Shadowlands Part 6
Mar. 29th, 2005 02:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lunabee34We're finally getting somewhere on the slashy meter people!!!! Woo hoo!
Title: Shadowlands part 6
Email: lunabee34@yahoo.com
Rating: NC-17 (ooh, the sex draweth nigh)
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Disclaimers: The Buffyverse and all its characters belong to Joss Whedon & co. The story is mine.
Summary: Set immediately after the Ats ep "Damage." Xander finds out Spike is alive and comes to L. A. to see for himself.
Beta:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kitty_poker1 *smooch smooch*
Previous parts HERE
Shadowlands Part 6
“Xander Harris, this is Doyle.”
Xander stood to shake Doyle’s hand, noting that the other man seemed reluctant to touch him. Doyle’s palm was slightly damp as it pressed against Xander’s for a brief moment, and Doyle barely met his gaze, choosing instead to watch Spike with an intense and restless desperation that surprised Xander. What is with this guy?
“Just Doyle?” Xander asked, sitting back down on the couch.
“Yeah, just Doyle,” Spike answered from the kitchen. He reappeared with three beers and sank back down on the couch next to Xander. “Have a seat, mate.” Spike directed Doyle to the empty armchair.
Doyle sat, taking off his jacket and folding it across the back of the chair. Xander immediately noticed the black ink that colored Doyle’s tanned skin. His arms were covered in tattoos, tribal markings that told in flesh a kind of narrative, both lyrical and strange. Those tattoos look so familiar. I swear I’ve seen them somewhere before. Maybe in Africa?
“How do you know each other?” Xander asked politely.
“Doyle here’s my connection to the Powers That Be. They send him visions, and I play the hero. Rescue the damsels in distress. That sorta thing. So, what’s on for tonight?”
Doyle looked back and forth between Spike and Xander, something hard and calculating and almost feral in his eyes. Xander felt his interest in the man rapidly turning to suspicion. I don’t like the way he’s looking at Spike, like he’s some kind of . . . like he’s the only Siamese at a game of kitten poker.
Doyle began, “I’ve had another vision. The Powers want you to intercept Cor— “
Xander interrupted him, concerned. “Are you sure you’re up to this, Spike? You did just have both your hands sewn back on.”
Spike chuckled and slapped him on the back, the sort of friendly tap guys give each other all the time, the sort of touch Xander had felt too rarely in his life. He hadn’t had many guy friends in Sunnydale, and the few he’d had weren’t really the backslapping sort. Oz was a self-contained unit, as reserved with his touch as his words. Riley might’ve high-fived his Army buddies, but was never very open with Xander. Xander thought maybe Riley’s wariness of civilians was to blame for his aloofness. He and Andrew usually had at least a continent in between them, Angel had never been his friend, Giles was more like a father, and Jesse . . . Well, Xander didn’t want to think about Jesse just now. Not when this simple gesture from Spike made him feel less alone than he had in a long time.
“No worries, Harris. I’ll be alright. Especially with an original Slayerette watching my back.”
Xander couldn’t help the huge grin on his face. He wants me to come along! Spike is asking me to patrol with him for old-time’s sake. I feel a tiny yay coming on. Should I be this excited over potential carnage and mayhem?
Doyle flinched and gulped his beer. “Slayerette? What do you mean?”
Spike lit another cigarette and blew a fat smoke ring towards the ceiling. “Harris palled around with the Slayer for years before Sunnydale went under. Even saved the world a couple times, so the story goes.” Spike sent another smoke ring, this one thin and wispy, through the first.
Doyle’s knuckles were white where he gripped the arms of the chair. “Well, then. He should be a big help on this mission. The Powers want you to intercept . . . cars. I mean, there’s a nest of vamps under a car dealership a few blocks from here. Huge bloodbath planned for tomorrow if you guys don’t stop it.” Doyle stood abruptly, shrugging into his jacket and heading for the door.
“Bye,” Xander called out to the closing door. “Spike, that was weird. Something is seriously off about that guy.”
“Who? Doyle? Nah. He’s just twitchy. Nothing to worry about.”
Yeah, right. My Scooby senses are tingling off the charts. Doyle was gonna say something else before Spike told him I know the Slayer. That was the worst backtrack I’ve heard in a long time. I guess we’ll find out what’s up soon enough.
“Spike, on the way, let me tell you a little story about Angel and Darla . . .”
~ ~ ~
Seven minutes into the battle with the car dealership vamps, and the back of Xander’s head was intimately acquainted with the bumper of an SUV. From his position on the ground, Xander shoved his stake through a vampire’s heart. He groaned and stood shakily. “I think I prefer smacking myself on headstones.”
Across the lot, Xander could see Spike toying with the last two vamps. Spike moved with animal grace, leaping lithely on top of cars and back down again, duster rippling around him like a black cloud. Xander jogged across the pavement and leaned against a nearby mini-van, absently brushing vamp dust from his clothes as he watched. With a manic grin, Spike dispatched the stragglers and joined Xander.
“You alright, Harris? I saw you knock your head on that Navigator back there.”
“I’m fine. I’m used to knocking into things by now.” But Spike’s hands were gently touching him anyway, one pressing lightly into the back of his head, the other cupping his jaw for stability. Spike’s hand was cool against his face, his thumb resting softly on Xander’s cheekbone, the other fingers curled around the back of his neck. Xander shivered slightly as Spike’s fingertips probed the wound on his skull. A slow warmth radiated through Xander’s body, flushing the skin where Spike held him. Xander’s eye locked with eyes darkened by adrenaline and something else—something primal and unidentifiable. Xander shivered again under Spike’s touch, his heart racing. Abruptly, Spike released him and plunged his hands deep into the pockets of his duster.
What the hell was that? I think I wanted Spike to . . . I don’t know. Something. Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought.
“That knot’s nothing serious. You’ll be right as rain in a day or two. You oughta take it easy, though. Where are you staying?”
Xander swallowed and forced himself not to caress the spot on his cheek where he could still feel Spike’s thumb resting. “Not far from here, actually.”
“I’ll walk you, then,” Spike said.
The two walked in silence for a couple blocks until Xander cleared his throat. “Spike, part of the reason I came to L.A. was to offer you somewhere to bunk down. If you want it. You don’t have to stay here. You could come back to Africa with me. And before you freak out, I didn’t tell anybody else you were alive. Andrew said you didn’t want us to know. But without asking, I know Wills and Kennedy would love to have you in Rio, Andrew’d probably cream his pants if you came to London, and Dawn . . . Well, Dawnie’s really missed you. You’re always wanted wherever she is.” Please don’t call me on not mentioning Buffy. I’m not ready to have the “she’s so completely moved on it’s not even funny” conversation, yet.
Spike stopped and put a hand on Xander’s arm. “You really came all this way to offer me a place to stay?” Spike had that same cartoonish look of shock on his face from earlier in the night. Xander nodded. “It’s not another basement, is it?”
Xander laughed. “No. More like a tent. But Willow or Dawn could probably hook you up with another Basement of Doom if you’re really jonesing for spiders and mold.”
Spike smiled, a little shyly. “I . . . I don’t know what to say, Xander. That means a lot to me. I’ll give it some thought.”
“Hey, no rush. I’m here on the Council’s dime. Take all the time you need.” From where he stood, Xander could see his hotel a block up the street. “Do you wanna have a drink on the corporate card? You’re welcome to come up.”
“Nah. Think I’ll go pester Peaches for a while. Tell him I know about Connor.”
Xander nodded. “Go easy on him, Spike. He’s really torn up about it.”
“Yeah. S'pose he would be.”
“Goodnight, Spike.”
“Night, Harris.”
Xander watched Spike stalk away, finally allowing his fingers to trail over the smooth plane of face Spike’s fingers had touched so gently.
~ ~ ~
Xander unlaced his boots and stretched out on the hotel bed. He hit redial on his cell phone and waited for Andrew to pick up.
“Hey, Xander! How goes it, mi amigo? Tell me everything.”
“Where to start? Okay, the memory mojo—long story short, Angel has a son, and he doesn’t want anyone to know. But that’s a conversation for a night when I don’t already have a splitting headache. What else? Cordelia is dead, or about to die. I’m not sure which. She’s ascending to a higher plane to serve the Powers That Be. But she woke up and told me goodbye. I’m glad I got to see her one last time.”
“I’m so sorry, Xan. I know what she meant to you. I didn’t really know her. She only talked to me a couple times in high school. Once to tell me my fly was unzipped after my science presentation was finished, and another time, during Earth Week, she told me and Jonathon we should go ahead and die to conserve oxygen for the deserving.”
Xander shook his head ruefully. “Ouch. That sounds like Queen C, alright.” Xander pressed the bridge of his nose tightly. He wasn’t going to start crying, not now. “Listen, Andrew, can you tell the rest of the gang about Cordy for me? I can’t talk to Willow right now. Spike still doesn’t want the others to know he’s alive, and she’d drag it out of me in thirty seconds flat. She always knows when I’m keeping secrets.”
“Sure thing, Xander. Speaking of Spike, have you seen him, yet?”
“Yeah. I think he might actually come back with me. He said he’d think about it. But I haven’t even gotten to the weirdest part of the trip so far, Andrew.”
“Dare I even ask?”
Xander rolled over onto his stomach. “Get this. Anya sent me a note through Cordy. Basically, it says that I’m destined to fall in love again and that she’s okay with it. Then the note sends me to this bar. Where I meet this guy. Who I later have ‘a moment’ with. I didn’t put two and two together at the time but, now that I’ve had a little time to think about it, Anya’s not exactly known for her subtlety. I’m so confused. I don’t know what to do.”
“What do you mean ‘a moment’? I want all the details.”
Xander grinned. “They’re not very juicy. Nothing really happened. He just touched my face, and I got all hormony and tingly. No guy has ever made me feel that way before. What do you think it means, Andrew? Maybe I’m gay?”
“Not necessarily, Xander. You could be bi, or maybe it’s just this one guy that does it for you, not guys in general.”
“Well, how do I know?” Xander knew he sounded a tad frantic, but he also knew Andrew would understand. Andrew had struggled with his sexuality all throughout high school, only officially coming out in the last year.
“Calm down, Xander.” He could hear the understanding and a touch of amusement in Andrew’s voice. “Here’s a gayness quiz courtesy of Dawn’s Cosmo. It says, ‘Try imagining another guy, not the one you’re crushing on, naked.’”
Xander rolled his eye. “Cause Cosmo’s so scientifically accurate.”
Andrew giggled. “Just do it, Xander.”
Xander sighed. “Okay. Fine.” In his mind, a picture began to form. A very naked man, one foot propped up on a stack of books, glasses dangling saucily from his left hand. Xander shook his head. “Oh, god. My eye. Giles butt-naked in the library is so not an image I want in my brain.”
Andrew could barely speak through his laughter. “I tell you to imagine a guy naked, and you go with Giles? Maybe you’re not only gay but into the geriatric set. Jeez, Xander. I’m insulted. At least I’m a little more your age bracket.”
“Ha ha. Laugh it up. No offense, but I’m not imagining you naked either, Andrew. One bare-assed Watcher is quite enough for me, thanks.”
“Okay, then. Imagine Spike naked.”
“Kinda defeats the purpose of the exercise.”
Xander moved the phone away from his ear at Andrew’s piercing squeal. “I knew it! He’s ensnared you with his Viggo Mortensen pectorals. Listen, Xander, crushing on Spike doesn’t make you gay. Everything with a functioning sex drive wants Spike; he’s his own sexual orientation.” Andrew paused. “All joking aside, what are you gonna do?”
“I don’t know. Totally disregarding the whole he’s a guy thing, there’s so much history between us. Not to mention that it feels weird to even think about loving somebody besides Anya. It’s just really hard, like impossible, to imagine me and Spike together.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“Have a little self-control, Andrew. I mean together in the happily ever after, ultimate destiny kinda way. Does Dawn’s Cosmo have any advice for deciphering messages from beyond the grave?”
“I’ll check.”
Unexpectedly, something clicked in Xander’s memory. Dawn! That’s it. I know where I’ve seen those tattoos.
“Andrew, I gotta go. I just remembered I have to do something important. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Alright. Later, Xander.”
“Bye.”
Xander fished under the bed for his shoes, muttering to himself. “Gotta find Spike and tell him about Doyle.”
“Tell him what about me?” Xander froze. Doyle walked out of the bathroom holding a wooden box. Before Xander could gather his wits, something blue and slimy was flying from the box and attaching itself to his chest with a moist sucking sound.
“Oh, shit. Figures,” Xander whispered before everything went black.
TBC
Title: Shadowlands part 6
Email: lunabee34@yahoo.com
Rating: NC-17 (ooh, the sex draweth nigh)
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Disclaimers: The Buffyverse and all its characters belong to Joss Whedon & co. The story is mine.
Summary: Set immediately after the Ats ep "Damage." Xander finds out Spike is alive and comes to L. A. to see for himself.
Beta:
kitty_poker1 *smooch smooch*Previous parts HERE
Shadowlands Part 6
“Xander Harris, this is Doyle.”
Xander stood to shake Doyle’s hand, noting that the other man seemed reluctant to touch him. Doyle’s palm was slightly damp as it pressed against Xander’s for a brief moment, and Doyle barely met his gaze, choosing instead to watch Spike with an intense and restless desperation that surprised Xander. What is with this guy?
“Just Doyle?” Xander asked, sitting back down on the couch.
“Yeah, just Doyle,” Spike answered from the kitchen. He reappeared with three beers and sank back down on the couch next to Xander. “Have a seat, mate.” Spike directed Doyle to the empty armchair.
Doyle sat, taking off his jacket and folding it across the back of the chair. Xander immediately noticed the black ink that colored Doyle’s tanned skin. His arms were covered in tattoos, tribal markings that told in flesh a kind of narrative, both lyrical and strange. Those tattoos look so familiar. I swear I’ve seen them somewhere before. Maybe in Africa?
“How do you know each other?” Xander asked politely.
“Doyle here’s my connection to the Powers That Be. They send him visions, and I play the hero. Rescue the damsels in distress. That sorta thing. So, what’s on for tonight?”
Doyle looked back and forth between Spike and Xander, something hard and calculating and almost feral in his eyes. Xander felt his interest in the man rapidly turning to suspicion. I don’t like the way he’s looking at Spike, like he’s some kind of . . . like he’s the only Siamese at a game of kitten poker.
Doyle began, “I’ve had another vision. The Powers want you to intercept Cor— “
Xander interrupted him, concerned. “Are you sure you’re up to this, Spike? You did just have both your hands sewn back on.”
Spike chuckled and slapped him on the back, the sort of friendly tap guys give each other all the time, the sort of touch Xander had felt too rarely in his life. He hadn’t had many guy friends in Sunnydale, and the few he’d had weren’t really the backslapping sort. Oz was a self-contained unit, as reserved with his touch as his words. Riley might’ve high-fived his Army buddies, but was never very open with Xander. Xander thought maybe Riley’s wariness of civilians was to blame for his aloofness. He and Andrew usually had at least a continent in between them, Angel had never been his friend, Giles was more like a father, and Jesse . . . Well, Xander didn’t want to think about Jesse just now. Not when this simple gesture from Spike made him feel less alone than he had in a long time.
“No worries, Harris. I’ll be alright. Especially with an original Slayerette watching my back.”
Xander couldn’t help the huge grin on his face. He wants me to come along! Spike is asking me to patrol with him for old-time’s sake. I feel a tiny yay coming on. Should I be this excited over potential carnage and mayhem?
Doyle flinched and gulped his beer. “Slayerette? What do you mean?”
Spike lit another cigarette and blew a fat smoke ring towards the ceiling. “Harris palled around with the Slayer for years before Sunnydale went under. Even saved the world a couple times, so the story goes.” Spike sent another smoke ring, this one thin and wispy, through the first.
Doyle’s knuckles were white where he gripped the arms of the chair. “Well, then. He should be a big help on this mission. The Powers want you to intercept . . . cars. I mean, there’s a nest of vamps under a car dealership a few blocks from here. Huge bloodbath planned for tomorrow if you guys don’t stop it.” Doyle stood abruptly, shrugging into his jacket and heading for the door.
“Bye,” Xander called out to the closing door. “Spike, that was weird. Something is seriously off about that guy.”
“Who? Doyle? Nah. He’s just twitchy. Nothing to worry about.”
Yeah, right. My Scooby senses are tingling off the charts. Doyle was gonna say something else before Spike told him I know the Slayer. That was the worst backtrack I’ve heard in a long time. I guess we’ll find out what’s up soon enough.
“Spike, on the way, let me tell you a little story about Angel and Darla . . .”
~ ~ ~
Seven minutes into the battle with the car dealership vamps, and the back of Xander’s head was intimately acquainted with the bumper of an SUV. From his position on the ground, Xander shoved his stake through a vampire’s heart. He groaned and stood shakily. “I think I prefer smacking myself on headstones.”
Across the lot, Xander could see Spike toying with the last two vamps. Spike moved with animal grace, leaping lithely on top of cars and back down again, duster rippling around him like a black cloud. Xander jogged across the pavement and leaned against a nearby mini-van, absently brushing vamp dust from his clothes as he watched. With a manic grin, Spike dispatched the stragglers and joined Xander.
“You alright, Harris? I saw you knock your head on that Navigator back there.”
“I’m fine. I’m used to knocking into things by now.” But Spike’s hands were gently touching him anyway, one pressing lightly into the back of his head, the other cupping his jaw for stability. Spike’s hand was cool against his face, his thumb resting softly on Xander’s cheekbone, the other fingers curled around the back of his neck. Xander shivered slightly as Spike’s fingertips probed the wound on his skull. A slow warmth radiated through Xander’s body, flushing the skin where Spike held him. Xander’s eye locked with eyes darkened by adrenaline and something else—something primal and unidentifiable. Xander shivered again under Spike’s touch, his heart racing. Abruptly, Spike released him and plunged his hands deep into the pockets of his duster.
What the hell was that? I think I wanted Spike to . . . I don’t know. Something. Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought.
“That knot’s nothing serious. You’ll be right as rain in a day or two. You oughta take it easy, though. Where are you staying?”
Xander swallowed and forced himself not to caress the spot on his cheek where he could still feel Spike’s thumb resting. “Not far from here, actually.”
“I’ll walk you, then,” Spike said.
The two walked in silence for a couple blocks until Xander cleared his throat. “Spike, part of the reason I came to L.A. was to offer you somewhere to bunk down. If you want it. You don’t have to stay here. You could come back to Africa with me. And before you freak out, I didn’t tell anybody else you were alive. Andrew said you didn’t want us to know. But without asking, I know Wills and Kennedy would love to have you in Rio, Andrew’d probably cream his pants if you came to London, and Dawn . . . Well, Dawnie’s really missed you. You’re always wanted wherever she is.” Please don’t call me on not mentioning Buffy. I’m not ready to have the “she’s so completely moved on it’s not even funny” conversation, yet.
Spike stopped and put a hand on Xander’s arm. “You really came all this way to offer me a place to stay?” Spike had that same cartoonish look of shock on his face from earlier in the night. Xander nodded. “It’s not another basement, is it?”
Xander laughed. “No. More like a tent. But Willow or Dawn could probably hook you up with another Basement of Doom if you’re really jonesing for spiders and mold.”
Spike smiled, a little shyly. “I . . . I don’t know what to say, Xander. That means a lot to me. I’ll give it some thought.”
“Hey, no rush. I’m here on the Council’s dime. Take all the time you need.” From where he stood, Xander could see his hotel a block up the street. “Do you wanna have a drink on the corporate card? You’re welcome to come up.”
“Nah. Think I’ll go pester Peaches for a while. Tell him I know about Connor.”
Xander nodded. “Go easy on him, Spike. He’s really torn up about it.”
“Yeah. S'pose he would be.”
“Goodnight, Spike.”
“Night, Harris.”
Xander watched Spike stalk away, finally allowing his fingers to trail over the smooth plane of face Spike’s fingers had touched so gently.
~ ~ ~
Xander unlaced his boots and stretched out on the hotel bed. He hit redial on his cell phone and waited for Andrew to pick up.
“Hey, Xander! How goes it, mi amigo? Tell me everything.”
“Where to start? Okay, the memory mojo—long story short, Angel has a son, and he doesn’t want anyone to know. But that’s a conversation for a night when I don’t already have a splitting headache. What else? Cordelia is dead, or about to die. I’m not sure which. She’s ascending to a higher plane to serve the Powers That Be. But she woke up and told me goodbye. I’m glad I got to see her one last time.”
“I’m so sorry, Xan. I know what she meant to you. I didn’t really know her. She only talked to me a couple times in high school. Once to tell me my fly was unzipped after my science presentation was finished, and another time, during Earth Week, she told me and Jonathon we should go ahead and die to conserve oxygen for the deserving.”
Xander shook his head ruefully. “Ouch. That sounds like Queen C, alright.” Xander pressed the bridge of his nose tightly. He wasn’t going to start crying, not now. “Listen, Andrew, can you tell the rest of the gang about Cordy for me? I can’t talk to Willow right now. Spike still doesn’t want the others to know he’s alive, and she’d drag it out of me in thirty seconds flat. She always knows when I’m keeping secrets.”
“Sure thing, Xander. Speaking of Spike, have you seen him, yet?”
“Yeah. I think he might actually come back with me. He said he’d think about it. But I haven’t even gotten to the weirdest part of the trip so far, Andrew.”
“Dare I even ask?”
Xander rolled over onto his stomach. “Get this. Anya sent me a note through Cordy. Basically, it says that I’m destined to fall in love again and that she’s okay with it. Then the note sends me to this bar. Where I meet this guy. Who I later have ‘a moment’ with. I didn’t put two and two together at the time but, now that I’ve had a little time to think about it, Anya’s not exactly known for her subtlety. I’m so confused. I don’t know what to do.”
“What do you mean ‘a moment’? I want all the details.”
Xander grinned. “They’re not very juicy. Nothing really happened. He just touched my face, and I got all hormony and tingly. No guy has ever made me feel that way before. What do you think it means, Andrew? Maybe I’m gay?”
“Not necessarily, Xander. You could be bi, or maybe it’s just this one guy that does it for you, not guys in general.”
“Well, how do I know?” Xander knew he sounded a tad frantic, but he also knew Andrew would understand. Andrew had struggled with his sexuality all throughout high school, only officially coming out in the last year.
“Calm down, Xander.” He could hear the understanding and a touch of amusement in Andrew’s voice. “Here’s a gayness quiz courtesy of Dawn’s Cosmo. It says, ‘Try imagining another guy, not the one you’re crushing on, naked.’”
Xander rolled his eye. “Cause Cosmo’s so scientifically accurate.”
Andrew giggled. “Just do it, Xander.”
Xander sighed. “Okay. Fine.” In his mind, a picture began to form. A very naked man, one foot propped up on a stack of books, glasses dangling saucily from his left hand. Xander shook his head. “Oh, god. My eye. Giles butt-naked in the library is so not an image I want in my brain.”
Andrew could barely speak through his laughter. “I tell you to imagine a guy naked, and you go with Giles? Maybe you’re not only gay but into the geriatric set. Jeez, Xander. I’m insulted. At least I’m a little more your age bracket.”
“Ha ha. Laugh it up. No offense, but I’m not imagining you naked either, Andrew. One bare-assed Watcher is quite enough for me, thanks.”
“Okay, then. Imagine Spike naked.”
“Kinda defeats the purpose of the exercise.”
Xander moved the phone away from his ear at Andrew’s piercing squeal. “I knew it! He’s ensnared you with his Viggo Mortensen pectorals. Listen, Xander, crushing on Spike doesn’t make you gay. Everything with a functioning sex drive wants Spike; he’s his own sexual orientation.” Andrew paused. “All joking aside, what are you gonna do?”
“I don’t know. Totally disregarding the whole he’s a guy thing, there’s so much history between us. Not to mention that it feels weird to even think about loving somebody besides Anya. It’s just really hard, like impossible, to imagine me and Spike together.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“Have a little self-control, Andrew. I mean together in the happily ever after, ultimate destiny kinda way. Does Dawn’s Cosmo have any advice for deciphering messages from beyond the grave?”
“I’ll check.”
Unexpectedly, something clicked in Xander’s memory. Dawn! That’s it. I know where I’ve seen those tattoos.
“Andrew, I gotta go. I just remembered I have to do something important. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Alright. Later, Xander.”
“Bye.”
Xander fished under the bed for his shoes, muttering to himself. “Gotta find Spike and tell him about Doyle.”
“Tell him what about me?” Xander froze. Doyle walked out of the bathroom holding a wooden box. Before Xander could gather his wits, something blue and slimy was flying from the box and attaching itself to his chest with a moist sucking sound.
“Oh, shit. Figures,” Xander whispered before everything went black.
TBC
