Things That I've Lost, Ch. 4 ( X/A, Drama AU )
Title: Things That I've Lost, Ch.4: Lines
Author: Loki Fox
Pairing: Xander/Angel
Rating: FRT-13
Warning(s): Language
Feedback: Seriously? Aren't all writers feedback whores?
Summary: Xander's still down with the sickness. The boys hit a rift.
Previous chapters: found here.
A/N: Ack! Major apologize to everyone out there who's been looking forward to more in this verse. Bad bad Fox!! I promise to try to get future chapters up quicker than the gap between these last two. Thanks again to all my peeps out there who left such great feedback on the last piece, you guys are the reason I get anything up and posted at all.
~ Lines ~
“So…”
“Don’t worry.” Angel chuckles, “It’s the room at the end of the hall.”
“You know, this little trek of ours would have been a lot easier if we’d just used the elevator.” I smirk playfully. “Reyes isn’t going to like it when I tell him you put me on an expedition the same night we got back here.”
I feel that out of place warmth wiggling into my shoulder as he spins around and grabs onto me, his gaze a lance that leaves me exposed.
It’s unsettling, this concern of his. That someone of the non-willowy variety could ever look this way at me. It feels un-real, like tethers of a dream that have yet to fade. “This was dumb, I shouldn’t have dragged you up here.” He says with a voice laced with annoyance-an expression that’s not directed at me for once, but inward. I turn away from his eyes.
I don’t deserve his concern.
“Hey!” I protest as he sweeps me over his shoulder into a fireman carry. “ I was only kidding! I’m fine.” I bark out, my laughter bubbling free from my gut from the oddness of the situation. Even though I can’t see his face I know he’s smiling, and not one of those wooden-just-for-show smiles either, but an honest-to-God Angelsmile. The ones that I’m only still becoming familiar with.
I make a point to ignore the ghost of a feeling that slides down my spine as an arm pulls me closer into him. It’s too much too fast. “Put me down!” I shout, feeling suddenly wigged and unsure of myself.
“You sure?”
“Yes!” I bellow stubbornly.
He puts me down. A beat goes by as he attempts to get away with what he thinks is slyness. I narrow my eyes at the smirk he’s failing to keep in line. “You did that on purpose.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Uh-huh, I bet you don’t.” Smartass. Does he really think he can pull my own lines off on me?
“We’ve had some trouble with the elevators ever since a demon attack awhile ago.” He explains as he fingers a nasty burn mark on the wall. “Out of commission ever since.” He looks back to me, his face serious. “You sure you’re ok?”
“Huh? Oh yeah, fit as a fiddle-which doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. A fit fiddle? Is that like opposed to a wimpy fiddle? Or an overweight fiddle? And how does a fiddle become fit anyways? Fiddle boot camp?” Ohmygod, am I blushing? Why does he keep looking at me like that! “Or…ok, what I meant to say was: yes Angel, thanks for worrying but I’m feeling fine.”
Somebody please kill me.
Angel just smiles back with another smile that's new for me, the one were I can tell that he’s not really here with me anymore, but off somewhere else-with someone else.
I shake myself out of the mental fog I’ve apparently wandered into as I trot to catch back up to him at the end of the hall.
“How’d you end up here anyways?” I ask my vampy tour guide as my eyes play over the turn of warping wallpaper. Water damage?
“Huh?”
“The hotel. How’d you end up here?” I say as I draw a bit closer to him-creepy hotel halls and way too many scary movies do not a composed Xander make. “Did Faith decide her little jaunt on the dark side wasn’t full of the hi-jinks she was hoping for?”
“Faith?” His eyebrow quirks. “What does Faith have to do with the Hyperion?”
“Because the Hellmouth needs a slayer.” Apparently this is making more sense in my head than it is out loud. That little confused wrinkle of his seems to be working overtime. “Since you and Buffy are holed up here in L.A. now, I figured…”
“Me and Buffy.” He interrupts, his light mood a ghost of the rigid figure before me.
“Angel?” I venture cautiously. There’s a sudden shift in the air between us, something tangible that’s hiding under the surface. The space between us feels hot, charged. The way you can sense lightening, feel its spark on your skin and in the air just before it strikes.
“It’s nothing Xander,” he grabs my arm and begins pulling me down the hall. “Just forget about it ok?”
“What? No, Angel, just tell me!” I try to snatch my arm out of his grip but it’s like trying to bend iron.
He whirls back around to me. “There’s nothing to tell Xander, I left Sunnydale and wound up with the Hyperion because my old office burnt down. End of story.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”
He lets go of my wrist and steps away from me, his sigh deep and heavy as he rests his forehead against the wall. “Enlighten me then Xander, what are you talking about?”
I rub my wrist absentmindedly as I regard the back of his figure across from me. He looks like a bowstring that’s been pulled taut. “Where the hell is everyone Angel? Where’s Buffy? You don’t just drop guarding the Hellmouth to play Dick Tracy for the sheer hell of it.”
“It’s complicated Xander.”
“So un-complicate it for me Angel.”
He bounces off the wall and is in my face before I have time to do much of anything. His closeness makes me think of roses, hospitals, and Buffy. I draw back instinctively, but only award myself with a few inches before my back hits the wall. “Why do you always have to be like this Xander.” His breathe is hot against my face, a false intimacy. “The world doesn’t operate in nice little tones of black and white, color coded for your convenience so you can play judge and jury.”
“That’s great Angel. Thanks, you know, for opening my eyes to my disability to see between the lines. Glad we had this little talk, nothing makes me feel more at home than having you belittle me.” I can feel my knuckles turning white as I clench my fists against the sting of his barb. “But this isn’t about me, just tell…”
“Of course it’s about you!” His scream stops me short. Almost as much as the tightness of his arms that are now wrapped around me. Damn vampire speed, it be nice you know, to have a say in these type of arrangements for once. “Haven’t you got it yet? This whole thing- everything. It’s all about you Xander.”
I ignore the soft words and the look across his face as I shove him away from me. “Stop it Angel. I don’t want to hear any of this crap! Just drop all the bullshit and tell me where the hell the rest of the scoobies are and why you’re off running around playing the caped crusader in the city of angels.”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, how can you not know!?”
He begins pacing up and down the hall. “That’s just it ok! I don’t know. I don’t have any of the answers your looking for. I don’t know where any of them are.”
“But how is that…”
His eyes hold an unreadable pain as he turns to me. “None of them speak to me anymore Xander, I haven’t heard from any of them in years, not Willow, not Giles…Buffy.”
“But how?” I step closer to him, my eyes scanning his own for the answer. “Why?”
He turns away from my gaze. “I-I can’t Xander. I’m sorry, for everything, but I can’t.”
“Did, did something happen between you and Buffy?”
He doesn’t answer. “Angel, is that it? Did something happen between the two of you?”
Silence.
I try to pull him back to me, to pull him out of this stupor-it’s like trying to move stone. I let my arm fall back to my side, feeling dumb and small and all too myself.
“Hey, thanks for uh, showing me a bit of the hotel.” I choke out with false cheer. Why do I feel so off all of a sudden? This is stupid. I don’t care if Deadboy is all messed up over whatever the hell is wrong. I’ve got my own problems. I just-I just need to get out of here. “If its all the same I think I’m just gunna turn in, docs orders and all that. Night.” I turn and begin heading back.
“There is no me and Buffy, Xander.”
“Angel,” I exhale as I turn back to him, feeling suddenly tired. “We don’t have to do this. This thing. Us. I don’t want to know what’s wrong with you and Buffy this time, circa two thousand and five. I just wanna go back to bed and forget about the fact that I’m trapped in some horrible Bizarro world where you and I are bosom buddies and I’m eighteen going on twenty-five. I’m done with it Angel, just…just leave me alone.”
“Xander…” I shrug off the hand that settles over my shoulder. I can’t deal with this right now. I don’t care about whatever lovers quarrel he’s going through with Buffy. Just the thought of it…God, what’s wrong with me, this shouldn’t bother me so much. I start walking away from him faster.
He grips me firmly from behind again. “I’m sorry ok? I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
I break his hold as I twirl around, his words making me angry for some reason. “Sorry? Why would you be sorry Angel, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about. This is old news remember. My memory might be worth less than an opened Seven of Nine figurine, but even I know the lyrics to this little ditty.” I step closer to him, my eyes locked with his. “You two fight and argue, you think she’s too good for you, and she wants what you can’t give. You guys fall apart and there’s tears and crying, and probably rocky road ice cream and whatever bloody substitute you living impaired gorge on when life is sucksville.” The words flow through me, as if they’ve been bubbling at the surface-waiting for the chance to break free. “But you never stop, you never cut clean from each other, so you end up dancing around until you get back together and then the fun starts all over again. Meanwhile, everyone around the both of you goes back to either being non-existent or simply not important.” I’m only a hairs breath away from him now. It’s the first time I notice that we’re pretty much the same height. “So, you tell me Angel, what exactly do you have to be sorry for?”
He only turns his eyes downcast in answer. I smile sadly as I turn and walk away from him.
“Goodnight Angel.”
Author: Loki Fox
Pairing: Xander/Angel
Rating: FRT-13
Warning(s): Language
Feedback: Seriously? Aren't all writers feedback whores?
Summary: Xander's still down with the sickness. The boys hit a rift.
Previous chapters: found here.
A/N: Ack! Major apologize to everyone out there who's been looking forward to more in this verse. Bad bad Fox!! I promise to try to get future chapters up quicker than the gap between these last two. Thanks again to all my peeps out there who left such great feedback on the last piece, you guys are the reason I get anything up and posted at all.
~ Lines ~
“So…”
“Don’t worry.” Angel chuckles, “It’s the room at the end of the hall.”
“You know, this little trek of ours would have been a lot easier if we’d just used the elevator.” I smirk playfully. “Reyes isn’t going to like it when I tell him you put me on an expedition the same night we got back here.”
I feel that out of place warmth wiggling into my shoulder as he spins around and grabs onto me, his gaze a lance that leaves me exposed.
It’s unsettling, this concern of his. That someone of the non-willowy variety could ever look this way at me. It feels un-real, like tethers of a dream that have yet to fade. “This was dumb, I shouldn’t have dragged you up here.” He says with a voice laced with annoyance-an expression that’s not directed at me for once, but inward. I turn away from his eyes.
I don’t deserve his concern.
“Hey!” I protest as he sweeps me over his shoulder into a fireman carry. “ I was only kidding! I’m fine.” I bark out, my laughter bubbling free from my gut from the oddness of the situation. Even though I can’t see his face I know he’s smiling, and not one of those wooden-just-for-show smiles either, but an honest-to-God Angelsmile. The ones that I’m only still becoming familiar with.
I make a point to ignore the ghost of a feeling that slides down my spine as an arm pulls me closer into him. It’s too much too fast. “Put me down!” I shout, feeling suddenly wigged and unsure of myself.
“You sure?”
“Yes!” I bellow stubbornly.
He puts me down. A beat goes by as he attempts to get away with what he thinks is slyness. I narrow my eyes at the smirk he’s failing to keep in line. “You did that on purpose.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Uh-huh, I bet you don’t.” Smartass. Does he really think he can pull my own lines off on me?
“We’ve had some trouble with the elevators ever since a demon attack awhile ago.” He explains as he fingers a nasty burn mark on the wall. “Out of commission ever since.” He looks back to me, his face serious. “You sure you’re ok?”
“Huh? Oh yeah, fit as a fiddle-which doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. A fit fiddle? Is that like opposed to a wimpy fiddle? Or an overweight fiddle? And how does a fiddle become fit anyways? Fiddle boot camp?” Ohmygod, am I blushing? Why does he keep looking at me like that! “Or…ok, what I meant to say was: yes Angel, thanks for worrying but I’m feeling fine.”
Somebody please kill me.
Angel just smiles back with another smile that's new for me, the one were I can tell that he’s not really here with me anymore, but off somewhere else-with someone else.
I shake myself out of the mental fog I’ve apparently wandered into as I trot to catch back up to him at the end of the hall.
“How’d you end up here anyways?” I ask my vampy tour guide as my eyes play over the turn of warping wallpaper. Water damage?
“Huh?”
“The hotel. How’d you end up here?” I say as I draw a bit closer to him-creepy hotel halls and way too many scary movies do not a composed Xander make. “Did Faith decide her little jaunt on the dark side wasn’t full of the hi-jinks she was hoping for?”
“Faith?” His eyebrow quirks. “What does Faith have to do with the Hyperion?”
“Because the Hellmouth needs a slayer.” Apparently this is making more sense in my head than it is out loud. That little confused wrinkle of his seems to be working overtime. “Since you and Buffy are holed up here in L.A. now, I figured…”
“Me and Buffy.” He interrupts, his light mood a ghost of the rigid figure before me.
“Angel?” I venture cautiously. There’s a sudden shift in the air between us, something tangible that’s hiding under the surface. The space between us feels hot, charged. The way you can sense lightening, feel its spark on your skin and in the air just before it strikes.
“It’s nothing Xander,” he grabs my arm and begins pulling me down the hall. “Just forget about it ok?”
“What? No, Angel, just tell me!” I try to snatch my arm out of his grip but it’s like trying to bend iron.
He whirls back around to me. “There’s nothing to tell Xander, I left Sunnydale and wound up with the Hyperion because my old office burnt down. End of story.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”
He lets go of my wrist and steps away from me, his sigh deep and heavy as he rests his forehead against the wall. “Enlighten me then Xander, what are you talking about?”
I rub my wrist absentmindedly as I regard the back of his figure across from me. He looks like a bowstring that’s been pulled taut. “Where the hell is everyone Angel? Where’s Buffy? You don’t just drop guarding the Hellmouth to play Dick Tracy for the sheer hell of it.”
“It’s complicated Xander.”
“So un-complicate it for me Angel.”
He bounces off the wall and is in my face before I have time to do much of anything. His closeness makes me think of roses, hospitals, and Buffy. I draw back instinctively, but only award myself with a few inches before my back hits the wall. “Why do you always have to be like this Xander.” His breathe is hot against my face, a false intimacy. “The world doesn’t operate in nice little tones of black and white, color coded for your convenience so you can play judge and jury.”
“That’s great Angel. Thanks, you know, for opening my eyes to my disability to see between the lines. Glad we had this little talk, nothing makes me feel more at home than having you belittle me.” I can feel my knuckles turning white as I clench my fists against the sting of his barb. “But this isn’t about me, just tell…”
“Of course it’s about you!” His scream stops me short. Almost as much as the tightness of his arms that are now wrapped around me. Damn vampire speed, it be nice you know, to have a say in these type of arrangements for once. “Haven’t you got it yet? This whole thing- everything. It’s all about you Xander.”
I ignore the soft words and the look across his face as I shove him away from me. “Stop it Angel. I don’t want to hear any of this crap! Just drop all the bullshit and tell me where the hell the rest of the scoobies are and why you’re off running around playing the caped crusader in the city of angels.”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, how can you not know!?”
He begins pacing up and down the hall. “That’s just it ok! I don’t know. I don’t have any of the answers your looking for. I don’t know where any of them are.”
“But how is that…”
His eyes hold an unreadable pain as he turns to me. “None of them speak to me anymore Xander, I haven’t heard from any of them in years, not Willow, not Giles…Buffy.”
“But how?” I step closer to him, my eyes scanning his own for the answer. “Why?”
He turns away from my gaze. “I-I can’t Xander. I’m sorry, for everything, but I can’t.”
“Did, did something happen between you and Buffy?”
He doesn’t answer. “Angel, is that it? Did something happen between the two of you?”
Silence.
I try to pull him back to me, to pull him out of this stupor-it’s like trying to move stone. I let my arm fall back to my side, feeling dumb and small and all too myself.
“Hey, thanks for uh, showing me a bit of the hotel.” I choke out with false cheer. Why do I feel so off all of a sudden? This is stupid. I don’t care if Deadboy is all messed up over whatever the hell is wrong. I’ve got my own problems. I just-I just need to get out of here. “If its all the same I think I’m just gunna turn in, docs orders and all that. Night.” I turn and begin heading back.
“There is no me and Buffy, Xander.”
“Angel,” I exhale as I turn back to him, feeling suddenly tired. “We don’t have to do this. This thing. Us. I don’t want to know what’s wrong with you and Buffy this time, circa two thousand and five. I just wanna go back to bed and forget about the fact that I’m trapped in some horrible Bizarro world where you and I are bosom buddies and I’m eighteen going on twenty-five. I’m done with it Angel, just…just leave me alone.”
“Xander…” I shrug off the hand that settles over my shoulder. I can’t deal with this right now. I don’t care about whatever lovers quarrel he’s going through with Buffy. Just the thought of it…God, what’s wrong with me, this shouldn’t bother me so much. I start walking away from him faster.
He grips me firmly from behind again. “I’m sorry ok? I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
I break his hold as I twirl around, his words making me angry for some reason. “Sorry? Why would you be sorry Angel, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about. This is old news remember. My memory might be worth less than an opened Seven of Nine figurine, but even I know the lyrics to this little ditty.” I step closer to him, my eyes locked with his. “You two fight and argue, you think she’s too good for you, and she wants what you can’t give. You guys fall apart and there’s tears and crying, and probably rocky road ice cream and whatever bloody substitute you living impaired gorge on when life is sucksville.” The words flow through me, as if they’ve been bubbling at the surface-waiting for the chance to break free. “But you never stop, you never cut clean from each other, so you end up dancing around until you get back together and then the fun starts all over again. Meanwhile, everyone around the both of you goes back to either being non-existent or simply not important.” I’m only a hairs breath away from him now. It’s the first time I notice that we’re pretty much the same height. “So, you tell me Angel, what exactly do you have to be sorry for?”
He only turns his eyes downcast in answer. I smile sadly as I turn and walk away from him.
“Goodnight Angel.”