Amnesty Is Granted

The office was dark when Angel slipped through the door and he winced when the door slammed shut behind him. Xander's confession had been, well, not surprising but unexpected. Xander knew him better than anyone, even Buffy in some ways, and he knew the exact reason why there was no way Angel could get involved with anyone ever again. His demon had never known the meaning of restraint and was now crazed.

If Angelus was ever let loose again, he'd try to destroy the world. Again. But first he'd go after Xander, because the soul cared for the boy and the demon wanted to possess him. Because Xander was both his weak link and his safety net. Angel knew that even though Xander cared for him, loved him, his boy wouldn't let his “evil half” free to destroy. Xander was too dangerous to Angelus, and if he ever lost his soul again Xander would be the first to die.

But he wouldn't stay dead. Even though Angelus had been irritated by the boy, he'd been impressed by the way Xander never gave up. And Xander would hate being an “evil soulless bloodsucker”.

He went into his office and hung up his coat. He could hear Doyle's heartbeat in one corner of the room and closed his eyes and waited.

”Bastún!1”

Apparently he wasn't going to have to wait long. “My parents had many faults, Doyle, but I can assure you they were married at least a year before I was born.”

“Ní mórán thú!2 That boy is down in his room, sitting in the dark listenin’ to some of the most god awful music I've ever heard. He thinks it's all his fault, that he's unlovable. Now I don't know Xander that well but I do know that he's stood by you through thick and thin and won't take any of your nonsense. If that doesn't make him your perfect match I don't know what would, but he seems to think he'll never be as good as Biffy.”

“Buffy.”

“Whatever. All I'm saying is that you owe him, eh? A little reassurance that you don't hate him would be nice. For Christ's sake, it's not like he tried to jump you!”

Angel sighed. It was so much easier dealing with people when he never actually talked to them. “You don't understand, Doyle...”

“No, and Xander doesn't understand either, you great big tit! He's even doubting that you consider him a friend! Jesus H. Christ on a pogo stick! It's no wonder I've been driven to drink, hanging about you all the time.” Doyle continued to mutter under his breath as he threw himself into the chair in front of Angel's desk. “Give me one good reason, other than your little curse problem, that you should stay away from the lad?”

“He's been hurt before; I don't want him hurt again.”

“Then don't hurt him.”

“He’s a better man than I am, Doyle. Xander is braver and more loyal than anyone I've ever met. Buffy died once and I had given up on her. She wasn't breathing but he was able to give her CPR and refused to believe she was gone. And he did it, he saved her, and all I could do is watch. He's a true gaiscíoch3, a white knight. Xander can do better than someone like me.”

“Will you shut your gob and stop making excuses?! You're scared and, considering what could happen, I don't blame you. Xander isn't thinking that, he's thinking...hell if I know what he's thinking right now. I'm not your damned matchmaker, I'm just the demon who gets visions. I get enough headaches with those without having to deal with your broody self. Go grovel at the boy's feet and then let him hit you upside the head for being such an eejit. I'm going out for a drink and maybe catch a football game down the pub.” Doyle got up and made his way to the door but turned to look at him. “You know, most people would think that being loved by someone like Xander would be a blessing. He might just be blessing enough so that you don't have to worry about your curse.”

“Good night, Doyle.” Angel still didn't want to talk about it. Not to Doyle, at least. The other Irishman thought it was all so easy.

“Whatever. I hope you've pulled your head out of your arse by the time I get my next vision. What you were thinking when you let that priest take you over the side, I'll never know.” Doyle continued to mutter to himself as he left and Angel gave a small smile. Doyle liked everyone to think he was this Irish lout who couldn't do a thing right but, the reality was, he was a good friend and really cared about people. Hopefully, one day the other man would tell him what he felt the need to atone for but, until then, Angel would do what he could to help his friend.

After all, he knew about grief and atonement.

Doyle was right, though. He couldn't let Xander go on thinking that he was unlovable. In fact, it was just the opposite. Once Angel looked past the sarcastic comments that Xander used to protect himself, he'd found a good person. A good friend. Xander never forgot what he was, who he was. Not once did Xander throw open curtains during the day, saying it was gloomy. Or ask why there weren't mirrors around. Xander didn't make faces when he drank a mug of blood or any one of a hundred little things that Buffy had done that had made him question their relationship.

Angel got up and started the locking up process, making sure all of the doors and windows were secured and what protection wards he had were working well. It was unfair to compare Xander and Buffy. For one thing, despite the fact that their friendship was a bit strained, they still were friends.

Still, it was hard not to do. In so many ways they were alike. Bright, funny, irreverent, brave. But there it ended. Where Buffy had a somewhat difficult relationship with her father, she at least had a mother who would do anything for her and had been protected at home. Xander...hadn't. He knew things that no eighteen year old born past 1950 should know. Angel remembered the short tempered boy he'd first met that had smelled of arousal and jealousy every time their paths crossed and how much he just wanted to be noticed. Just wanted someone to care about him.

Doyle was right; he was worthless bastard. A miserable worthless bastard who had walked away from the one person he might just trust to love him because he was a coward. He made his way slowly downstairs, choosing to use the stairs because the small elevator made a loud noise that would have let Xander know he was coming.

Angel made his way to Xander's door and paused and listened. He winced at the sound of Patsy Cline's Crazy, but beyond that was the sound of even breathing and a slowed heartbeat. Xander was deeply asleep. He opened the door carefully and looked in. The small bedside lamp was still on-- Xander wasn't comfortable alone in the dark. By its soft glow he could see the still form covered head to toe in blankets. Angel winced internally again at the faint scent of salt in the air. He'd made Xander cry.

Maybe he should call Doyle and get the man to come back and kick him in the ass. He definitely needed it.

He crept closer, raising a hand, and stopped just short of touching Xander. Angel could feel the heat radiating from the boy—no, young man. He could almost feel his blood, just under the surface of the skin. Rushing around all hot and sweet and for a moment Angel lost control and just...wanted.

Angel closed his eyes and shoved his baser instincts in a box in the back of his head. That was why he'd left earlier. He'd wanted to push Xander up against the wall once they'd gotten down from that thrice-damned roof and just kiss and touch and feel. He'd barely had enough control to drive them home without crashing into anything.

He left the room as silently as he came and stood outside the closed door. He'd let Xander sleep for now. In the morning they'd talk and then...well, who knew what would happen. Angel made a mental note to make sure to get up before Xander. He always loved it when Angel fixed him breakfast.

*****

Xander woke up earlier than usual. For once there wasn't any confusion of why his eyes felt all dry and burning, or why his arms and shoulders hurt like hell. Or even why he felt as if someone had reached into his rib cage and squeezed his heart. He remembered it all, including Angel going away and not coming home until the early morning hours.

Which was why Xander was up so damned early. He woke up and remembered and felt really crappy so there wasn't any reason for him to even try to go back to sleep. It wasn't going to happen. That didn't mean he had to get up though, and he laid in bed for a while. Just staring at the ceiling and being depressed. It was a nice ceiling for such an old building.

Eventually though his bladder protested his non-movement and he forced himself out of bed. He grabbed some clothes and listened closely to the door. Angel was in the small kitchen in the apartment so that meant the bathroom was available and he quickly scurried across the hall.

He did his usual morning routine: pee, shower, shave teeth, although he did spend a lot more time with the hot water hitting his shoulders than usual. Even after five minutes of water as hot as he could stand it didn't really help. It was going to make it hard for him to pretend that last night didn't happen.

That was his plan at any rate. Complete denial. He wasn't going to ask Angel if he was okay even, the other man was out there puttering so evidently he was. He was going to go out there, put on a Zeppo mask and not let Angel know just how much his heart was breaking.

But as he got dressed, Xander realized how hard it was going to be. He hadn't really acted like the silly donut boy since he'd left Sunnydale, and even before that his attitude around Angel had changed ever since that night that Faith...

Xander shook his head and shoved those thoughts away. He was just going to go out there and be normal. Well, maybe a bit goofier than usual but that was normal for pre-LA Xander so maybe Angel wouldn't notice.

As he shuffled out of the bathroom, Xander couldn't help but feel a bit nostalgic for one of his old ugly shirts. They had been an eyesore, sure, but when he was wearing one of those most people didn't really look at him. It had been a way of hiding in plain sight and he didn't have that now. All he had was jeans and a tee shirt with an over shirt that actually, horror of horrors, matched.

He made his way to the kitchen slowly. As he showered he'd caught the sounds of Angel swearing and knew that the man was attempting to fix him breakfast. Angel could do eggs and toast, no problems. Ask him to microwave bacon or fix hash browns and it was a recipe for disaster. It was amazed Xander sometimes that Angel knew enough about microwaves to heat his blood up without blowing anything up.

The table was set when he entered the room. Well, his side had a plate and fork and stuff. Angel's side just had his giant mug and Xander knew if he went and looked in it there would be a nice cup of blood.

But he didn't, because as much as he knew that Angel was a vampire he just didn't need to smell semi-fresh, warm blood. Ew.

“Morning. There's scrambled eggs with cheese and bacon if you want.” Angel looked odd, but Xander just didn't feel up to trying to figure him out right now. Give him a week though and he'd be on it.

Xander tried to summon up a smile but he had a feeling it wasn't quite right. “Sure Angel. Thanks!”

“Great! That's...great. That you want eggs. I'll have some for you in just a second, and there's a box of pastries on the counter. You know, if you want.”

If he was feeling like his normal self Xander would have taken a poke at the vampire at that statement. Angel was so not good at apologies. In fact when it came to saying he was sorry the other man was kind of a dork.

But that made Xander feel better in a way. For all that Angel was two hundred and twenty some odd years older than him, he was still a bit of an idiot when it came to personal friendships. Maybe he hadn't realized he's hurt Xander's feelings until after he'd come back to the apartment.

Xander crossed over to the counter and opened it. Hopefully if he shoved some food into his mouth Angel would be appeased and it would cover the fact that he really wasn't up to babbling quite yet. There was an assortment of all his favorites, cinnamon-sugar, jellies, chocolate and glazed. He grabbed a jelly and shoved it in his mouth making the appropriate “Mmm...'s good.” noises to cover up the fact that he'd gotten all choked up.

That was exactly why he liked Angel. For someone as old as he was, Angel could be really clueless about certain things. And then he'd go and do something really sweet, like remembering all of Xander's favorites and he'd get all...squishy inside. Cordelia had made him feel many things, but squishy had never been one of them.

It was nice, but it hurt all at once.

Thankfully Angel slid a plate in front of him before Xander decided to open his mouth and say something stupid. The next few minutes he busied himself with eating and trying to ignore the fact that Angel was looking at him. Watching. Eventually he slowed down because if he ran out of food his mouth would be empty and he might try to talk and that would a Very Bad Thing.

It had to happen though, and finally he was left with nothing but a bit of egg to chase around on his plate nervously.

“Thanks Angel, that was good.”

“Xander, I'm sorry.”

They both spoke at the same time and Xander looked down at his plate. “Listen, let's just...forget last night. I mean, I shouldn't have said...and you. Let's just not do it okay? Life goes on and all that crap.”

Angel shook his head. “No, I can't. I was wrong, I shouldn't have left. I should have said something but...I kind of got scared. Nervous really.”

Xander sighed. “If it's about the curse you don't have to worry. I mean I'm just starting to figure out I might possibly like a guy, it's not like I was going to tackle you saying “Do me now you throbbing hunk of man!” A simple “Thanks but I'm not interested” would have been acceptable.”

“But that's just is. I wasn't worried about the curse. It's just that you're so good and brave and I don't deserve someone like you. And I got into the cycle of thinking that I couldn't let you love me because you're just too special.”

Xander held his breath. Did that mean...

“Doyle caught up to me when I got back last night and gave me a swift kick though. Said that you were probably the one being on earth that would put up with all my moods and that I'd better not screw it up. Well, I'm paraphrasing of course, since there was lots of swearing going on.”

Suddenly Xander was feeling much better. That sounded like he at least had a chance. “Paraphrasing huh?”

“Well actually he told me I should grovel at your feet and let you hit me for being an idiot. I'm not real good at that but I can try, if you want.”

Suddenly Angel got up and started clearing the table. “Look, what I'm saying is...I don't know what I'm saying. I just know that I love you, and I don't know what we can do about it. The Curse. Because what I feel for you is so much more than what I felt for Buffy. You're not my second choice in anything Xander, you're my everything.”

*****

1. Bastard!
2. You're Worthless!
3. Hero, warrior