FIC: So Crazy it Just Might Work (Xander, Angel), Part 3: "In the Dark"

Jun 24, 2007 10:28

Another Sunday, another chapter of my "reworking" of AtS Season 1 in which Angel runs into Xander in L.A. instead of Cordelia.

To reiterate, Angel and Xander are not (and will never be) a pairing in this universe, but Spike/Xander will be eventually and the overall tone of the 'verse will be slashy. At the moment, each chapter represents an episode of the season (as the titles indicate), but I can't guarantee that format will continue through. Not planning to go past Season 1 with this.

This part is 2550 words.

Title: So Crazy it Just Might Work
Chapter: Three - "In the Dark"
Pairing: Angel, Xander (hints of Spike/Xander now, with more later on)
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: Probably not what Joss envisioned. Some bits of dialogue have been stolen from AtS s1 "In the Dark"
Thanks: To reremouse and cordelianne for their support.
Summary: A slashier version of the first season of AtS in which Angel teams up with Xander instead of Cordelia (but not in a sexual way).

Part One: "City Of..."
Part Two: "Lonely Hearts"


“‘How can I thank you, you mysterious, black-clad hunk of a night thing?’ ‘No need, little lady, your tears of gratitude are enough for me. You see, I was once a badass vampire, but love and a pesky curse defanged me. Now I’m just a big, fluffy puppy with bad teeth… No, not the hair! Never the hair!’ ‘But there must be someway I can show my appreciation.’ ‘No, helping those in need’s my job - and working up a load of sexual tension, and prancing away like a magnificent poof is truly thanks enough!’ ‘I understand. I have a nephew who is gay, so…’ ‘Say no more. Evil’s still afoot! And I’m almost out of that Nancy-boy hair-gel that I like so much. Quickly, to the Angel-mobile, away!’

“Go on with you. Play the big, strapping hero while you can. You have a few surprises coming your way: The ring of Amarra, a visit from your old pal Spike and, oh yeah, your gruesome, horrible death.”
- AtS, Season 1 Episode 3, "In the Dark"

Evil never takes a night off.

Xander, however, tries to take at least two per week.

Or at least he will be, starting from now on. Tonight is the first night he’s taken in the last twelve days and boy does need it. He may or may not be cursed, but he’s pretty sure he’ll lose his soul if he doesn’t have sex tonight.

The fact that he started eyeing Doyle a few days ago should have been an early warning sign, but it wasn’t until this afternoon when he caught himself staring at Angel’s ass that Xander realized the situation had gotten dire.

Do or die. Cruise or lose.

Club or perish.

So he’s chosen club and now here he is, dripping with sweat, immersed in the beat, and surrounded by available men - with just the right amount social lubrication racing through his bloodstream to make them all look cute, but not so much that he’s likely to vomit on their shoes.

Seeing the contents of Xander’s stomach rarely put guys in the mood for naughty fun.

Human guys, at least.

Which would make for a handy litmus test…

If passing it didn’t mean the guy in question already backing away slowly with a look of disgust on his face.

It occurs to Xander that he’s thinking about demons, which is practically like thinking about work, which is exactly not what he’s supposed to be doing on this his night off, which is supposed to be all about the getting laid, which even in a place like this requires a certain baseline of focus.

Time to put work out of his mind. Angel is taking care of Rachel - their first paying client - and her violent, stalker boyfriend. Doyle is manning the phone. All that’s left for Xander to do tonight is be here and look pretty.

He puts on a smile and scans the room.

In the end, Xander doesn’t get the night off.

And he almost doesn’t get across the room in time.

It’s the context thing. It takes his brain a few too many seconds to go from hot-club-guy-in-platinum-blond-and-black-leather to Spike-the-evil-slayer-killing-vampire-here-in-a-club-in-L.A. - and far too many more to go from that to dangerous-demon-chatting-up-innocent-victim-that-needs-to-be-rescued-like-right-now.

And by the time he makes it there in his mind and makes it there in the room, there’s nothing for Xander to do but throw his own body in front of the train.

And what a train it is.

In retrospect, it seems a slightly insane to say that he’s never noticed before how hot Spike is. But then again fear for one’s life and the lives of one’s closest friends tends to be a bit of a distraction.

Of course, the hotness in question has not escaped anyone else’s notice, so when Xander puts himself between vamp and victim, victim is pissed. “Excuse me,” Victim says, “but if you don’t mind, we were about to go somewhere a little more private.”

“Sorry,” Xander says, ignoring Victim to look Vamp in eye, “but I think Spike here would rather step outside with me.”

Spike smirks. “That right, mate?”

“That’s right,” Xander says, pressing his fingernails into his palm to keep his body - and voice - from shaking.

To Xander’s surprise, Spike shrugs and nods toward the alley exit. “After you, then.”

Thus, with the-lucky-idiot-formerly-known-as-Victim glaring daggers at his back, the-foolish-idiot-formerly-known-as-Xander turns his back on a vampire and precedes him outside. The door to the alley clangs shut as Xander turns to face his fate like a man.

He expects a flash of fangs and a killing lunge, but only gets a slow and thorough appraisal. He shivers.

Spike leers. “No place to hide a stake in a kit like that.”

A short, sharp laugh bursts from Xander’s throat. “You know, I’m really gonna have to figure something out for that. You have no idea how often this problem comes up.”

“Bit of a change,” Spike notes. “From before.”

Besides Angel, Spike’s the first person from Sunnydale Xander’s seen since L.A. Angel never notices these things.

“Newly gay,” Xander says.

Spike nods. “Suits you.”

“Thanks,” Xander says. “Are you going to kill me now?”

“You always trade your own life to save strangers?”

Xander shrugs. “Didn’t have time for a better plan.”

Spike eyes him, steps closer. “Got a death wish or something?’

Xander resists the urge to step back. “Not particularly.”

Spike leans in until Xander can feel the next words against his neck. “Could make you like it.”

Xander can hardly breathe around the heart in his throat. Suddenly, Spike’s tongue is slithering up the side of his neck and Xander shivers again as his eyes slip closed.

Then, just as suddenly, the tongue is gone.

When he opens his eyes again he’s looking into Spike’s.

“Don’t fancy a vengeful slayer nippin’ at my heels,” Spike says. “Got plans.”

Before Xander can answer, he’s gone.

“Unkillable?” Xander’s eyes widen as he looks between Doyle, Oz and Angel. “So, like, you put this ring on and stakes just bounce right off your chest?”

“Something like that.” Angel keeps his usual poker face.

Doyle grins like an idiot. “Best part is he gets to walk in the sun.” He turns to Angel. “I mean just think of it, man. Poolside tanning, bargain matinees…. Plus there’s several strip clubs I know of that have a fabulous luncheon buffet, that’s really quite tasty… I’ve heard.”

Angel looks up from the Gem of Amarra and over at Oz. “And it’s from Buffy.”

”Yeah. Your buddy Spike dug up Sunnydale looking for it. He got a fistful of Buffy and left it behind. She wanted to be sure it was in good hands.”

“Spike,” Xander echoes.

Angel doesn’t seem to hear. “So she sent you.”

“I was heading this way,” Oz says.

“And, what? Nothing for me?” Xander huffs. “I mean, hello - very breakable here. And rapidly learning that there is such of thing as manly jewelry.”

Angel looks up, eyes shifting from haunted to rolling with a side of glare, and Xander smiles on the inside. Inappropriate lightening of moods? Still a Xander Harris specialty.

“Hey!” Doyle walks over to Angel’s desk and picks up a stake. “Why don’t you put it on and I’ll stake you. It’ll be fun!”

Xander hurries over and picks up another one. “Ooh, ooh! I like this game. Me first!”

Doyle shifts closer. “But it was my idea…”

Angel doesn’t even look at them. “Maybe later.”

Xander gives him a pout. “Aw, come on. You never let us have any-”

Angel pins him with a glare. “I said, maybe later.”

“But-”

“Xander…”

Xander and Doyle both know when to back off. Doyle heads toward the elevator. “Okay, you have it your way, man. But I’m still going to celebrate with a drink down at the pub.”

“I’m in,” Xander says. “Though I could really use some action and no one at your pub ever wants to sleep with me…. You coming, Oz?”

“To sleep with you?” Oz asks.

“I was thinking more to catch up.” Xander steps into the elevator. “But at this point, I wouldn’t say no.”

Oz steps in after him. “Willow wouldn’t like it.”

True that. “Doyle?” Xander asks as they start to ascend.

“Depends,” Doyle says. “You buying?”

Xander and Doyle stumble into the office together sometime past noon. It’s not clear who’s dragging whom.

“Oh, god,” Doyle moans. “You know what would feel really good right now? One of those mind-numbing, head-cracking visions that I get from time to time, because that would really kill me now.” He looks up and sees Angel. “Aspirin,” he croaks.

“And coffee,” Xander adds. He blinks at Angel. “You know, I think there was something I was supposed to tell you, but I can’t remember. Maybe after I’ve had a cup or…”

“No time,” Angel says. “I was just on my way out. Rachel called. They released Lenny.”

“Shit,” Xander says. “That sucks.”

“Need some help?” Doyle asks.

Angel’s look conveys a less than stunning assessment of their fighting fitness. “I think I can manage.” He turns to leave, spins back around for a double take. “Wait a minute - last night… you two didn’t…?”

“What?” Doyle and Xander do double takes of their own. “No.”

“Oh no.”

“Had a few too many…”

“Doyle’s place was closer…”

“He slept on the couch…”

“Thank God,” Angel mutters as he heads for the stairs.

“I mean, there was that one moment in the hall…”

“But that really doesn’t…”

“Not listening!” They hear, just before the slam of a door.

“You know,” Xander says as he closes the blinds and slumps into the chair behind his desk, “it might be worth doing someday - just to see him squirm.”

Five minutes later, Xander lifts his head from the desk and gazes mournfully at the empty coffee maker. “Coffee hard,” he says. “Grease good.”

Doyle drags his own eyes up to meet Xander’s. “Diner?” he asks.

“God yes.”

They hear the sounds of the fight on the way down and run the rest of the way to the parking garage, but by the time they get there, Spike is already down, sprawled out on the ground against the wall.

He looks up and a smile spreads across his face. “Xander! Missed you at the club last night. It was a good crowd.”

“Really? Usually Thursdays are kinda - hey!”

Spike scrambles to his feet and looks at Angel. “I’ll get that ring. This isn’t over until one of us is a pile of dust, mate.”

Once he’s gone, Doyle and Angel turn on Xander.

He swallows. “Hey, Angel, I ran into Spike at this club the other night. Seemed like he was up to something. Might have to do with that gem thing, so you should probably keep an eye out.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Angel says.

“No, man, not Spice, that’s the bird that works down on Broadway. Spike, as in railroad…. Uh huh…. Yeah, vampire, right…. No? … Okay, then. Thanks.” Doyle hangs up and makes a mark in his open address book. “Frankie Tripod? A big no.”

“Frankie Tripod,” Xander echoes, pacing Doyle’s apartment. “Some kind of three-legged monster?”

“No, he’s human.”

“Then what’s his name supposed to…?” Understanding dawns. “Oh…” And then, “Think he’s free tomorrow night?”

Doyle snorts. “Trust me, he’s not much of a catch.”

“Not a problem.” Xander grins. “With the name like that, I’d definitely be asking him to pitch.”

“It’s been too long,” Xander says. “You passed Angel that tip hours ago. Even if he hadn’t found Spike, he would have checked in by now.”

“Maybe not.” The look on Doyle’s face is probably supposed to be optimistic but comes off more like constipated. “Maybe he did away with Spike in short order, and decided to give a go at surfing.”

“Yeah,” Xander says. “Because Angel’s spontaneously taking a day for fun-in-the-sun after dusting Spike is so much more likely than him calling us before returning to his basement to sit in the dark and brood about how he taught Spike to kill and how every evil thing Spike has ever done was actually all his own fault.”

Thinking that one over takes Doyle about half a second. “Right,” he says. “Let’s head back to the office.”

The minute they open the door they can hear the crashing downstairs. They reach for the nearest weapons. Xander has the crossbow loaded and aimed at the stairs by the time Spike reaches the top.

“If you wanted to see me again,” Xander says, “you really should have called first. And, you know, not trashed the place.”

A smirk just shouldn’t be that sexy. “If I wanted to see you again, mate, I’d have gone to your place.”

“You don’t know where I live,” Xander says with far more confidence than he feels.

“You hope I don’t.” Spike pauses, tilting his head. “Or maybe you hope I do.” His smirk widens as he takes a step in Xander’s direction.

“That’s close enough,” Doyle warns, brandishing a handgun.

“Who’s this, then? Jealous boyfriend?” Spike gives Doyle a once-over that seems to find him wanting. “Should’ve told him bullets don’t kill the likes of me.”

“He knows,” Doyle says. “But it’ll slow you down enough for me to shove a piece of wood through your chest.”

Spike’s eyes light. “Ooh, the Mick’s got spine! Maybe I’ll snap it in two.”

Xander shakes his head and steadies the crossbow. “Don’t make me use this, Spike.”

“Make you?” Spike mocks. “Near as I can tell, you’re just itching to stake ole Spike, no force necessary. But don’t bother, you’d both be dead before that arrow leaves the bow.”

Xander wishes he thought Spike were bluffing - on either point.

“Now where was I?” Spike asks. “Oh right - bloody tired of looking for that ring. I think you two should take over now.”

Doyle scowls. “Where’s Angel?”

“Angel, um - tall brooding guy? Caveman brow? He’s having the living hell tortured out of him. And you know how stubborn he can be, he might die before he gives up the ring. Why don’t you two find it real fast and give it to me and I’ll let Angel go.”

“Sure,” Xander says. “Because then you’ll just scamper off and leave us all alone.”

Spike winks at him. “What fun would that be? But it’s not like you lot have any choice. You have until sundown to save him. You’ll find me behind Peterson’s Fishery between Seward and Westminster.” He turns to go. “Don’t be late.”

Searching for the ring should be like looking for a needle in a haystack - a needle in a really smelly haystack, once they figure out it’s probably in the sewer - but somehow once they’re close Doyle hones right in on it.

Of course, it’s not like they can just turn it over to Spike.

They call Oz and make their plan and Xander squelches the tiny feeling of guilt over double-crossing Spike, chalking it up as just another of the many signs that he really needs to get laid.

“So,” says Spike, stepping forward from within the shadows behind the fishery, “where’s my ring?”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit soon?” Xander asks. “I mean, we’re still just getting to know each other.”

Doyle shoots Xander a glare. “Not on us,” he tells Spike.

“But we do know where it is,” Xander adds.

Spike rolls his eyes. “And suddenly I’m so painfully bored. Time runs short, children. Give me that ring as if Angel’s life depended on it.”

Xander rolls his eyes right back. “Yeah, we’re gonna need to see Angel first.”

Doyle nods. “And if he’s still in one piece, we tell you where you can find the ring.”

Spike shrugs. “He is still alive, I think. In one piece was never part of the deal.”

But Angel is in once piece and Oz busts into the warehouse right on cue, crossbows at the ready, busting out again with Doyle, Xander and battered-but-unbeaten Angel on board - who even manages to yank the now-cold poker from his own chest and retrieve the ring from the creepy bald guy before any innocent boy or girl scouts get eaten.

Go team.

Still, it’s almost sad the way Spike never saw Oz (or his van) coming.

Except for the part where Spike would have killed them all.

Xander leaves Angel and Doyle to the sunset, goes out and gets himself laid.

Part Four: "I Fall to Pieces"

so crazy it just might work

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