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Xander Harris
- Undercover
by
BmblBee
Part Six
Xander sat in his car in the mall parking lot. This was a turn of events he had never contemplated, although he certainly should have. After all, did he think William lived in the salon? Of course he had days off.
Xander flipped his new notebook to the entry he had made and tapped his pen against the paper thoughtfully.
"Hmm. O.k. if I want to see him I need to know where he lives. Just drive by and see what the place looks like, maybe catch a glimpse of him coming or going. Damn, I don't even know his last name and if I did, then what? FUCK! This is going to take some work. Where to start. Where to start."
Xander continued to tap the pen, helping him think, till he finally decided this was going to take an accomplice. Someone with a bigger brain than his. This was going to take Willow. The only question now was how to get her to help without revealing the facts of the case.
Thirty minutes later, Xander pulled into one of the vast parking areas of the college campus. He hated being here, surrounded by all this knowledge and intelligence, it felt like it could just infect and take over his brain. Luckily he had apparently developed an immunity to education very early in life.
Whistling, and trying to look like he belonged there, Xander breezed across the grassy knolls and around the vast buildings of higher learning. He had a pretty good idea that Willow would be back at her dorm by now, no doubt studying her pretty red head off.
He missed his friend. They had been inseparable as children and he resented this new world that she was so happy in and
he clearly had no part of.
He had only been on campus a few times but knew her dorm by heart. It was the only one with no beer cans in the front yard the meticulously tended flowers lining the walk way. It was the geek dorm. Willow was right at home.
Xander cruised up the sidewalk, pausing briefly to snag one of the well tended flowers, he lumbered in the unlocked front door and up the stairs, still trying his best to blend in.
Knocking on #212, Xander held out the flower as an offering to the occupant of the room. Within seconds the door flew open and he threw up his hands for a hug, catching himself at the last minute. The pretty blond who had answered the door was definitely NOT his Willow. Stepping back he double checked the number on the door frame. Yep, #212.
The blond stammered and giggled. "Well I guess the hug and the flower weren't for me, so you must be looking for Willow. Come in."
Sticking his head in, Willow jumped from her bed where she had been sitting, crosslegged, with a mountain of books around her. "XANDER!" Rushing forward she threw herself in his arms and nearly knocked him off balance. "Come in! Come in! Wow, it's been so long. What are you doing here? Why haven't you called me? I've really missed you, Buster."
Stepping back she punched his chest, but her grin never faltered.
Neither did his as he realized just how empty his life was without his best friends. They had all chosen a destination in life and started down the trail to meet it. Xander had not. Still floundering, he just couldn't find his niche and embarrassment
had separated friends that twelve years of school and life's tragedies and pitfalls had not.
Xander resolved for the thousandth time to find his place in life. Buckle down and get serious about his future. Later.
Right now he had other fish to fry. Not that frying fish was totally out of the question as a potential career.
"Um, say, Wil, can we maybe go for a walk or something? I need your help on kind of a personal matter. No offense."
Xander handed the blond the flower as an apology backed up with a sheepish grin.
The blond laughed easily and took the gift. "No offense taken. You two have fun and I'll see you later."
Xander frowned as he watched Willow run her hand lightly down the blond's arm and share an 'I've got a secret' smile with her. "We won't be long."
Walking across the well tended campus, Xander noted that the warm breeze that blew across his face even felt different here. More cultured, slower, more dignified. "So who's the blond?"
Willow was ready. She knew the question was coming, she just wasn't sure of the answer. "Oh. That's Tara. She's a friend. Well, roommate, actually. Kind of a friendly roommate. So, since she's a roommate we kinda live together."
Ordinarily that whole conversation would have thrown up all sorts of flags and questions, but, hey it was Willow, so it didn't.
Coming to a park bench under a large shade tree, Xander took Willow's hand and pulled her to sit down with him. "Let me ask you something, Wil, you're smart, so if you were tying to find someone how would you go about it?"
Willow squealed and clapped her hands together. "You met someone? Who is she? Tell me everything!"
Without looking her in the eye, Xander carefully selected his words. "Yeah, I met....her...in the mall. First name is, um, Suzy. She works in a hair salon there. She gave me her number, but you know how clumsy I am. I lost it. So, what do I do?"
Willow crossed her legs casually. "Phone book?"
Xander shook his head. "Can't remember her last name."
Willow uncrossed and sat back, tapping her finger tips together. "O.k. Got it. You call the place where she works and tell them you want to make an appointment but can't remember the stylist that was recommended to you. When they give the names, stop them at Suzy and ask her last name. To make sure it's the right one."
Xander sat up straight. "You are brilliant! That's perfect! But what if her name isn't in the phone book?"
Willow flipped her hand in a poo poo manner. "No sweat. Just type her name into zabasearch on the Internet and everyone in California with that name will come up, along with the address, phone numbers, and birthdates. You just pick the one that matches."
Xander jumped up, snatching Willow with him and swung her around, feet dangling several inches off the ground.
"Oh, my God! You are fantastic! I love you, Wil, gotta go. I'll call you." Xander had dropped her back on her feet and was already rushing off toward the library building.
Willow threw her hand up and called after. "Bye. Call Me. Tara's my girlfriend."
Part Seven
Xander was driven. He was a man on a mission and according to the notes he had jotted down in his black notebook, he had a plan.
Stopping at the first pay phone he came to he looked up the number of the salon and made his call. By following Willow's dialog instructions to the letter, he found it was amazingly easy to get William's last name. Pratt. Xander's body shook with tingles that shot straight to his cock each time he said the name. William Pratt. He said it repeatedly. Zing. Zing. Snicker.
Flipping open his note pad to the second page he doodled a big heart with X.H. loves W.P. scrawled across the center.
Sure, he knew it was silly, but Xander was beyond caring. For one brief flash, something crept across his brain that
wondered if possibly he was losing that last shred of sanity that he had precariously held on too.
Nope.
With the name written in big block letters, Xander clutched his notepad and ran for the only other building on campus he could identify. The library was easy to spot since it had huge pillars and a stone arch that announced "LIBRARY" over it's entry way.
Wesley stood by on the campus and watched the young man dart from the pay phone booth to the library. He smiled and shook his head. He could clearly remember the early years when he was a first year student on the college campus.
He had been just like that. Full of excitement at the thrill of learning. Everything had been easier then. Life held unlimited promise. Now it all seemed so hard and complicated. Sadly, Wes turned and headed back to his classroom to await the next scheduled bunch of eager minds. Students anxious to find the key to changing the world.
Hustling into an empty computer cubicle, Xander logged on and opened the search engine. After quickly checking his notes, he typed in the site name that Willow had given him, not really believing it could be that easy. zabasearch.com
After entering the name, the site asked for the state. He selected California and waited patiently while the little search bar filled in quickly.
"BINGO!"
Xander's eyes lit up as four possibles popped up on the screen. By birthdate he was able to eliminate the first two. The third one was somewhere in the northern corner of the region so he knew that wasn't it, but it was the last one that got him excited.
Address: 8605 Locust st. Sunnydale
D.O.B.: 11/10/1984
Phone: 555-269-4502
Xander scribbled frantically, all the information went into his notepad, he couldn't believe it was that simple. Who the fuck
were these folks and how did they know so much about people? It was actually kind of scary. He particularly didn't like the thought of other people snooping around in William's life and getting such private information about his sweetheart. He decided he should really talk to William about this.
Next he went to MapQuest and printed out the driving directions to William's address and, just for the hell of it, he Googled an aerial view. After printing that out also he resolved to pick up a scrap book to put all the printed pages in.
Organization was vital in an operation of this magnitude.
Although he had all the facts written down he hated to shut off the computer. Staring at the name and address of his love gave him the warm and fuzzies. A feeling of destiny on the horizon. Or at least on Locust street.
He was absolutely certain that finding Will this way was what he was meant to do. It was the clue to life that he had been trying to find. The puzzle he couldn't solve. It was meant to be. It was as if he were the "Come on down" contestant on The Price Is Right.
He could see himself standing proud and tall behind the fabulous Plinko board. He stretches. He aims. He takes a deep breath and lets the huge round plinko slip from his fingers. He watches it as it jerks, falls, and changes direction a dozen
different times. Finally, with one resounding "Thunk" it lands. Exactly in the center. In the top winning slot. The slot marked "Mr. William".
The bells ring, the lights flash, and Bob Barker waves his hands. Xander promises to spay and neuter all future pets and he collects his prize. Mr. William is wheeled out in a Mustang convertable.
Xander sighed happily. Collecting together his notebook and paperwork, Xander cleared the history from the computer to assure no one else would know where William lived, after all the man was entitled to his privacy, and headed for the car.
After zipping through Burger King for a Whopper he headed to the east end of town. He already knew it was William's day off so odds were, he was home. Xander steered with one hand while sucking the catsup off his fries and licking the salty grease off the other.
He could barely contain his excitement. He followed the map directions exactly and within minutes found himself in an older, well kept, residential section of town. He turned onto Locust street and after spotting a house number slowly watched them count up.
When he hit the 8000 block, he slowed to a crawl.
'THERE!' he thought. 'That's it!'
He stared as he crept by, went to the end of the block and made an illegal u-turn. He drove back and parked on the opposite side of the street. His heart pounded in his chest, the butterflies in his stomach went on a wild rampage and his whole body broke out in a sweat.
It was a small, one, possibly two bedroom yellow brick. The classic white picket fence that surrounded it was in need of
some minor repair and a coat of white paint. All things Xander was more than capable of doing. No garage, but it did have a carport. Squinting, Xander could see a large black Harley parked where a car should have been and he felt himself get instantly hard.
Immediately his imagination saw him settled on the back, his arms firmly gripping the driver as they sailed down the highway with the wind in their hair, the bugs in their teeth and matching hard ons in their tight leather chaps.
His daydream was iffy on the helmet issue.
The house looked empty but Xander knew it wasn't. So close. He was so close. He ached to rush forward, ring the bell and throw himself into the strong, corded, muscular arms of his waiting lover.
But, no. This had to be done carefully. He couldn't screw it all up by acting too hastily. He continued to drink in every
detail, till he finally took out his note pad and flipped it open. He began the new entry with the date and time under which he wrote:
Purchase 1 small, disposable camera.
Locate old Boy Scout binoculars.
After another ten minutes, Xander sighed and started the car. He didn't want any of the neighbors calling the cops over a suspicious vehicle sitting on the street. His brain was so full that the ensuing back fire from the tail pipe barely registered as he pulled out and drove away.
"HOLY FUCK!" Spike jumped a foot out of his chair, spilling his cup of tea in his lap. Rushing to the window he jerked back the curtain to see where the sound resembling gun fire had come from. "God damn neighborhood isn't what it used to be."
Part Eight
Wesley stacked the books on his desk and cleared away the piles of ungraded papers. He loaded them into his briefcase
and decided to take them home to read. Sadly, he knew there would be nothing more pressing going on in the bedroom tonight. Walking over to the window of his empty classroom, Wes looked out over the beauty and serenity of the campus he loved. It had been a long day.
Longer than yesterday, and twice as long as the day before. He knew the clock was ticking and he desperately wanted it to stop. He wasn't ready to give up on Spike. On them. But truth was, the decision was not his, probably never had been.
He had cancelled his first period class and, pretending to work on the upcoming exams, had sat and brooded. The rap tap tap on the glass of his classroom door woke him from his mental slump and he turned, with his arms still folded around his body, to see which student wanted a chunk of him now.
"Good afternoon Mr. Price. Could you spare me a few minutes of your time?"
Despite himself, Wes smiled at the dark skinned, bald headed, law professor that stood in his doorway. "Yes. Mr. Gunn, what can I do for you?"
Stepping in to the room, Gunn maintained his professional demeanor and stated his purpose. "I was just on my way back to my apartment and I wondered if you would like to accompany me so I can shove my hard cock into your sweet, tight ass."
Wes dropped his arms and his open mouth as he rushed forward. "QUIET!" he whispered harshly. "What the hell is the matter with you? Anybody could have walked by and heard you!"
Gunn was unruffled. "Why, yes, I believe they could. Therefore I find it most expeditious that we adjourn to my home before I am forced to throw you down on that expansive desk of yours and fuck you immediately."
Wes hollered and laughed. He had forgotten how much fun the song and dance of a new sexual relationship could be and Charles Gunn was the perfect person to remind him. Closing his briefcase, Wes scooped his suit jacket off the back of his chair and tossed it over his arm. "Well since I fear the janitorial staff may have objections to that type of activity, I suggest we adjourn to your place where we may proceed unencumbered."
Both men chuckled, and headed happily to the campus parking lot accidently bumping hands several times as they walked to their assigned spaces.
Living just off campus, it was only a matter of minutes before they pulled in, Wes directly behind Gunn's car, to the mostly empty parking lot of the apartment building that housed only untenured staff members. Wes was enormously grateful for the short trip that did not allow his brain time to catch up, and possibly pass, his cock that was already
hard and thinking. Guilt was a real mood killer.
The moment both men stepped inside the messy apartment, two matching briefcases hit the floor and Gunn slammed Wes back against the door. Flattening his larger, hard body onto Wes's, Gunn dove in for a kiss that curled the toe nails of the smaller man. Wes loved to kiss. Deeply, wetly, hot and searching, he let his mouth be plundered and tasted by the most
agile tongue he had ever met.
Wesley had tried constantly in the beginning to coax Spike to kiss. Closed lipped, open mouthed, quick, slow, nothing could persuade him. "I just don't like to kiss," was the response he always got till, finally, he had just given up.
'How could anyone not want this?' he wondered as he threw his arms up and around Gunn's neck, pulling him even closer.
Coming up for air, Gunn eased back and looked Wes in the eye. "I'm gonna strip you naked, put you on your hands and knees like a dog, climb on your back and shove this thick piece of black meat deep into your tight, pink little hole."
Wes threw his head back, causing it to smack soundly against the door, and moaned his acceptance to the proposed plan.
With the mission clearly outlined, Gunn went about quickly undressing them both, then paused. Running his large, rough hands over Wes's pale skin, Gunn licked his lips. "God you're beautiful. Just look at that hard cock. Oh, is that for me?" Gunn swiped his thumb over the large bubble of pre cum that oozed from Wes's cock head and licked it off.
Wes whimpered. His fingers picked at the tight black curls on Gunn's chest letting them feel down the hair line to the coarse nest that surrounded the most amazing cock he had ever seen. In the few times they had been together Wes had never tired of looking at it.
Reaching around, Gunn slapped Wes on the ass and ordered. "Down! Down, boy!" Wes chuckled at the false dog command and did as he was told. Resting forward on his elbows, Wes placed his cheek and knees on the bright oriental rug that sat in front of the fireplace, ass high in the air.
Behind him, Gunn dropped back, rested his heels on his ass and admired the view. He ran his hands over the white round globes of heaven that were being offered to him. "Fuck, Wes, I love your ass. Jesus it's so sweet, so soft. I could just
fuck you for hours." Gunn pulled Wes open and both men groaned, Wes's hole clenching in the cool air. "Oh, no, Baby, don't tighten up now. Its gonna be hard enough to get all this cock shoved inside that tiny little hole. Might just hurt anyway. You know, burn and ache when I force it open."
Wes gasped and rocked back toward Gunn's promises. Nobody could talk a good fuck like Gunn. It made Wes want to squirt before they even got started.
Reaching under the couch beside them Wes caught sight of Gunn retrieving a bottle of lube and a condom. It never occurred to him to ask why they were there, he was just thrilled that they were.
Pulling the cheeks as open as he could, Gunn shoved his whole face in to the crack of Wes's ass then, holding the cheeks tightly closed, he sealed his mouth and nose in and proceeded to blow an exaggerated raspberry against Wes's wrinkled opening.
BBBRRRRAAAAAPPPPP!!!!!
Squealing, Wes threw his head back and let out a war whoop. "AHHHHH! Quit that!" He was laughing so hard he could hardly breath.
Taking advantage of his partners relaxed state, Gunn slicked up two fingers and slid them in, easily finding the spongy nub he knew was there. Immediately Wes stilled and dropped his face back down. "Oh, yeah, just like that. Damn that's good."
Gunn kissed and caressed Wes's ass and back as he continued to work his fingers, opening and readying the man for the pleasure to come. Sliding them out, he fit the condom down over himself then, with extra slick, pushed three fingers in and continued to worship the body of the man he was quickly becoming infatuated with.
Just as Wes was ready to scream from anticipation, Gunn removed his fingers, lined up the head of his cock and with his hand on Wes's back, forced it through the ring of muscle.
The wonderful pain and burn filled Wes's body, causing his cock to harden even more. Automatically, Wes reached for himself and with a well practiced twist of the wrist, began stroking, rocking back and forth.
Gunn watched the beauty of the thick black length slide smoothly in and out of the contrasting pale pink flesh. "Oh, fuck, Wes. I'm gonna line the walls of my bedroom with mirrors so you can see how beautiful this is. Watch us fuck. See how good I look inside your body."
Wes gasped at the thought. "Yeah, yeah, Oh God, Charles, yeah."
His hand sped up matched only by the speed and depth of Gunn's urgent need, pounding against Wes's prostate on every other thrust. Together they grunted, groaned, whispered, and cursed their way to a gut wrenching, teeth rattling orgasm. Gunn came first, freezing and filling the tip of the condom to overfull, all the time wishing it was Wes's body that was holding the semen he pumped out.
Wes was two strokes behind him mumbling an appropriately Chinese sounding garble as he spilled himself onto the oriental rug below.
Part Nine
Wes had loaded his briefcase, along with the ton and a half of guilt that he carried, into the back seat of his car and sped across town. As usual Charles had tried to coax him to stay with promises of dinner, a rented movie and all the sex his eager body could stand. Wes had, as they both knew he would, refused, explaining that it was Spike's day off and he would be home waiting on him.
Before the ususal conversation of "Why do you stay?" could even begin, Wes was dressed and out the door.
Whipping onto Locust street, Wes pulled into the carport carefully so not to bump the prized bike that sat there.
He grabbed up his belongings and dashed in. As expected, Spike sat at the computer researching stocks and bonds. Things that couldn't have interested Wes less. Darting through on his way to the bathroom, Wes planted a quick
kiss on the back of Spike's downturned head. "Hi, Babe. I'm a little late. Had to stay over with a student that's failing
his English studies. What's for dinner?"
Cringing and wrinkling his nose, Spike sat up and slowly took his glasses off. He laid them on the desk and rubbed his hands over his tired eyes. "Take a shower, Wes. You stink."
Wesley's heart pounded so loudly in his chest he was sure the neighbors could hear it. He chuckled weakly and pretended to sniff his under arms. "Yeah, well, southern California. Hot as hell out there."
Instantly furious at the implied insult to his intelligence, Spike jumped to his feet and turned to face his boyfriend. "Bull Shit! I know what an ass fucking smells like, Wes. At least be honest enough to admit it then go wash it the fuck off."
His own temper now flaring, Wes slammed down his shirt and suit coat on the end of the bed and returned to the living room for the face off that had been a long time coming. "How the fuck would you know what it smells like? Is your long term memory that good? You want honesty? Well so do I? Where do we stand, Spike? Is this it? Is this all the further our relationship goes? Do we even have a fucking relationship?"
Crossing his arms, Spike felt himself calm with righteous indignation. "I don't know, Wes. Can you call it a relationship when one of the partners fucks another man then comes home smelling of his cum as it runs down his legs"
Wes felt sick. His stomach tied in knots and his voice level fell to almost nothing. He knew the time for denial was long past. His only fear now was losing what he wasn't sure he ever had. "He used a condom. Something you never do since you apparently can't stand the thought of having real sex with me. Why is that Spike? Why can't you stand to kiss me or make love to me? I'm not Angel, Spike."
Spike flinched at the painful comment. "No, you're not, and you would never cheat with another man, would you? Oh, wait a minute, isn't that exactly what you are doing?"
Wes had no answer. Was it cheating if there was no relationship? Was it cheating if there was no love?
Spike stood silently and looked at the man in front of him. It suddenly struck him as very strange that he knew less about Wes and his past than he knew about most of his regular clients that talked to him while he did their hair.
He knew the names of their children, what kind of work they did, and the last time they had a fight with their husbands, including who was right and who was wrong. Sadly, Spike knew Wes was more than justified in his anger and
disappointment. Even if Wes had told Spike all about himself, Spike couldn't recall one single detail.
He had always tried to be honest and tell Wes they could not have more than they did, but the more Wes tried to pull him in, the more he pulled away. This ship had sunk at port. The sails never felt a breeze and the oars never touched the water.
The silence dragged on a beat too long and Wes's anger was flushed away on a wave of sorrow. Shaking his head he turned and walked away, through the bedroom and into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind him.
Spike stepped forward. He wanted to say "Stop, wait." He wanted to go after him and apologize. He thought about stepping in the shower with him and washing away all traces of the other man. In the end he did none of those. Picking up his glasses, Spike sat back down and returned to the site he had been studying earlier. He picked up his calculator and the tap tap of it was the only sound he made.
~*~*~*~*~
Xander stopped by the drive thru window of the First Second St. bank and withdrew his last $250.00 He had been so proud of himself over the three years it took him to save it, but this was an emergency.
He had always considered it a rainy day fund and by God the storm clouds had fuckin' let loose. He was standing in the middle of a William downpour and he needed Goddamn supplies. Heading down to the local strip mall he darted in to the Everything's A Dollar store. There he purchased two pair of dark glasses, a scrap book with glue stick, a throw away camera, and a black ball cap with "Get-R-Done" emblazoned across the bill.
There was a huge bin of the hats available. Apparently they had not sold well at Sears.
He jumped back in the Chevy and dutifully logged all purchases in the back of the notebook. Just in case he needed it for tax purposes. Damn that Uncle Sam.
Resisting the overwhelming urge to go by the house again, Xander turned west and headed home. He needed to review and replot the next step in his plan. Whistling happily, Xander pulled up in front of his house, collected his supplies and headed for the man cave where he spread it all out on the top of the washing machine.
He sorted through everything and laid it all out neatly.
In alphabetical order.
camera
hat
glasses
glue
money
notebook
pen
scrapbook
Now he was getting somewhere!
He plopped down on his sofa bed and proceeded to read over his notes, check his log and think about everything that had happened today. He decided he would need lotion.
"XAAAAANDERRRRR"
'Fuck" He was only three strokes into his contemplation when the interruption
threw him off his game. His hand stopped but never released.
Throwing his head back he matched screech for screech.
"WHAT?!?"
Part Ten
Xander stood in the moldy room that was his world, one hand on his hip the other gripping his firm, insistent
manhood. "What do you want? I'm busy!" Glancing down at the best friend strangling in his fist, he smiled his reassurance. "Hang on, Buddy. We'll finish this in a minute."
Buddy winked his patience. He knew Xander would never let him down.
"Your Dad is taking me to the VFW for a sandwich and a beer. You wanna come?"
Xander smirked. If he hadn't been so rudely interrupted he no doubt would have come already. "No thanks. Got a project down here. Workin' on something big. You two go ahead. I'll get a bite later."
Xander heard his father's usual comment of "That somethin' better be a fuckin' job," and his Mother's answering "Hush, Tony. Don't push the boy."
She then shouted down in an overly loud voice, "Have fun, Sweety, we'll be home later," followed by the slam of the door.
"Finally! Now where was I? Oh, yes"
Walking, a little clumsily, to the washer, Xander scanned over all the things he had spread out and his hand resumed its movement. Slow and steady at first, it sped up as he read and reread the name and address.
The page with the heart and initials made him smile and twist his wrist on the next upstroke. Running his free hand over the page, he moaned and swiped this thumb over the leaking head. "Yeah, William, just like that."
It was good. It was all so fuckin' good, but he needed something. Just something special to get him over the hump.
When the idea hit him it was like lightning up and down his spine. Three more tugging strokes and he came violently over his hand and onto the woven rag rug beneath his feet. Snatching up a dirty tube sock from the floor, Xander quickly swiped at the mess and tossed it back down with it's mate.
Scooping the black note pad out from under it's place between money and pen, he thumbed through till he found what he was looking for. The phone number! He would call him. Just once. Just to hear his voice. It was fucking perfect. His paranoid Father paid the extra two bucks a month to have their name and number blocked from call I.D. so the call couldn't be traced to him. Not that he cared. He was certain William wouldn't mind.
Xander felt positively giddy as he rushed up the stairs to the thankfully empty house, into the kitchen and straight to the phone.
He reached and stopped. He pulled his hand back and stared at it. He reached again and pulled back. "I can't. I can't do it. It's just too much."
Xander paced the kitchen staring at the name and number in his book. Then, decision made, before he could second think himself, he marched over, lifted the receiver and dialed the now memorized number.
"Oh FUCK! I'T'S RINGING!"
Xander bounced on the balls of his feet and gripped the counter top to prevent himself from hyperventilating. Xander thought he would pass out. It was all he could do not to hang up and run to his room and dive under the covers.
Three rings.
Now he was confused. Had Spike gone out since he had watched the house? Was he refusing to answer? Was he in bed with another man?
Just as Xander was about to scream from frustration, the ringing stopped.
"Hello?"
Only one word, but Xander knew. It was William. Xander held his breath at the magnificence of the voice.
"Hello?"
It was fucking amazing! Xander had called and William had answered!
"Is there someone there? Speak up Pet or I hang up."
Xander clutched the receiver tightly in his sweaty palm. William was talking to him. Asking him a question. Xander thought he may faint from the pounding of his heart. He wanted to speak, to say something, but what?
Click.
Just as quickly as it had begun, it ended. Xander turned around and leaned back against the wall. He held the phone to his cheek, sighed, then kissed it before gently replacing it on the hook.
Flying back downstairs he dove onto his sofa bed, tugged the blanket up to his chin and rocking back and forth, giggled uncontrollably. This was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him. Immediately leaping back to his feet, Xander paced wildly with his hands clasped behind his back
"O.k. Now what? What do I do next. I need to talk to him. I need to spend some time with him. If he just gets to know me then he will see that we belong together. But how? How do I do that?"
Xander froze.
He stared at the things on the washer and saw them all come together in his mind. The notes, the info, the money.
His sticky hands drifted slowly to his head and felt around. Shaggy, unkempt, straggly. He needed a fuckin' haircut!!!
It was brilliant. It was fabulous. He would call, make an appointment, and just stroll in big as life. They would laugh, talk, get to know each other and spend some quality time.
Running into the bathroom, Xander wiped off the mirror over the sink and proceeded to practice his best "conversation" face. He did "laughing guy' "Surprised guy" and "thoughtfully sincere guy."
The last one, he felt, needed work. It was coming off more like "constipated guy" and that was clearly NOT attractive.
He scratched his head and thought. 'I need someone to try it out on. Bounce some ideas off of.'
Xander leaped the stairs, two at a time, grabbed the phone and started punching numbers.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Willow, best bud, what's up, what's happening, what's shaking?"
"Hey, Xan. Wow, you sound happy today. What's going on? Hey! Did you find her?"
Xander momentarily wrinkled up in confusion. "Her? Oh, Suzy? Um, yeah. Found her. Called her. It's all good, say Willow, how about you and me go out this week-end? Just like old times. A trip to the Bronze for a little dancing, a
little drinking, a little conversation. What do you say?"
"Sure, great, um, you wouldn't care if Tara tags along would you? She's great and I really would like you two to get to know each other."
Xander groaned. 'Fuck' he thought. 'Willow's trying to fix me up. Just what I DON"T need
right now.'
With a clenched smile on his face he switched hands with the phone and answered. "Sure. Bring her along."
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