Walker of Night Part 7

[madimpossibledreamer]

This could essentially stand alone.  Really weird spelling of Cordy, but I'm retaining it.  this part is one of the reasons I'm posting this super old fic.

Main Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Summary: Kind of a feel-good character study?
Word Count: 1655
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Xander/Spike

 

Hey.  My name is Xander Harris.  And I’m about to introduce you to my life.

Okay, I’m currently with my head against the table, a headache pulsing through my brain, and I may seem like I hate my life, but in reality I couldn’t be happier.  It’s not normal, but I don’t think I would ask for anything else anymore.  After relationships with Cordie (Popular Girl), Faith (a Slayer), and Anya (former Vengeance Demon), I think normal was a lost cause a long time ago.  Actually, it says a lot about my life that Cordie was the least likely, to me.  I mean, total nerd here.  She was just as surprised though.  Faith…well, to be completely honest, wasn’t entirely surprised.  No attachment there, I’d like to point out.  Just…convenience, and raging hormones, and the Slayer attitude of me want me have, with none of the…well, restraint.  ‘Cause Faith definitely would never be about any of the restraint.  And I’ve always been a demon magnet.

That cute little redhead in the corner is Willow.  Had a crush on her, helped introduce tension to the now-broken relationship with a band werewolf.  Now, it’s back to the sort of friend-crush it’d started out as.  Me and her, I mean.  I feel sorry for Oz, as much as I know she’s happy now.  They still have something going in a universe out there, somewhere, I’m sure, so there’s somewhere, at least, where he’s happy.  I’d die for her, Willow, I mean, but I don’t really want to kiss her anymore.  Not that she’s not attractive anymore, just I don’t want to kiss her, and she’s pretty, but I don’t notice anymore…and Xander, you’re going to step away from that verbal hole before you kill yourself, or get anyone to kill you.  She’s a witch, and a powerful one.  Even I can feel that now.  And I’m not even entirely certain where I was going with that one.

The shy blonde holding her hand is her girlfriend, Tara.  Barely know her, but she never talks, so, don’t ‘xactly get a choice, ya know?  She’s good for Wills.  And yeah, the whole ‘bi’ wagon thing was just as surprising for her as it was for me.  And she, Tara, that is, *feels* like a good person, which is enough for me.

Over there’s the Buffster, wishing that she could stake her homework.  It works on vamps, why shouldn’t it work on other things that cause trouble for young women?  She looks over and smiles at me, and I smile back and wave.  Another former crush of mine, but I’m kind of over that, now.  Strange how being in a commitment erases the urgency to other crushes.  Like waves washing footprints off the beach, actually.  I wish she could stake my homework, too.  It’d be nice.  Wouldn’t be ruining my…everything, actually, then.  Back to Buff.  Looks every inch the small, blonde cheerleader, but that is at once everything she is and nothing she is.  She’s stronger than most people her age; more than most people who’ve ever lived, I’d wager. 

Soldier Boy isn’t around, but he will be, eventually.  Riley.  Probably the most normal of us, and that’s of the weird considering he’s a soldier working for the government to capture Things That Go Bump In The Night by night and college student by day.  He’s still not sure how to act around this whole group, but that’s okay.  Still kind of the odd guy out, and he’ll go from outsider to insider eventually, but he’ll have to earn it with this bunch.

Surprisingly enough, G-man’s here, but he’s taken a whole stack of books in.  Apparently he’s trying to figure out whether he should sell them off, which doesn’t really make sense to me, but whatever.  I’d like a few of them, but I’m not going to say anything, because I’d rather ease them into this instead of going ‘hey, here’s evidence I’ve changed!  Slap in Face!’  They’re still trying to get used to me, to my power, and not just ignoring me like the Joe Blah Donut Boy I used to be.  Souled, fangy, and strangely definitely NOT vamp, not to mention these headaches and fragments of the future I’ve started getting.  Nightwalkers aren’t supposed to get those, but then, I’ve been through a dimensional portal or two, and Giles is still doing research and going to get back to me on that one.

My gaze crosses the door, and I watch as my beautiful…boyfriend (?) sweeps into the Bronze.  Yeah, he’s dramatic sometimes, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.  The waitress walks up to him, and I have to concentrate not to fang out.  Why wouldn’t they go for him?  He’s gorgeous, walking sex on strong, long legs.  Bleached hair (which looks stupid on anyone but him; but then, he could probably pull off a lot of things), short, and kind of combed (ish).  High, sculpted cheekbones, everything kind of angular, which is deceptive, because he’s actually really soft to the touch.  So dangerous on the outside, and don’t get me wrong, he’s not soft on the inside, but there’s love in there, love as strong as the violence.  For those he loves, he’s willing to do anything, and the Big Bad is mostly for those he doesn’t care about.  A scar through the edge of one of his eyebrows, adding to the dangerous image, well, that and the snoggability.  Beautiful blue eyes, and I swear they change…shade.  When he’s all vamped out, they’re more a predatory amber or golden, like a bird of prey.  Normally…it’s mood based.  Like a mood ring.  Don’t ever tell him that I said that.  Although if I’m just imagining that, he’ll probably snort at me and tell me I’m halfway ta bein’ Dru.  When he’s in a softer mood, like snuggling, they’re a really light blue.  When he’s angry, but not yet vamped out, they’re a hard sapphire.  If he’s somewhere in between, they’re more of an azure.  They’re rarely the exact same color twice.  He paints his nails black.  And that duster.  He’s half in love with the duster, and I don’t actually care about it stealing his attention because I love it too.  I’m willing to do some relationship negotiation if it means he’s never losing that duster.  He’s got a blood colored shirt on underneath, and jeans that look spray painted on.  Fanged skull belt, and not paying too much attention to that in public, Xan-man.  Focus.  And boots.  Definitely got the Big Bad look going on there.

He’s…well, we’re in a relationship.  I’m allowed to think about his appearance.  A lot.  Obviously.

The waitress is flirting and he’s flirting back.  He does that.  Often.  Still, just…can’t deal, not right now.

Back to the paper.  Empty sheet in front of me.  Somehow it hasn’t managed to absorb the contents of my brain yet, despite the fact that I’ve sat with my forehead caressing it for the latter half of…however long it’s been.  Don’t wear a watch.  A while, I’d wager.  At least an hour?  So much for the theory of osmosis.

I get caught up in the trying to do homework and the headache that I kind of forget about Spike, and that’s when cool, strong hands start kneading my shoulders.  “Bad day, luv?” an English accent whispers in my ear, and did I forget the voice?  I love the voice.

I lean back into the touch, letting my brain go on autopilot.  “Mmm,” I half-heartedly agree, as the world disappears until it’s only the knots in my back going away.

“Told ‘er I was fla’ered, but my beaut boyf obviously needed me.  Bint seemed put out.”  I nearly chuckled at that, but I didn’t have the strength.  I was surprised, and flattered.  He didn’t tend to…well, our relationship was fairly new, but even so, he usually didn’t claim me.  Well, he did, but he didn’t claim the attachment went both ways.  A small marble of contentment dropped somewhere into my chest and lodged.  Love my life, did I mention that?

Eventually I felt I was expected to reply, and asked, “Mind writing it for me?”

He chuckled, and the feeling of his nonessential, cool breath against the back of my neck left good shivers running all over my body.  “’t’s cheatin’,” he pointed out, and I smiled sleepily.

“Didn’t think that would bother the evil undead,” I stated quietly, and he chuckled again, one hand moving up my neck to stroke the skin under my hair, sending me ever closer to dreamland.  All of the good.

“Don’t bother me, pet, but I’ve learnt to stand for things on principle.”  I heard all of the underlying words.  The part where he was turning good…well, to the good side, anyway, despite the evil pulsing beneath the skin.  The part where he loved this life, too, with all of our crazy…family.  We’re practically a family, now, bound by ties stronger than blood.  The part where he loves me, and I love him, and this crazy, beautiful life we’ve got going.  Perfect, this is, right here and right now.

“Ya need ta stop talkin’ ta Giles,” I threaten him tiredly, only realizing after the fact that I’ve echoed his accent again.  I can feel him smile against my hair, then he leans down to press a kiss to the back of my head.

“Ya’ll keep writin’, Xanpet, and I’ll be right ‘ere,” he promised, settling down right behind me, and I can feel myself relax, focus, just from those comforting circles he’s tracing on my back.  I lean back, and cast one more smile around to my barmy family, and they’re all smiling.  Well, except Giles, until he notices I’m looking and smiles for a moment before going back to frowning at whatever he’s scribbled on that paper.

I reach back, and squeeze Spike’s hand.  Everything’s exactly where it should be.