bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,

Night Terrors

TITLE: Night Terrors
WARNING: m/m sexual activity. Adult language. Story is generally
not worksafe.
SUMMARY: 10 Years after the fall of Sunnydale, Xander has
distanced himself from his past life until a demon forces him to look
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing including the characters and products
named in this story. I do, however own an unused treadmill. If you
want to sue for that, help yourself.

Thanks to the wonderful Petxnd for the excellent banner.

ring ring rin.....

"Hello? Angel Investigations. We help the he......."
"Can it, Poof. It's me."
"Of course Spike, you moron. Who the hell else calls you Poof?"
"Well, Wesley did say........never mind! What the hell did you find out?
Is the case solved? Demon killed?"

"Not exactly. I found the whelp."
"The what?"
"The boy.?"
"What boy?"
"Xander Fucking Harris, you fuckin' idiot!"

Angel sighed. He hated trying to deal with Spike. Why couldn't
his damn childe just shut up and bend over? Unlife would be so
much simpler.
"Oh, so he's alive?"

Spike clenched his fists and ground his teeth together.
"Yes, Angel, Xander Harris is alive and kicking, although to be honest
if I hadn't seen him close up, I could have probably passed him on
the street and never known him. Ain't no boy anymore. Nope,
the Slayer's foot soldier has grown up VERY nicely. All firm,
hard muscles and haired over."

Spike heard Angel suck his lungs full of unneeded air and slowly
blow it back out.
"Did you see it? His hard, hairy body?"
"JESUS FUCKIN' CHRIST, Angel! Put it away!"

"Huh? Hey, I resent that remark! Anyway, so you found him but
you didn't get the demon right? O.k. Good. Fine. I, um, kind
of have my hands full right now. I'll have a blood delivery sent
to your hotel. Call me when you know anything. Bye."

Spike blinked. The only time Angel hung up that fast was when
he was.....
"Damn! Poof and I have more sex when I'm gone than when
I'm there!"

ring ring ri.....

"Good Morning. Council Headquarters. How may I direct your call?"
The voice was clear, crisp, feminine, and all business.

"Good morning. This is Angel of Angel Investigations. We help the
"Oh, well, that's lovely Mr. Angel. Who did you wish to speak to?"
"Is Gil......NO! Mr. Wyndham-Pryce. I was told to deal exclusively
with Wesley. Is he in?"
"Yes, Sir, I believe he is. Please hold."

Angel gripped the receiver of the phone so tightly he felt the plastic
crack. He switched his weight repeatedly from one foot to the other
while the strains of "Muskrat Love" entertained him. Before long he
caught himself dancing to the catchy tune.

"Wyndham-Pryce here, how may I help you?"

Angel's only answer was silence. He waited. When he was beginning
to think both Wesley AND the muskrats had hung up on him, he
heard the Englishman clear his throat.

"Ahem. Yes, Angel, it's me. Why are you calling? Is this in regard
to Oxnard? I understood you were dealing directly with Rupert."
"Oh, no, Giles said I should work through you. So, um, how are you
doing, Wes?"
"What do you have to report, Angel? Have you contacted Xander?
Have you gotten any information on the demon at work there?"

"Oh, sure, strictly business. I can do business. Yes, I sent Spike. He
has spoken to Harris and he is fine. So far he has been unable to locate
and dispatch the demon but he will stay on the job until he does."
"That's fine, Angel. I will pass on the information and we sincerely hope
this matter can be resolved expeditiously."

Angel whimpered.
"Fuck, Wes, you know it always turned me on when you talk smart.
Please, Wes, can't you just come home so we can talk?"

"Angel! I can't do this with you. We can't keep rehashing the same
old arguments and neither of us is prepared to compromise, so if we
can't keep this on a professional level, you will have to deal with one
of the other Watchers."

"Yeah, I mean, no. Sorry, I'll keep it on the up and up. Look, Wes,
I kinda got my hands full right now. I'll call tomorrow with an update.

Wes frowned. The only time Angel hung up that fast was........
"DAMN. Fucking Vampire will never change!"

Kim had spent the rest of the evening with one eye on the business
and the other eye on the office door. Neither one seemed to be showing
much activity tonight. Week days were usually slow and after making
the executive decision to close a half hour early, the club cleared
out quickly.

tap tap tap

"Xan? We're closed. You need a lift home?"
"Door's open. Come on in."

Kim tried the knob and was relieved when it turned easily. He stepped
in and was shocked at the look of his friend. Xander's face was pale and
sickly looking. His eyes, red and puffy.

"Shit, Xander what is it? Who was that guy? Do you know him?"
Kim and Xander both knew it was time for some answers, some
honesty. Xander nodded at the chair across from where he sat
behind his desk.

"What do you know about me?"
Kim was surprised. It wasn't what he expected, but he could tell by
the look on Xander face that he really wanted an answer, so Kim gave it
a minutes thought, then spoke, slowly and with much consideration.

"O.k. I know you are a smart business man but I don't think you
have a college degree. I know you are gay and comfortable with it.
I think you are early thirties, one or two, and I know you are very
health conscience. Just from hints dropped, I think your family and
maybe your friends all died in the great quake of Sunnydale. If so,
I can understand why you have cut off your past. The only thing I
know positively is that you are a good man and the best friend I have
ever had."

Xander sat quietly, nodding and listening to Kim talk. He was right
on every point but one. He knew he was not a good man.
"My parents did die there. I tried to get them to leave but they were
too drunk to listen. I knew what was coming but they didn't believe
me so they died."

Kim reached over and placed his hand on Xander's.
"Christ, Xan, I'm sorry, but an earthquake and sink hole certainly aren't
your fault. How could you have known?"

Xander ignored the question and went on with his explanation.
"So my family died and that's where I got the money to buy this place.
Insurance. Government hush money. Buckets of it. All paid off on
the bodies of my family. My friends were another story. They knew
too and most survived with me. At the last second we all escaped
together. Bloody, beaten, and barely half alive, we all boarded
a bus and got out. All except two."

Kim released Xander's hand and sat back, frowning, confused.
"So where are they? For as long as I've known you, you have been
alone. Where are these friends of your's and how the hell could they
just turn their backs on you?"

Xander snorted and put his head in his hands.
"They didn't. I did. They all returned to London and I ran away the
night before we were to go. I just couldn't be that Xander Harris
anymore. I had lived a lie for so long..........pretending to be brave.
Pretending to be straight. Just.......pretending. I couldn't go on.
I knew what they expected and I couldn't face the horrors any more.
Over the past ten years I have blocked it all out so well, it almost
seemed like a bad dream."

Kim wanted to ask 'what horrors?' He wanted to understand what
his friend was so afraid of.

"You said two people didn't escape. Who were they?"

Xander rubbed his hands over his face and another round of tears
threatened to fall.

"Anya, the woman I was set to marry. Actually, the woman I left
standing at the alter."

Kim was dumbfounded. Xander was the last person he would have
thought would play straight.
"And the other?"

Xander took a deep breath and looked his friend in the eye, praying
that despite the illogic of it, that his friend would believe.

"The other one that I watched die that night was Spike, the man you
met here tonight."

Kim sat there silently. How ever much of the story he did or didn't believe
was irrelevant. He had absolute faith in Xander and nothing else mattered.
"I think you need this."
Reaching into his pocket, Kim pulled out the business card and dropped
it on the desk.

Xander picked it up, reading both the front and back and snorted.
"Fucking Angel. Figures."
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