Waiting to Be Found

[madimpossibledreamer]

I've run out of old/semi-old Buffy stuff to post on Tuesdays, so that might switch over to some non-Buffy old writing I found for a bit.  On the other hand, we've gotten to one of two series I'm really excited to start posting.
This is, legit, a post-Xander-dresses-as-Dante-for-that-Halloween fic.  It’s parallel to the Alexander Gibbsverse story Shared Jurisdiction, with the difference that Xander retained more of the appearance (white hair and blue eyes), since Gibbs would’ve commented on that one if that was the case.  (I really should mark those as crossover with DMC, too, since it’s pretty obvious where I was/am going with it with the Redgrave thing.  In fact I'll go do that right now.)  On that note, Dante heals most things, but the thinking with keeping the eyepatch there was the First’s priest has special damage capabilities, so Xander can’t just heal that back.
For those intimidated by the crossover list, though, know that the focus is mostly on Leon and Xander-who-retains-the-half-devil-thing from Halloween.
(xander insisted I not use the words 'class clown' to describe him, even if they're very appropriate)

Main Points:
Buffy/Devil May Cry/Resident Evil/Background NCIS Crossover
Chapter Summary: Moving on isn't easy.
Word Count: 945
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Pre-Leon/Xander

 

             “Leon, you really need to get a girlfriend.”  Apparently even Hunnigan needs coffee now and then.  It’s weird actually being in HQ at the same time she’s working, so she’s not this body-less voice on the other end of the line.
             He’s a little irritable, all things considered.  Being grounded due to an injury is always annoying, but at least he’s working, catching up on paperwork.  Doesn’t have to sit alone in his apartment.  He might as well get a cup, too.  “You volunteering?”
             “You wish.  All I’m saying is that pining after Wong isn’t going to get you anywhere good.”  She’d been on that tack for a bit.  He’s an adult, capable of his own choices.
             “Who’s pining?” he scoffs.
             He’s never seen anyone angrily sip coffee before.  “On the last mission she showed up, she got you shot.”
             She didn’t pull the trigger herself, he thinks but doesn’t say.  And, of course, that’s still a sore spot, both verbally and physically.  He very carefully doesn’t rub his side at the reminder.  “I’m sure she didn’t mean to.”  His voice is quieter than he intended.
             “Please?  You’ve got some time off coming up.  Take it.  Go.  Have fun.”  He’s…well, also never heard her plead before.  That’s new.  She’s probably actually worried about him, then.
             A part of him—the naïve, romantic little kid he’d been as a cop, had been hoping—but femme fatales didn’t settle down with the hero, did they?  Still, he can have some fun with this.  “I’ll be back before midnight, mom.”
             She smirks.  “Make me proud.”  Sometimes she plays along.  Which is almost as fun as riling her up.

             “Xander, wasting away after Anya isn’t good for you.”  Willow’s poking him, but he’s comfortable hanging out on the couch for once.  Gibbs is having to deal with the kiddos for once, so it’s the perfect time for a nap.
             He yawns, exaggerated, and sinks deeper into the couch, not opening his eye.  “Plenty of widowers never remarry.  What’s so wrong about it?”
             The slight hesitation tells him that she’d considered pointing out he’d never actually gotten married and decided it was too cruel.  “Nothing.  But you’re lonely.”
             “I’ve got a gaggle of Slayers to herd.  I’m not lonely.”  He doesn’t have the time to be lonely.  They’re a handful.
             “Abby’s nagging me.  Nagging.  Me.  Do you know how bad it is to get that far?”  He’s not sure what they’re up to, though he half suspects dates in which they plot to take over the world and half suspects they’re just acting like they’re long-separated twins.  He’s not sure which one he prefers, but he’s happy they’re happy, at least.
             He sighs slightly and opens his eye to see her face way too close, just to let her know she’s got his attention.  “All right.  So what do you want me to do about it?”
             “Go out for a night on the town.  See what happens.”  She sounds too bright, too confident…
             He glances at her, eye narrowed.  “This isn’t like with Amy, is it?”
             She waves that off.  “Please.  Nothing that specific.  I’m using the good, not the bad.”
             “Fine, fine…you know I can’t promise no demons, right?” he reminds her, and she snorts.
             “You forget, Xander.  I know you.”  Demon magnet, huh. 

             “You have got to be kidding me.” 
             Leon hadn’t figured out where he’d even go to meet girls (he’d only had any real luck in school, and even then he was painfully shy), so he’s in no real hurry to get anywhere.  Even if he was, he can’t just walk past a white-haired old man, staring at the metro line map as if it’s personally offended him.  Sure, it’s not quite what Hunnigan had suggested, but he’s not going to ignore this.
             “Hey, can I help…you?”  The face turns to look, and it’s a visceral shock to find that the guy is about a quarter of the age he’d guessed, based on the hair.  That stands out almost more than the eyepatch covering the left eye, or the brilliant, almost unearthly light blue of the remaining eye.
             “Yeah, it’s real; I didn’t dye it.  Went white early from the stress of babysitting my best friend’s sis,” the guy jokes, and it occurs to Leon that he probably should’ve figured the age out from the voice.
             “I’m sorry,” he apologizes instinctively.  He hadn’t meant to be offensive.
             The guy waves it off.  “I’m used to it.”  If anything, that makes him feel even more guilty, not less.
             “The offer remains; you need help?”  Maybe he can make up for it.
             “California boy who moved to just outside London; you’d think I’d have figured out a train map by now.  This is the second wrong stop I’ve gotten off at.”  He waves at the map, a frustrated edge to the gesture.  “Might as well be written in…well, wait, not Greek; I actually know that one…”
             Leon flashes a smile at the embarrassed mutter.  He’s definitely impressed.  “You’d think I’d have learned by this point, but I’m not a D.C. local, either.  Still, we can bumble through it together, if you want.”
             “Shame shared is shame halved.  Or something.”  The man holds out a hand for Leon to shake; he’s actually got a good grip, unlike most civilians.  “Xander.  I gratefully accept your gallant offer.”
             “Leon.”  On impulse, he bows theatrically, and when he straightens the grin on Xander’s face tells him they share a sense of humor.  “Your carriage awaits.”  He gestures in the direction of the trains.
             “Oh brother,” his new traveling companion gripes, only his tone is merely amused.  It’ll make for an adventure, anyway.