Fox's Journal

Xander/Angel Vid

Mon, 12 May 2008 23:24:04 GMT

Title: I Don't Love You
Vidder: Loki Fox
Pairing: Xander/Angel
Rating: R
Warning(s): brief nudity
Feedback: duh.

Summary: Sometimes love isn't enough.

V/N: So this little thing has been sitting around on my comp for a little over a year. I think i made it all the way back in the fall of 06 when i broke up with my then boyfriend...it seemed appropriate at the time :P. Anyways, since i haven't posted anything in quite awhile i figured it be nice to share with you guys.

A larger less pixelated version can also be found on the site for download here.

Music: My Chemical Romance ( I Don't Love You)

Lyrics:

Well when you go
Don't ever think I'll make you try to stay
And maybe when you get back
I'll be off to find another way

When after all this time that you still owe
You're still, the good-for-nothing I don't know
So take your gloves and get out
Better get out
While you can

When you go
Would you even turn to say
"I don't love you
Like I did
Yesterday"

Sometimes I cry so hard from pleading
So sick and tired of all the needless beating
But baby when they knock you
Down and out
It's where you oughta stay

And after all the blood that you still owe
Another dollar's just another blow

So fix your eyes and get up
Better get up
While you can
Whoa, whooa

When you go
Would you even turn to say
"I don't love you
Like I did
Yesterday"

Well come on, come on

When you go
Would you have the guts to say
"I don't love you
Like I loved you
Yesterday"

I don't love you
Like I loved you
Yesterday

I don't love you
Like I loved you
Yesterday

Status Update

Sat, 19 Apr 2008 05:05:31 GMT

Ok, so do to RL issues stampeding all over the place for the last month I've had to be pretty MIA from the fandom. For anyone that's interested I'll be back to updating the Things that I've Lost series as well as my Xangel website K&C, which is also in severe need of an update, sometime after these next two weeks are over and hopefully things will have cooled back down to manageable levels.

Things That I've Lost: Ch. 7 (Xangel AU)

Mon, 17 Mar 2008 08:15:29 GMT

Title: Things That I've Lost, Ch.7: Fathers
Author: Loki Fox
Pairing: Xander/Angel
Rating: FRT-13
Warning(s): Language
Feedback: Seriously? Aren't all writers feedback whores?

Summary: The boys share a heart to heart moment.

Previous chapters: found here.

A/N: Another short piece that the muse really wanted to write. Thanks again to all my faithful readers who left me feedback on the last piece. You guys rock. ^^

~ Fathers ~

“So how’d it go?”

I shake my head a bit as Angel’s question knocks me out of my daze. I turn to him as he pulls himself out of an uncomfortable looking hospital chair.

“It was good…well ok, maybe not good. Because hello, good would be not having to come to the hospital at all, let alone every two weeks.”

“It could be worse.”

I throw the vampire a mock glare as we make it out of the hospital and begin heading towards his car. “I know that. This is just me venting. Your job is to nod along agreeably. I vent, you nod. It’s a basic but efficient system.”

Angel slides an amused smile my way as we both climb into the convertible. “I’ve been told I’m a very good nodder.”

“You know, I don’t know if I should simply laugh at that statement or question it further.”

We both share an amiable smile. Something I would have never thought possible two weeks ago, or should I say six years ago? Whatever. Timeline wackiness aside I never thought I’d be here with Angel. It’s been nice, despite some of the bumps we’ve run into. He still draws up whenever I mention Buffy, as well as the whys surrounding my loss in brain activity the last three years. I’ve tried to squeeze some info outa Fred but I’d have an easier time getting Willow to come hang out on senior skip day. Weirdness is defiantly abound, but I’m used to that, much more so than my newfound vampire friend.

Huh.

I roll the word around in my head a bit. Yeah. I guess me and Angel really are friends now, and look, the world still’s spinning. Go figure.

“So everything’s okay?”

His voice startles me out of my thoughts again. I feel the corner of my mouth tug into a smile as I take in his jumpy body language. He never did like being left in the dark—ironically. “It’s really killing you not having the full skinny isn’t it?”

He sighs. “Is it really that obvious?”

“In a without a doubt sort of way, yeah.”

He makes this funny little groaning noise.

“Hey don’t worry man,” I chuckle. “I’m just happy you didn’t rip that nurse’s arm off when he said you had to wait in the waiting room.”

“Yeah well, he’s lucky I had other things on my mind.” He says with a hint of a snarl.

That nurse really was lucky.

He turns to me then, his expression serious. “Everything really is ok though?”

“For the moment yeah.” I say, realizing the time for teasing is over. “All the white coats are still pretty much in shock over my miraculous recovery, which of course means they want to do more tests—many many more tests.”

“You’ll get through them, and I’m here for you.”

I feel something tug at the pit of my gut at the simple way he says that. I smile back at him. “I know.”

“And your memory?"

“Still as empty as ever, with no signs of when or if the noggin is going to fill in the missing blanks, which according to them could or could not happen any day. Because how helpful of a timeframe is that? Oh, that doctor that Reyes pulled in was also really nice,” I say as I remember back to the helpful doctor. “He kept me from hyperventilating during the CAT scan.”

There’s a loud slamming noise that registers around the same time that I notice that Angel’s just put a sizeable dent into the driver’s side door.

“Whoa big guy. The car is our friend.”

“I forgot about that,” he mumbles. “How could I forget about that!” Cue door bang number two.

I stare at my sometimes-crazy vampire with confusion. “Do you wanna explain what your talking about? Because I’m pretty much still siding with the door right now.”

He sort of crumples in on himself a bit. A few seconds go by before he finally collects himself and turns to me. “Did being in there make you think of him?”

I feel something cold slide against my spine. “Him? Wh-what are you talking about?” No. He can’t know about that. It’s gotta be something else.

He looks me straight in the eyes. “Your father.”

I’m unable to hold his gaze. “My father? You’ve lost me Angel.” I muster the strength to say with bravado. “Is that some type of euphemism? A codeword you and I have or something. They can be really helpful, you know? Code words. Willow and I used to come up with em’ all the time, nothing too big, just little things, like sharing her lunch. She’d say her mom packed her too much food again and that was my way of knowing she understood that my mom didn’t pack me a lunch at all.” God. Why the hell can’t I just shut up, I’m supposed to be routing him away from this conversation, not towards it.

“I know.”

“Yeah?! What the hell do you know Angel!” I shout as I turn back to him.

I feel something shift between us as his sad brown eyes stare back into mine. “I know what it was like for you growing up, being trapped in that house, with them. I know how alone you felt, how unloved. I know that your mother used to flick cigarette butts at you when she’d get upset, and that sometimes your father would lock you in the closet for hours, which is why you don’t like small spaces.”

I turn away from his gaze. “Shut up Angel…”

A long silence goes by. Every muscle in my body is twitching to just grab hold of the car handle and bolt. He’s not supposed to know those things. Nobody knows those things, not even Willow. Not specifics. I feel exposed. Dirty. God, what does he think of me now?

“When I was alive, before Darla and Angelus.” His voice is low and quite, as if to keep the words closer to himself. “I was raised to follow in my father’s footsteps. He was a stern and cold man, who didn’t take kindly to a free spirited son. So he’d beat it out of me. Canes were his favorite but sometimes he’d change it up; sticks, belts, stokers, as long as it left a mark. They’re the only scars I bear now, since the turning, the only thing I have left from that time.”

I turn back to him. “Angel, I’m sorry, you didn’t have…”

“I wanted you to know.” He places a hand on my shoulder, squeezes. “You deserve to know.”

I smile back at him. Wondering not for the first time what the hell I did to make things so different between us. That he seems to get me more than anyone I’ve ever known. I feel a shot of laughter burble out of my chest at the zaniness of this whole mess. “Angel?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we go home?”

I see a tiny spark pass over his eyes for the briefest of seconds as his smile lights up the car. “Yeah,’ he says as he revs up the engine. “We can do that.”

Things That I've Lost: Ch. 6 (Xangel AU)

Mon, 25 Feb 2008 01:22:44 GMT

Title: Things That I've Lost, Ch.6: Eggs
Author: Loki Fox
Pairing: Xander/Angel
Rating: FRT-13
Warning(s): Language
Feedback: Seriously? Aren't all writers feedback whores?

Summary: Xander, Angel, and eggs?

Previous chapters: found here.

A/N: Ok so this little blurb has been poking around in my head since I posted up the other chapter last night. I was initially going to skip this little light hearted scene but after my muse hit me up with some major smackdown I had no choice but to conceed and write this out. So for all the readers that were requesting another faster update this is for you guys. Just don't get too used to this kind of turnaround. ^^

~Eggs~

“So…eggs?” I ask.

“Yeah, is that okay?” He throws from over his shoulder at the stove.

“Yeah its great. It’s just, well… kinda weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well for one you're cooking, as in actual human food, that’s enough to tilt my pinball machine all on it’s own. And two, you're cooking for me.”

He laughs as he makes a little swirly motion with the skillet. “I’m not allowed to cook?”

“Uh…no?”

He throws a look over his shoulder before turning back to his task. “Besides, it’s tradition.”

I readjust my chair so that’s it’s resting between my legs as I throw him a doubtful gaze. “Tradition?”

“You heard me.”

“Well?” I can feel myself wishing for that eye ray again as he taunts me with his silence. “Care to do some explaining?”

I track his movement over to the table with a glare as he slides the omelet out of the skillet and onto the plate on the table. “Nope.”

“Angel!”

“Alright alright.” He laughs as he sits down. “But start eating before your stomach decides to devour us instead.”

“Har Har,” I say right before I take a bite, “Hey! This is really good!”

He smiles as he leans back in his chair a bit, content to simply watch me eat I guess.

“So make with the splainy.” I say between bites.

“Oh, right,” He shakes himself forward a bit. “Eggs are kind of a tradition for us.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Stop interrupting.” He laughs at my eye roll. “And yes, they are. We get into a fight and the next day I make you eggs, sort of like a peace offering or something.”

It sounds a little too out there for me, even with the general weirdness of this quirky little life of mine, but I’m really not on grounds to contest as I scarf down more of the yummy tradition eggs. “We must go through a whole lota eggs around here.”

“You have no idea.”

We both share a conspicuous smile. “So, uh, does this egg tradition go both ways?”

“Huh?”

“Well, do I not make eggs for you? Cause believe me, I got kicked out of home ec. for a reason, so unless I’ve taken some culinary classes since then that sounds more like chemical warfare than a peace offering.”

“No your pretty much still a disaster on that front,” he says with the quirk of his lips.

“Okay, so what’s my version of happy-peace eggs?”

“Uh…”

“Oh! Do I-do I make you blood?” Why's he so red all of a sudden? It’s not that weird of a question.

“Uh, yeah…sometimes, I mean, you would.” He says somewhat embarrassed now I guess.

I think it over for a sec before heading towards the fridge. Talk about barren. It doesn’t take me long to find what I’m looking for. I close the fridge and head over to grab a knife out of the drawer I saw him stumbling around in earlier before he kindly interrupts my very considerate task.

“Uh, you really don’t have to do that.” He says getting up.

“But I want to.” And I do—want to do this for him that is. It just seems right somehow.

“But…”

“Look Angel, you made breakfast for me so now I’m going to make breakfast for you. So shut up, sit down, and let me do this ok?”

He throws his hands up in surrender and takes his place back at the table.

“Good…uh…you heat this up right?” Ok, so thinking things through isn’t always my strong suite, it can’t be that involved, I just want to make sure I do this right so it doesn’t go all over the place or something. Cuz that would be of the major ick factor.

“Yeah usually, unless…well…” my glare tells him that he better finish that sentence.” Unless I’m too hungry, but usually…it uh, tastes a lot better warm.”

“Oh.” Well that makes sense. “So is the skillet ok, or…?”

He somehow nods through his embarrassment. Geez it’s only blood. It’s not like I’m draining it out of a cow or I guess a person would be the optimum….ok, segueing away from that thought.

I let the blood cook for a bit, guessing its mechanics can’t be too different than heating up tomato sauce—something I can manage.

“Your not…uh, too weirded out by this?” He finally says after a couple minutes float by.

I stir the question around in my head a bit before answering. “You know, not really, it’s really not that bad and the smell kind of calls to her a bit, enough for it to be more familiar than gross anyways.”

“Huh? Her? You’ve lost me.”

“Yeah her; the hyena, she stirs up a bit at the smell.” I carefully pour some of it out of the pan and into a mug that I bring over and set in front of him. “I still remember what it’s like you know,” I sit back down at the table. “The hunt, that feeling of power as you stalk and finally suppress your prey. Taking in the heady warmth of the kill as it breaks and shatters like a dying star in the palm of your hand.” I shrug a bit at the fading feeling in my head. “So yeah, I get it, what your blood craving is like, at least a little.” I throw him a sly smile. “But I guess you probably already know that.”

“No, actually.” He says slightly dumfounded. “I mean, you used to mention it occasionally sometimes but never with such, uh, descriptiveness.”

“Oh, well good.”

“Good?”

“Yeah, good. It’s not fair that I have to always be the one finding out new stuff every time we turn a corner.”

He smiles at me before sipping at his blood. “Hey! I thought you’d probly burn it a bit but it came out pretty good.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I laugh. “So uh…we good, now that we’ve done the whole exchange of breakfast goods traditions thing?”

His smile makes me look forward to seeing more of this wonky new tradition, cuz lord knows that won’t be our last fight.

“Yeah. We’re good.”

Fic: Things That I've Lost: Chapter 5 (Xangel AU)

Sun, 24 Feb 2008 12:38:41 GMT

Title: Things That I've Lost, Ch.5: Meetings
Author: Loki Fox
Pairing: Xander/Angel
Rating: FRT-13
Warning(s): Language
Feedback: Seriously? Aren't all writers feedback whores?

Summary: The day after.

Previous chapters: found here.

A/N: So it's been pretty much forever since I updated this story, but as promised, it has not been shelved. Merely sidetracked. Blame K&C for soaking up my free time ;). Thanks again to all the readers who posted wonderful feedback for the last chapter and kept asking for more even though its taken me this long to get around to dipping back in. You guys inpsire me even when the muse isnt around.

~ Meetings~

I pull my hand back from the doorknob when another wave of trepidation washes through me. I again curse myself for acting childish and stupid- it’s only Deadboy in there, not a band of zombies, or worse, Cordelia. The thought sobers me enough to turn the knob.

“Angel?” I mumble as I crack his door open a smudge, just enough to peek inside. When no response comes I press further into his room, slowly closing the door behind me in case I’m disturbing his royal annoyance’s beauty sleep- nothing’s worse than a cranky vampire in the morning.

I allow my eyes a cursory glance around the room, trying to imagine Angel in the dullness of this bedroom. Honestly, while my bedroom was lavish despite its lack of personal character, Angel’s is downright Spartan. A small hub of a bed with a non-descript drab covering, accompanied by nothing more than a small dresser and a nightstand. At least Faith had enough decency to throw a T.V. into the mix of her idea of interior decorating 101.

One more thing they have in common I guess, despite her slightly better taste. But that’s not right; not really, despite Angel’s outwardly broodiness he’s always been a creature comfort type of guy. His mansion on Crawford Street and his place behind the Bronze were both pretty good cases of that, especially if your eyes knew what to look for, which isn’t that hard when your eyes aren’t used to looking at much of anything.

With a slight shake of my shoulders at the vampire’s absence and decorating taste I turn to leave when the sight of something out of the corner of my eye roots me in place. I navigate over to a small wooden dresser as if drawn there by an unseen force. My fingers trace the intricate outline of the wooden frame before I grasp the picture with both hands and pick it up.

It’s a photograph of me, or rather, of us. Me and Angel. Who apparently is able to get around that pesky no reflection clause these days. By the looks of the background it was taken from somewhere in this hotel, although the place seems a lot brighter and alive somehow. He’s got an arm around my shoulder and we’re both sort of just smiling at whoever is behind the lens. I ghost my hand across the frame, as if to make the picture more real somehow…it’s just, I look so happy. Young. Despite the obvious changes from what I’m familiar with. I look like nothing matters but this exact moment captured in this picture frame

God, have I ever been that happy? That Free?

A loud slamming noise startles me out of my thoughts and with slightly numb fingers I set the picture back down and make my way out of the room.

I follow the repeating slamming noise away from Angel’s bedroom and down a flight of stairs until I finally reach a small wooden door tucked away from the main center of the Hyperion lobby. I don’t hesitate on turning the handle this time and with curious steps make it down only the first few planks before the sound of voices causes me to freeze up on the staircase.

“…it’s not that, it’s just, this isn’t how I wanted things to be.”

“Angel…”

There’s another loud slamming noise, of what I can only assume is a punching bag, which cuts off the girl’s sentence. My angle on the stairs prevents me from knowing whom exactly Angel is talking to. I frown searching my head for the whereabouts of that voice.

“Angel.” She begins again more assertively. “You have to stop this and look at the big picture. You’ve got him back. Alive and for the most part without damage, do you know how lucky you are?”

“I know that.” His voice sounds slightly off, as if he just got sucker punched.

“You sure?” She snarks back. “Because the Angel I know, the guy who’s spent the last three years fighting a war everyone told him he couldn't win, the guy who held on to Xander when everyone else told him to prepare for the worst, the guy who’s always been my champion even during some of our darker times. You know. That guy. He wouldn’t be down here right now.”

“Fred…”

Fred? Is there someone else down there besides LittleCordy?

“Look Angel, I get that things are pretty messed up right now. Xander’s head is playing the mambo with a cheese grinder, I get that, I’ve been there remember? But this, you doing the whole brooding thing when you should be up there with him right now, it’s got to stop. He’s going to need you and you aren’t going to be able to help him if you turn tail and run off every time things get hard.”

“You know, I think I liked you better when you were scared of upsetting my feelings.” He says with what sounds like grudging humor.

“Well get over it mister! With Cordy gone somebody has to whip you out of these funk sensations you send us all spiraling into.”

“You know, you might just be right about that, with her…”

“Xander!?”

I startle at the sound of the voice from behind me and send up a prayer to whatever forces watch over eavesdropping fools as I feel my footing give out beneath me. When the harsh impact fails to come I peek open my eyes to the sight of a shirtless Angel sprawled beneath me. He quirks an eyebrow up at me as I stare dumbfounded back down at him. With sudden realization I spin my head back up and away from the expanse of Deadboy’s chest to the other people who are in the room with us.

“Uh….hi?”

***

“Gunn,” I say to the bald black man nursing a chipped mug of coffee, I swing my finger around the table to point at his smiling sable haired companion, “and Fred?”

Her smile brightens a bit more as she nods. “Bingo!”

“You know, for a guy whose best friends are a Buffy and Willow, I believe I can completely say with a straight face that you two take the cake for curving the norm in the names department.”

“Actually,” She holds up a forefinger, an echo of one of Willow's let-me-politely-prove-you-wrong smiles stretched across her lips, “It’s Winifred” she points at herself and then back to the other man, “and Charles Gunn.”

“To-may-to, To-mah-to.” I shrug.

“You’re one to talk Lavelle,” Angel says as he ruffles my hair from behind as he makes his way across the small kitchen to lean against the counter. I glare at him briefly hoping my eyes will somehow blast a hole to whatever is left of his shriveled heart as the other two stooges chuckle from besides me. Without any signs of developing eye rays I opt to drop my head down against the warm wood of the table instead.

“Why oh why did I ever tell Cordelia that,” I muffle. “Lord knows I should have known she’d find a way to work it against me someday.”

“Actually,” The vampire begins, and even without looking up I know there’s a smirk there ushering in whatever he’s about to say. “You told me that.”

I lift my gaze up only to confirm what I already know, yep, Deadboy smirk armed and aimed straight at me, I groan at the continued unfairness of the universe. “Of course I told you that, whatever was I thinking.”

“You know, this is really whack.”

“Gunn…” Fred mumbles as I sit back up.

“No Fred. I mean this is some really whacked up shit,” He looks straight at me. “You don’t remember anything about us? About L.A.?”

I look over to Angel quickly, he looks uncomfortable at the tension but his eyes pierce mine with some kind of unsure hope—of my answer? I shake my head slowly as I turn back to Gunn. “No sorry, I uh, I don’t.”

He looks down at the table, his fists clenching before he throws an angry glare in Angel’s direction. “And what the hell gives you the right to not tell us he woke up until now?”

“Gunn!” Fred gives him the universal shut-up glare from across the table.

“No,” He glares back at her as he raises up from the table, the sound of his scattering chair loud in the stillness of the moment, “You know this is as messed up as I do, he should of at least called us and informed us of homeboy’s condition, he owes us that much.”

She smiles awkwardly at me as Gunn exits the kitchen, “You two were pretty close,” she whispers before getting up and going after him.

The uncomfortable silence stretches out in the wake of that mini disaster.

“…are they?” I venture as I look away from the doorway and over to Angel.

“It’s complicated”

I look back over to the doorway, “I bet.”

“I’m probly to blame for a lot of it, I guess I haven’t been doing too good of a job taking care of my own lately.”

I look over to him, not exactly sure what to say to that. He spares me the trouble of coming up with anything as he takes a seat down at the table across from me.

“About last night,” He begins even though I can tell he’s working hard to muster up enough strength to sit here and do this.

“Yeah, how about we just forget about that?” So we're both chickens, it will give us something to bond over.

“I'm sorry,” He feels the need to go on, just like I knew he would. He’s always been the kind who can’t resist picking at a scab. “I shouldn’t have pushed you into that last night.”

“Look Angel, it’s cool okay, I mean this,” I wave my hand back and forth between us at the table. “This is a really big step for us, I mean at least from where I’m sitting, so what if there’s a bump or two along the way. The fact that were sitting down together at a kitchen table is still pretty outerlimits worthy for me as is. Soooo, all is forgiven okay?”

He looks pretty unsure of that and I have the niggling sensation that he really wants to just hack away at this thing until we both have to sign away our macho memberships and hop ship to the Lifetime express. Thankfully he nods instead. “Ok.”

“And, uh, I’m sorry too.”

“Huh, what for?” I can’t help but chuckle a bit at the return of the little confused wrinkle.

“For all that stuff I said last night,” I go on, internally cursing myself for not letting him just take the drop for everything so we could just go back to whatever the hell we were before all this. “About you and Buffy,” I press on.

“No, you were right Xander.”

“No I wasn’t. Well okay, I still think I’m right about the whole snowglobe theory,” Because I’m sticking with that one until I die. “But it’s not right for me to just jump to conclusions about stuff I don’t even know about, it’s been six years, I- I can’t even say I know what Buffy is like now. Or Willow. Or Anyone for that matter. You guys are all strangers to me now.” And that little thought right there hurts more then anything else.

His silence only reassures me the truth of that statement. He eyes me carefully from beneath his lashes. “You could find out you know, I could tell you what I know about them, or help you to track them down, just because we haven’t been in contact doesn’t mean their not around anymore. I’m actually pretty surprised Willow or Giles weren’t alerted somehow the moment you came off life support.”

His words help to settle something in my gut, I eye him speculatively, unsure if he knows how much their possible abandonment has been wiggling its way around the back of my mind. “No uh, I don’t think I’m ready for that yet, I’d like to get a better grip with just myself first.” It’s a cowards' way out, but it is what it is. I lick my lips unconsciously, afraid of his answer. “Are they-are they all ok?”

He nods. “Last time we checked in they were, and I’m pretty sure I’d know if they weren’t. They’re all too important for it not too spread down the grapevine.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Good, that’s good. Better than good.” I manage what I can of a smile at him.

He smiles back from across the table, and even though the silence stretches on, it’s not uncomfortable this time—that is, until my stomach does an imitation of a dying orca whale.

He laughs in such an honest way at my situation that I can’t help but join in on his uncharacteristic mirth.

“Breakfast?”

Xangel Manips

Fri, 22 Feb 2008 18:05:52 GMT

New artwork, huzzah! It's good to be getting around to doing more fandom stuff again.

These pics can also be found on K&C as well as some really nice manips by KateKat that I added last night. ^^

Fri, 22 Feb 2008 17:57:47 GMT

So ok, I've been pretty MIA from this journal for awhile. Life has been pretty wacky lately. What with school and the whole social life gig I'm still trying to work on. On a funner note I've been working pretty hard on getting all the coding fixed for the new Xangel archive I finally got finshed last month. Still not sure what was wrong there, the coding and stuff kinda just went kablooey overnight, but alas, all is well now. So yeah, if any of the few peeps who stop in here are at all interested in le Xangel fiction you guys should go take a peek.

I'd also like to let any of the readers out there know that I haven't dropped my Things That I've Lost Series, It's sort of had to take a back seat lately in favore of getting the site up and running, but now that most of the hard stuff is out of the way, at least for the time being, I should be able to start working again on the story sometime soon.

~Fox

Things That I've Lost, Ch. 4 ( X/A, Drama AU )

Mon, 05 Nov 2007 10:17:35 GMT

Title: Things That I've Lost, Ch.4: Lines
Author: Loki Fox
Pairing: Xander/Angel
Rating: FRT-13
Warning(s): Language
Feedback: Seriously? Aren't all writers feedback whores?

Summary: Xander's still down with the sickness. The boys hit a rift.

Previous chapters: found here.

A/N: Ack! Major apologize to everyone out there who's been looking forward to more in this verse. Bad bad Fox!! I promise to try to get future chapters up quicker than the gap between these last two. Thanks again to all my peeps out there who left such great feedback on the last piece, you guys are the reason I get anything up and posted at all.

~ Lines ~

“So…”

“Don’t worry.” Angel chuckles, “It’s the room at the end of the hall.”

“You know, this little trek of ours would have been a lot easier if we’d just used the elevator.” I smirk playfully. “Reyes isn’t going to like it when I tell him you put me on an expedition the same night we got back here.”

I feel that out of place warmth wiggling into my shoulder as he spins around and grabs onto me, his gaze a lance that leaves me exposed.

It’s unsettling, this concern of his. That someone of the non-willowy variety could ever look this way at me. It feels un-real, like tethers of a dream that have yet to fade. “This was dumb, I shouldn’t have dragged you up here.” He says with a voice laced with annoyance—an expression that’s not directed at me for once, but inward. I turn away from his eyes.

I don’t deserve his concern.

“Hey!” I protest as he sweeps me over his shoulder into a fireman carry. “ I was only kidding! I’m fine.” I bark out, my laughter bubbling free from my gut from the oddness of the situation. Even though I can’t see his face I know he’s smiling, and not one of those wooden-just-for-show smiles either, but an honest-to-God Angelsmile. The ones that I’m only still becoming familiar with.

I make a point to ignore the ghost of a feeling that slides down my spine as an arm pulls me closer into him. It’s too much too fast. “Put me down!” I shout, feeling suddenly wigged and unsure of myself.

“You sure?”

“Yes!” I bellow stubbornly.

He puts me down. A beat goes by as he attempts to get away with what he thinks is slyness. I narrow my eyes at the smirk he’s failing to keep in line. “You did that on purpose.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh, I bet you don’t.” Smartass. Does he really think he can pull my own lines off on me?

“We’ve had some trouble with the elevators ever since a demon attack awhile ago.” He explains as he fingers a nasty burn mark on the wall. “Out of commission ever since.” He looks back to me, his face serious. “You sure you’re ok?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, fit as a fiddle—which doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. A fit fiddle? Is that like opposed to a wimpy fiddle? Or an overweight fiddle? And how does a fiddle become fit anyways? Fiddle boot camp?” Ohmygod, am I blushing? Why does he keep looking at me like that! “Or…ok, what I meant to say was: yes Angel, thanks for worrying but I’m feeling fine.”

Somebody please kill me.

Angel just smiles back with another smile that's new for me, the one were I can tell that he’s not really here with me anymore, but off somewhere else—with someone else.

I shake myself out of the mental fog I’ve apparently wandered into as I trot to catch back up to him at the end of the hall.

“How’d you end up here anyways?” I ask my vampy tour guide as my eyes play over the turn of warping wallpaper. Water damage?

“Huh?”

“The hotel. How’d you end up here?” I say as I draw a bit closer to him—creepy hotel halls and way too many scary movies do not a composed Xander make. “Did Faith decide her little jaunt on the dark side wasn’t full of the hi-jinks she was hoping for?”

“Faith?” His eyebrow quirks. “What does Faith have to do with the Hyperion?”

“Because the Hellmouth needs a slayer.” Apparently this is making more sense in my head than it is out loud. That little confused wrinkle of his seems to be working overtime. “Since you and Buffy are holed up here in L.A. now, I figured…”

“Me and Buffy.” He interrupts, his light mood a ghost of the rigid figure before me.

“Angel?” I venture cautiously. There’s a sudden shift in the air between us, something tangible that’s hiding under the surface. The space between us feels hot, charged. The way you can sense lightening, feel its spark on your skin and in the air just before it strikes.

“It’s nothing Xander,” he grabs my arm and begins pulling me down the hall. “Just forget about it ok?”

“What? No, Angel, just tell me!” I try to snatch my arm out of his grip but it’s like trying to bend iron.

He whirls back around to me. “There’s nothing to tell Xander, I left Sunnydale and wound up with the Hyperion because my old office burnt down. End of story.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

He lets go of my wrist and steps away from me, his sigh deep and heavy as he rests his forehead against the wall. “Enlighten me then Xander, what are you talking about?”

I rub my wrist absentmindedly as I regard the back of his figure across from me. He looks like a bowstring that’s been pulled taut. “Where the hell is everyone Angel? Where’s Buffy? You don’t just drop guarding the Hellmouth to play Dick Tracy for the sheer hell of it.”

“It’s complicated Xander.”

“So un-complicate it for me Angel.”

He bounces off the wall and is in my face before I have time to do much of anything. His closeness makes me think of roses, hospitals, and Buffy. I draw back instinctively, but only award myself with a few inches before my back hits the wall. “Why do you always have to be like this Xander.” His breathe is hot against my face, a false intimacy. “The world doesn’t operate in nice little tones of black and white, color coded for your convenience so you can play judge and jury.”

“That’s great Angel. Thanks, you know, for opening my eyes to my disability to see between the lines. Glad we had this little talk, nothing makes me feel more at home than having you belittle me.” I can feel my knuckles turning white as I clench my fists against the sting of his barb. “But this isn’t about me, just tell…”

“Of course it’s about you!” His scream stops me short. Almost as much as the tightness of his arms that are now wrapped around me. Damn vampire speed, it be nice you know, to have a say in these type of arrangements for once. “Haven’t you got it yet? This whole thing— everything. It’s all about you Xander.”

I ignore the soft words and the look across his face as I shove him away from me. “Stop it Angel. I don’t want to hear any of this crap! Just drop all the bullshit and tell me where the hell the rest of the scoobies are and why you’re off running around playing the caped crusader in the city of angels.”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, how can you not know!?”

He begins pacing up and down the hall. “That’s just it ok! I don’t know. I don’t have any of the answers your looking for. I don’t know where any of them are.”

“But how is that…”

His eyes hold an unreadable pain as he turns to me. “None of them speak to me anymore Xander, I haven’t heard from any of them in years, not Willow, not Giles…Buffy.”

“But how?” I step closer to him, my eyes scanning his own for the answer. “Why?”

He turns away from my gaze. “I-I can’t Xander. I’m sorry, for everything, but I can’t.”

“Did, did something happen between you and Buffy?”

He doesn’t answer. “Angel, is that it? Did something happen between the two of you?”

Silence.

I try to pull him back to me, to pull him out of this stupor—it’s like trying to move stone. I let my arm fall back to my side, feeling dumb and small and all too myself.

“Hey, thanks for uh, showing me a bit of the hotel.” I choke out with false cheer. Why do I feel so off all of a sudden? This is stupid. I don’t care if Deadboy is all messed up over whatever the hell is wrong. I’ve got my own problems. I just—I just need to get out of here. “If its all the same I think I’m just gunna turn in, docs orders and all that. Night.” I turn and begin heading back.

“There is no me and Buffy, Xander.”

“Angel,” I exhale as I turn back to him, feeling suddenly tired. “We don’t have to do this. This thing. Us. I don’t want to know what’s wrong with you and Buffy this time, circa two thousand and five. I just wanna go back to bed and forget about the fact that I’m trapped in some horrible Bizarro world where you and I are bosom buddies and I’m eighteen going on twenty-five. I’m done with it Angel, just…just leave me alone.”

“Xander…” I shrug off the hand that settles over my shoulder. I can’t deal with this right now. I don’t care about whatever lovers quarrel he’s going through with Buffy. Just the thought of it…God, what’s wrong with me, this shouldn’t bother me so much. I start walking away from him faster.

He grips me firmly from behind again. “I’m sorry ok? I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

I break his hold as I twirl around, his words making me angry for some reason. “Sorry? Why would you be sorry Angel, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about. This is old news remember. My memory might be worth less than an opened Seven of Nine figurine, but even I know the lyrics to this little ditty.” I step closer to him, my eyes locked with his. “You two fight and argue, you think she’s too good for you, and she wants what you can’t give. You guys fall apart and there’s tears and crying, and probably rocky road ice cream and whatever bloody substitute you living impaired gorge on when life is sucksville.” The words flow through me, as if they’ve been bubbling at the surface—waiting for the chance to break free. “But you never stop, you never cut clean from each other, so you end up dancing around until you get back together and then the fun starts all over again. Meanwhile, everyone around the both of you goes back to either being non-existent or simply not important.” I’m only a hairs breath away from him now. It’s the first time I notice that we’re pretty much the same height. “So, you tell me Angel, what exactly do you have to be sorry for?”

He only turns his eyes downcast in answer. I smile sadly as I turn and walk away from him.

“Goodnight Angel.”

Things That I've Lost, Ch. 3 ( X/A, Drama AU )

Mon, 24 Sep 2007 05:31:23 GMT

Title: Things That I've Lost, Ch.3: Shells
Author: Loki Fox
Fandom: Btvs/Angel
Genre: Drama
Pairing: Xander/Angel
Rating: FRT-13
Warning(s): Language
Feedback: Seriously? Aren't all writers feedback whores?

Summary: Xander finds himself in an awkward situation.

A/N: Holy crap, this piece was a monster to write. Ever worked on just one of those stories before that just wants to fight you tooth and nail for every line you put down? I'm not sure how many times I re-wrote this because it wasn't really working the way I wanted it to, still not sure it does really. Hopefully the next chapters will be less erm...difficult than this one was. Thanks again to all the great response I got from fans, it made sticking with this bearable.

~ Shells ~

“This is it.”

The room is filled with soft golden hues as Angel flicks on a light switch. I step into the newly lit room, wary and hopeful, that I’ll be as easily enlightened. That’s how it’s supposed to work right? The mentally damaged person settles back into their old life and everything starts making sense again. That’s how its supposed to go…but… I don’t feel anything from this place. No flooding images or sudden understanding. Nothing.

It’s just a room.

I look over to Angel who’s standing stiffly next to the bed. “This is really my room?”

“It was.” He doesn’t meet my eyes. “ I-I can give you another one if you want. There’s more than enough to go around.”

“No, that’s ok,” I take in the room that reminds me nothing of myself. It feels like a shell, or an afterthought, as if its never really been lived in. Not because it lacks things, which it doesn’t, its lavish in way I’d never imagine for myself, but because it’s so impersonal. Like a toy that’s never been played with; too shiny—too perfect. “This is good.” I say with a fake smile as I jump into the bed. I stare at the ceiling as I try to picture myself here, coming home to this place.

I can’t.

Maybe…maybe I’m just that different, from the other me. The one who’s body I’ve hi-jacked. I tilt my head to look up at my silent new buddy. Deadboy certainly is.

“It’s great,” I say, hoping to clear a bit of the air between us. He looks troubled for some reason. I don’t think I’ll ever understand him, but… I guess I never really did. Maybe troubled is just this Angel’s usual expression around me, sorta like annoyed or indifferent was for the old him.

“Good.” He says, breaking the encroaching silence that had settled over us. “That’s good. I’m glad that your, uh…good”

“Angel?”

“Yeah?” He startles.

“You ok?”

“What?”

“Are you ok?” I repeat slower. “You uh, seem a little jittery. You’re not off the O-neg. or anything are you?”

“I’m not jittery.” He crosses his arms and straightens himself against the wall. “And you’re not making any sense. Off the O-neg?”

“Blood withdrawal?”

I’m guessing by his stumpface that I should elaborate for he of slowness.

“Blood withdrawal, you know, getting a major case of jitters from going without feeding for a long time. Sorta like a junkie, only with a lot more snarling, and well...the blood of course, since you don’t need drugs. Which isn’t to say they need them, like in a life or death, have to have em kinda way…well, unless they're like really crashing, but that’s neither here nor there. We were talking about you and what would happen if you went all A.A. on us all. Which ok, isn’t really…”

“Xander.”

“Huh?”

“Go to sleep.”

“Right.”

We share a smile briefly. He looks as if he’s going to say something but pushes himself off the wall instead, heading for the door.

“Angel?” It comes out loud and awkward.

“Yeah?” He says, turning back to me, his expression hopeful.

“I, um…goodnight.”

Something falls across his eyes. “Goodnight Xander.”

***

My eyes blink and begin to open slowly, taking in the fuzzy darkness of the room and its strange alien shapes that inhabit it.

“Sweet Mother of Gah!” I bellow as I jump out of the bed, my brain kick starting when one of those shadows registers as someone in my room. I feel like my heart is going to blow until the boogeyman’s form takes on a more familiar shape. “Angel!?”

“Sorry.” He steps closer to the bed, backlit by the dim moonlight that filters through one of the large windows.

“Are you trying to scare me to death!?” I brace my arm against the wall and draw in a large gulp of air. “Cuz I think I get enough of that particular form of fun without you tipping in.”

A beat goes by.

“What the hell are you doing in here anyway?” I say when he doesn’t answer my question.

Silence.

“Angel?”

He gives me a look that I’m sure is supposed to mean something along with some kind of weird vampire sign language.

“Your…” More hand gesturing. “Uh…”

“Spit it out already would you.” I bark out, getting annoyed. Who does he think he is anyways—The Midnight Bedmaid?

“Um, your clothes are…”

“My clothes,” I say as I look down.

Oh God.

“Oh God…” I feel my whole body start to burn with embarrassment. “Don’t just stand there! Turn around or something!”

“Right. Sorry, sorry.” He quickly turns away.

“This isn’t happening.” I rummage frantically around the base of the bed. Where the hell are my clothes! “This isn’t happening, this is all just some twisted nightmare that…”

“Xander I didn’t...”

“Not a word Angel.”

“But I…”

“Not listening!” I shout back. Where the hell are my clothes!! “You didn’t see anything. This whole extravagant episode of embarrass the hell out of Xander never happened.”

“You shouldn’t…”

“Nope. We're not going to talk about this. There was no nakedness to be found or gazed upon this night. Got it?.”

“But…”

“Got it?!”

I hear what sounds almost like a laugh. “Got it.”

If the whole ick factor of scraping Angeldust off my naked body didn’t repel me so much I’d soooo stake his ass right now. “Why the hell can’t I find my clothes!”

“Uh, here.” He tosses me the pair of PJs I stole from the dresser from over his shoulder.

“Oh…thanks.”

I quickly don the clothes while deleting all prior offenses from my memory banks.

“I repeat: What the hell are you doing in my bedroom Angel?”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Good job on that one. Oh…you can, uh, turn around now.”

“Thanks.”

I stumble for the cord to the lamp but only end up cursing at its evasiveness. A cool hand brushes pass mine and pulls the cord, filling the room with soft orange radiance.

Angel, who also happens to be donned in PJs, which for the record, make him look all puppyish, what with his hair all disheveled . Smiles at me bashfully as he takes a couple steps back.

“Well?” I say, sitting back down on the bed.

“I wanted to…check on you. Make sure everything was ok.” He says as he leans back against the wall, opposite from where I’m sitting.

“That’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t buy it.”

“What?” He says with what can only be described as gobsmacked written across his face.

“I don’t buy it, you’re up to something.”

“No I’m not.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m not!”

“Ok,” I say as I cross my arms. There’s more here then he’s letting on. He never was a good liar, not if you knew what to look for. “So explain to me why you were sitting here, in the dark, making googly eyes at me.”

“I was not making googly eyes at you Xander.” He says in that annoying adult voice that parents lecture their kids with.

“Uh-huh, so you do admit that you’ve been here awhile then.”

“What? I didn’t say that.”

“Ah, but you didn’t deny it either. Same difference.”

“I came here to check up on you.”

“See that’s were you’re lying, or at least, fudging things up a bit. If you did come in here just to see how I was you could have just peeked open the door to see if I was sleeping soundly. Hell, you could have just used your bionic vamp hearing to pick up my heartbeat from outside the door. But you didn’t. I woke up with you on the opposite side of my bed, away from the door. So I’m guessing you were watching me for awhile."

“Am I right then?” I say to his silence.

“I did just want to check in on you,” he sighs. “There was something I wanted to show you, but after I saw that you were sleeping I didn’t want to wake you. But, I…I couldn’t leave.” He looks away from me.

“Oh…” Ok, what am I supposed to say to that? I’m glad you found it necessary to sit and stare at me in the dark? “so…uh, what did you want to show me?”

“It’s not important.” He moves away towards the door.

“Hey,” I say, getting up off the bed. “You already came down here and woke me up, you can’t just not show me now.”

He spares a second to think it over or something I guess, he’s kinda just staring back at me. But whatever is going through his head passes and he gives me a brief nod. “Ok.”

“So, where lies this mystery thing of yours.”

He grins a bit at that one. “Upstairs.”

“Cool.” I say on the trail end of yawn as I give myself a good stretch.

“You look like a kid when you do that.”

I roll my eyes at his chuckle. “Whatever, Deadboy.” I quip as I pass by him and make my way into the hall. “Well...” Is he going to show me this thingymabob of his or stare at me all night? “Angel?”

“Sorry, I just…”

“Yeah?” I say at his pause, hoping he’ll explain why he’s suddenly gone weird on me again.

“...I’ve missed that.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“It’s nothing, c’mon.” He begins walking away and down the hall.

“Hey!” No way, he’s not getting off that easy. I’ve got enough stuff to figure out without him reverting into cryptic asshole mode. “What is it?” I say as I grab on to his arm. He stops but doesn’t say anything. “Angel…”

“I’ve missed hearing you call me that.” He doesn’t turn around.

I let go of his arm as I try to figure out what he means. “Are you…are you talking about me calling you Deadboy?” He doesn’t say anything but I know that’s it. He’s missed me teasing him? “Really? Because you never liked that before, I don’t think. Not unless you call throwing a hissyfit your way of showing you like something.”

He turns to face me, his face serious. “I don’t throw hissyfits.”

I stifle a laugh. “Sure you don’t…” I say as I take a couple steps pass him down the hall, hoping he won’t catch my amusement as I reward myself with a tiny mental jig—Angel, Mr. stick in the mud himself, just said ‘hissyfit’.

“Harris!” he’s suddenly in front of me. “I know what your doing.”

I give him my best innocent face.

“That doesn’t work on me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A few seconds drag on as we stare each other down; a battle of wills he has to know he can’t win. I feel silly, and childish, but it’s nice, more than that; it’s great really. My lip quivers in amusement; who’da thunk Angel actually had a funny bone. Is this…is this part of what Buffy always saw in him? I push the thought away for another time as he suddenly growls, causing me to bust out in laughter as he stalks away and further down the hall.

Xan-man 1. Deadboy nothing.

He waits for me to catch back up as my laughter subsides. “So… Deadboy.” I say with obvious inflection. Weirder things I guess. “What’s this I hear about you having something to show me?”

Real Life Sucks...

Wed, 19 Sep 2007 06:46:48 GMT

Blah, so okay, school is totally kicking my ass lately. Along with all the other random hi-jinks that seem to be enjoying themselves by popping up at the most annoying of moments.

Anyways, I just wanted to let all my readers know that I'm going to try to get a new chapter of Things That I've Lost up sometime over the weekend. My original plan was to keep most of the chapters relatively short so that I could post frequently and get it out there to you guys. Mostly because as a reader I hate reading WIP, and as a writer I kinda need the pressure of a deadline in order to get anything done in a relative time :P

My muse is being all cranky over the new chapter so far, but I think after I offer her a little praise and possibly some sort of sacrifice she'll help me out a bit.

I guess we'll see.

Later peeps.

Things That I've Lost, Ch. 2 ( X/A, Drama AU )

Sun, 26 Aug 2007 08:10:10 GMT

Title: Things That I've Lost, Ch.2: Discoveries
Author: Loki Fox
Fandom: Btvs/Angel
Genre: Drama
Pairing: Xander/Angel
Rating: FRT-13
Warning(s): Language
Feedback: Seriously? Aren't all writers feedback whores?

Summary: Xander falls further and further down the rabbit hole.

A/N: I'm so happy with all the feedback I've gotten from readers so far. It really motivates me knowing that others out there are liking this story. On a side note, im glad to be done with the hospital setting. All mistakes are mine.

~Discoveries~

“…trauma…extensive damage….”

Ugh. What-where am I?

“Its’ possible…he’s very lucky...”

It’s so dark, why can’t I…

“That’s not good enough!”

Huh? Who…Angel?

“…sir, your partner may never...”

“…best doctor, what good are you if...”

Doctor? Oh. Oh! The hospital. Ok, now if I could just…

“Xander?”

Crap. Well, there goes that covert plan. I peek my right eye open slowly, hoping that somehow, if I wish for it hard enough he won’t be here…damn. Is there some clause somewhere that states my life can never go right?

“Xander?”

“Didn’t we already go over you not saying my name like that.” I say as I open both my eyes to throw a glare in for good measure. “Ack! Bright. Bright lights.” I clamp my eyes back shut. Great—blind and stuck with Blood for Brains.

“Better?”

I risk further blindage to see what he’s going on about. Oh. How’d he get to the light switch so—right, vampire. “Yeah, thanks.”

He smiles back from beside my bed. “ You’re welcome.”

A cough to my right reminds me of the fact that we’re not the only ones in the room. Wait a second, did this guy just see Angel do his little vampire disappearing act. Crap…

“Hey, you must be the doctor,” I say nervously. “ I bet you noticed how quickly my friend here just zipped across the room, impressive wasn’t it? He’s very light on his feet.”

“Xander…”

“He’s like a cat isn’t he? Or, uh, a ballerina.”

“Xander…”

“Ok, maybe not a ballerina. A riverdancer! That’s it, he’s…”

“He knows Xander.”

Huh? “Huh?”

“He knows I’m a vampire.”

“Thank God.” I exhale on a breath. “Wasn’t sure if I could recover after the notion of you in a tutu.”

Angel’s smile is mischievous. “You’d be surprised.”

“What?!” No way. I don’t believe it. “You’re pulling my leg.”

He shrugs back in answer, but its playful… and comfortable. Like it’s something we’ve done a million times before. A beat goes by before I realize that I’m grinning back at him. Oh my God. Are we…getting along? Okay, this is so very wrong, Angel and I don’t get along. We fight, bicker, and share a mutual and heated disliking. That’s normal. That’s who we are. We certainly don’t…get along. Something’s not right.

“You can stop doing that now, you don’t have to pretend we’re friends.” I say coldly. “I get it, you’re not Angelus.” That’s gotta be it right? He’s overcompensating to show that he’s not his darker half. Yeah…that’s gotta be right. I don’t know why, but that thought hurts for some reason.

Angel’s friendly demeanor disappears like quicksilver, burnt to cinders by the fire in his eyes. For a second, its nice, to see a glimmer of the Angel I know—until he grabs my hand.“ That’s not true dammit!” he shouts. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’m a little scared. He looks furious. “I know I fucked things up… did things that I can’t take back.” His eyes hold me. “But I would never pretend about my feelings Xander…not for you…you know that.” My heart does a weird little clench that I can’t identify. “Or at least, you used to.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” I scream, breaking the eerie atmosphere of Angel’s words. A shattered look crosses his face as I pull my hand free. It’s enough to make my blood boil; the way he just seems to…deflate. “Stop it.” I push myself further into his space next to my bed. “Stop looking like everything I say means so much to you.”

He looks at me with such open hurt that I’m taken aback. “What you say means everything to me.”

“Don’t say that!”

“I’m sorry…” he whispers as he drops his gaze. “I don’t know how else to feel around you.”

“How about the same way you always do?” I reply coolly. “You know, the you that’s annoyed at the mere sight of me. The you that thinks I’m nothing more than a loser.” I harden my heart as he flinches. I feel like I should stop, but I can’t, even though the words hurt me too for some reason. “The you who doesn’t care about anything I have to say.” Why does my heart feel heavy? “The you who wouldn’t care one way or another if I just dropped dead in an...”

“Don’t.” I know better than anyone what he is, but I’ll never be used to it. His speed. The way time just seems to hiccup and in that instance he’s gone—displaced. His arms hold me tight as he buries his head in my shoulder. “Don’t you dare,” he mumbles brokenly.

“Angel?” my voice sounds tiny, a shadow given breath. My fists clench the back of his shirt and I feel something akin to familiarity slam into me. I pull him closer as a suppressed tremor rocks through him. I hold on only to ground myself from this sudden vertigo.

It’s a lie.

“I’ve been so lost Xander.” He squeezes me tighter as his voice dies off, “ever since…”

“Angel.” I whisper at his pause. I maneuver him so that were facing each other, its like my body is on autopilot as I run my hand under his chin, tilting his head up to look me in the eyes. “What’s going on?”

Angel stares back as if he’s just seeing me for the first time. The moment seems to go on forever. I feel nervous, like he’s unraveling me somehow. He pulls back with a gasp.

“Xander,” the voice to my right startles me, breaking the strange hush that seemed to fall over us. What am I doing? I push away from Angel. “I’m Dr. Reyes.” The forgotten doctor greats me as he draws closer. “I need you to think very clearly, Xander.” I feel like I’m being dissected as his sharp gaze focuses on me. “ What’s the last thing you remember?”

A cascade of images slams into my mind. I try to sort through them but its like trying to piece together a puzzle without knowing the picture. I feel like I’m sinking.

Willow?

“I…I’m not sure.” I say hollowly. Why can’t I…

“I need you to try and tell me.” Dr. Reyes says softly, “anything Xander, it doesn’t matter what it is.”

“There was a fight…” I look back to Angel. “With the mayor, Oz smashed his box” Everything comes crashing down. “Willow!” I shout as I grab Angel’s shoulders. Oh, no…

He only looks at me with an expression I can’t identify.

“Is she ok?!” Why can’t I remember what happened! She has to be all right.

He stares back at me unmoving, his eyes glassy, as if he’s checked out. No. She can’t be. I shake him furiously.

“Tell me dammit!”

“Angel,” Reyes lays his hand on Angel’s shoulder. He doesn’t get a response. “Xander,” the doctor says with…pity? He turns to me. “How old are you?”

“What?” I respond confused. “That’s not important. Listen, I need to know about my friend, she could be in here too, she’s…”

“How old Xander?” he interrupts.

“Would you just listen to me, I have to know…”

“How old?” He repeats with more force.

“Eighteen!” I shout frustrated. “I’m eighteen ok! Now would you just listen to me for a damn second.” The room goes eerily silent. “What?”

“Xander…” Angel whispers. “You’re twenty-four”

* * *

My eyes dance across the bricks of buildings and over the curve of passing cars as we fly down the street in Angel’s rusty black convertible. I ghost a hand over my face. Nothing. It’s still there when my palm moves away—this reality.

Six years.

Three in a coma and three in a life I can’t remember. Gone. I don’t know which is worse. I look to Angel, not the Angel I know, but the one that’s here with me now. The one who hasn’t said a word since we left—he won’t even look at me. Not really. It’s so different from how he was before, back there, I should be happy… it’s what I wanted right? For him to just leave me alone.

Nothing makes sense anymore.

I can buy porn. The thought doesn’t fill me with the excitement it should. It sort of just slips into my mind and hangs there as we pass a place with glaring red lights; XXX they read. I slide my eyes away from the glaring harshness.

I’m not a kid anymore.

Willow, Buffy, Oz…Cordy. None of them are. I look back to Angel. Will they all be as different as him? Is that what I have to look forward to now, strangers in familiar faces.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror but force my eyes to focus on Angel instead. I don’t…I don’t want to know how different I am—how different any of them are. I’m not ready. Not yet.

At least…at least he still looks the same.

* * *

The convertible comes to stop outside a very dark and looming building, it looks like it might have been a nice place once. Before. Now it just looks decrepit and lonely, like it hasn’t been taken care of in a long time. I look back over to my stoic chauffeur—yeah, its gotta be Angel’s. Seconds drag into minutes that seem to stretch on for hours as we sit here in silence, just the two of us, illuminated by only the fuzzy glow of a flickering streetlight. Which is more of a problem for me than him I suppose, but things have never been equal between us anyways.

He starts to say something but stops when I turn to him. He looks horrible. Like all the strength has been drained out of him somehow. He smiles at me, but it’s missing the glow that it had before, and even though the newness, and ok, freakiness, of Angelsmiles are a startling concept for me. I find myself wanting to see him smile like he was back in the hospital. He looks away and begins to turn the car handle.

“Thanks.” It comes out as a whisper. One I expect not even him to pick up. Angel wouldn’t be Angel though if it didn’t include making my life more complicated. He shuts the door and turns back to me with a confused expression.

“Huh?”

“Thanks.” I repeat louder, still slightly unsure of what I’m doing. “You know, for getting me out of there.”

“They’ll still want to do tests.” It sounds like an apology somehow.

“I know, I just…”

“…had to get out of there.” He finishes with a knowing smirk that makes causes me to chuckle.

“Yeah, hospitals…:

“Give you the creeps.”

“OK…” my tongue drags the letters out. “You have to stop doing that.”

“Sorry,” he replies sheepishly.

A beat goes by. And another. Our nice little conversation sinking further and further away. Back into that uncomfortable little pit we seemed to be making such nifty progress with.

“I can’t believe we’re friends.” I choke out when I can’t think of anything to say.

“What?”

“Friends.” I say slowly, realizing I’ve hurt his feelings, which, by the way, is not getting any less weird—the fact that I can do that to him. “I mean, we are friends, “ I continue, “or something?” I smile goofily at his unreadable stare, unsure if I’m saying this right. “Since you’ve got the whole mind-meld thing going on, finishing my sentences and stuff. That’s a friend thing right?”

“Right.” He says but that look is still there. “ Friends.”

He gets out of the car.

“Hey!” I scream out my window as he comes around the side.

“Well.” He says with a crooked grin that causes me to draw back. “You going to just sit there all night or what?”

I give him an odd look but get out of the car. He smiles as I climb the few short stairs to the landing he’s standing on. It’s a poor imitation of one of his ‘real’ smiles but it’s a lot better than that broken down thing from earlier.

It’s a start.

A shiver runs down my spine as he pushes one of the heavy doors at the landing open. A blast of must hits my nose as we step into the dark lit room and even though it doesn’t smell particularly nice, like something that needs a good airing out. It… feels right somehow. I turn to Angel to ask him about it but my words fall short at the peaceful expression on his face.

“Welcome home Xander.”

Things That I've Lost, Ch. 1 ( X/A, Drama AU )

Thu, 23 Aug 2007 03:54:02 GMT

Title: Things That I’ve Lost, Ch.1: Awakening
Author: loki_fox
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Drama
Pairing: Xander/Angel
Rating: FRT-13
Warning(s): Language
Feedback: Seriously? Aren't all writers feedback whores?

Summary: Xander wakes up in a world different from the one he left.

A/N: After getting some really nice feedback from the prologue to this story ive decided to flesh out a bit more of this verse. I've never written a story from the character's POV before so bear with me on this one. *g* All mistakes are me.

~ Awakening ~

It’s like seeing the world all over again.

White distortions fill my vision, blotting out everything with the harshness of dawn. It’s not entirely alien, this place, I’ve been here before. Sometime…I think. Why can’t I remember?

It’s enough to make my head ring.

My eyes slowly adjust, flushing away the milky fog of my vision and allowing me to take in the sight of a…. hospital room? Its disconcerting, but not because of the location. Welcome to the Hellmouth, where waking up in a hospital room is a relief rather than a worry.

No, it’s disconcerting because of the peculiar inclusion of Buffy’s boyfriend staring intensely back at me.

“A-Angel?”

My voice sounds chalky, unfamiliar, even to my own ears. Hearing his name does seems to free him of his stupor though. I don’t get too much time to ponder why exactly Angel is playing what appears to be nursemaid, or perhaps, an inventive solo version of I spy, before one of Angel’s broad hands is reaching for me.

“Xander?” His voice sounds hollow. “ Is—is this real?”

I shake off the hand that settles across my own as if burned. “What are you doing?!”

A look somewhere between confusion and hurt slides across his face. I wonder, not for the first time, if his emotional range contains anything besides maudlin and tragic.

What Buffy sees in this guy I’ll never know.

“Xander?” He says, his brow crinkling that way it does when he’s confused and unsure of something.

“Would you quite saying my name like that.” I respond harshly. Not because of the weird way he’s saying my name, though that does bother me—frankly, everything Angel does bothers me. No, what’s really got me all rankled is the clawing fact that I know that confused wrinkle of Angel’s forehead as well as I know my middle name is Lavelle.

Two little tidbits of information I don’t plan on sharing with anyone anytime soon.

“I-I’m sorry… I should go, I-I should have known you wouldn’t want to see me.”

“There is that whole me hating your guts thing.”

I watch as a cold lifelessness settles over Angel’s eyes and immediately wish I could take back the words. This is different than the vampire’s usual brooding ‘oh woe is me for my glass is half-empty’ outlook face, the general persona I’ve come to associate with all things Angel. With his shoulders slumped and eyes cast down like that, Angel looks far more breakable than I’ve ever seen him. He looks…well, kinda human. Crushed. It makes me feel like an ass. Sadface Angel shouldn’t bother me. I should be feeling triumphant, but I can’t, not when he’s looking at me like that. I don’t get any more time to think about it before Angel is across the room with the hospital door half open.

“Wait!” I try to scream, but it comes out as more of a wheeze, which spirals out of control and into a full on coughing fit.

I startle a bit at the soft rubbing on my back, it’s a wonder I don’t jump half way out of my bed considering whom it’s coming from.

How does he move so fast anyways? Oh, right, vampire.

It’s weird and pushing into twilight zone territory, but it feels nice and helps my coughs settle so I let it go. Crisis averted, I lean back into my hospital bed, assuming that’s what this place is, conveniently cutting off Angel and his weird and notsobad touches. I don’t let my mind wonder on the way Angel’s hands seem to linger.

“Thanks.” I offer, not knowing what to say exactly. Just gotta be chill. Like Ice! Xandman the Iceman. I can do that; I can play civilguy. Even if the other party is Angel and his creepy linger hands.

Angel smile is small, but its there. I try not to sigh in relief when Angel settles back into his chair, the one that’s located in the much nicer location of away from my personal bubble. This is so not the person I want to be spending time with.

The room is uncomfortable in its silence, interrupted only by the low hum of the hospital machinery and the tick-tick-ticking of an unknown clock that’s outside of my vision. I can feel Angel’s gaze burning into my side as I stare at the door and away from him. I sigh as my Buffy/Willow mind-link seems to be going nowhere. Hell I’d even settle on Oz walking through that door right about now if it meant the end of this particular form of torture. The glacial chill of Oz’s eyes slam into my mind as I remember my most recent folly. Scratch that. There are far worse things than spending time with the brooding one. With reluctance I turn back to Angel to ask him about Willow, Buffy, and what bump in the night got me this time when I’m caught short by the sight of the vampire.

Angel is crying.

I’m shell-shocked at the sight; a slow track of tears that slide over the curve of a too pale cheek and off the vampire’s jaw. He’s like some sort of chiseled Greek statue as the moisture wells and falls down his face. It makes me wonder if it’s his stillness that somehow makes the scene seem more intense, or the shear fact that this is happening in front of me. It isn’t the compressed quite hitching of Angel’s chest, or even the way his frame seems so much smaller and less intimidating that’s really throwing me off though.

It’s his eyes.

Burnt ambers that are staring back at me with a look I’ve never seen directed at me before. By anyone. I reach out to him as if by instinct. My voice clumsy in the stillness of the moment, “Deadboy?”

“I thought I’d lost you” Angel sighs, his eyes closing as my hand settles across his thigh.

“lost me?” I chirp with confusion.

His eyes open slowly. “I’m so sorry Xander,” he says, as he gently grips my hand with his own, bringing it to his mouth and pressing his lips against my knuckles. “For how fucked up things were, for everything that’s happened. There’s so much for me to atone for. But you’re here now, that’s the only thing that matters.”

“Ok…” I say slowly. With a tug my hand is released from Angel’s grip. I stare at it with alarmed eyes before turning my gaze back to the vampire and his naughty lips.

No freaking, Xander, there is a perfectly rational answer as to what the hell is going on. That wasn’t a kiss. Didn’t happen, no siree, Angel wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t do that. Even if it did feel kinda nice. Ack! Stupid brain. Bad! Bad brain with bad stupid thoughts. Okay. Just breathe Xander, this is the part where you come up with something to say to the sometimes-crazy vampire who was just molesting your fingers. Molesting?

“Angelus!”

“ What?” he says, pretending to act confused.

I knew keeping Angel around was going to come back to bite us in the ass one day. God, and I almost fell for Angelus’ stupid ‘poor me and my tortured soul routine’ too. Look Pa! You were right, I am a dumbass.

“What the hell is wrong with you and Buffy?!” I scream in frustration as I look frantically for one of those handy ‘call for nurse’ buttons, or possibly, if fate is somehow on my side, a stake. Hey, weirder things have turned up in my moment of need.

I laugh dryly at the look across Angelus’ face, had to give it to the guy, once he got a plan stuck in his head he really went for it. If I was any more of a girl I’d probably be giving that choked up look a mighty fine eye roll as I checked out of this dump. Seeing as I’ve already expressed enough estrogen to last for the rest of my not so manly life, I think I’ll just settle for checking out in one piece.

You know, I’m starting to get really tired of sounding like a broken record. How many times does someone have to spell out the wrongness of a vampire boyfriend before the whole world goes to hell?! Again.

God Buffy! I love you, but sometimes I think you need your brain examined.

“You two are a real piece of work you know that? It’s like you think the whole world revolves around you two and nobody else.” I say, hoping my anger will hide my growing panic. “ Well I hate to break it to you, but it doesn’t. This isn’t some horrible soap opera, or some kind of twisted little snow globe world where only you two exist. Surprise! Other people’s lives matter too.”

I ignore the hurt look on his face. No more falling for any of Angelus’ stupid mental mindfucks. I ‘m so gone. I push myself over the rail of the bed, intent on doing just that, one way or another. When my feet hit the floor, however, it suddenly comes rushing back that I’m probably in the hospital for a reason.

“Xander!” He cries as my body crashes to the ground, toppled by my unresponsive legs. I panic. What the hell?! “What do you think your doing!” Angelus screams as he scoops me into his arms “ Don’t scare me like that, you shouldn’t be exerting yourself.”

“Let go of me!” I shout as I try to dislodge the vampire from around me. This is bad. I didn’t really expect to be able to simply run away from Angelus quite so easily, but I also didn’t expect my body to feel so sluggish and weak.

“Stop it!” He screams, “ Your going to hurt yourself flailing around like that, your body isn’t up for that right now.” He grunts as one of my fists connect with the side of his head. “Would you just listen to me!”

“Listen to you!” I scream back. “Are you crazy!” I can’t help the smirk as I manage to get a somewhat solid elbow against his gut. “Oh right. You are! Hey, maybe that’s why I don’t feel inclined to listen to you.” Damn vampire strength. “I may be a few crayola’s short of a full box, but even I’m not dumb enough to take advice from the resident homicidal nut job.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, please.” I say coldly to the vampire behind me. I can feel a steady burn spreading from my armpits and coursing down my limbs like spider webs. “Spare me the theatrics Angelus,” I sigh as I give up on struggling, my strength leaving me. “ I’m not falling for it.”

“Xander,” he whispers. “I’m not Angelus.”

“Whatever,” I reply. “Just get it over with already would you.”

Angelus’ arms grip my waist tighter. “Get what over with?”

“I don’t know, whatever it is you plan on doing. Biting, killing, mutilating, it’s all in a good days work for you right?”

“Xander,” his breath is soft on the back of my neck. “I’m not Angelus.”

I try to shove him away but it’s useless. My arms feel so heavy.

“It’s me Xander,” his voice sounds…frightened?” Baby,” he turns me to face him, his gaze a lance that holds me immobile. “It’s me.”

Baby?

I feel his grip against my arms. “Its me,” he repeats. I try to turn away from him but he won’t let me. His hands are like vises. “ It’s me Xander.”

It’s a lie.

“Baby, I’m not…”

“No!” I scream. The shock of my outburst loosens his grip enough for me to pull away. I make it as far as the other side of the room before it’s too much. I rest against the cold sterile wall, sparing a second to catch my breath as I level my gaze at him. “Stop it.”

He begins to crawl towards me. “Baby, why…”

“Stop!” I shout with what little strength I have left. I bet he’s enjoying this, playing the soul. The fake panic across his face makes me want to laugh. Hello! I’m the one stuck in the tiny room with a psycho. Whatever his game, he’s stopped coming closer.

For now.

“I’m not your…baby, I’m not your anything. Just stop playing games with me.” I’m so tired. “Just…stop.”

“I-I’m sorry, I won’t call you that.” He whispers. I guess it was too much to figure he’d let up on his game; he still looks hurt. “I-I don’t know what to do!” His broken shout startles me. “I’m not him Xander.” He reaches toward me, but lets his hand fall back to his side. “ Just—tell me what to do, I…I don’t know how to fix this.”

Fix this? I don’t. Is this part of his game—could he…is he…could he be telling the truth? My head hurts.

“Xander?”

My eyes feel heavy as everything sort of just slides away from me.

“Xander?!”

Why do his hands always feel so warm?

“Xander!!”

Darkness.

New Xangel Icons

Wed, 22 Aug 2007 11:20:01 GMT

Hey there guys, wanted to help contribute a bit so I threw together a new batch of icons for anyone who wants some. Hope you guys like em. (Credit isn't needed but is always a nice touch.)

All the Things That I've Lost, Prologue. ( X/A, Drama AU )

Tue, 21 Aug 2007 23:30:46 GMT

Title: All the Things That I’ve Lost (working title)
Author: loki_fox
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Drama
Pairing: Xander/Angel
Rating: FRT-13
Warning(s): Language
Feedback: Con-crit is always welcome; flames are not.

Summary: A meeting between Angel and Willow over Xander's hospital bed.

A/N: Ok so this is my first time posting something that I've written, and actually a really old piece that I found scribbled down in a journal I had back in high school from around 5 or 6 years ago. (Yes, that does make me feel old. And yes, I have been lurking for that long.) Anyways, I found this little scribbled story idea and after tweaking the language and the grammar (thankfully I've grown in 5 years) I decided it was an interesting little blurb. There may be a followup to this. Unbetaed to insure the original integrity, all mistakes belong to me.

~ Prologue ~

"How is he?”

Such a simple question, Angel wishes he could give the girl the answer she wants. The answer they both want. To be able to tell her that her best friend is doing fine, the same goofy boy she’s known since they were both in diapers. But Xander isn’t fine.

May never be fine.

Not after this. Not after what he’s done to his beautiful boy.

“Willow….I’m”

Her voice is hard as she cuts him off, “Don’t.”

He nods to her from across the hospital room.

The soft sound of her footsteps breaks the harmony of the chirping machines as she makes her way to the opposite side of the bed. Angel watches as she cradles the boy’s hand gently between her tiny ones. The scene looks so innocent that Angel has to remind himself that the slip of a girl sitting across from him is one of the most powerful witches on Earth.

Green eyes that have been so lost and cold since she first set foot in the room lose their edge as she ghosts a finger across Xander’s unruly bangs. For a brief second, before she returns to wherever it is she’s stumbled off to, Angel thinks about the old Willow. Before the magik and the demons. Imagines the tiny redhead and her love for science, can see her and a much younger Xander playing doctor or house, or any other number of games that little kids dream up before their innocence vanishes.

Thinks of how different their lives would have been if they never had learned how real nightmares could be. He can picture a happy home always full of laugher, filled with little ones with fathomless chocolate eyes and a penchant for letting their curiosities get the better of them. Can see the two of them, out on a porch somewhere, growing old, satisfied with the mark they left on the world.

Comes back to reality.

The scene before him is so tender that Angel has to turn his gaze away, can’t bear to watch her fall apart. Has enough experience with that particular exercise for the rest of his unlife.

Her choked sobs echo loudly within the small room even if she’s trying her hardest to keep them in.

Angel hates himself even more.

He grips Xander’s hand tighter, reaching for a lifeline that he knows wont be returned. Hates the stillness he finds there. Wants to rant, and scream, and cry. God he’d give up anything if Xander would just move his fucking hand. Angel can’t stand to see the agile man so lifeless. Thinks of all the times he’d scream at Xander to just sit still, doesn’t appreciate the irony of how horrible it is that Xander is now doing precisely that.

“He used to be my everything you know?” Willow’s quit whisper breaks him out of his thoughts. “My friend, my brother,” a chocked laugh, “my knight.”

She locks eyes with Angel. There’s such intensity there, more than from anyone he’s ever seen at her age.

“He’s my constant Angel. He’s the one person that’s always been there for me.” She runs her tiny hand around the curve of Xander’s cheek. “It never should have ended like this.”

Angel feels himself breaking all over again, he wants to plead with her to stop, to just fade away from this place. He can’t though. He deserves the pain this confession is costing him.

His voice comes out dry. “It’s all my fault.”

She tucks a loose strand of Xander’s hair away from his battered face. The contempt in her eyes chills his blood as she regards him from across the hospital bed. “I know.”

She rises from her post beside the shell of her friend, the radiance of her fiery locks a betrayal to the dullness etched across her soul. With a heavy heart she makes her way to the doorway and begins to turn the handle. Stops.

“He always loved you”

She doesn’t turn to catch the broken vampire’s nod, doesn’t need to. Her voice stumbles, her inflection losing some of its certainty as her next words reach his ears.

“Angel, if he ever does wake up from all this,” Her eyes are unguarded as she catches his gaze over her shoulder, “Let him go. He deserves more than what you can give him.”

She’s gone before he can say anything.

Angel carefully crawls into the bed, mindful of his fragile boy. Places his head over Xander’s heartbeat, and lets himself fall apart all over again.

Im not dead.

Tue, 21 Aug 2007 23:03:24 GMT

Okay, so i've been completely mia for the last couple months due to summer issues taking over my life. Man, RL just has a way of catching up to you no matter what you do. Anyways, i've got some goodies to share with you guys now that I'm back. Hopefully, unless more RL stuff comes up again I can start posting some of the things I've been meaning too.

Introduction

Sat, 16 Jun 2007 22:31:51 GMT

Hey there everyone,

Welcome to my new blog. I've spent a lot of years lurking around in the buffyfandom and decided it was high time that I got off my lazy butt and starting contributing and interacting with the community. That, and well, I kinda ran out of A/X stories. Hopefully you'll be seeing and hearing from me a lot in the months to come.