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Killing time before my job interview, so I figure what the heck? Might as well post the next chapter:)
Title: Learn to be Lonely Chapter 5/?
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chocgood84
Rating: NC-17 for brief violence and sexual content
Pairing: BtVS Spike/Xander
Author’s Note: Yes, I am aware that the timeline is a little screwed up and that Giles didn’t own the Magic Box until after Adam and after Dawn arrived. But in my reality, who’s Dawn? Adam what? Also, a huge spanking thanks tokitty_poker1 for being my official L2BL beta.
Disclaimer: These character’s aren’t mine, never were; I don’t get any profit for this hobby, so don’t sue – Thanks.
Warning: Brief violence, nudity, and hetero and homo sexual content and situations. And some h0t man-luvin.
Previous parts here.
The phone was ringing - again? for real this time?- and Xander made that treacherous swim towards consciousness, cringing at how bright everything was, even though the basement was clad in false darkness from the shades that still barricaded the room from the daylight outside. His hand searched the bright darkness and found the cord to the phone running under the pull-out. His fingers followed it like bread crumbs until they wrapped around the receiver that was vibrating with the piercing ring. Gingerly, he picked it up and brought it to his ear.
“Mmm…hello?” he mumbled, wincing at the gravel that clogged his throat.
“Xander?” Anya asked. “Xander, it’s me.”
“Anya?” Xander cleared his throat; it didn’t help. “Anya, what’s up?”
“Xander, I, uh…” The sound of sniffling and wheezing came through the earpiece, and it struck Xander’s nerves like a ton of acid ice, eating right through his chest and freezing what was left of it.
“Anya, what’s the matter?” He was suddenly so awake as he noted the panic in his voice. “What’s going on?”
“We – we need to talk, Xander,” came the fragile words, like crystal teetering on a wobbly table. “I need to see you.”
Xander mentally ran down the checklist, first to make sure this wasn’t a dream, and secondly to remember what he was supposed to do. The project at work was on hold until the permits went through, so he was off for the week. And, as far as he knew, there wasn’t a Scooby meeting anytime today.
“Okay, alright,” he said around clenched teeth with a stone tongue. “I’ll be right over. Give me ten-“
“No, not right now,” she insisted. Suddenly there was a hardness to her voice that Xander didn’t recognize, didn’t like. “Later, tonight. I have things today that I have to do, important things. I can’t put them off.”
“But Anya, if there’s something wrong-“ Jesus, what’s going on?
“No, Xander. Not now. Come tonight; I’ll be back around seven. Come then, okay, Xander? Not until then, okay?” The hardness in her voice dragged a jagged edge sharply across his spine. For a moment, he thought he’d been sliced and wanted to check for blood. But the coldness there told him it was something different, something more real and terrifying then any knife-wielding demon.
“Okay, Anya, alright. I’ll come tonight, around-“ Click, and she was gone. Xander was left whispering into a dead dial tone, sitting in his bed alone with a blanket wrapped around his legs and a growing darkness wrapping around his soul.
“S’matter?” Spike called from the chair. His voice, too, was gravelly and dripping with sleep.
“I don’t know,” Xander answered, his voice wavering and his breath hitching. He was half-way waiting to wake up from this dream. After a moment, he finally gave into the reality that it wasn’t a dream. “I don’t know what’s wrong.”
After a few seconds, he added, “Sorry to wake you up; go back to sleep. I’m just gonna, ah, get dressed and take a walk.” He glanced at the stereo – only eleven o’clock, eight more hours to drive himself crazy wondering.
“Sure, Xander?” Spike asked around a yawn. “Can talk about it if you wanna.”
“No, no, that’s okay,” Xander was aware that his voice was small and weak, growing distant. He glanced over at the vampire to find two glowing blue eyes staring at him through the darkness. “Thanks, though.”
From his chair, in the darkness, Spike nodded, and the two blue lights blinked and went out as he returned to his sleep.
****
The smell of incense and the clanging bell greeted Xander as he walked into Magic Box. He breathed deep the scent of jasmine and magic, of sulfur and sage and the underlying smell of must and dust of Giles’ books. A brief smile flickered across his face as the memories of a thousand scents just like this swam through his vision. Ghosts of what once was cinched his chest and for a moment he couldn’t breathe. He could only live in the memory of a dusty old library full of danger and apocalyptic plans, of friendship and innocence, tears and laughter and anger and pain. But that library was destroyed, along with most of the things it had held.
Shaking those visions away, Xander noted the time on the wall clock: four in the afternoon. Three hours to go, and he’d run out of sidewalks to stumble over.
The shop was empty, no one browsing the shelves or seeking a spell ingredient. Somewhere in the back, a piano played a haunting tune through the speakers of a small stereo Giles kept in the office. The chords struck Xander as strangely fitting; slow and low, soft and mourning. The notes spoke of loss and of better days, of how time grew faster with every passing day and how yesterday seemed further and further away with each trembling step he took into tomorrow.
But then again, maybe he was only projecting.
“Giles?” he called, amazed at how weak his voice still sounded. His call was answered with an unintelligible string of curses coming from the same area as the music.
Xander wandered back towards the music and the swearing. He found Giles in his office, stabbing fingers at the computer’s keyboard, glasses hanging precariously from his nose and his brow knitted in frustration.
“You know, these things usually work better when you play nice with them, G-man,” he spoke softly, smiling as Giles jerked up, startled.
“Thank God, you’re here,” he muttered, pushing himself away from the desk. “Maybe you can make this blasted thing work.” Giles gestured to the computer’s monitor, which was blinking with “error” boxes from some unknown program.
“I’ll give it a shot, but Willow’s the computer geek,” he explained as he sat down and started closing out programs at random, saving as he went and escaping out of the error pop-ups.
“Yes, well, I can’t seem to reach her,” Giles said, refilling his cup with water from the electric kettle he kept here at the shop. Dunking a fresh tea bag, he seemed to calm down, just anticipating the tea. “She’s probably at class, or off with Tara.”
“I’m thinking the second thing you said.” Xander glared at the computer and gave a sigh of relief when he finally closed out the last program and the monitor displayed the desktop, which was wallpapered with a landscape picture, probably somewhere in England. “So what do you need me to do?”
“I was trying to pull up last month’s inventory log, but couldn’t quite find it on that dreadful machine.” Giles sent death rays towards the innocent computer.
“You mean this file that says ‘inv_prev’?” Xander asked as he clicked on it and the Excel file opened up to reveal a list of assorted Magic Box inventory items. “Honestly, Giles – use it or lose it.”
“I would love to lose it,” Giles assured him. “But I couldn’t listen to Anya bi- er, complain about not ‘moving into the twentieth century’ any longer. She insisted we keep our logs electronically. I just haven’t gotten around to figuring out how to do this yet.”
“Good old Anya,” Xander mumbled with a sigh.
“By the way, where is she?” Giles asked, taking his tea and returning to the front room. Xander followed, making sure to leave the Excel file open for him. “She didn’t come into work today. Which was odd, to say the least.”
“I don’t know,” he replied, hoping the panic wasn’t as evident to the Watcher as it was to him. “Something’s up with her. She called me this morning, crying I think, and said she needs to talk to me. But she wouldn’t see me until tonight.”
“Well, if she wanted to wait, I’m sure it’s nothing urgent,” Giles reasoned.
“Yeah, but-“ Xander wanted to tell the Watcher about the two dreams he’d had. About how everything seemed different lately. About how things had changed, were still changing. But something in him made him decide it wasn’t the right time, wasn’t anything that Giles needed to hear. “You’re probably right. I’m just a little on edge about it, that’s all.”
“Well, it’s probably nothing to worry about,” Giles insisted. “Just another Anya dramatization.”
“Yeah,” Xander said unenthusiastically. “Hey, I’ve got a few hours to kill, and nothing to do. Need any help moving books or something?”
“Xander,” Giles grinned, “I thought you’d never ask.”
****
Title: Learn to be Lonely Chapter 5/?
Author:
chocgood84Rating: NC-17 for brief violence and sexual content
Pairing: BtVS Spike/Xander
Author’s Note: Yes, I am aware that the timeline is a little screwed up and that Giles didn’t own the Magic Box until after Adam and after Dawn arrived. But in my reality, who’s Dawn? Adam what? Also, a huge spanking thanks to
kitty_poker1 for being my official L2BL beta.Disclaimer: These character’s aren’t mine, never were; I don’t get any profit for this hobby, so don’t sue – Thanks.
Warning: Brief violence, nudity, and hetero and homo sexual content and situations. And some h0t man-luvin.
Previous parts here.
The phone was ringing - again? for real this time?- and Xander made that treacherous swim towards consciousness, cringing at how bright everything was, even though the basement was clad in false darkness from the shades that still barricaded the room from the daylight outside. His hand searched the bright darkness and found the cord to the phone running under the pull-out. His fingers followed it like bread crumbs until they wrapped around the receiver that was vibrating with the piercing ring. Gingerly, he picked it up and brought it to his ear.
“Mmm…hello?” he mumbled, wincing at the gravel that clogged his throat.
“Xander?” Anya asked. “Xander, it’s me.”
“Anya?” Xander cleared his throat; it didn’t help. “Anya, what’s up?”
“Xander, I, uh…” The sound of sniffling and wheezing came through the earpiece, and it struck Xander’s nerves like a ton of acid ice, eating right through his chest and freezing what was left of it.
“Anya, what’s the matter?” He was suddenly so awake as he noted the panic in his voice. “What’s going on?”
“We – we need to talk, Xander,” came the fragile words, like crystal teetering on a wobbly table. “I need to see you.”
Xander mentally ran down the checklist, first to make sure this wasn’t a dream, and secondly to remember what he was supposed to do. The project at work was on hold until the permits went through, so he was off for the week. And, as far as he knew, there wasn’t a Scooby meeting anytime today.
“Okay, alright,” he said around clenched teeth with a stone tongue. “I’ll be right over. Give me ten-“
“No, not right now,” she insisted. Suddenly there was a hardness to her voice that Xander didn’t recognize, didn’t like. “Later, tonight. I have things today that I have to do, important things. I can’t put them off.”
“But Anya, if there’s something wrong-“ Jesus, what’s going on?
“No, Xander. Not now. Come tonight; I’ll be back around seven. Come then, okay, Xander? Not until then, okay?” The hardness in her voice dragged a jagged edge sharply across his spine. For a moment, he thought he’d been sliced and wanted to check for blood. But the coldness there told him it was something different, something more real and terrifying then any knife-wielding demon.
“Okay, Anya, alright. I’ll come tonight, around-“ Click, and she was gone. Xander was left whispering into a dead dial tone, sitting in his bed alone with a blanket wrapped around his legs and a growing darkness wrapping around his soul.
“S’matter?” Spike called from the chair. His voice, too, was gravelly and dripping with sleep.
“I don’t know,” Xander answered, his voice wavering and his breath hitching. He was half-way waiting to wake up from this dream. After a moment, he finally gave into the reality that it wasn’t a dream. “I don’t know what’s wrong.”
After a few seconds, he added, “Sorry to wake you up; go back to sleep. I’m just gonna, ah, get dressed and take a walk.” He glanced at the stereo – only eleven o’clock, eight more hours to drive himself crazy wondering.
“Sure, Xander?” Spike asked around a yawn. “Can talk about it if you wanna.”
“No, no, that’s okay,” Xander was aware that his voice was small and weak, growing distant. He glanced over at the vampire to find two glowing blue eyes staring at him through the darkness. “Thanks, though.”
From his chair, in the darkness, Spike nodded, and the two blue lights blinked and went out as he returned to his sleep.
****
The smell of incense and the clanging bell greeted Xander as he walked into Magic Box. He breathed deep the scent of jasmine and magic, of sulfur and sage and the underlying smell of must and dust of Giles’ books. A brief smile flickered across his face as the memories of a thousand scents just like this swam through his vision. Ghosts of what once was cinched his chest and for a moment he couldn’t breathe. He could only live in the memory of a dusty old library full of danger and apocalyptic plans, of friendship and innocence, tears and laughter and anger and pain. But that library was destroyed, along with most of the things it had held.
Shaking those visions away, Xander noted the time on the wall clock: four in the afternoon. Three hours to go, and he’d run out of sidewalks to stumble over.
The shop was empty, no one browsing the shelves or seeking a spell ingredient. Somewhere in the back, a piano played a haunting tune through the speakers of a small stereo Giles kept in the office. The chords struck Xander as strangely fitting; slow and low, soft and mourning. The notes spoke of loss and of better days, of how time grew faster with every passing day and how yesterday seemed further and further away with each trembling step he took into tomorrow.
But then again, maybe he was only projecting.
“Giles?” he called, amazed at how weak his voice still sounded. His call was answered with an unintelligible string of curses coming from the same area as the music.
Xander wandered back towards the music and the swearing. He found Giles in his office, stabbing fingers at the computer’s keyboard, glasses hanging precariously from his nose and his brow knitted in frustration.
“You know, these things usually work better when you play nice with them, G-man,” he spoke softly, smiling as Giles jerked up, startled.
“Thank God, you’re here,” he muttered, pushing himself away from the desk. “Maybe you can make this blasted thing work.” Giles gestured to the computer’s monitor, which was blinking with “error” boxes from some unknown program.
“I’ll give it a shot, but Willow’s the computer geek,” he explained as he sat down and started closing out programs at random, saving as he went and escaping out of the error pop-ups.
“Yes, well, I can’t seem to reach her,” Giles said, refilling his cup with water from the electric kettle he kept here at the shop. Dunking a fresh tea bag, he seemed to calm down, just anticipating the tea. “She’s probably at class, or off with Tara.”
“I’m thinking the second thing you said.” Xander glared at the computer and gave a sigh of relief when he finally closed out the last program and the monitor displayed the desktop, which was wallpapered with a landscape picture, probably somewhere in England. “So what do you need me to do?”
“I was trying to pull up last month’s inventory log, but couldn’t quite find it on that dreadful machine.” Giles sent death rays towards the innocent computer.
“You mean this file that says ‘inv_prev’?” Xander asked as he clicked on it and the Excel file opened up to reveal a list of assorted Magic Box inventory items. “Honestly, Giles – use it or lose it.”
“I would love to lose it,” Giles assured him. “But I couldn’t listen to Anya bi- er, complain about not ‘moving into the twentieth century’ any longer. She insisted we keep our logs electronically. I just haven’t gotten around to figuring out how to do this yet.”
“Good old Anya,” Xander mumbled with a sigh.
“By the way, where is she?” Giles asked, taking his tea and returning to the front room. Xander followed, making sure to leave the Excel file open for him. “She didn’t come into work today. Which was odd, to say the least.”
“I don’t know,” he replied, hoping the panic wasn’t as evident to the Watcher as it was to him. “Something’s up with her. She called me this morning, crying I think, and said she needs to talk to me. But she wouldn’t see me until tonight.”
“Well, if she wanted to wait, I’m sure it’s nothing urgent,” Giles reasoned.
“Yeah, but-“ Xander wanted to tell the Watcher about the two dreams he’d had. About how everything seemed different lately. About how things had changed, were still changing. But something in him made him decide it wasn’t the right time, wasn’t anything that Giles needed to hear. “You’re probably right. I’m just a little on edge about it, that’s all.”
“Well, it’s probably nothing to worry about,” Giles insisted. “Just another Anya dramatization.”
“Yeah,” Xander said unenthusiastically. “Hey, I’ve got a few hours to kill, and nothing to do. Need any help moving books or something?”
“Xander,” Giles grinned, “I thought you’d never ask.”
****
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
From:
no subject
Spike was ready to be all friendy and talky with Xander. Yay!!!!!
Poor Xander. He's so confused.
From:
no subject
Go! Read Chapter 6! it'll help...maybe;)
Thank you, luv:)
From:
no subject
That's my roundabout way of asking you for more, please. And good luck with the interview!
~Nebula
From:
no subject
Glad you're liking it, babe:) Thanks!
From:
no subject
;)
From:
no subject
Fixed!
*g*
From:
no subject
Great chapter.