Drowning Not Waving - Chapter Eight - S/X Adult
Please make us and you happy and read the warnings if this is your first time here! :)
Warnings: This is a story in which Xander's not being the best he can be. It's human horror. Dare we say it ?- it's dark. There's explicit sex and drugs and addiction, cowardice, grit, the porn industry and people behaving badly, blind eyes and Xander exploitation and enabling, good intentions, funny moments, a chip, evil, soulless and atavistic Spike and a baby. And almost everybody lives happily ever after in the last chapter.
It really was a holiday, and it really was a week. A week of a sort of red-spangled, tingly-hot nothing that was also...everything. Endless hours in their room, distant sound of traffic and sirens - Spike talking about this or that or - something. Mostly Xander didn't listen, or if he did it was kind of confusing. Spike talking about 'scenes' and cages and...something. Mostly he just took Spike deeper down his throat - into his body - closed his eyes and let himself sink. The bites Spike left on his body seemed to heal unnaturally fast.
Spike would go out and Xander would sleep, or wander downstairs. Odd times of the day and night but there was always somebody around. He'd see Angel or Wes, doing something with weapons or big books or papers - talking in low, intense voices about stuff he was pretty sure he didn't need to care about. But it was peaceful when he helped out, cleaning weapons he didn't have to use while their voices buzzed around him. Or he'd see Cordy with the baby and most of the time his first stuttering thought was *They look happy* and then he'd remember he was supposed to look that kind of happy too.
Remember and force his brain into Daddy-mode and grin and admire the outfit Cordy had him dressed in, or agreeing that he looked just great. And - he did. They did. And behind the padded wall of whatever Spike was giving him, there was no panic.
And when Cordy asked about his shots and Xander blanked for a minute and then said that the mom had been anti-vaccination so he hadn't gotten them yet but yeah, yeah, they were really important. And Cordy needed the baby's birth certificate and so Xander had dug it out of his duffel, vainly trying to smooth the creases out and letting it go made him feel - lighter. Spike had looked over his shoulder, reading, then snorted in amusement and yanked him back down into himself.
"What?"
"His name's Julian Crane?"
"Yeah. She named him."
"Daft cow. That's that bloke from Passions." Xander had seen enough Passions in the last week to know it was some weird soap opera, but he couldn't keep the characters straight and usually tuned out when Spike watched. Jacked off or gave Spike a blow job or picked out the prettiest of the pills in Spike's ever-present rainbow assortment and took one or two. Life - was definitely a cabaret.
Or a funhouse.
A cabaret in a funhouse that was easier to live in when he didn't expect anything.
Just let things happen.
Which wasn't a whole lot different from his life in Sunnydale only with less demon goo and a lot more sex.
And every time he saw Cordy, she seemed less eager to give Julian back and there were fewer awkward silences and conversations that danced around questions Xander wasn't ready to answer.
Xander was okay with that too and he felt lighter.
And lighter.
Like pretty soon, he'd float away.
And it'd be okay because Cordy had Julian.
"Dennis loves him. He's been a sweetheart - okay, he's always a sweetheart but more when Julian's in the apartment," Cordy explained, shuffling papers with Julian against her chest in a baby carrier.
A designer baby carrier.
And Julian mostly closed his eyes and slept in it and looked like he belonged there.
"So who's Dennis?" Xander wondered if the skin on Julian's foot had been that soft when he had Julian or if Cordy had worked some kind of girly magic there too.
"Her ghost," Wes said and Xander tried not to jump because he never noticed Wes entering a room.
He hadn't noticed Gunn come in either. Not till he spoke. "Phantom Dennis," he said and ignored Wes' dirty look. "Gotta be the Phantom Dennis."
The grin came easily and Xander pulled his hand away from the baby when Gunn got close and he felt a little pulse of guilt because Gunn always looked at him like he knew things.
Knew but wasn't gonna out him unless Xander got out of line.
Xander was so not gonna get out of line. "Is he a menace?"
"Not anymore. Our Cordy's got a knack for taming the beast." Gunn leaned over and plucked Julian out of the carrier and gave him a bounce. "Take this little man. A weekend with Queen C and he's a little prince."
"Spoiled rotten."
Cordelia hit Wes - what looked like hard. Xander knew she hit hard. Distantly. "Hey! He's well cared for. That's all. All the comforts of life." And she smiled at him and rocked Julian and a tense spot between Xander's shoulder blades loosened.
And Xander twisted his hands on one of Angel's business cards, shredding it around the edges and trying to think of a way to ask 'will you keep him?' that didn't sound like running away.
Even if she might let him.
Some time later Xander was stripping the sheets off the bed. Spike had told him he had to go out and do some things and why didn't he clean up a little? And here, better take this. Xander took the pill off Spike's tongue - because there's no way he was gonna turn down the tongue or the pill and together they were pretty much a done deal - and drank some Tang after and watched Spike get dressed and swing that black coat onto his shoulders, becoming - someone else.
Bad guy in monochrome, complete with smoldering cigarette and stare that'd make Dirty Harry wet his pants.
So he'd become someone else too - cabana boy in the city - and bundled up all the laundry into the middle of the bed and then noticed there were ashes on the sink in the bathroom. He'd found cleaning stuff - he suspected Cordelia - and cleaned the sink. Cleaned the shower and the floor and then the floor in the kitchen and his heart was ticking along like a rabbit on speed - thumpity-thumpity-thump. For all he knew, it was speed. Fast enough to make him a little breathless and he'd scrubbed the 'fridge until it gleamed. There wasn't a vacuum, though, so he'd picked the little bits off the carpet by hand. Until he got to the bed and noticed the stains of rust-red blood on the sheet and then that had to go and like - now.
Spike had said there were machines in the basement, and soap, so Xander bundled it all up and headed out and nearly ran head-first into Angel in the hall.
Big. Broody. Extra-glowery.
And if Xander's heart could've beat faster it would've but at this point it was pretty redundant.
"Xander," Angel said, and Xander clutched at the sheets and tried not to get a kinda goofy grin when Angel's nostrils flared and a sparkle of gold chased the brown from his eyes for a moment. Xander watched him swallow and lick his lips.
He didn't back up.
He was really proud of not backing up.
Or maybe stupid.
Stupid or stoned or high or whatever this cocktail was called.
"Hey - Deadboy," Xander said, but Angel didn't seem to hear him. But he did keep sniffing and that was getting wiggy and Xander realized he was shuffling from foot to foot.
Not backing up.
But shuffling from foot to foot and clenching and unclenching his hands in the bedding.
"You know, just 'cause Spike has the chip in his head doesn't mean you can trust him," Angel said, and sounded really casual and part of Xander's brain remembered that casual Angel was bad. Casual Angel was getting his Angelus on and he reconsidered the backing up thing. "That'd be stupid."
And settled on the standing his ground and mouthing off thing. The usual. "Does a stupid young man coast through High School on a sweet D-minus?"
"Does a smart young man follow vampires into the dark alleys of the human soul?" Which pretty much swung the pendulum back toward the less 'us-y side of Angel.
And was not exactly what Xander expected him to say.
"Not dark here. Got plenty of light," and he really needed to rethink that whole mouthing off strategy because Angel was way too close and still doing that sniffy thing.
The kind of sniffy thing Xander did while cookies were baking.
"You should lie out in the sun more." Angel said while backing away - and he didn't sound nearly as champion of the good as he used to and that made Xander kinda want to get out of there faster because - not stupid. "You're getting pale." And because he wasn't stupid, he didn't turn his back on Angel either.
Not stupid.
Not stupid and if his heart beat any faster, things were gonna get messy.
And the only remedy Xander had on hand was the zen of laundry.
It was time to do laundry.
Xander really wanted to do laundry.
And if he was lucky, there'd be a really stubborn stain he could concentrate on long enough to unwig his brain and convince himself Angel's soul was stuck on tight.
It was still weird walking through Angel's hotel barefoot with a load of bedding that reeked of sex and blood but hey - Xander could do weird.
"Hey, Gunn." Xander shrugged a shoulder in lieu of waving at the guy behind the counter and pushed open the door with his hip. It was latched. He was struggling with it when a hand reached around him and popped the door open - then, bless that hand, kept Xander from going head first down the stairs when he tripped over his own feet and stumbled.
"Hey," Gunn said and dropped his hand. He didn't step back though and Xander clutched the laundry closer to him, getting a not so fresh puff of air in his face for the trouble. "Moonlighting as Angel's maid service?"
"Uh - " Whatever was making his heart trip and jump in his chest was slowing the thinky parts of his brain down and a slow quip was a dead quip. Xander settled on, "he couldn't afford me," which might or might not have been true.
Angel had bought the Hyperion.
He could probably buy Xander too.
Boy would that be a purchase he'd live to regret.
"So Wes says you're Julian's daddy." Gunn was following him down the stairs and into the basement and it was okay because with Gunn there, things like soap and fabric softener appeared in front of Xander effortlessly. And Gunn knew and that meant Xander didn't have to pretend. Or worry he knew. He could assume Gunn knew.
He could also assume Gunn wouldn't hesitate to drive a stake through Angelus' heart if the big unsouled guy decided to make an appearance.
Xander liked Gunn.
"That's what his mom told me." And a test with 99.99% accuracy had confirmed.
"Cute kid."
"Thanks," Xander said because that's what you say when a guy says your kid is cute. And Gunn was right. The kid was cute when he wasn't crying, wailing, or giving Xander those accusatory looks which pretty much meant he was cute with Cordy. He set the machine, slammed the lid down and drummed his fingers on it.
"So why's Cordelia raising him for you?"
Xander kept drumming his fingers and licked his lips because this was the big essay question. The one with no right answer. "I'm - um - getting my life together. Making some cash. Pulling myself up by the bootstraps." Naked invisible bootstraps and who said a metaphor needed to be logical?
"Doin' Spike?" Gunn leaned against a dryer and looked him over and Xander was pretty glad he'd showered.
Recently.
"Hey, teenaged and horny, here."
"Yeah, been there, done that. Teenaged, horny and stupid." And there was that stupid thing again. Gunn'd be surprised the kinds of stupid Xander was and wasn't. "Spike's a vampire, Xander."
"So's Angel. Pick your vampires with care, I always say." His vampire was fine. His life was fine. Just fine.
Thanks.
Really.
*'Yeah, that's it, open wide, c'mon, you can take two...yeah, move that sweet cherry ass...got four more after this, don't even think about touching yourself, little boy...*
Xander shook his head, staring down at the set of moldering tablecloths and napkins that filled one water stained box - jumped and jerked around when Gunn put a hand on his back and didn't move away when Xander backed up right into the table, gripping the edges and whatever Spike gave him he was never taking again because everything was starting to look bigger, and freakier and Xander didn't know what was coming just that it was bad and he was way, way too exposed right here.
"Yes! Uh - no. What?"
"Feelin' all right, Xander?" Gunn was looking him over again - sniffing him - and what was up with that lately? Taking one of his arms and looking it over on the inside before Xander picked up on the what and the why and snatched it back.
Looked away.
"Yeah. Yeah - fine - gotta switch to decaf. I think I need to get back upstairs and finish cleaning up and - and uh find out where the spare sheets live."
"That shit'll kill you." Gunn said, because he knew and Xander was okay with the knowing but less with the talking and when he let Xander jitter past him he didn't let him jitter all the way.
Xander licked his lips and didn't turn around and scrubbed his palm against the thigh of his pants and tried hard - really really hard to project harmless kid.
"I figure you oughta know me and Wes know what you guys get up to. So's Angel but he doesn't care. Cordy's the only one who doesn't think you're fucked up and Wes doesn't think it's a good idea to tell her. You don't wanna be giving me a reason to tell her." Gunn didn't sound - angry or threatening or mean, just like Gunn - and when he leaned in and Xander leaned away because Gunn was too close and he was too jittery and Gunn kept talking. "You're wasted, Xander and you best believe I know wasted when I see it. Now I'm not gonna tell you what you can do in your spare time but I'm not havin' any junkies put my crew in danger, got me?"
Xander looked away and flicked his tongue around his teeth because his mouth tasted like metal. "Pretty sure that's not gonna be a problem."
"Better not be." Gunn said - tightened his grip on him until he looked up. "Don't be trusting Angel either. He's all wrapped up in some shit coming from Wolfram and Hart and that's about all he cares about these days. One foot out of line, I'll stake him myself. Goes for Spike too, so you'll be keeping him out of my way when the shit goes down if you know what's good for you."
"Because a chipped alcoholic vampire is so dangerous compared to a guy who used to nail puppies to the wall?" Xander asked even though an ancestral-mammal part of his brain said that yeah, yeah Spike was pretty dangerous.
And the conversation was getting surreal and blipping in and out like a bad transmission and the words bad trip skipped around the back of his mind.
"They're vampires. Vampires are always dangerous."
"What do you know about it?" Xander was running on Sunnydale automatic. Kinda like saying bless you after a sneeze.
"Had to stake my little sister."
Which were the last words Xander expected and words he really didn't want to hear and, "I'm sorry." He was. A big Jesse-shaped sorry and that heart explosion possibility wasn't seeming so remote anymore with the big and the too much which weren't physical and the physical was pretty much easier to deal with than whatever the fuck he was on that was making every hurt and twinge feel like an open wound waiting for the salt and stumbled over words that sounded like, "I've gotta go."
Everything was going sparkly and dark around the edges and he managed to get to the elevator and hit his floor - collapsed in the corner, gasping for air. *One burned out fucked up wannabe porn star going up,* and he might've said that out loud because Gunn was staring at him until the elevator doors closed and Xander dropped his head against the wall.
Don't put Gunn's crew in danger.
Ho boy could Xander do that.
Because how much danger could he be in a penthouse suite with a bottle of whiskey and a bunch of pills and powders reenacting Sid Vicious, 1978 - which'd make Spike his Nancy which was really really funny.
He wasn't at all sure what Spike would do, and when he got back to the room there were no reds - no reds here or there or anywhere and he started in on the carpet again, finding every bit of lint and fuzz and dirt. *Gotta make it all clean...make it clean...clean...*
Warnings: This is a story in which Xander's not being the best he can be. It's human horror. Dare we say it ?- it's dark. There's explicit sex and drugs and addiction, cowardice, grit, the porn industry and people behaving badly, blind eyes and Xander exploitation and enabling, good intentions, funny moments, a chip, evil, soulless and atavistic Spike and a baby. And almost everybody lives happily ever after in the last chapter.
It really was a holiday, and it really was a week. A week of a sort of red-spangled, tingly-hot nothing that was also...everything. Endless hours in their room, distant sound of traffic and sirens - Spike talking about this or that or - something. Mostly Xander didn't listen, or if he did it was kind of confusing. Spike talking about 'scenes' and cages and...something. Mostly he just took Spike deeper down his throat - into his body - closed his eyes and let himself sink. The bites Spike left on his body seemed to heal unnaturally fast.
Spike would go out and Xander would sleep, or wander downstairs. Odd times of the day and night but there was always somebody around. He'd see Angel or Wes, doing something with weapons or big books or papers - talking in low, intense voices about stuff he was pretty sure he didn't need to care about. But it was peaceful when he helped out, cleaning weapons he didn't have to use while their voices buzzed around him. Or he'd see Cordy with the baby and most of the time his first stuttering thought was *They look happy* and then he'd remember he was supposed to look that kind of happy too.
Remember and force his brain into Daddy-mode and grin and admire the outfit Cordy had him dressed in, or agreeing that he looked just great. And - he did. They did. And behind the padded wall of whatever Spike was giving him, there was no panic.
And when Cordy asked about his shots and Xander blanked for a minute and then said that the mom had been anti-vaccination so he hadn't gotten them yet but yeah, yeah, they were really important. And Cordy needed the baby's birth certificate and so Xander had dug it out of his duffel, vainly trying to smooth the creases out and letting it go made him feel - lighter. Spike had looked over his shoulder, reading, then snorted in amusement and yanked him back down into himself.
"What?"
"His name's Julian Crane?"
"Yeah. She named him."
"Daft cow. That's that bloke from Passions." Xander had seen enough Passions in the last week to know it was some weird soap opera, but he couldn't keep the characters straight and usually tuned out when Spike watched. Jacked off or gave Spike a blow job or picked out the prettiest of the pills in Spike's ever-present rainbow assortment and took one or two. Life - was definitely a cabaret.
Or a funhouse.
A cabaret in a funhouse that was easier to live in when he didn't expect anything.
Just let things happen.
Which wasn't a whole lot different from his life in Sunnydale only with less demon goo and a lot more sex.
And every time he saw Cordy, she seemed less eager to give Julian back and there were fewer awkward silences and conversations that danced around questions Xander wasn't ready to answer.
Xander was okay with that too and he felt lighter.
And lighter.
Like pretty soon, he'd float away.
And it'd be okay because Cordy had Julian.
"Dennis loves him. He's been a sweetheart - okay, he's always a sweetheart but more when Julian's in the apartment," Cordy explained, shuffling papers with Julian against her chest in a baby carrier.
A designer baby carrier.
And Julian mostly closed his eyes and slept in it and looked like he belonged there.
"So who's Dennis?" Xander wondered if the skin on Julian's foot had been that soft when he had Julian or if Cordy had worked some kind of girly magic there too.
"Her ghost," Wes said and Xander tried not to jump because he never noticed Wes entering a room.
He hadn't noticed Gunn come in either. Not till he spoke. "Phantom Dennis," he said and ignored Wes' dirty look. "Gotta be the Phantom Dennis."
The grin came easily and Xander pulled his hand away from the baby when Gunn got close and he felt a little pulse of guilt because Gunn always looked at him like he knew things.
Knew but wasn't gonna out him unless Xander got out of line.
Xander was so not gonna get out of line. "Is he a menace?"
"Not anymore. Our Cordy's got a knack for taming the beast." Gunn leaned over and plucked Julian out of the carrier and gave him a bounce. "Take this little man. A weekend with Queen C and he's a little prince."
"Spoiled rotten."
Cordelia hit Wes - what looked like hard. Xander knew she hit hard. Distantly. "Hey! He's well cared for. That's all. All the comforts of life." And she smiled at him and rocked Julian and a tense spot between Xander's shoulder blades loosened.
And Xander twisted his hands on one of Angel's business cards, shredding it around the edges and trying to think of a way to ask 'will you keep him?' that didn't sound like running away.
Even if she might let him.
Some time later Xander was stripping the sheets off the bed. Spike had told him he had to go out and do some things and why didn't he clean up a little? And here, better take this. Xander took the pill off Spike's tongue - because there's no way he was gonna turn down the tongue or the pill and together they were pretty much a done deal - and drank some Tang after and watched Spike get dressed and swing that black coat onto his shoulders, becoming - someone else.
Bad guy in monochrome, complete with smoldering cigarette and stare that'd make Dirty Harry wet his pants.
So he'd become someone else too - cabana boy in the city - and bundled up all the laundry into the middle of the bed and then noticed there were ashes on the sink in the bathroom. He'd found cleaning stuff - he suspected Cordelia - and cleaned the sink. Cleaned the shower and the floor and then the floor in the kitchen and his heart was ticking along like a rabbit on speed - thumpity-thumpity-thump. For all he knew, it was speed. Fast enough to make him a little breathless and he'd scrubbed the 'fridge until it gleamed. There wasn't a vacuum, though, so he'd picked the little bits off the carpet by hand. Until he got to the bed and noticed the stains of rust-red blood on the sheet and then that had to go and like - now.
Spike had said there were machines in the basement, and soap, so Xander bundled it all up and headed out and nearly ran head-first into Angel in the hall.
Big. Broody. Extra-glowery.
And if Xander's heart could've beat faster it would've but at this point it was pretty redundant.
"Xander," Angel said, and Xander clutched at the sheets and tried not to get a kinda goofy grin when Angel's nostrils flared and a sparkle of gold chased the brown from his eyes for a moment. Xander watched him swallow and lick his lips.
He didn't back up.
He was really proud of not backing up.
Or maybe stupid.
Stupid or stoned or high or whatever this cocktail was called.
"Hey - Deadboy," Xander said, but Angel didn't seem to hear him. But he did keep sniffing and that was getting wiggy and Xander realized he was shuffling from foot to foot.
Not backing up.
But shuffling from foot to foot and clenching and unclenching his hands in the bedding.
"You know, just 'cause Spike has the chip in his head doesn't mean you can trust him," Angel said, and sounded really casual and part of Xander's brain remembered that casual Angel was bad. Casual Angel was getting his Angelus on and he reconsidered the backing up thing. "That'd be stupid."
And settled on the standing his ground and mouthing off thing. The usual. "Does a stupid young man coast through High School on a sweet D-minus?"
"Does a smart young man follow vampires into the dark alleys of the human soul?" Which pretty much swung the pendulum back toward the less 'us-y side of Angel.
And was not exactly what Xander expected him to say.
"Not dark here. Got plenty of light," and he really needed to rethink that whole mouthing off strategy because Angel was way too close and still doing that sniffy thing.
The kind of sniffy thing Xander did while cookies were baking.
"You should lie out in the sun more." Angel said while backing away - and he didn't sound nearly as champion of the good as he used to and that made Xander kinda want to get out of there faster because - not stupid. "You're getting pale." And because he wasn't stupid, he didn't turn his back on Angel either.
Not stupid.
Not stupid and if his heart beat any faster, things were gonna get messy.
And the only remedy Xander had on hand was the zen of laundry.
It was time to do laundry.
Xander really wanted to do laundry.
And if he was lucky, there'd be a really stubborn stain he could concentrate on long enough to unwig his brain and convince himself Angel's soul was stuck on tight.
It was still weird walking through Angel's hotel barefoot with a load of bedding that reeked of sex and blood but hey - Xander could do weird.
"Hey, Gunn." Xander shrugged a shoulder in lieu of waving at the guy behind the counter and pushed open the door with his hip. It was latched. He was struggling with it when a hand reached around him and popped the door open - then, bless that hand, kept Xander from going head first down the stairs when he tripped over his own feet and stumbled.
"Hey," Gunn said and dropped his hand. He didn't step back though and Xander clutched the laundry closer to him, getting a not so fresh puff of air in his face for the trouble. "Moonlighting as Angel's maid service?"
"Uh - " Whatever was making his heart trip and jump in his chest was slowing the thinky parts of his brain down and a slow quip was a dead quip. Xander settled on, "he couldn't afford me," which might or might not have been true.
Angel had bought the Hyperion.
He could probably buy Xander too.
Boy would that be a purchase he'd live to regret.
"So Wes says you're Julian's daddy." Gunn was following him down the stairs and into the basement and it was okay because with Gunn there, things like soap and fabric softener appeared in front of Xander effortlessly. And Gunn knew and that meant Xander didn't have to pretend. Or worry he knew. He could assume Gunn knew.
He could also assume Gunn wouldn't hesitate to drive a stake through Angelus' heart if the big unsouled guy decided to make an appearance.
Xander liked Gunn.
"That's what his mom told me." And a test with 99.99% accuracy had confirmed.
"Cute kid."
"Thanks," Xander said because that's what you say when a guy says your kid is cute. And Gunn was right. The kid was cute when he wasn't crying, wailing, or giving Xander those accusatory looks which pretty much meant he was cute with Cordy. He set the machine, slammed the lid down and drummed his fingers on it.
"So why's Cordelia raising him for you?"
Xander kept drumming his fingers and licked his lips because this was the big essay question. The one with no right answer. "I'm - um - getting my life together. Making some cash. Pulling myself up by the bootstraps." Naked invisible bootstraps and who said a metaphor needed to be logical?
"Doin' Spike?" Gunn leaned against a dryer and looked him over and Xander was pretty glad he'd showered.
Recently.
"Hey, teenaged and horny, here."
"Yeah, been there, done that. Teenaged, horny and stupid." And there was that stupid thing again. Gunn'd be surprised the kinds of stupid Xander was and wasn't. "Spike's a vampire, Xander."
"So's Angel. Pick your vampires with care, I always say." His vampire was fine. His life was fine. Just fine.
Thanks.
Really.
*'Yeah, that's it, open wide, c'mon, you can take two...yeah, move that sweet cherry ass...got four more after this, don't even think about touching yourself, little boy...*
Xander shook his head, staring down at the set of moldering tablecloths and napkins that filled one water stained box - jumped and jerked around when Gunn put a hand on his back and didn't move away when Xander backed up right into the table, gripping the edges and whatever Spike gave him he was never taking again because everything was starting to look bigger, and freakier and Xander didn't know what was coming just that it was bad and he was way, way too exposed right here.
"Yes! Uh - no. What?"
"Feelin' all right, Xander?" Gunn was looking him over again - sniffing him - and what was up with that lately? Taking one of his arms and looking it over on the inside before Xander picked up on the what and the why and snatched it back.
Looked away.
"Yeah. Yeah - fine - gotta switch to decaf. I think I need to get back upstairs and finish cleaning up and - and uh find out where the spare sheets live."
"That shit'll kill you." Gunn said, because he knew and Xander was okay with the knowing but less with the talking and when he let Xander jitter past him he didn't let him jitter all the way.
Xander licked his lips and didn't turn around and scrubbed his palm against the thigh of his pants and tried hard - really really hard to project harmless kid.
"I figure you oughta know me and Wes know what you guys get up to. So's Angel but he doesn't care. Cordy's the only one who doesn't think you're fucked up and Wes doesn't think it's a good idea to tell her. You don't wanna be giving me a reason to tell her." Gunn didn't sound - angry or threatening or mean, just like Gunn - and when he leaned in and Xander leaned away because Gunn was too close and he was too jittery and Gunn kept talking. "You're wasted, Xander and you best believe I know wasted when I see it. Now I'm not gonna tell you what you can do in your spare time but I'm not havin' any junkies put my crew in danger, got me?"
Xander looked away and flicked his tongue around his teeth because his mouth tasted like metal. "Pretty sure that's not gonna be a problem."
"Better not be." Gunn said - tightened his grip on him until he looked up. "Don't be trusting Angel either. He's all wrapped up in some shit coming from Wolfram and Hart and that's about all he cares about these days. One foot out of line, I'll stake him myself. Goes for Spike too, so you'll be keeping him out of my way when the shit goes down if you know what's good for you."
"Because a chipped alcoholic vampire is so dangerous compared to a guy who used to nail puppies to the wall?" Xander asked even though an ancestral-mammal part of his brain said that yeah, yeah Spike was pretty dangerous.
And the conversation was getting surreal and blipping in and out like a bad transmission and the words bad trip skipped around the back of his mind.
"They're vampires. Vampires are always dangerous."
"What do you know about it?" Xander was running on Sunnydale automatic. Kinda like saying bless you after a sneeze.
"Had to stake my little sister."
Which were the last words Xander expected and words he really didn't want to hear and, "I'm sorry." He was. A big Jesse-shaped sorry and that heart explosion possibility wasn't seeming so remote anymore with the big and the too much which weren't physical and the physical was pretty much easier to deal with than whatever the fuck he was on that was making every hurt and twinge feel like an open wound waiting for the salt and stumbled over words that sounded like, "I've gotta go."
Everything was going sparkly and dark around the edges and he managed to get to the elevator and hit his floor - collapsed in the corner, gasping for air. *One burned out fucked up wannabe porn star going up,* and he might've said that out loud because Gunn was staring at him until the elevator doors closed and Xander dropped his head against the wall.
Don't put Gunn's crew in danger.
Ho boy could Xander do that.
Because how much danger could he be in a penthouse suite with a bottle of whiskey and a bunch of pills and powders reenacting Sid Vicious, 1978 - which'd make Spike his Nancy which was really really funny.
He wasn't at all sure what Spike would do, and when he got back to the room there were no reds - no reds here or there or anywhere and he started in on the carpet again, finding every bit of lint and fuzz and dirt. *Gotta make it all clean...make it clean...clean...*