Xander Harris (rhymeswithander) wrote in beyondwonderlnd, @ 2008-11-01 01:59:00 |
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"BING-DONG!" chimed the electronic and completely bell-less doorbell of the Summers residence, prompting Xander to scrunch his nose faintly. How people ever got around to thinking doorbells went 'DING-DONG' was beyond him because if anyone ever really listened -- really listened -- that first note had all the makings of a 'B.' Which was just the sort of tangential thinking that Xander usually found himself immersed in when standing on a doorstep. Most people might've gone about hammering out a nice opening line to the conversation that would commence when the door opened, but thinking in conjunction with talking often didn't happen with Xander Harris, Lord of Spontaneous Yammering. Besides, when all else failed a simple "Hi" did the trick, didn't it? He shifted the box tucked under his right arm, making sure the 'olive branch' offering inside wasn't smooshing all up into the corners... because after the whole 'little' incident about accidentally shipping Buffy and Cordelia off to be fair game for slayer hunters? There was plenty to be saying sorry without tossing something else on the heap. Buffy shuffled down the stairs, frowning. Though she wasn't nearly as hurt as she looked last night, she still had a bandage on her upper arm where that spiny-looking demon. Whatever he was. The rest of her was cleaned up fairly easily with a little soap and water, though Buffy preferred to overload on the soap, and that it was bubbly and nice-smelling. Just to be on the safe side, she took another shower this afternoon, and that was precisely when the doorbell rang. There was a note by the door from her mother. She scooped it up as she opened the door. Hmm, looks like mom's gonna be out for a few hours. Yay me! "Xander, what are -- is that a pizza?" She couldn't get a decent enough view of it. "Cause if it is: you are my new best friend. I am starving." Xander's eyes followed after Buffy's, coming to rest on the box with a small amount of bemusement. "It's... not really a pizza," he replied after appraising the idea and with some lingering sense of 'oh crap, why didn't I think of that?' Duh, pizza. Even the hardest of hearts have melted for a slice of the good cheesy stuff, and it was way easier to get than a cookie cake (seeing how every town always seemed to have a minimum of five pizza places). A personalized cookie cake that somehow ended up reading 'Happy Birthday Buddy!' despite not even mentioning a birthday or a Buddy. The least Xander could figure on was that the world worked in strange ways and that rule about half price for screw-ups on cakes was nothing to complain about. "Pizza-like, though," he amended brightly, untucking the box from beneath his arm and holding it out. "You'll like. Promise. And what happened to your old best friend? 'Cause a guy's gotta wonder how quick you go through those and if all it takes is a pizza to usurp the bee-eff-eff ranks." "Cookie cake?" Buffy took the box and cracked it open. Cocking an eyebrow, she smirked. "I hope you know my birthday by now, Buddy." She stepped aside to let him in, flipping her hair in the process of turning. "The last guy got bumped out because he didn't bring a pizza. Or a circular-shaped foodstuff." Buffy gestured toward the living room, setting the box down on the coffee table. "Mom's at the gallery, got the place to myself. I was thinking about vegging on the couch for a while. Giles doesn't need me till later, and I could use the rest after last night. That vamp on the tv gave me the wiggins. He was just too Saturday Night Fever for me." "Cake of the cookie," Xander confirmed. "Complete with the wrong name and the wrong occasion! But I figured... y'know... it's cake. It's cookie. That's two out of three and that's way better than I did on last week's bio test -- so I'm likin' the odds." Trailing in after Buffy with a quickened step (given that the whole dialogue at the doorway found him forgetting the part about actually coming inside), he closed the door shut, and grimaced as another thought occurred: "Which uh... let's not mention that to Willow. She's really keen on the not abysmally failing thing and it wasn't abysmal! Just really, really bad." "So, what with the disco and vampires now?" he began again, hoping to gently breeze over the subject of school. Buffy was more than happy to oblige. When her favorite teacher couldn't even remember her name (even when she'd JUST told it to her), Buffy was beginning to loathe school. And her mother was on her now about SATs, and getting out of Sunnydale -- now that Faith the Slayer was around. Faith. Buffy had a sort of love-hate thing with her. Obviously, Faith didn't care one bit about school, but she also didn't think first before round-house kicking either. "No clue. It was purple, and he managed not to look like Clay Aiken. How's that for scary?" Buffy plopped down on the couch and kicked her feet up on the table. "There was a spiny-headed demon, too, but he got blown up. And some vamps, but I dusted one, and Cordy gave the other a stern talking to which... surprisingly worked. He ran off. Remember the Gorch brothers? It was the one I didn't get to kill last year. So how come you're not out with Cordelia or Willow? Not that I'm not happy to see you; it's just..." And so went poof the faintest remaining inkling of a school-based thought. It was a defensive mechanism. All Xander needed was anything else to latch onto and it was so-long to the scholarly discussion. Having disposed of that proverbial rain on the parade, he swiveled around, snagging the open seat next to Buffy on the couch and taking a generous stretch -- that talent of somehow taking up all the open space around them without even trying as only guys seemed to know how to do. It was when Buffy hit the part about Cordelia talking a demon into submission that he cracked the smile that had since been replaced by a wavering sort of frown-y deal. "That's my Cordy," he reflected, somewhat to himself until snapping out of it and realizing that wasn't the idea of his swinging by. "Oh, you know. Just in the neighborhood. The neighborhood we both live in, so I guess I'm always in the neighborhood... Anyway -- I was feeling kinda lousy about the whole uh... disco-vampire-Clay-Aiken-exploding-demon Buffy dove right into the cookie cake, pulling off pieces instead of heading to the kitchen for a knife. She handed Xander a manly-sized piece, and gave herself a much smaller (with more icing) slice. Pretending to mull it over for about half a second, she said, "Mm. It's working. For now. Until someone comments on my hip size, and then I'm blaming you. Besides... I'm pretty sure that those vamps and demons weren't on your agenda for me and Cordy. Coincidence strikes once again in Sunnydale. I'm more bummed about not winning Homecoming Queen -- and that dress that cost my entire year's allowance is ruined." Ever a bit of a kid around the sweets and treats, Xander had already chomped off half his reapings of the harvest. And having left himself with a mouth too full to reply, he opted for a wide shrug and a sympathetic nod that did it's best to sum up the following: I'm still sorry about the ultimate suckfest your night was, and your dress, and your hips look fine, and my train of thought is completely headed in a direction that you don't need to know about so c'mon, Xander, focus! He swallowed, haplessly looking at the rest of his cookie cake. "You can say that again. But hey... at least you and Cords worked it out, right? I think that's the real crowning prize, here! In a Disney movie sort of way where everyone wins." His mouth pulled into a doubtful line. "Okay, so I don't buy that one, either. No hope for the dress, huh?" "No hope for the dress. It's been bombed, torn, shredded, gassed, and tarnished. Not to mention, I think I tore it when I was climbing into the limo." Buffy pouted. She had to be honest, though; the dress's color didn't quite look as good on her as it did on the dummy at the store. "But yes," she said, more sincerely, and looking at Xander's face -- which, of course, was stuffed. "I'm glad that Cordelia and I got things sorted out. I'd hate to have to guilt trip you guys until you came back to my side." She grinned widely. Xander pulled a smile in return. She really didn't need to know that he hadn't voted for her. He didn't vote for Cordelia, either, but somehow that first point seemed to be leading the movement about not mentioning anything about taking sides on crowning queens. "Hey, if it's worth anything -- the shindig itself wasn't exactly something we mortals call fun. Ask Will and she'll tell you all about our amazing night of hovering by the punch bowl. At one point we even drifted over to the finger sandwiches just to shake things up." "Oz was on stage most of the night, huh? Cordy was with me, so you were both dateless." Buffy made it a point to be as blunt as possible sometimes. Especially when it wasn't exactly a sensitive subject (or so she thought). "I heard Scott showed up. With another date." Buffy looked down at her hands, and thought about Angel. Of all the people she could tell, Xander was not it. Besides, in another week or two, Angel was going away to Los Angeles, leaving her behind. She wished she'd told someone he was back, but it was complicated, and she didn't want to lose her friends. Again. "Pretty much," Xander agreed. Which was, by far, the stupidest thing going. It was just the night before, practically, when it was Willow in his arms. Okay, so things broke off really quickly once they'd gotten down to the kissing, but he'd thought about the What-If scenario where Willow was his date to Homecoming. It was almost as if wishing for that had backfired given that things more or less seemed to have turned into keeping each other company in the wake of absent dates -- no smoochies, no dancing, and a whole of nothing when it was all tallied up. He sighed heavily. There'd be no talking about that one. "Oh, yeah. I think Faith threatened good him for you," he continued, shaking off the need to mope a bit for his own teenage drama. "I gotta say, she's a real team player when there's no team around." Buffy snorted. She and Faith had to work together, but it didn't mean they played well together. Faith was just so... There was only so much wrassling with alligators and sleeping in the nude a person can take. Not once, Buffy found herself wondering if she had the upbringing that Faith had, if she would have turned out the same way. Oh, no use thinking about that, because she hadn't and she wouldn't. "How'd Cordy take not being Homecoming Queen either?" Having stuffed the rest of his cookie into his mouth, so that both hands were free again, Xander took the advantage and threw them both up as he shrugged. "I think she's gotten all the glowering and cold-shouldering out of her system -- and I've done my groveling and sorry-ing, so thing's should be back to normal within the year." He sent Buffy a crooked grin. "Y'know, what I mean by 'normal.'" "Meaning not really but we'll pretend it is anyway?" Buffy chimed in with a false look of hope. She knew as well as Xander did that nothing was normal on the Hellmouth. For example... "What did you make of that whole bit with Oz and Peter and Debbie? You think girls really want a man who's a little (or a lot, in Pete's case) mean? I mean, are we all just sort of... a glutton for punishment?" Buffy wasn't trying to push it into the suspicious territory, but Angel's sudden return had thrown her for a loop, and she was sure that all of her friends knew why the story of Pete and Debbie had hit her so hard. The boyfriend who seemed perfect, who turned out to be a monster underneath it all. Anyone who knew Buffy knew that she tended to over-think things, especially monster things. And just so Xander wouldn't wonder where this all came from, she amended, "I just meant: Normal. On the Hellmouth, that's not exactly... Pete and Debbie being the -- normal around here." Of course, Willow and Xander still didn't know that Willow's spell worked, and she wanted to tell them. Maybe she could figure out a way. "Uh..." Xander's eyes had taken to focusing just to the right of her shoulder, trying to sort out if somehow his own relationship was the real thing on the slicing and dicing table for lack of following Buffy's point. What with the kissing Oz's girlfriend and cheating on Cordelia... Good thing that Buffy clarified, though, and he immediately snapped back to attention. "Dunno, Buffster. I'm kinda gender-handicapped when it comes to knowing what a girl wants in a guy -- but why a girl would stick around a walking case of Jekyll and Hyde? Sounded like he was a good guy before the monster episode kicked in." He leaned in, reaching to break off another piece of the cake. "I mean... why would else would anyone stick around a person that's done 'em wrong? Probably wished he'd come around to being his sunny old self again." Buffy swallowed, clearly uncomfortable by Xander's little diatribe. Unnerved would be a better way to word it. She shrugged and shook her head. "I dunno. I mean, it wasn't his fault --" Or Angel's "--n-not really anyway." There was just no easy way around this, and Buffy sighed and looked at Xander. "Willow's spell worked; Angel was -- was cured when I had to kill him." "Oh?" Xander asked, tracing back over the conversation to see where Angel came in. "Oh," he then corrected as he pulled a small frown. It wasn't for Angel's sake that the heartstrings tugged, either -- if there was any consistency when it came to Angel it was that Xander did not like him then, didn't like him now, and somehow that wasn't patched up over whether the guy managed to get a soul back or not. "I'm sorry, Buffy," he finally told her, trying not to allow himself the chance to slip in any of his own opinion about Angel. "It wasn't your fault, though. You did what to had to do." "Too late. Story of my life," she said, glancing down and away from him. "I know you and Angel didn't get along, and I'm sure you're glad that he died --" There. That was nice and non-specific. "--but you have no idea how it felt. One minute I was fighting Angelus, then the next... Something went through him. He had no idea what he'd done, but, uh, he just held me. So I kissed him, told him I loved him, and then I shoved a sword into his chest. Acathla sucked him into hell, instead of the world." Of course, Buffy was still under the impression that it was her fault that Angelus emerged. After all, if she hadn't slept with Angel, he would have stayed Cursed. Ms. Calendar and Kendra wouldn't have died. And best of all, she wouldn't have her newest little sister calling her out all the time. Talk about being put in a rough spot. He'd never hidden his dislike for Angel before in front of Buffy, but she had him at a disadvantage now. This? Wasn't exactly the cheering up visit Xander had originally counted on, and trying to argue a point when he knew that she did love him -- insomuch as that was even possible after what Angelus had done (so call him a skeptic) -- probably would nullify all attempts to make peace with cookie cake. "Look, you know me and Angel weren' t pals, but no one's rejoicing over that one. The saving the world business has its cost, and I'm... I'm sure Angel's found a place somewhere or maybe he got some rest out of knowing he did his part." Suddenly something clicked. "That's the real reason you ran, isn't it?" Xander asked, treading the eggshells of that one as softly as he could. "Most of it, yeah," Buffy answered with another shrug. Cringing, she looked up at him with what she hoped was an apologetic expression -- less with the 'oops, I brought up a bad subject' and 'yes, I realize I was an idiot those months.' "I mean, Willow in the hospital, your arm, Giles tortured, Kendra... God, Ms. Calendar? It was all my fault, you know? If I hadn't -- w-with Angel, none of it would have happened. It's all blood on my hands, and I don't know if I can wash it off. I'm doomed to be Lady Macbeth for all eternity. Maybe I should fling myself off a balcony or something, too." She took a deep breath and nibbled on the bit of cookie she still had in her hands. "I just... I don't want there to be a resentment between us Xander. This thing with Cordelia and Homecoming? That wasn't so big a deal -- okay, fine. A little deal. But it wasn't about beating Cordelia. It was about getting to do something that isn't just Slayer stuff, you know? I just want to look back and say I was there. Something that wasn't just death and losing loved ones and vampires." Sometimes, those things all went hand in hand. Xander looked down at his arm, flexing his fingers as the memory played over in his mind about how things almost nearly fell completely apart. "Things happen, Buff," he offered. "You're doing the 'What If' game and I think I can vouch for that one leading on to not-so-good outcomes. No idea who Lady Macbeth is, either -- probably because I fell asleep in English -- but I think I speak for everyone when I say: No balcony jumping. "And you did it, right? The whole homecoming thing. Didn't win, natch... Okay, idea: we take a permanent marker and we write 'Buffy wuz here' in the school lobby. Let's see someone try to dispute the hereness of Buffy Summers, then." He stopped, recounting the points made so far, then added: "I also mentioned no balcony-jumping? Yeah, no balcony-jumping." "They can just paint over it," Buffy remarked with a smirk. Xander was always good to cheer her up: be it by making with the funny, being goofy, or, well, botching something. "Okay, okay, I'm being extra-cranky, I know. But it's been a rough year. Give me a break. Not literally, of course, but a break. And check on the no-balcony-jumping. I'm too pretty to leave a splattered corpse." Huh. All right, so the defacing school property scheme might've lacked accounting for despoilers like paint. "...Point," Xander admitted after a length filled with considerations for alternative routes. Alternative routes that all tanked, at that. Resigned to a temporary defeat on that one, he turned over to the next topic of conversation. "Y'know, your case reminds me of another hero whose story is widely-told and revered these days, but wasn't always. When it came to wealth and fame? He was ignored. Action... was his reward." "Xander? Speak English, please?" Buffy was used to his random tangents, but it didn't mean that she couldn't bring him down to Earth every once in a while. "My spidey-senses are tingling." One brow raised at Buffy, framing Xander's best take on a mock-skeptical expression. "I think it's time to own up, Buff. You're pro at geek-speak. Didn't even have to drop a hint that time." And, sensing the emotional jams of their talk having breezed over, he plunged right back into the cookie cake, taking the portion reading 'HAPP' from the box and somehow retreating with only half of it remaining in his hands. "Love this stuff," he added around a full mouth -- at least, he tried to. It was mostly just pointing at the cake, and nodding with a thumbs up because... y'know. Not talking with food in your mouth and manners and things. They'd long since foregone manners with each other. Especially after that embarrassing episode where she had thrown herself at him wearing nothing but a raincoat. My God, Buffy thought, why in the world am I thinking about that? "I'm a different kind of geek. I'm a boot, a bat, and a bastinada kind of geek. Give me a weapon, and I'm your girl." "And it's the Buffy Summerses...es of the world that give all species of geeks something to be proud of," Xander replied, grinning over at her. "Being that you're probably the only one of us that registers a positive bad ass factor 'cause the rest of us? Phhhft." He took another bite, then switched gears entirely as a stray thought that had been wandering about the interior of his skull the whole time thus far finally latched on: "So tonight's a home alone night, huh?" "A world of uh-huh. There's no way I'm setting one foot outside of this house, short of an apocalypse," Buffy agreed. Though in her head, she clearly had one thing she wanted to do, but she certainly couldn't mention that to Xander. He'd have puppies. Or bears. Then she whined and let her neck go slack against the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling with a worried look. "I just jinxed it. Why do I always do that?" |