Oncoming Train

Title: Oncoming Train
Author: Scylla Blue
Rating: N-17
Pairings: Angel/Riley, Xander/Spike. A little Willow/Tara, Wesley/Gunn.
Disclaimer: No, I do not own them. Which is a pity, because I loved Riley, deviant that I am.
Summary: Angel’s life gets turned upside down with the help of TPTB when one of Cordelia’s visions sends him to Sunnydale and he learns how the Scoobies have coped since Buffy’s death.
Author’s notes: In this, Buffy is not resurrected. I started this story in my ‘seer phase’, where I wrote a couple of stories with seers in them in various fandoms. One of things I like about Riley is he had such great potential to become virtually anything. Hello, experiments? My Riley really doesn’t vary from story to story, physically wise, but when I started this one a friend of mine who’s a huge Angel fan pitched for the Brooding One being of . . .exceptional size (waggle eyebrows). She even thought up an explanation (which gives to wonder how long she‘s thought about Angel‘s assets - lol). So in this one, Angel’s dick is all hers.
***

Chapter 1: Wednesday.
It was odd, where life took you, what routines became commonplace, settled into without realization or intent. Even for life on the Hellmouth, mecca for weirdness and evil, some practices should be questioned for merited sanity. There were some things that went even beyond evil’s ken, into that uncertain place few would willingly tread without heavy ordnance and serious back-up.

Xander World. That place where strange met evil and made it dinner. The creator, owner, and licensing director of Xander World smirked at his own witty internal monologue, but decided not to share with the tourists for fear of lowering ticket sales. A lot had changed in Xander World over the last few months: the main attraction had died; the lovely daily triple feature had suffered a sudden realization of her own mortality and fled to parts unknown; and Xander Harris, one time clown, was bumped to ringmaster.

“Xanpet? Xander?” Deep, ‘fuck me’ voice intruded into the evolving fantasy of lions and himself in a top hat and whip, bringing Xander back into the kitchen of his apartment. He blinked owlishly at the large mug of cooling blood cupped between his palms, then looked up at the vampire perched on the counter in front of him.

“What?”

“You’ve got that scary smile again. Stop it and give me me dinner.” Another big, though happy, we-have-great-sex, surprise was the bleached wonder, ex-Big Bad himself, Spike. After Buffy had died, and Anya had given him his ring back, comfort had come from an unassuming source. Odd, how easily he’d stepped into a relationship with another guy, let alone a vampire, but Spike was what he’d needed, was his, and he wasn’t giving him up. He also wasn’t ruling out weird alternate dimensions, either.

“Sorry. Zoning.” The slender blond stared at him a moment longer, but took the cup he offered. Dipped a chipped black fingernail in and swirled the congealed layer on top into the rest. All evidence to the contrary, Spike was a fastidious eater. A dainty tongue ventured out to lick the digit clean and Xander couldn’t resist. With a smirk, he snatched the finger into his own mouth. Warm, coppery, not enough to make him gag in revulsion, just a taste of what kept his baby alive.

Spike’s eyes dilated and the finger in his mouth crooked, playing with his tongue. “Cor,” the blond breathed, “I’m gonna need that finger back, luv.” Xander bit down. “Or not.”

Happy sucking on that finger, could be happier if he was sucking on something else, Xander finally let go when Riley wandered in. Dressed for patrol in dark jeans and a ribbed turtle-neck, the ex-soldier barely looked at the other two men as he headed for the stove, nose aiming him for the most readily available source of food.

“Hey, Ri’.”

“Xander. Spike. Taco sauce?”

“Yeah.” Soldier boy had been another big surprise. Somewhere, in the wilds of nowhere, he’d heard about Glory and tried to make it back. The military threw every obstacle they could in his path, but he’d gotten back to Sunnydale. A week after Buffy’s death. It had hit the hayseed pretty hard, and Spike had speculated he was going to regress back to being a bloodwhore, letting the undead feed from him, but he hadn’t. That first night, after helping to vanquish a clutch of Ouktuan demons, he’d stayed with Xander and Spike, and somehow never got around to leaving. And if he cried himself to sleep some nights, or woke screaming from nightmares, or just looked too damn fragile, nothing was said of it. He chose to stay in a place that had to be just one huge painful nightmare because he was needed to hold the line.

He also didn’t seem to care what Donut Boy and Hostile 17 did to each other. Xander figured it was that whole ‘Don’t ask, Don’t tell’ policy of the military being worked in full force. Or Soldier Boy played both sides of the court, which definitely played into more than a few of Xander’s fantasies. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d climbed into Riley’s bed to soothe him, but he’d stayed the perfect gentleman. Curse his good manners. Of course, after listening to sobbed, half coherent accounts of some of the things Riley had been put through in the Initiative’s experiments, sex had been the last thing on his mind. More like hiding in a closet with a shotgun.

Fantasies of Riley and Spike, himself and Spike, and various combinations of the three played through the young man’s head as they settled down to finishing dinner. Or rather, he and Riley cooked while Spike provided distracting and unuseful commentary. An ordinary evening in the Xander Household and the brunette found himself humming as he worked around the two blondes. His blondes.

The humming got louder.

Riley shot him an amused glance over the spoon of taco sauce and he grinned back, waggling his eyebrows. Meals were eaten at the kitchen counter Spike was currently perched on, the apartment having come unequipped with a dining room. For guys, it didn’t really matter, but Dawn had complained often enough that Xander was wondering if they should create the space for a small table. Family activities were pretty important to the teenager they’d all taken on the task of raising, unorthodox group that they were. Who knew how a kid raised by the Scooby Gang would turn out. As long as she didn’t sprout tentacles or hair in any unusual places, however, Xander would consider his job done.

He dumped the meat into the sauce, then squeezed around Spike to retrieve the pre-shredded cheese, his candidate for ‘the next best thing since sliced bread’. Of course, there were benefits to tight quarters, long fingers stroking down his side and squeezing his ass being one of those. Dawn could adapt.

Dinner was eaten with little conversation. Spike nibbled on the cheese like a mouse and Xander made a comment as to what the vampire’s costume should be this Halloween, earning him an affronted Big Bad glare. Riley mentioned he’d switched shifts at the club he bartended at so he could watch Dawn Saturday night. Life couldn’t have gotten any more ordinary.

Then Spike asked what they were hunting tonight and Riley went into ‘debriefing’ mode, having answered the phone when Willow called with the night’s agenda. Listening to the blondes casually argue the effectiveness of a battle axe on a Glorgian’s titanium laced hide, Xander’s feeling of normality grew. All was good in Xander World.
***

Ducking a Glorgian’s clumsy swing, Xander came in under its guard and cut into its side with one of Willow’s magicked swords, neatly sidestepping the spray of violet blood. They’d found a clutch of about a dozen Glorgians nesting under the St. Richmond Golf Course, Tara’s far-seeing spell revealing the hatchery before Sunnydale became overrun with the voracious demons. Demon bunnies, Spike had called them, living to eat, kill, and reproduce by the hundreds. According to one of Giles’ books, a clutch could wipe out a medium sized town in little under six months. Not something Xander wanted to see first hand.

Thankfully, Willow had thought of a way around their near impenetrable hides, producing a potion that made them vulnerable to steel. His best friend was near the entrance to the cave, watched over by Riley as she threw knives through the air with bespelled accuracy, lips continuously moving in spell after chanted spell. A demon near Xander fell with a knife through the eye and the brunette flashed the witch a thankful grin.

Spike let out a whoop a couple yards away and Xander spared his lover a glance, wondering if the happy sound was from exercised violence or if his blond had just in indulged in something particularly vicious. The sight of the petite vampire riding the shoulders of an enraged Glorgian, throwing an arm back cowboy style, wasn’t really all that unexpected. Hell, he’d been fearing worse. The ride ended when one of Willow’s daggers found its mark and Spike rolled with the fall of his ‘horsey’, bouncing up to tackle one of the remaining demons.

The last demon tried to make a run for it, but didn’t make it past Riley. Slumping tiredly to the ground, Xander disinterestedly watched Willow move from carcass to carcass, sprinkling a dark powder that turned the exposed demon blood yellow. Since Buffy’s death and Giles leaving, Willow and Tara had redoubled their efforts to learn as much magic as they could, becoming a pivotal part of protecting Sunnydale. There was no way the three guys could have kept the demon population in check without them, and Xander tiredly grinned in unabashed pride. That was his Red, witchy all the way.

A strong hand pulled him to his feet and Xander let Riley guide him out of the cave. Spike bounced near the entrance, eyes alight as he waited for the final act. A minute later there was a whooshing noise and Willow came running out, the cave catching fire behind her. It was a new practice Riley had insisted on, destroying the carcasses, leaving no evidence. Remembering Adam, Xander had readily agreed. If one whacked out scientist could create a Frankenstein’s monster, so could another.
***
They were on their way home when Xander’s back pocket started vibrating. Shoving Spike and his roving hands away from him with a warning glare, he pulled out his cellular. “Xander Harris, sex god open for worship,” he quipped.

//Xander, it’s Wesley. How are things in Sunnydale?// The British accent was more refined than his vampire’s, sounding like an announcer for the BBC, but the teenager could hear the suppressed chuckle over the line. Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, of course, would never be so uncouth as to laugh at such bad humour. Xander’s grin widened.

“Hey, Wes’. Everything’s copasetic. We took out a clutch of Glorgians, Scooby style.” Spike waggled his tongue at him, but he shooed him away. The blond pouted, then darted ahead to where Willow and Riley were quietly talking. Hooking an arm through the witch’s, he started to skip them in circles, forcing Riley to retreat to the relative safety of the street. Willow laughed and held on tightly.

//Really?// Genuine curiosity flavored the word and it was easy to imagine the ex-Watcher’s eyes lighting up. After Giles had left, Wesley had become their primary demonology consultant on Cordelia’s forceful recommendation. They’d been surprised to find themselves actually liking the Brit.

“Yeah. We’d send you a souvenir, but we toasted it. So, what’s up?”

//Ah, yes. I was elected, or rather, everyone else left, leaving me to be the one to call to let you know Cordelia had a vision regarding Sunnydale and that Angel shall be arriving tomorrow evening to deal with this new crisis.// Did he say all that in one breath?

“Oh.” He wanted to say, ‘Spike’s going to have kittens, will you want one?’, but that didn’t sound very diplomatic. Not like Wesley didn’t know, but his eyes locked on Riley’s back as the ex-commando snatched a greenish Willow away from the spinning Spike, and all he could think to say was, “Oh.”

//All she could see were woods and a cemetery, but she recognized the cemetery.// There was a pause on the other end of the line as Riley set a swaying Willow on her feet, strong hands gripping her thin shoulders. Spike continued to twirl, black duster partnering him in a tight spin. //It is where Buffy is buried.//

Spike stumbled to a sudden stop. Riley bent his head close to Willow’s, and Xander realized the two fuckers could hear the whole conversation. Should have known. “What,” he started, stopped, and tried again. “Time frame?”

“Soon. The night of the full moon. Cordelia will be coming down Friday morning. Please, all of you, be careful. We don’t know yet what this new threat is.”

TBC.