and staying there this time as he spoke in a guttural growl. "Angel is pack, we do not harm the pack."
"Right cause you guys were so buddy buddy before, so now he's part of your pack? What the hell with a side of yeah right."
Xander spoke slowly as if explaining to a wayward child. "You are pack. He is your mate. You love him, that makes him pack. We do not harm the pack."
Buffy stared at him, a shocked look on her face.
After a moment he released her, then asked again. "Where is he, we need to talk."
She found herself answering this time. "He's at the mansion."
"Good, let's go."