Breaking a Slayer

Breaking a Slayer: Chapter 35

Disclaimer: I don't own them.

Spoilers/Ships: This is AU. Buffy/Spike/Angel.

Distribution: Sure, just let me know.

Feedback: Is always nice.

Rating: NC-17.

Author's Note: Chapter 35 contains quotes from BtVS ep "Becoming II." -Rhi

*

Xander crept silently, well as silently as he was able, which was, frankly, not very, into the mansion. Giles had informed Willow and him that Angel and Spike would be leaving Sunnydale that night. To Xander, this news was definitely of the good. The sooner Buffy was away from those blood-sucking fiends, the better. However, Xander wanted confirmation that what he'd seen in the cemetery the other night wasn't par for the course. If it was a one time thing, he could forgive Buffy. After all, getting caught up in the moment, however perverse and disgusting that moment might have been, was ok, in Xander's mind.

After all, he thought, as he plodded through the ground floor of the mansion, finding nothing but a vast array of copper-bottomed, highly polished pans hanging and chiming slightly in the evening breeze from the kitchen, he himself had gotten caught up in the moment with Willow, which of course, heralded his breakup with Cordy. Xander regretted that with all his might. Nothing had come of that illicit moment with Willow but grief. He hoped that Buffy felt the same about her moment with the two vampires in the cemetery. Then they could all just move on to the living and start being friends again.

It wasn't that he wanted to be unfaithful to Anya, not really. But if Buffy was alone and grieving about the loss of her undead sort-of-lovers, then it was his job to comfort her…right? He had always been there for her, Buffy's "White Knight" as Angelus had put it. Xander just wished that Buffy would realize how much he had loved (still loved) her. The only time he'd ever really given full reign to it was when he'd been possessed by the hyena.

He'd claimed afterwards not to remember it, but he did. He'd pinned her to the floor and her tiny body had felt so soft, so vulnerable underneath him. He'd been so close. He could have had her before Angel if only…NO! That would have been rape and rape was bad, right? But still, she'd been so soft, smelled so good, especially once she'd gotten afraid. He'd wanted to bite her, to rip off her clothes and bury his cock in her heated warmth while he tore out her throat. It made him slightly sick to recall the feelings that his hyena-self had relished with such passion, but not sick enough to forget the ache in his dick that had come from grinding into her gorgeous body.

Jealousy over that lost chance was the reason for his only betrayal of his friend (love). He remembered it vividly:

*

Willow, bandaged and pale, had turned to him. "Xander, go to Buffy. Tell her what we're doing. Maybe she can stall." And he had gone. Buffy's White Knight to the rescue.

He had caught up with her outside Angelus's mansion. Its dark façade loomed ominously in the twilight. He'd seen Buffy walking toward it at a determined pace with something wrapped in a cloth. He had come running out of the bushes on the hillside and jumped into the street in front of her. She had startled at his appearance and taken a reflexive step back.

Buffy had looked at him in surprise and said, "Xander!"

He'd replied, "Cavalry's here. Cavalry's a frightened guy with a rock, but it's here."

Buffy held up a stake. He tossed the rock aside and took it from her. "That's better," he said.

Buffy had looked at him with concern, a concern that he cherished. "You're not here to fight," she said as she started walking. "You get Giles out, and you run like hell, understood? I can't protect you. She pulled off the cloth and discarded it, revealing a sword. "I'm gonna be too busy killing."

Xander had looked at the sword and tried to be suave, "Now, that's a new look for you."

Buffy replied, much to his joy, "It's a present for Angel."

Xander said, before he thought, "Willow." He paused. "Uh, she told me to tell you..."

Buffy looked inquiringly at him. "Tell me what?"

Xander had paused to think and committed treason against his friend, then and there. "Kick his ass."

Without a word Buffy continued walking. He had hesitated for only a moment before following.

*

It had been the moment of betrayal. He had hesitated, but in the end, his jealousy, his hatred of the demon (and the man) who had hurt (stolen) Buffy, hurt Willow, killed Jenny and might have killed Giles got the better of him. He knew it and the memory shamed him. Even more than Angelus, it was Xander who had forced Buffy to kill Angel. Had he only told her the truth, she might have been able to delay Angelus long enough for Willow's spell to take effect. Xander would never know. And neither would anyone else, for no one knew. Killing Angel, not Angelus, with her own hands had traumatized Buffy to the point that she could barely speak of it to anyone. She'd certainly never asked Xander about his actions. He was grateful for that small favor.

Since no one was downstairs, Xander climbed the stairs slowly, straining his ears for any sound that might lead him to Buffy. Surely she needed him, needed the comfort of a friend's loving arms, even if only for a moment. He'd be satisfied with that.

*

Spike awoke in a tangle of cool and warm limbs, momentarily confused as to where he was and what had wakened him. He'd never woken alert and ready to respond, it was one of the more human aspects of his demon. Angelus had beaten him repeatedly for it, but he couldn't seem to change his habits, no matter what.

Looking about the room he discerned no immediate threat and paused to take in the bed in which he lay entwined with his sire and mate. Buffy lay, all golden and disheveled in the loose embrace of his sire, whose eyes, Spike noted, were also open, though heavy lidded with sleep and what looked like pleasure. Angel nodded at Spike in response to his childe's inquiring eyebrow and they both scanned the room again.

A human was in the mansion. They could both tell. Spike had no idea what time it was, but knew that Angel was expecting the Watcher at six of the clock. Still, this didn't sound like the Watcher. Giles, for all his typically British stiff-upper-lip and tweed (which still filled Spike with illicit nostalgia that he never let on), moved like a predator, albeit one just a bit past its hunting prime. This human moved clumsily, as if uncomfortable in its skin and unused to harnessing the power of its muscles. The tread was definitely male…the shoes…sneakers.

Angel snarled and Spike realized a second later, precisely which human it was. Then the door opened.

*

Xander opened the first door he came to, moving softly and hoping that Buffy lay within. He'd heard nothing yet, but hadn't given up hope of finding her. It was only five, after all, plenty of time for hugs and cuddles before Giles arrived at six. Peering into the gloom of the heavily curtained room, Xander could barely make out a huge four-poster bed. He stepped inside and moved to the bed as he saw a dim shape on it. As he moved closer the shape separated itself into three bodies, two pale and one slightly tan and Xander realized that he'd just made a very, very big mistake.

Two pairs of golden eyes blinked at him and a low, deep growling filled the room.

To be continued…