Chapter 17
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Previously:
“…The only actions that can be construed as sincere are those that you do selflessly, altruistically. Any good that you do is negated when your only incentive is what you might receive in return,” Penny passionately informed the elder vampire.
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“Angel, if you want to finally face up to the hard truth, I’ll give it to you, but don’t waste my time if you aren’t interested. I can help you, but you need to want to help yourself too.” Penny crossed her arms as she waited for a response to her words.
A myriad of expressions flitted across the brooding vampire’s face, the most visible being betrayal. He looked around the room at the faces of those that were supposed to support him, believe in him. They weren’t supposed to choose the soulless vampire; they were supposed to choose him. Angel was unable to get past the fact that he wasn’t being listened to. He had for so long been the voice of reason and wisdom, that these changes to the balance of his power were throwing off his equilibrium. He didn’t understand what they were saying. He couldn’t take it in. It took him back to a time when his father’s words would wash over him. He didn’t understand any better then than he did now. If he wasn’t enjoying himself, how could it be selfish? What were these people talking about? “I don’t understand?” he whined pitifully.
“And yet….not surprised.” Xander offered his opinion. Putting his hand up, as if to hold off anyone who wanted to stop him, Xander made it clear that he was determined to have his say. “No. I won't stop. Not this time.”
Turning to Angel, Xander addressed him directly. “Listen up, Dead boy. For years I’ve watched you play the tragedy card. Yeah, I was jealous when I was a teenager. You were dating Buffy and I wasn't, but I'm not the same as I was before. I think I've done some growing up. Doesn't appear you have. Basically all that cursed soul did was turn you back into the loser you were in Giles’ books. You think that as long as everyone thinks you’re miserable, they’ll forgive you for anything. ‘Poor Angel…he’s got so much guilt’…news flash, hair gel…you deserve the guilt. You. Are. Guilty. Personally, I don’t think anything that’s said here is gonna change you, but I don’t give a fig about them trying. What I do care about is you coming in here and trying to pull some vampire garbage on Spike. You want a lesson in control, Angelus?” Xander sneered at the surprised look on the brunette’s face. “Look at Spike.”
Angel felt compelled to glance at the blond master vampire. Spike’s features were closed and it was impossible to decipher the emotion he was feeling. The only indication of his rage was the tightly clenched fists at his side.
‘No more. Never again,’ Spike’s demon raged. He’d been forced to endure it as a fledgling, forced as a master to put up with the indignities when he was injured, but that time was past. Long past. Angelus had always underestimated him. The elder vampire had no clue as to his actual capabilities in a fight. Spike didn’t doubt for a minute that a hundred years of training, defeating two slayers, fighting countless others, and spending the last year fighting bigger and stronger opponents would make him more than a match for the unsuspecting bastard. Part of him wanted to reach across the table and rip the throat out of the pompous, bloody prick, but another part of him knew that he was making his new family proud, with his show of control.
Spike desperately wanted to mock the elder vampire with the knowledge that he and Xander were developing a friendship - something that Angel had never had. But a voice that sounded suspiciously like Joyce was telling him that he was better than that, that he had the support of the people that mattered to him; he didn’t need to rub it in the face of his clueless grandsire. So he held his anger and his tongue.
“Xander, why don’t you take Spike and go and pick up some dinner for us all?” Penny suggested, hoping to defuse the volatile nature of the situation. She didn’t know if Angel was worth saving, but the psychologist in her had to try.
“Yes, that might be best. It will give Spike a chance to calm down. Maybe the two of you could engage in some amusing but pointless banter about Angel and Riley. That always puts you both in better moods,” Anya offered sagely, nodding her head at her own wisdom.
Spike and Xander shared a look and a snicker as they made their way out of the Magic Box. Anya looked on benignly, positive that her idea had been the cause of their obvious mood change. She didn’t see the looks of resigned amusement that some of the others in the shop were sending her way.
~*~*~
Riley watched as Xander and Spike left the Magic Box together. ‘Xander!’ he thought as he mentally snapped his fingers, ‘Xander will help me’. He dismissed the chipped vampire as unimportant while he got out of his car to stealthily follow the unsuspecting pair.
~*~*~
“Cardboard’s followin’ us,” Spike quietly informed the carpenter.
Xander resisted the urge to look back over his shoulder as they walked towards the Chinese restaurant. He’d missed this sort of interaction with a male friend. He really hadn’t had any guy to be…well…a guy with in a long time. Not since Jesse. A pang of grief touched him as he thought about his dearly departed friend.
“I’m sorry about your mate,” Spike offered a tentative but insightful balm to the grieving teen.
“Thanks.” Xander smiled sadly at his new friend. “So,” he abruptly changed the subject and lightened his tone, “Why do you think we’ve got a khaki shadow?”
“Prolly wants to enlist you,” Spike answered before grinning at his brunette companion. “Can I hit him?”
“Seriously? You think he’s gonna ask me to help him get back with the Buffster?” Xander snickered at the thought of Buffy’s response to that little scenario.
“He’s a bit like the poof…thick-headed.” Spike shrugged his shoulders, as if saying ‘well it’s only an opinion, but its mine’.
~*~*~
Riley silently followed Spike and Xander. His army training had taught him how to track his prey, without the need for his full concentration. As he matched their pace, he paid no attention to the interactive behaviour of the two because he was too busy formulating his plans. Xander wasn’t particularly smart. He could be manipulated. Well, no, manipulated was the wrong word. That would imply that Riley was being underhanded, and if there was one thing that Riley Finn wasn’t, it was underhanded. He was a good-hearted country boy, an upstanding citizen, and up until meeting Buffy, an outstanding solider. The All-American picture of perfection.
~*~*~
“So…can I hit him?”