What Was Lost

by SpikesKat

Chapter 7

A door clicked open further down the hall and Buffy poked her head out. 

“Xander?” then, “Angel, what the hell?” in a much harsher, much louder voice as she took in the scene before her: Xander pressed up against the wall, Angel’s fangs a hairsbreadth away from his vulnerable neck. 

Xander gratefully latched on to the distraction, mentally breathing a sigh of relief as he slipped free of Angel’s grasp and hurriedly put as much distance between himself and the glowering vampire as he could. 

“Hey, Buffster,” he stammered out, heart still in overdrive. “Merry Christmas! Early by a few days, I know. I wanted to surprise you guys. Uh… Surprise!” 

Thankfully, she seemed to put the scene of him and Angel from her mind and smiled slightly in welcome. 

“It is. A good one. A good surprise, that is.” She stepped out of her room and walked over to Xander. Flicked her eyes briefly at Angel, who had backed up and stood leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed over his chest. “Are you… I mean… are you… uh… back? To stay?” 

Xander shook his head regretfully, though he smiled to lessen his denial. “Nah… just here through the holidays. But, hey, two whole weeks of the Xan Man.” 

The smile reached her eyes this time as she looped her arm through his and practically yanked his arm out of his socket as she lead him back to her room, talking a mile a minute about what had been going on since the last time he’d called. 

Xander protested only when he was dragged past his bedroom door. 

“Hold up, Buff. Let me lose this first.” He held up his beat up duffle bag. 

Buffy nodded, adding, “Hurry up. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” 

Xander looked back over his shoulder to see Angel staring hard in their direction, though he made no move to follow; he could practically see the wheels turning in the vampire’s head. 

He just wondered how in the hell Angel was able to smell Spike on him. True, the two had hung out at the club together, and yeah, there’d been that scuffle not long before Xander had left. But still… 

Stupid vampires and their keen sense of smell, he thought, pausing only long enough to toss his bag in his room before being yanked down the hallway towards Buffy’s. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Angel watched the door to Buffy’s room close and let out a harsh breath. It didn’t help calm him down one whit, so he did it again, and then again… deep breath in, slow exhale out. His anger didn’t subside, however, nor did his need to barge into Buffy’s room and shake Xander until the boy answered his questions. 

He couldn’t do that, but there was nothing to stop him from going through Xander’s things – privacy be damned. 

Senses tuned to the muted voices coming from down the hall, Angel let himself into Xander’s room. A fine layer of dust covered the surfaces of the various furnishings inside the room, and a musty odor hung heavy in the air; no one had ventured inside since Xander had left. 

Angel moved forward and knelt down in front of Xander’s carryall. Opened it up and rifled through the contents without one iota of guilt. His hands pushed aside a few small, wrapped packages – Christmas gifts for his friends, no doubt – the odd assortment of clothes, until they encountered soft, warm leather. He yanked out the worn coat, and the faint trace of Spike that had driven his demon crazy before nearly overwhelmed him now that he could easily smell his childe’s scent on the thing. 

He didn’t bother to confront Xander with his findings, as it would tip off Buffy as well, instead he shoved the coat back into the bag, zipped it closed, and quietly left the room. 

Back in his own bedroom, Angel struggled to put on shirt and pants while attempting to hold his cell phone to his ear and talk. 

“Harmony, I want the company jet gassed up and waiting for my arrival. I should be there within thirty minutes— No, make that an hour.” Afternoon traffic in Los Angeles was horrendous. 

He eyed his bedroom window, taking note of the bright light that rimmed its edge and was grateful he’d taken to driving one of the company cars rather than rely on his convertible; its windows were specially treated to keep out the sun’s harmful rays and made daytime commuting easier. Ever since Spike had disappeared, he’d been lucky if he left the office before noon. 

“But, boss—” 

“I don’t want to hear any excuses, Harmony. Just get it done. Also, clear my calendar for at least a week. If anyone asks, I’m working on a delicate negotiation and will be out of pocket. I’ll check in with everyone once things show signs of improvement.” 

Which was true, in a sense. He knew that his coming reunion with Spike wasn’t going to be easy. 

Angel heard Harmony sigh into the phone’s receiver – more like growl – then finally say, “The pilot will need to log a flight plan. What should I tell him?” 

“I’ll let him know when I get there.” 

He hung up, rather than wait for her reply. No matter how ditzy the blonde vampire came across, she always managed to get things done. It was one of the reasons he’d kept her around after becoming CEO of Wolfram & Hart, instead of staking her.

~*~*~*~*~ 

Four hours later, Angel was sitting in his seat and staring at the tiny bottles that outlined the table in front of him. They were somewhere over Texas, according to the pilot, which meant that he was halfway there. 

It was just a shame that vampire constitution kept him from being halfway to drunk. 

He picked another bottle from the pile on the chair beside him and squinted at the contents. Shrugged and opened it after noting what it was: Jack Daniels. He swigged it down and scrunched up his face at the taste, wondering how Spike could stand to drink the stuff. 

But then, they were two very different vampires. 

Alone in the main cabin, all was quiet save for the steady drone of the jet’s engines and the rhythmic cadence of his watch as it ticked off the seconds. 

Each one bringing him closer and closer to his confrontation with Spike. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Spike refused to admit that he missed having Harris around. So what, the place seemed a bit duller, his job more mundane, because of the boy’s absence. 

It wasn’t like the two were really friends, and they damned sure wouldn’t be once Xander discovered the truth— 

He growled and mentally shook himself, once more concentrating on the goings on inside the club. A few more hours and he could retire to his room with a nice bottle and content himself with watching cable television. 

If his eyes occasionally strayed to the bar and what had become Xander’s customary spot, well, he put it down to keeping an eye on things. 

He’ll be back, Spike reminded himself, and by all appearances, with neither Buffy nor his sire the wiser. Harris had promised as much, and for once, he was inclined to take the boy at his word. 

Which was why he felt oddly betrayed when he did a scan of the club and his eyes collided with Angel’s.

tbc... 

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