WARNING: m/m sexual activity. Adult language. Story is generally
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.
The house was deathly quiet, all the occupants sound asleep but one.
Wesley's mind was running on the little pink battery bunny and would
not shut off. He prowled silently through the Council owned
residence restlessly, marveling at it's opulance. Each room was
perfectly decorated and could easily have been in an issue of
Elegant Homes magazine.
He picked up perfectly selected nick nacks, chosen for their
matching or contrasting color to the decor, then set them back
down. He walked from room to room running his hands across
the backs of the rich fabrics and pausing to examine the seemingly
expensive reproductions of art hanging on the walls.
It was all flawless. It was all perfect. It was completely cold
and impersonal. Wesley puffed up at the falseness of it all.
He couldn't be impressed by such trappings. He was, after all,
a rogue demon hunter.
He was much more at home in humble surroundings. A small, cozy
apartment filled with love and.......no. Wesley stopped himself
before the familiar feelings of lonlyness and homesickness could take over.
He immediately returned his attention to the contrast of the past years.
He knew life at it's harshest. He had roamed the dark alleys of
the big city. He had stood bravely against the demons of the
universe and won. He had let a master vampire fuck him up
the ass. Repeatedly.
With defiance and raw courage, he marched, barefoot, into the
formal dinning room and moved several of the rare Capidomonte
flowers out of place, leaving them awkwardly scattered.
Wes stepped back and grinned evilly with his hands on his hips.
"HA! Not so perfect now, are you?"
Deciding a cup of tea would hit the spot, Wes headed for the gourmet
kitchen, stopping only long enough to hustle back and return the flowers
to their measured arrangement.
Wes sighed, 'Ah, yes,' He thought. 'Leopards and spots.'
He continued on to make himself a cup of whatever tea they had stocked.
No doubt it would be exactly what he himself would have chosen.
Given a choice, he would much rather be tucked in bed, sound asleep
but it would seem he would have to be content with the short nap
he took on the flight over because now that they were here, his
mind was on full speed ahead. He settled in the little breakfast nook
and, with a yawn, rested his head on his hand.
The kitchen door burst open nearly causing Wes to topple from off his
chair. Only then did he realize he had fallen asleep, head on his folded
arms and tea, cold and forgotten. He looked at the kitchen clock and
saw that nearly three hours had passed.
"Wes? Surley you haven't been here all day have you? We really do
need to be rested and alert for the situation at hand."
Giles sat at the table while Andrew, looking very relazed and satisfied,
hustled about making the Watcher tea and toast, exactly the way he
Wes blinked. His brain cried as his sleepy eyes struggled not to do the
same. He was so tired his vision was unfocused and his hair wild and
"No, no. I'm very rested, thank you. I just need a quick shower to
revitalize and I will be more than ready."
Again the door swung open and Willow headed straight for the fridge and
a carton of orange juice she knew would be waiting for her.
"Gesh, Wes, you look like hell. My bed was great, wasn't yours?
Hey aren't those the clothes you were wearing this morning? You
didn't sleep in your clothes did you?"
All eyes turned in Wes's direction and waited on the expected exlpaination.
"I do believe we are here on a very serious matter and it does not concern
my attire. Now, as the sun is about to set I suggest we turn our attention
to the problem at hand. I have Angel's cell phone number, I think we
need to call him and have him contact Spike to meet and update us.
We then need to decide how we go about confronting Xander."
Willow sipped her juice thoughtfully.
"Wow, I can't wait to see Xan. I've missed him so much and, Spike, how
wierd is that going to be? We all thought Spike had succumbed to the
final barbeque back in the fall of the hellmouth. I was shocked when
Angel said he was back. What's he been up to, Wes?"
Wesley was busy trying to flatten the wild tufts of hair he could feel sticking up.
"Not much. After we all barely survived the final battle of Wolfram and Hart,
he has just been sluffing about. He helps Angel on demon cases and he drinks.
That pretty much covers it. I can't say that we became tight mates while I
was there but we did, I believe, share a mutual respect for each other."
Apparently the diversion tactic worked as everyone at the table immediately
forgot about the inconsistancies that were Wes and again focused on the
issue at hand.
Everyone sat around the table and waited. Finally, Giles voiced what
they were all thinking.
"We are going to have to consider the possibility that Xander will not
want to see us. Unfortunatly, he is going to have to. We are certain
that he is somehow involved and apparently summoned the demon
himself for whatever reason. If we are to dispatch this demon, we are
going to have to do it through Xander."
The others nodded, deep in their own thoughts.
Finally, Andrew efficiently took over and came up with a suggestion they all
could live with.
"I'll call. I'll arrange with Angel to contact Spike. Spike will have to
get Xander here without telling him why. That way we can talk to him
before he has a chance to get away. It's sneaky but sometimes we have
to do what we have to do. Everyone agree?"
Willow sadly hung her head but agreed. It wasn't the loving reunion she
had always envisioned. Wes smiled. He looked forward to seeing
Spike and maybe asking how the caveprick was doing.
Not that he cared. Well, he conceded, maybe a little.
Giles beamed with pride at Andrew's solution. He squeezed the young
man's knee under the table.
Andrew blushed and hardened, delighted and proud.
The four quickly set their plan into motion, giving Andrew the number
to Angel's office cell phone in L.A. They then sat quietly and waited.
ring ring ri.....
"Angel? Did we wake you? Andrew here."
"Rupert Giles assistant. From the Council. From London. I
work with Wesley."
"WESLEY? Why the fuck didn't you say so? Is Wes here? Did
he come over like I said we needed?"
Andrew glanced at the phone. Did Angel want them in LA?
He shook his head, confused, and put it back to his ear.
"Angel, we are all here in Oxnard. We understood Spike was here and had
contacted Xander Harris. The reason I'm calling is that I don't have a
separate number for Spike. Would you call him and tell him to bring
Xander over here to the Council house to meet with us? And, Angel,
we feel it would be better if Spike didn't tell him anything before hand."
"Oh, sure, I can do that. So Wes is there too? I mean yeah, you said
he was so, it's not important, I just wondered. Right, I'll have that little
shit round up Harris and haul him right over."
Angel had decided that it might be better if Wes thought he was still in
LA. That way he could sneak up on Wes while everyone else was sneaking
up on Harris. It was perfect. Angel smirked and he puffed up with pride.
He was the very defination of covert.
He was more than CIA.
He was better than FBI
He was hotter than GQ
He was horny as HELL!