Authors & Email:
Tara
Velvet
Karen
Graceless
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Pairing: Andrew/Warren, eventual Andrew/Xander
Warnings: implied rape, bloodletting, demon summoning and BAD SPELLING, as in I (Tara) have a learning disability and the spell check is not god.
Summery: Plot #2 Round Robin: Pregnant Andrew gets a protecting Xander
Disclaimer: Not ours, we're just playing in their Harem
Notes: Ritual Magic is mentioned; however none is based in truth. No magic mentioned should be tried, it's just written that way for the gory ambiance. Real magick is something else, something totally different. Go read Silver Ravenwolf if you want Magick.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Andrew put the brush onto the paint slab and took a good look at the drawing, making sure that he had the right curve to the letters. Magic, for him, was all in the details.
Warren grinned down guiltily and a bit lustily at Andrew and his upturned bum. With a wicked smirk, he slapped the other cheek, hoping it didn't feel left out. Andrew grinned right back, dropping his paper and tackling Warren. Their lips tangling messily as their bodies did.
"God you look so hot, I want you so much," Warren said, squeezing Andrew's butt cheeks so hard he was sure to bruise them. Crushing their twin erections together tightly, like he was trying to blend their flesh.
"I want you," Andrew moaned back, biting Warren's chin. "Damn it, we can't now, it'd ruin the spell." He pushed Warren away, missing the heated touch instantly.
"Most spells are just icky, but this one, damn it, why am I doing this again?"
Andrew looked at Warren with his big, sad, puppy dog blue eyes, his mouth looking like it wanted to quiver. "Are you saying you don't want to... to?"
Warren sighed, ever-dramatic Andrew, how predictable. "I want to do it, I want us to be boned together but come on; I really would like to fuck around with my boyfriend." Warren smirked as he saw Andrew's cheek blush at his harsh terminology. "We could have used another spell, one that didn't force us to be abstinent for a week."
"This is the best one, it binds us together magically and spiritually. And it's the only one I could find for male warlocks, male human warlocks."
"We had to modify that male to male part, we could have just as easily modified another one from demon to human. Like that one that had us fucking around for a week."
"Well this one is better, it doesn't ask us to sacrifice a testicle apiece. Don't worry; it'll be over soon. I almost have all the symbols painted. Do you have all the supplies and stuff? Maybe you can start putting them in the circle. Oh, and you can go first for the ritual bath. I'll be in, in a while."
"So, you'll be joining me?" Warren smirked, tugging on Andrew's bony wrist.
Andrew just groaned, pushed the bigger boy away, and went pack to his painting. He could see out of the corner of his eye, though, Warren adjusting his package.
Andrew blushed; just a little scared at that thought. Warren had been getting more and more aggressive in sex as the year went on. Since the war on Buffy turned south, Andrew sported quite a few bruises. He wasn't scared of Warren, he trusted him implicitly, but going onto the next step, actually being penetrated by Warren was more then a little intimidating. As the two of them grew closer and Jonathan more distant, Andrew was desperate to keep Warren. So many people had abandoned him; he just couldn't loose Warren too. While he liked sex with a man, really liked sex, having penetrative sex was a whole other story. Sometimes Andrew felt that Warren had only agreed to this bonding ceremony to get into his pants, err, farther into them anyway.
Andrew just wanted to ensure Warren's loyalty. He was so afraid the older boy would leave him, strike it out on his own.
After the bonding ceremony everything would be different, everything would be new. They'd ditch Jonathan, get out of Sunnyhell and away from Buffy and get really rich. Oh and they could go to Russia and become astronauts, like in Space 2000, without Hal, that is.
Andrew quickly finished the symbols, only having to add a little bit more of his blood to last out the ink. The one protection symbol was a little thin and it wouldn't have as much of Warren's blood, but that was ok. He'd protect Warren.
A cleansing soak in the tub and a thorough dry off and Andrew walked out to see Warren butt naked at the east's stool putting something under the cloth. Andrew blushed, remembering the pillow packets of flavored lube, peach- his favorite, which he needed to put under the cloth at his western stool. He still had problems sucking Warren's dick without the lube. His mouth always got too dry and the blowjob wasn't as fun. Of course, Andrew had to wonder what Warren was putting under his cloth. Maybe something neat, like mint lubes that just felt, Mmmmm Wow.
"Everything ready?"
"Yes, I've gotten everything," Andrew said, placing the wet wipes and Neosporin out for after the ceremony.
"Then do you think you can get you're cute ass over here and drop the towel?"
Andrew put the towel back in the bathroom, walking out to the circle butt naked. He wanted to cover himself, to hide. He kept his hands fisted at his sides.
Warren just shook his head, knowing that whatever he said wouldn't make a difference.
The two men placed their athame knives to their left arm, slicing their flesh neatly.
"I call upon the power of the dark one, the god Makarov," the duo said in union, spilling their blood in their respective areas. "God of Union to come forth and approve this bonding."
The duo chanted their respective lines in the guttural dialect, walking around the circle until they crossed at the northern point of the circle.
The two switched blades and stepped into the circle and kneeled at the alter stool in the south.
"I come here this night to bond with Andrew Edward Wells. I ask that Makarov bind me to him. Sanctify this union." Warren took Andrew's right hand in his, slicing the palm neatly. His strong grip held Andrew still, not allowing the bony boy to pull back. Warren curled the hand in his into a fist, lightly kissing the back of Andrew's hand in apology. He held his partner's hand over the goblet, dripping the blood into a dark drink.
"Your turn," he whispered.
"I come, er, I come here this night to b…bond with Warren… Warren…." Andrew's face scrunched up in confusion. "I don't know your middle name."
"It's Gaylord and if you EVER tell anyone," Warren leaves the threat to Andrew's overactive imagination.
"To bond with Warren Gaylord Meers. I ask that Mak…makarov b…bind me to him. S…sanctify this union." Andrew cuts lightly across Warren's hand, barely drawing a sliver of blood. Warren rolls his eyes, takes Andrew's hand and makes a second, deeper cut. He holds his own hand over the goblet, letting the blood drip.
They stand up and go to the center of the circle facing each other. Warren picked up a scrap piece of velvet. He tied the piece around Andrew's bleeding hand, once again kissing it in apology. The arm cut had already stopped bleeding. The circle casting didn't need a lot of blood while the bonding did. The other piece he used to wrap around his own hand.
"And now for the second part," Warren said with joy.
Warren pulled Andrew to himself, very excited that he could finally touch him without having to stop. In fact it would be very, very bad to stop now.
Andrew melted in Warren's embrace, letting their tongues duel in and out, around and around. Warren tugged Andrew down, kneeling and kissing and grinding.
Warren nibbles down Andrew's flesh leaving a mark here, and there, and another there. Thoroughly enjoying how vibrant and colorful his marks are on the pale geeks flesh. He takes hold of Andrew's nipple, rolling it between his teeth causing the young boy to moan and writhe in appreciation.
A simple adjustment of hands, Warren pulls on the back of Andrew's knees, forcing him to the ground and pulling the parted legs over his hips. Andrew's head smacked the floor roughly as he was upturned but Warren was quick with nimble fingers to sooth the hurt.
"Sorry, baby," he murmured into the soft, blond hair. Andrew pouted but Warren quickly kissed it away.
With his new leverage, the older boy could really grind against Andrew; feel him wiggle underneath. Boy, did he love being in charge. His hand sneaked under the east's stool to bring out the large bottle of lube. He slicked his hands up quickly then grabbed their twin erections.
Andrew moaned, thrusting up into Warren's tight grip. He was so close, so damn close, just a little more.
"Damnit," he cursed when Warren took his grip away to tug and fondle his balls. While it felt good, it wasn't getting him off.
"Patience, my padawan. I can make you feel so much better," Warren grinned down evilly. His hand went back for more lube then to Andrew's hole. His fingers circled round and round brushing the opening softly. The sensation nearly sending Andrew into orbit. He had always been a little sensitive there. "We don't want this to be over that soon."
The duo slowed their place, Warren's hands flittering over Andrew's hole while Andrew's flittered over Warren's skin.
It felt fantastic, the fingers fluttering there. He couldn't help his breathy moan for more.
Warren kissed Andrew deeply, making an honest effort to suck out his tongue while his hand snuck out for more lube. His hands were already slathered with the stuff but he really wanted to do something special for this bonding. He knew that Andrew was very scared about having penetrative sex. He just couldn't wait anymore and knew that Andrew need a little pushing to get over his hang-up.
A finger slipped inside and Andrew did this new little scream moan that Warren wanted very much to reproduce. He did it again and again, pushing his finger in and out, feeling the bony boy jerk under him. Andrew really was asking for it.
Warren pushed in a second finger, searching for that little spot he knew about. It wasn't long before Andrew screamed, biting down reflexively on the older boy's shoulder. Warren hit that little spot again, flexing his fingers in that tightness. Stretching that little virgin hole. God, he was ready to come on the spot.
"Moremoremoremoremore," Andrew panted against Warren's skin, loving the feel of being penetrated. Could he actually come this way, with his lover's fingers up his ass?
Warren adjusted his grip on Andrew's legs, pulling them over his arms and baring that wonderful ass to him. He hit the lube, spilling it out messily on the floor. He scooped up a bunch and stroked his cock with it.
"I'm gonna fuck you, Andrew. Gonna fuck you, not fuck around, fuck you," Warren said to the panting boy who just kept murmuring for more. He stabbed his fingers inside a couple more times before taking his cock in hand.
Andrew's chants changed from a lusty more to a confused war…warr… warren?
"We weren't… I'm not… Warren, no…" Andrew said amid Warren's pants of how good and how tight Andrew was. He tried pushing at the older man, trying to get him to stop. They didn't agree on this, he wasn't ready yet. Instinctively he squeezed his muscles to keep Warren from pushing back in.
That backfired enormously. God, that felt so good, he tried again and Warren violently pushed back in, pressing the muscles aside. Andrew's arms flailed around, trying to hold on. His fingernails scrapped into Warren's backside ignored by the both of them as the feelings overwhelmed them.
Warren sped up his trusts, his body aching for release. He barely had the presence of mind to pull on Andrew's cock to make him cum with him.
His body lay heavily over the bony boy's. God, he had just fucked Andrew. He had just cummed inside the boy's body. They had just consummated their bonding.
Warren pushed himself up, his dick slipping from Andrew's body. The boy just laid there, his legs flopping to the side now that Warren's arms weren't holding them back. Yeah, this was so good. He'd have to try it again.
"Andy, Aaandrew," Warren said, kissing the bony boy out of his stupor. He brushed his hands over the pale flesh, sliding over the essence of their copulation. He couldn't help but lick some of it, relishing the taste. After they finished the ceremony he'd have to blow Andrew, taste it fresh. "Come on, we have to drink from the cup and ask for Makarov's blessing."
"Warren, you… we weren't,"
Warren shushed him, pressing a finger against his lips. "I know but it felt damn good didn't it. We have to finish the ceremony. I'll make it up to you."
He pulled Andrew with him to face the stool in the south where the goblet of Makarov's drink mixed with their blood stood. Warren picked up the goblet and held it to the sky.
"I have consummated my union with Andrew Edward Wells and ask that you bless this bonding. May my flesh become part of his flesh and his flesh a part of mine." Warren lifted the goblet to his lips, sipping the syrupy sweet liquid inside.
"Now you," Warren said, handing the goblet to Andrew. He smiled endearingly at the bony boy, wondering how he'll react to his surprise.
"Do I really have to drink the blood? I can just put some on my tongue, would that be ok?"
"Too late to back out now, Andrew. Just take a sip. It's ok, doesn't taste bad."
"I have consumm…consummated my un… union with Warren Gaylord Meers and ask that you bless the bonding." Andrew dipped his head in embarrassment, thinking on what they just did. "May my flesh become part of his flesh and his flesh a part of mine." He finished quickly and took a quick gulp from the goblet.
His face scrunched up expecting the potion to taste bad but quickly changed when he realized that it didn't taste too bad. He looked into the cup in confusion.
"There's something in here?" Andrew reached into the goblet to pull out two rings. He looked at Warren in surprise, putting the goblet down on the southern stool. He stared at them in confusion until Warren picked them out of Andrew's hand and used some of the velvet wrapped on his hand to clear the blood and drink mixture.
"They're special rings. I glammoured them," Warren said, picking up one of the candles. He held one of the rings in the flame until a cursive script started to glow red on the flawless gold surface. "Just like the real ring of power. Here let me put it on."
Andrew nodded dumbly, holding out his hand for Warren to put the ring- union ring? bonding ring? wedding ring? magic ring?- put the ring on his finger.
"The Greeks believed that all the blood in the heart flowed through one vein into the finger on the left hand. The ring goes on the left finger because it's wrapped around your heart blood. Am I wrapped around your heart, Andrew?"
"Yesyesyesyesyes," Andrew continued, kissing Warren fiercely.
This was so cool, he just couldn't believe it. He was bonded with Warren.
Bonded, together, forever.
Yeah.
Suddenly the loss of his virginity didn't seem so bad anymore.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Andrew shook himself awake, checking to see if he was drooling down the seat back he was laying against. The bus had hit a pothole, jerking him out of his dream.
He remembered that night well. Remembered the smell of the incense, the taste of blood in his mouth, the feel of Warren's flesh against his. Of course that night would always be imprinted on his mind. It wasn't just the night he lost his virginity or the fact that he bonded with Warren. It was also the night when he became pregnant with Warren's child.
Andrew twisted the silver ring off his finger that controlled the glamour that hid his pregnancy. He slipped his hand under his shirts, feeling the swell of his abdomen. It was hard to tell how big he was but he could feel the warmth and the curve of a body inside.
He had to close his eyes tightly to keep himself from crying.
"It's ok, my love," Warren's voice whispered in his ear causing Andrew to start.
"You're still, you're…"
"Still around? Yes I am; gotta stick around for my boy." Andrew felt the slightest whisper of a cold breeze on his stomach. He looked down to see Warren the First's hand disappearing and reappearing through his shirt, as if the specter was caressing the baby's resting place as well.
Andrew quickly replaced the ring on his finger making his stomach to flatten.
"You can try hiding it all you want, we both know our child is still there." Warren's hands disappeared into Andrews's stomach, making him shiver. Was Warren the First actually caressing the baby itself? Andrew whimpered in fear for his child. There was no telling what Warren the First could affect, what changes he could cause the baby.
"Please don't, you could be hurting it."
"Him, hurting him. I would never hurt my baby, my child. He's going to be such a powerful source of evil. King of the Sith, my darkest Darth Vador."
"No, I won't let you. I'm good now, I'm not evil any more and neither will he."
"Do you remember when I gave you this?" Warren the First's hand ghosted over Andrew's hand, over the silver ring on his left finger. "It used to be gold and writings of the power we held together."
Andrew nodded sadly. He couldn't quite get rid of the ring yet. The last true piece of the Warren he used to know. The gold Ring of Power, a ring just like the one in JRR Tokens masterpiece. Instead, he had used the ring as a glamour anchor for hiding his condition. He had glamoured the ring as well, trying to get away from the idea that it was his wedding ring.
He wasn't married to Warren, just bonded, two different things.
And Warren was dead. He wasn't even a ghost. The Warren teasing him, running his fingers over Andrew's flesh was just a mirage of The First.
It wasn't real. It just wasn't real.
In the front of the bus, Willow rested against Kennedy. The spell had left her very drained but she was too buzzed to actually sleep. Kennedy had only recently dropped off into sleep, lulled by the rhythm of the bus.
Willow took out the gold ring strung on a cord around her neck. The spell on it had been easy to remove and her eyes followed the black lines in the elfish script. She knew what the writing said; she had seen the movie 8 times in the theater with Xander. And watched the movies another 30 or so over the course of the last few weeks. There was a serious wear concern on Xander's precious collector edition DVD of "Lord of the Rings." Of course the question was mute now that the DVD was at the bottom of a huge sinkhole.
It was such a Warren thing, being a Sci-Fi geek that he was. She wasn't sure why she hung onto the ring.
A ring of the man she murdered.
And yet, she couldn't get rid of it. She just couldn't seem to give it up.
It kept coming back to her. She thought it was lost in England when she left but it was right there in her kit, next to her picture of Tara.
"With great power comes great responsibility," Willow said to herself, giggling at the quote. Maybe that was why she kept the ring. She was capable of murder, of killing someone, that while guilty, someone she had no right to kill.
Maybe that was why she kept the ring, to remind her to search for redemption.
In the back of the bus there was a loud commotion and Andrew jumped up, clutching his stomach.
"Stop the bus," he shouted, learching through the aisle to the front. A cold wind passed through the cabin as he did.
The bus hadn't even stopped as Andrew hung his head out the door, clutching the railing and started throwing up. His body heaving with the effort.
"Stop, please stop," he moaned, collapsing in the doorway.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Andrew finished stumbling out of the bus and went to his knees onto the ground. The bile burned the back of his throat and stung his nose. He leaned as close to the pavement as he could get and let the scent of loose asphalt burn into his nostrils. It began to gradually overpower the memory of Warren’s aftershave. “Please, please, please…” he continued to whisper, not even sure what he was begging for anymore.
Above him, the potentials finally had something to pique their interest besides the strange clanking noise the bus had picked up about 30 miles back. Windows were dropped and nearly a dozen girls hung out the rectangular openings.
“What’s going on?”
“What’s wrong with Andrew?”
“Oh, yuck! That’s fricking disgusting! He’s harfing!”
“Really? Lemme see…gross!”
Xander rolled his eyes and stood. “Come on, ladies, move it,” he gently pushed his way through the line of bodies leaning over each other to see Andrew throwing up. As he went by Giles, he felt a hand on his wrist. He glanced down at the older man’s inquisitive face. Tired face. Face that looked 20 years older than it had when Xander first met him. He smiled sadly into his surrogate father’s eyes. “I got him,” he nodded. “You stay put. Rest.”
Giles didn’t even argue. He just smiled faintly and leaned back into the seat. That in itself told Xander how exhausted their patriarch was. Xander made his way past the fire exit where Dawn and Buffy were curled up together, light and dark hair meshing together, faces bearing weariness and hope. Willow sat just ahead of them, one hand linked in a chain around her neck and the other linked with Kennedy’s. She looked up at him, a world-weary, mother-earth look he hadn’t seen on her face before. He trailed a hand over her hair as he passed, taking comfort in its warmth and in her responding smile.
Faith was next, having taken over driving the bus when Robin pulled his ‘petite morte’ earlier. She grinned back at the SITs and rolled her eyes as if to say, “kids, what can you do?” Xander grinned back at her and shrugged. “He’s not the only one who feels like shit,” Xander murmured to her. “Next time you see a motel, pull off. We’ve got to get the worst of these injuries looked at and then some food and rest or we’ll all be hanging out of the bus door heaving our guts out.”
Faith nodded. “I’m with ya, Xan.”
He hopped down the steps and made his way to Andrew. The boy was curled up nearly into a ball, rocking and muttering. Xander knelt on the pebbled asphalt next to him and placed a hand on the heaving back. “How you doing, Andrew?” he asked, rubbing circles into the younger man’s shirt. “Want some water?”
Andrew looked up at him, tears streaking his face. “I…he was…I can’t…” his voice broke in a sob and he fell into Xander’s side. Xan was thrown a bit off balance by the extra weight, but he adjusted quickly and carefully placed an arm around the smaller blonde’s shoulder.
“It’s okay, Andrew,” he squeezed. “It’ll be okay. I promise.” Andrew gasped a laugh out. Then another. Then he began to laugh in earnest, his body jerking with the effort. Xander just held on tighter and closed his eye. He couldn’t blame the guy. Looking back on the day, he had to admit that his statement was about the most ludicrous thing he could have said.
“Is he still puking?” called one of the potentials.
Xander looked back to the bus. “Get the hell back inside and shut up!” he snapped. The girl looked startled that mild mannered Xander would say such a thing. However, she pulled back and Xander could hear the sound of windows going up, one at a time. He sighed, wondering if he was ever that young. “They’ve got internal vampire organs in their fricking hair and they’re grossed out by vomit,” he shook his head. “Unbelievable.”
Andrew’s laughter continued, but Xander could hear a bit of the insanity replaced with actual humor. His body didn’t stop shaking, though, and Xander had a brief mental picture of the former Troika shaking completely apart. Andrew buried his face into Xander’s shirt. Xander could feel the tears soaking through the light material even as the laughter rolled out of him.
“I think I’m going insane, Xander,” came a raspy whisper.
Xander wrapped his other arm around the shuddering form. “You’re not going insane, Andy. You’ve had a really shitty day, we all have. You’re dealing with differently than the others is all.” Xander frowned. “I think.” He tugged the blonde away from his chest and stared into his eyes. “You could also have a concussion.” He used his thumb to pull Andrew’s eyelids up and make a thorough inspection of his pupils.
“No, you don’t have a concussion,” he muttered absently, wondering why he never noticed how brightly blue Andrew’s eyes were. Anya’s were green. He felt his gut clench and his hands drifted down off of Andrew’s face. “Come on, Andy,” he stood and pulled the other boy to his feet. “Let’s get you back onto the bus and get you something to wash your mouth out with.”
Andrew wanted to cry again. Xander’s hands on his face were like snuggling into the warm, comfy blankie he’d had as a child. And the intense look Xander had given him made his tummy tingle, a distinct difference from the stomach-churning whirlpool he’d had thinking about Warren. He allowed the dark haired man to lead him back onto the bus. He tried not to make eye contact with anyone as Xander ushered him down past the seat he’d previously occupied and into the seat where Xander had been.
Xander gently pushed Andrew into the seat first and then leaned across him to crack the window for a bit of fresh air. He sat back down and rummaged in his bag, pulling out a bottle of lukewarm water. Shrugging in apology for the temperature, he handed it over. Andrew nodded his thanks and quickly took several drinks, washing the taste of acidic bile from his mouth.
Andrew sank into the seat, leaning up against Xander…wondering if the man was going to push him away now that they were back in the midst of gossiping potentials. He didn’t. He swung an arm around Andrew’s shoulder and allowed Andrew to rest his head on his shoulder.
Andrew knew that Xander would soon realize there were other ways to deal with his own sorrow. Ways that didn’t include comforting evil murderers who bore their dead boyfriend’s baby. He’d find Willow, or Buffy or even Dawn and have a Scooby Hug-and-Cry fest. One where Andrew wasn’t invited. But until then, Xander was his. He buried his face into Xander’s shoulder and let Xander’s scent waft over him in a soothing wash of comfort.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Andrew. Andy, wake up,” Andrew’s eyelashes fluttered against his cheek as he fought consciousness. Xander smirked. Any second now Andrew was going to ask for just five more minutes. And Xander was likely to give those minutes to him just so he could watch him sleep. He looked so innocent. So pure and untouched. He looked nothing like a man who’d killed his best friend, who’d fought ubervamps and bled for the cause.
But then, once upon a time, neither did Xander. He knew he’d lost his innocence somewhere after killing Jesse. After years of fighting assorted demons. After nearly marrying one.
Clench.
But he’d held onto the illusion until Caleb popped it for him, right along with his left eye. You couldn’t really pull off innocent and untouched with a gaping eye socket. Andrew, though...Andrew could pull it off. Andrew made him want to curl around him protectively, wrap him up in cotton and hide him from pain. And Xander had no idea why.
The boy was a first class annoyance. Thank every God and Goddess there was that the video camera from hell was now buried…er, in hell. And the way he tried to engage Xander in comic book talk? Or in sci fi movie comparisons? What the hell was that about? Trying to make him look like a geek in front of the others? Or what about the weird longing looks Andrew kept directing at him? Or the slightly innuendo’d comments?
See? First class annoyance all the way. ~So why did you get off of the bus for him? Why did you let him fall asleep in your arms? ~ Xander squeezed his eye closed for a moment and tried to shut that voice out. That voice that sounded suspiciously like Anya during one of her finding-logic-in-illogical-moments phases.
Clench.
“Come on, Andy, wakey wakey. We’re here,”
“Just five more minutes, mom?” came the moaned reply. Xander couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him.
“Nope, no more minutes, Andrew. Come on, let’s get out of this fricking bus and into the dirty, possibly roach infested hotel room that sounds like heaven right about now.” Andrew blinked rapidly, trying to focus. He glanced out the window and saw the flashing neon sign that read “St rlite otel, No V cancy.”
“But there’s no vacancy,” he mumbled, saying the first thing that cleared his fog clouded mind.
Xander grinned. “That’s cause we’re all staying here,” he said slowly.
“Oh,” Andrew shook the last of the sleep off. “How are we paying for it?”
Xander shrugged. “Willow apparently has moved past the stage of using magic only for the greater good. She’s branching out into electronic robbery. She found a laptop somewhere and mojo’d it. Next thing we know, Giles and I both have six figures in our bank accounts. Plenty to keep the whole group going until we decide what the hell we’re going to do now.
“Oh,” Andrew said again, looking slightly stunned.
Xander took pity on him. “Come on, I’ll explain it all tomorrow. For now, let’s get up to our room. We can take showers and order take out and then spend the next seven or eight days asleep.”
Andrew nodded and began to blindly follow the larger man’s back through the parking lot. “Um, Xander?” a thought occurred to him.
“Mmm?”
“Our room? We have a room together?” he asked hesitantly.
“Yeah, last one. It was either put you in with me or with Giles,” Xander answered absently, holding the door open for the smaller blonde.
“Oh.” He remained quiet for the rest of the walk.
Xander pulled a key card out of his pocket and swiped it through the lock. A moment later the green light came on and Xander pushed open the door. “After you, Mr. Wells,” he smiled. Andrew smiled back shyly and moved into the room. And nearly moved right back out of it.
There was only one bed. Granted, it was a queen size, but it might as well have been a twin for the panic that surged through his body. Xander just glanced at the room, eyeing the bed, the TV, the door to the bathroom, and then he moved to the phone stand. He pulled out the phone book and began diligently searching through the yellow pages.
“Aha!” he grinned up at Andrew. “Dominos. It delivers,” he snickered and picked up the phone. “Why don’t you go ahead and take a shower first. That way, you’ll be here to get the door when the pizza arrives.” Andrew nodded, not really comprehending anything but ‘shower’, ‘door’, and ‘pizza’ and then moved to the bathroom on autopilot. Xander kept the smile on his face until the door shut behind the blonde, then he sank into the chair sitting next to the phone.
“Christ, Anya,” he whispered into his arms. “What the hell are we going to do now?”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Well, we won't be testing out these springs," Anya's voice, clear as day, came drifting over his shoulder.
Xander, in true zeppo fashion, gave a nice girly scream and dropped the phone and phone book while gawking at his dead girlfriend. He was still gawking when Andrew poked his head out and asked if anything was wrong.
Xander looked from Andrew to Anya and back again, realizing that only he could see the dead woman.
"Oh, nothing just saw a cockroach." Xander emphasized his point by stomping on the floor.
Andrew gave only a muffled "oh, ok" before going back into the rest room.
"You know what I'm going to miss most about being alive is having sex." Anya started bouncing on the bed where she sat except that the covers and bed didn't move at all. "I won't miss the fluid and stickiness and all that other human grossness but I'm going to miss making all that gross stuff. Making gross stuff was fun."
"Uh, uh, you're a ghost."
Nod from Anya.
"You're a ghost and you're haunting me and talking about sex."
Another nod from Anya.
"I thought I left hell behind," Xander sighed wearily and picked up the phone and book to resume his order.
"Nope, I'm in my hell. It's a crappy job where I get to drop hints and stuff but not tell you why I'm really here. I can't touch anything and I can't have sex. I can't even help *myself*," Anya demonstrated by passing one arm through another. Proving that she was totally an apparition, even to herself.
"Hello, yes, I'm at the Starlight Motel, room 1013. I'd like a pepperoni pizza with the works."
"Andrew doesn't like pepperoni. He likes Canadian bacon. Oh, and tomatoes."
Xander gave a big sigh. "Make that a Canadian bacon pizza with the works."
"Extra tomatoes. Sun dried if they have them."
"There are tomatoes in the sauce. That's as far as I'm going." Xander stared down his ex-late-girlfriend as he resumed his order, getting 2 orders of cheesy sticks with marinara and a couple of cokes.
"Lots of oregano on the sticks," Anya supplied and Xander relayed. "Dr. Pepper is his favorite."
Xander thrust the phone out to her, "Would you like to order?"
Anya huffed and got up from the bed, wandering around. She listed at the door where Andrew was taking his shower. Xander had finished the order and was leaning against the bed contemplating the black TV and paying her no mind.
Anya looked at the disinterested Xander then at the door separating her from Andrew. Wait... she was a ghost. It was just separating her eyes from seeing. She poked her head right thru the door.
Inside it was slightly steamy and Andrew was talking to someone. If her guess was true, that was the reason as to why she was sent back. She didn't get all of the details when the... council? sent her back.
"Anya, don't do that," Xander said, trying to pull his intangible girlfriend back thru the door.
"Oh, now you're interested in me. Aren't you going to ask me why I'm a ghost?"
"I think it's pretty explanatory. My life sucks," at her withering glare, he continued. "Could it be that you were a demon for 1200 years? You died on the hellmouth? You left unfinished business?"
"Yes, I came to give you a warning. You have to..."
"Anya can we not do this tonight. I'm really tired and really icky. I just want to clean up, get something to eat and forget this day never happened. I really want to talk to you, really I do, just not right now."
"I know. I'm sorry; it's been a long day for me too. How are you holding up? I know we're broken apart but I know you still care for me. I saw you when Andrew told you the news."
"It's hard, really but I knew you would be ok. You always land on your feet. So, you're a ghost now. I thought maybe you'd become another demon or something."
"I didn't get sent to hell, or at least not exactly. I'm kinda in limbo right now. Too evil for heaven, too good for hell. Apparently dying to protect another person, dying a hero puts me in the 'help to earn my wings' category."
"I'm glad for you," Xander said as he tried to pat his ex-late- girlfriend's knee. His hand passed right thru to touch the comforter. "You deserve to have a good afterlife."
"Thanks, Xander." Anya leaned over to rest her head against his shoulder but she fell right thru him. Before either of them could laugh, they could hear the shower stop and Andrew getting ready to come out.
Xander looked at his feet seeing that his girlfriend had already disappeared.
"Uh, Xander, I really don't want to get back into these clothes. There was a laundry room down the hall. I can put our clothes in to wash." Andrew kept his eyes down as he clutched two towels to his body.
Still distracted by Anya's visit and his head tired in fog, he didn't even think about anything as he nodded his head and went into the bathroom. After undressing he handed his clothing out to the waiting Andrew.
It wasn't until he was halfway thru his shower that he wondered about Andrew going to the laundry facilities clothed just in those towels. Of course, when he emerged from the bathroom, he found that he didn't have to worry. Andrew was tangled up toga style in the bed sheet.
The young Troika member just sat there, twiddling a silver ring around his finger. The pizza & sticks forgotten behind him. His face was down turned and he sat so still and Xander could actually feel the weight that Andrew was carrying.
"Pizza's here," Andrew said, barely giving Xander a glance.
"I can see," Xander sat down next to him and reached over to pick up the pizza box. He opened it up, presenting it to the young man. "It's Canadian bacon, your favorite."
Andrew barely gave the pizza a glance, nor did he pay any attention to the cheesy sticks either. Instead he kept tracing something along his hand, like he was remembering something. His breath kept hitching, like he wanted to cry or something but just couldn't quite start.
Xander sat there wondering what to do. He could feel the loss of home, of Sunnydale and Anya sharply. Everything was gone.
"It's hard knowing you can't go home again, isn't it," Xander's voice felt strange in the previous silence. "It's hard to believe that it's all over, that it's all gone."
"It's not all gone, not all over." Andrew's voice just a whisper.
"Don't I know it," Xander said, remembering Anya. "But it was still home, despite all its idiosyncrasies. We just lost everything, it's ok to be sad."
"I know, but I wish everything was over, completely over. I wish it were already several months down the road when it all didn't hurt so much. When it all is ok and turned around. I don't think I can do this, Xander."
Xander reached over, tilting the young boy's face to meet his own. Andrew's eyes were brimming with unshed tears and there was such a look of hopelessness inside them that it was breaking his heart.
"Somebody once told me you have to go thru the hard times to know when the good times are."
"Why?" Petulantly, like a confused child. Tears started trailing down the pale face. Xander brushed his thumb over the tracks, smearing them. Wishing he could really give an answer.
Xander leaned in close, looking into Andrew's blue, blue eyes. He still felt shower damp from where his hand rested on the young man's cheek.
God, he ached, he longed for kisses and intimacy and, well, sex after such a dry spell after braking up with Anya.
And here, on a silver platter was Andrew.
Sweet, innocent Andrew who opened his Pandora's box and found it full of ubervamps. Trusting, curious yet faithful Andrew like some eager puppy seeking his master's approval.
It was entirely natural to close the distance separating them both and press his lips to Andrew's.
Soft, plush, slightly chapped lips. Xander snaked his tongue out, tasting and wetting those lips. A soft whisper of a moan escaped Andrew at the feel, spurring Xander on.
Light touches to warm skin under the toga sheet. God this was turning him on.
Oh Gods! This was turning him on!
Xander backpedaled quickly, muttering excuses to Andrew before running from the room. Leaving Andrew holding a damp towel and a stunned expression on his face.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Xander made a mad dash for the laundry room sure he'd bump into someone. He streaked the motel quickly; hoping the girls wouldn't realize what went past before he was gone.
Of course he was so embarrassed of what happened between him and Andrew that he didn't have the slightest bit of interest in going back for the towel he'd been wearing around his waist.
"Ok, so we're broken up and I'm dead but you don't have to show the whole world my Xander bits, do you?" Anya said from behind Xander, admiring the view. Hey, she may be dead but she was still a woman.
Xander gave a start, and then stared accusingly at his ex-late- girlfriend. "Must you always do that?"
"Do what? Haunt you? Sure I could go and haunt Tom Selick, break his mustache trimmer but you need me here."
"No, I mean always appear behind me. Grew up on a hellmouth here?"
Anya rolled her eyes before replying. "Yes, I do. It's in the rulebook. Right next to civilized people wearing clothes."
Xander blushed, coving himself up and backing away from Anya the Ghost to look around the room. Andrew hadn't left to put them in to the dryer so his clothes were still in one of the washers.
Damn, his clothes were still wet and wet jeans were not comfortable. He looked around, spotting a dryer that was done and stealing a pair of chinos out of them.
"So, Anya. Why are you here?"
Anya scrunched her nose, "I can't tell you that. I can tell you there is unfinished business in Sunnydale."
"Sunnydale is a huge crater."
"Ok, Sunnydale left some unfinished business and it involves Andrew. I can't tell you more. They said I could come back and help I just can't tell you why. Somebody higher up still has an eye on Andrew and big things are going to happen."
"What things? Who is keeping an eye on Andrew?"
"I can't tell you that," Anya said, clearly frustrated. She gave a sad smile and closed the distance between the two. She kissed him, sorta, her face kinda passed into his and she gave a smooching sound but Xander felt nothing. Of course he could remember. He could remember the coconut pineapple scent of her hair, the sharp tang of her lips, the rasp of their skin meeting. It sent a tingled thrill thru Xander. "Just please, watch over him. Take good care of him. He needs you."
Anya smirk back, "And fuck him. I may be dead but you aren't, it's a shame to waste all those interlocking body parts."
And she was gone.
Crap. His ex was now haunting him, encouraging him to start a relationship with the last of the troika members. Sunnydale itself may be gone but the hellmouth hath followed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Later that night, Xander woke to feeling warm and very comfortable.
While Xander was hiding in the laundry room, trying to figure out which had his wet clothes, Andrew had eaten and fallen asleep on the covers. He looked so cute that Xander didn't have the heart, though he didn't have the energy either, to move him. He'd eaten his share and fallen asleep looking at the ceiling.
Sometime in the night, Andrew and himself had shifted to their current position. Still sleeping over the covers, him in stolen chinos and Andrew looking like a Greek boy toy.
Despite that, Xander was very warm and content. He had an Andrew blanket. The young man was laying on his side, pressed against Xander, his body keeping the construction worker warm.
Just like on the bus, he enjoyed watching that innocent face slumber away. Blond lashes quivering as his eyes moved in his sleep, obviously a good dream if the smile was to be judged by.
Xander watched until his own eyelids felt droopy again, knowing he was being pulled back into slumber. Maybe Anya was right; he should still enjoy interlocking body parts while he still had them.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He was so hot. Andrew swiped at the sweat pouring down his face. Why the hell was he so hot? He opened his eyes. Closed them. Squeezed hard and opened them again. Nope. No change.
“Um…what’s going on?” he squeaked. His voice was drowned out by the waves of lava splashing up against the overhang. The stone walls that should have echoed his voice throughout the cavern did no such thing. The fiery depths of Mount Doom seared his skin and sucked away his voice.
“Er…crap?” he felt himself say.
“Mr. Wells!”
Andrew turned abruptly, astonished to find that someone could speak in this hideous heat. “Holy surreal nightmare, Batman,” he attempted to say.
“Throw it in, Mr. Wells,” Elrond called out to him, his braids sticking wetly to his cheeks. The stern expression on his face, as much as was not covered by dark sunglasses, did not match the desperation in his voice. Andrew frowned and Elrond pointed to Andrew’s hand. The Sunnydale boy looked down at the appendage.
Oh. The ring. Warren’s ring.
“Throw it in, Mr. Wells,” the elf repeated.
Andrew shook his head slowly. “I can’t,” he called back, surprised to find that his voice now carried in the noisy expanse.
“You must!”
Andrew shook his head again. “It’s…precious,” he whispered.
Elrond sighed and hung his head. When Andrew looked back, the Rivendale elf had transformed into Jonathon. Andrew felt a pang in his heart. Jonathon, whom he killed. Jonathon, whom he betrayed. Sweet, kind, loyal Jona—
“Fine then, idiot. If you’re determined to remain Warren’s bottom boy for the rest of your life,” the smaller man snapped waspishly.
Andrew bristled. “Warren loved me!”
Jonathon laughed. “Warren used you, Andrew. He used and abused your knowledge, your trust, your body and your love. You have to throw it in before it drags you with it.”
Andrew opened his mouth to argue and felt a disturbing tugging from the ring. It jerked his hand slightly towards the fiery abyss. His eyes widened. The ring tugged harder. He pulled the hand bearing it to his chest and it was almost immediately yanked back. The ring, and with it Andrew, propelled itself to the edge of the precipice.
Horrified, he looked over the edge. There, dancing in the whorls of lava was Warren’s smiling face.
“No!” he screamed. “No! I don’t want to die! Jonathon, help me! You have to help me!” Andrew begged frantically.
Jonathon shook his head sadly. “I can’t, Andrew. I’m not a part of the fellowship,” he called. “I was never a part of the fellowship. The Scoobies never wanted me.” He moved forward, following a screaming Andrew to the very edge of the rock. “But they want you. They took you with them. Take off the ring, Andrew. Take it off and finish this quest.”
Andrew began jerking at the once again golden ring. He pulled and tugged and yanked to no avail. Terrified eyes looked up to Jonathon. “I can’t! It won’t come off!” He panicked. “Jonathon, please! Get this off of me!”
Jonathon turned pitying eyes on his struggling friend and began to shrink. He lost his hair and took on a humpbacked hunch and huge eyes. “Stupid, fat summoner,” he hissed. “You killed us, remember?”
And Andrew screamed as the ring finally pulled him off of the edge.
“No!” he screamed into the quiet room as he sat bolt upright in the bed. He wrapped his arms around himself, his breath heaving in his chest, and he struggled to remember where he was.
Sunnydale…apocalypse…bus...hotel…Xander. Xander. He turned his head to look at the still sleeping brunette and heaved a huge sigh. Xander. He was safe. He leaned his head back, letting the sweat cool on his throat.
Safe. Safe? Gods no, he wasn’t safe! He was…
He managed not to disturb Xander as he threw himself out of bed and bolted for the bathroom. He made it just in time, throwing up his dinner. He hurled until the dry heaves took over and when they dispersed, he just lay against the cool porcelain. He closed his eyes and told himself that the tears in his eyes were from the violent retching he’d just done.
“Well, I’d offer you a washcloth, but I can’t touch anything.”
Andrew jerked back against the bathtub with a shriek.
“Hush!” Anya ordered irritably. “Or you’ll wake up Xander and have to explain why you’re tossing your Canadian bacon pizza and looking like you swallowed a watermelon.”
Andrew looked down automatically and found that the glamour was gone. He held up his hand in a panic and beheld no ring. “Oh, great,” he whispered. “I manage to take it off in this reality, where it couldn’t possibly help.” Then he frowned and looked up at Anya. “You’re dead.”
Anya rolled her eyes. “Wow. Your powers of observation. Let me just compliment you on that.”
“But…what are you doing here?”
Anya sighed. “I am a ghost,” she began for the second time that night. “I was sent by a higher power to guide you safely through your path.”
“And what path is that?” Andrew asked hesitantly. She looked pointedly at his burgeoning belly. He blushed and held his hands over it in a futile attempt at cover. “Oh. Did you know before you died?”
“No,” she shook her head. “For a geeky computer nerd who can’t even manage not to get caught by a rehabilitated witch outside of a butcher’s shop, you managed to hide it pretty well.”
He flushed at the faint praise and then frowned. “So, how are you supposed to guide me?”
“Well,” she said loftily, “it includes a lot of jibber jabber and some legalese terms, a few rude hints about not leading you down the path of vengeance and such, but the gist is this: I’m here to lead you away from the taint of the First and Warren and the way I’m supposed to do that is by bullying you into telling Xander you’re pregnant.”
She smiled proudly and Andrew’s jaw dropped. “A higher power wants you to bully me?”
Anya waved her hand. “Not exactly. But I’m supposed to persuade you. I’m not really good at that. Bullying? That I’m good at. So, you get the benefit of a thousand years of manipulation and bullying.”
Andrew couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. “At least you’re honest.”
Anya frowned. “I was always honest. Even when I was evil. Apparently, that was my problem. I never lied well. But then, I never saw the point in telling untruths. It’s a waste of time and generally leads to more untruths which gets tangled all together and form a horrible ball of lies and then someone drops the ball and everyone runs away blaming everyone else and nothing ever gets solved.”
Another giggle.
She sighed. “Too much with the explaining, hmmm? I always explain too much. The only one who ever understood me was Xander,” she said forlornly.
Andrew nodded. “Xander’s a good listener. He’s a good friend. He never makes you feel stupid. And you always feel better after talking to him.”
“Exactly,” Anya returned. “He is a good listener. And he’s a good boyfriend too. He knows what it’s like to feel stupid. He knows how it hurts. And he always knows just what to say to make you believe in yourself again.” Andrew smiled and nodded in agreement and Anya grinned craftily. “So tell him your story already and let him work his mojo on you.”
Andrew shook his head frantically. “I couldn’t. It’s…it’s too much. Too much too soon.”
Anya shot him a disgusted look and leaned against the door…and kept going. A moment later, she reappeared through the door looking flustered and embarrassed. “Not really used to this whole non-corporeal thingy yet,” she muttered.
“I understand,” Andrew said with a smile. “I think you’re doing really well.”
Anya looked hopeful. “Really?”
He nodded. “Absolutely. I mean, you haven’t fallen through the floor yet!”
Anya perked up and nodded back. “That’s right. I guess I am better at this than I thought!” She waved a hand in Andrew’s direction. “See? You should be with Xander. You two have a lot in common.”
Andrew choked slightly. “You said I was supposed to tell Xander the truth. Now I’m supposed to be with him too? What exactly are you trying to say?”
Anya frowned irritably. “I can’t really tell you. You just need to know that you need help.”
A humorless laugh escaped his throat. “I know I need help, Anya. I didn’t need a ghost to tell me that.”
“No,” she replied slowly. “You may need help now; but you’re really going to need help very soon. The kind of help that you can trust with your life. With the life of your baby.” Andrew once again held his hands protectively over the baby. “The First…Warren…is nothing to laugh at or ignore, Andrew. He’s real. He’s here. He wants your baby. I can’t tell you why. I can’t tell you how. I can only provide you with certain tools to protect yourself. The most powerful of those tools is Xander.”
“How is he supposed to protect me from something that happened over a year ago?” Andrew bit out angrily, tears stinging his eyes. “For God’s sake, Anya. I’m a male. I’m pregnant and I have been for nearly a year. I’m bonded to a dead man whose spiritual body has been taken over by the First. How is Xander supposed to protect me from something like that?”
Anya glared. “I hope you’re not saying that he can’t help you because he doesn’t have superpowers like Buffy or Wicca powers like Willow?”
Andrew looked honestly confused. “What would that matter?”
Anya glared at him huffily. “Well he always felt that the others thought less of him because he wasn’t big with the powers. I just thought that if you thought that…”
“Anya,” Andrew says softly, “I did this to myself. I screwed up. And I did it a long time ago. Xander can’t fix it cause no one can fix it.”
“But he can help you deal with the consequences,” Anya replied.
Andrew smiled. “Yeah, he is extraordinary.”
Anya grinned back. “And a Viking in the sack.”
A dark red, full body blush was Andrew’s answer. “Um, yeah. Anyway, he could…but he won’t cause I’m not telling him.”
Anya glared. “Fine. Then I will.”
Andrew just rolled his eyes. “Lame counter move, spectral female. If you could have told him by now, you would have.” Anya looked sulky. “In fact, I bet you went to him first and told him to ask me didn’t you?” Andrew demanded angrily.
Anya scuffed patterns over the linoleum floor with her ethereal foot. “Maybe,” she said, tossing her hair.
“Maybe? I say yes! Hey!” Andrew looked as though he’d had an epiphany. “You’re the cockroach!”
An offended expression crossed Anya’s face. “I beg your pardon?”
“The cockroach. On the bed. The one that Xander said was in the bedroom to cover up the fact that he was talking to nothing!” Andrew put two and two together.
“Oh, yes,” Anya blushed. “You are correct. He did imply all that the silly screaming he did was due to seeing an insect.” She looked thoughtful. “And he does dislike cockroaches. He buys that nasty, smelly spray that…”
“So, um…I’m kinda tired,” Andrew interrupted. “Can I go back to bed?”
Anya wiggled her eyebrows. “Can I watch?”
Andrew looked confused. “Watch wha—Oh, by Kahless's bat’leth, no! There will be no watching…of me…or me and Xander. Not that there is a me and Xander, but if there were…which there won’t be…there would be no watching of the…er, of them…or er, uh…me!”
Anya sighed. “Fine. I get it. No watching the sexy, sweaty, naked men having sexy, sweaty, naked orgasms together.” She continued in a mutter, “Spoilsport. I’m dead. Gotta get my jollies vicariously you know.”
Andrew moved to the door…and stopped. Anya floated right through him. He shivered as her form caused icy fingers to move through his body. She continued through the door and a moment later stuck her head back through. “Sorry. Why’d you stop?”
“I…my ring. It’s still in there somewhere. With Xander.” he pointed out.
Anya nodded. “It’s on the bed. I just saw it.”
Andrew smiled and sighed. “Well, that’s relief. I was afraid Xander might see me like…well, like this.” He cracked the door open and tiptoed through it. He peered at the flowered bedspread, on pillow and all around the bed.
“Anya,” he whispered. “I don’t see it.”
“Oh,” she grinned cheekily. “Did I forget to mention that Xander rolled over on top of it?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Yes! You forgot to mention that part!" he said frantically.
"Hum…whatever will you do to find it?" Anya began tapping the area where her chin was with her finger--no small feat as her index finger plunged repeatedly into the jaw. Andrew dipped closer to Xander, trailing his eyes up and down the sides of his body where his skin met the sheets. "It's not there. I told you, he's on TOP of it, not next to it."
"Will you please leave?" Andrew spat with a vehement whisper. On the bed, Xander made a soft snuffing sound and shifted slightly. The blond boy held his breath until Xander's breathing returned to normal. He glanced at his spectral guest. Anya had her arms wrapped around the general area of her body, her back to him. She was running her hands up and down her back making kissing sounds.
"Andrew and Xander sitting in a--"
"Go!" Andrew begged. "Just please, please…I can't. Not right now. It's too…I'm too…." Close to tears, he sank onto the bed. "Please just leave."
Anya's hands dropped and she turned around. "Fine. But I've heard that humor is known to alleviate stress in 48.9% of documented male pregnancies. Perhaps you're a statistical anomaly. One in which humor doesn't--right." She stopped as Andrew tried hard to glare at her. "All right. I'll leave--for now. Just tell him, Andrew. We're counting on you."
She was gone in a blink and Andrew was left wondering exactly who she meant when she said "we."
He ran one hand over his protruding belly. He had to find the ring. Gently he crawled across the bed until he was right next to Xander. The one-eyed man was sprawled on his back. He could try slipping a hand under him and hope that he didn't wake up, but he didn't know where to slip. The ring could be under his shoulders or under his butt and even though he was wearing pants--and where did he GET those pants? Did they all go shopping without him?--the thought of putting his hand right under Xander's butt was enough to chill him to the bone. Xander would be so mad. Okay, maybe not mad. Probably not. Actually, the thought of putting his hand on Xander's ass was making his belly all ticklish.
Suddenly, Andrew doubled over. He pulled quickly at the twined fabric covering his belly to see a small ripple in the lightly-haired surface of his skin. Junior had kicked. A breath he almost didn't know he'd been holding was released and he caressed the bulge again. He kicked. He hadn't kicked before. Not until now.
Smiling, Andrew facing Xander but not touching. He was trying to figure out how to best go about retrieving the ring and desperately wishing that he could tell Xander, someone, anyone about the baby kicking. As if sensing Andrew's concern, Xander suddenly rolled to his side, away from Andrew. Andrew quickly shot his arm out so that he could feel the area where Xander's body had been. Then, to Andrew's surprise, Xander rolled back until he was face to face with Andrew. Now he had a whole new problem. One arm was pinned to the bed by Xander's warm body.
Xander's body. The body giving off comforting heat right next to his own bulging belly. He moved his arm as best he could, searching for the ring. Xander rolled further onto him, nuzzling into the smooth skin of Andrew's neck.
Andrew was in heaven. Andrew was in hell. Andrew was in a tremendous amount of blinding panic. Xander could just reach over with one finger and feel his belly. Or open his eyes…like he was doing now…He held his breath and Xander's eyes fluttered, then sunk down. Just as Andrew was about to release his breath, he felt hot lips on his throat.
Xander began kissing him. He was kissing and rubbing his lips into the tender skin of his neck and Andrew's belly gave another jump, followed by a kick. Holy rusted sheet metal, Batman! He had to find the ring. The trapped hand flopped uselessly, rubbing at an area of the sheet only a foot in diameter. He'd have to use his other--his other--
He felt Xander growing hard, his body grinding slowing against Andrew's form. The dark-haired man was panting softy and Andrew thought he'd never heard anything so beautiful in his life. That's why he had to find the ring. He just had to. He couldn't show Xander. Not yet. Not ever maybe.
Slowly, he reached across Xander's body to search the exposed sheet with his free hand. Doing so effectively pulled Xander into his arms. Andrew felt him grinding harder, the light kisses to his neck turning rough. Any moment now, Xander would come fully awake and realize that there was a huge lump in a place where boys usually did not grow huge lumps.
Andrew frantically ran his hand over the sheet. It had to be here. It just had to. Xander's hand came to rest on his hip and Andrew gave an involuntary "eep!" as he hunted. If he could just get the ring on…if he could just do that, then maybe he could think about other things. Could think about the kiss he and Xander had shared earlier, though he knew his ultimate conclusion would be just the same. Xander had needed a bit of comfort and was looking for it where ever he could find it. If he could get the ring on, he could even begin to enjoy the kissing, grinding, panting body that was looking for more of that comfort and he might even give it to him--just a little--if he could only find the ring and--
Xander's soft panting turned harder and as accompanied by soft cries. Andrew could feel Xander's hot breath on his neck and he wanted to bring his face down, to kiss him and make the almost desperate cries find satisfaction but he had to look, he had to find the ring, because Xander couldn't know, and they couldn't--
Yes! Andrew's hands curled over the small circle just as he heard a word slip from Xander's mouth.
"…Anya…"
Andrew snapped back, shoving his ring on his finger as fast as he could.
Xander blinked hard, looking around him confused. He cleared his throat roughly.
"Wha--What time…time is it?" Xander scrubbed at his face and rolled away, lying on his back.
Andrew tried to conceal his erection by slipping beneath the covers, his ring firmly in place.
"It's late. Go back to sleep," he said quietly. He twirled the ring on his finger. "It's too late."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was early afternoon when Xander finally stirred, an insistent knocking breaking him away from a deep sleep he had hoped he'd never wake from. Beside him, Andrew lay curled tightly into a ball. He was almost hanging off the side of the bed, as far away from Xander as someone could possibly get. He tried to tell himself that it was just because Andrew had drifted to that side of the bed during his sleep, but he couldn't help remember how he'd run out last night. How he'd just left him alone.
Scrubbing the sleep from his eyes, he staggered to the door and opened it.
"Good morning, Xander!" Willow said brightly. "Or afternoon, really. Are these yours?" Xander glanced at the bundle in her arms.
"Yeah," he grinned. "Almost forgot. Thanks for bringing our clothes."
Willow looked past him into the room, made dark with drawn drapes over the one window. "Did you guys wanna get up and join the super- human race or…?"
Xander glanced back at Andrew's sleeping form. He stepped closer to Willow, pulling the door half-shut behind him. "I think we should let Andrew sleep. I don't think he feels that well--Sunnydale aside."
The redhead nodded. "Kinda caught that yesterday. And the girls mentioned it this morning. Repeatedly. Kinda gross, actually."
"How are you doing?"
"Holding up." The light in her eyes betrayed something else. "Good, actually. Great." Xander said nothing, waiting for his best friend to continue. "I did it, Xander," she whispered. "And no Evil- Worldkiller. I did it. I think it's just hitting me now. I touched the infinite and I didn't hurt anyone. It's just…" Unable to explain, she looked at Xander who nodded slowly.
"I got it, Wills. My big Wicca Wonderwoman." He hugged her hard and left a kiss on her forehead. When they parted, his chest was shiny.
"You better put some clothes on so I can cry on your shirt for real." Willow handed over the pile and Xander took it. "We're meeting at the diner over there," she gestured toward a small glass building, "in fifteen minutes. Eat, talk, figure out where we go from here." Xander nodded and sorted through the pile for his shirts. She turned to leave, then turned back. "Andrew should be part of it. Are you sure he's too sick to come?"
"I don't know. I'll check with him. Promise."
Willow nodded again, then made her way toward the diner. Xander slipped on his shirt and traded the stolen pants for his own, mentally figuring how he could slip them back into the laundry room without anyone noticing. When he was dressed, he knelt beside Andrew's side of the bed, just staring at the soft, innocent face. He'd heard Andrew get up sometime during the night, probably to throw up again.
Andrew's mouth was open and he was breathing heavily, his arms wrapped protectively over his chest. Make that stomach, Xander corrected himself. Maybe he had a stomachache. Andrew shifted and turned toward Xander. Too late, Xander realize that there was no more bed for Andrew to shift on and the blond boy went tumbling over the edge. Xander heard his panicked outcry before he caught him.
"Anya!" Strong arms wrapped around Andrew, quieting his sweaty, gasping body. "Is she…where's the…" He was wringing his hands together, breathing hard.
"Having a bad dream?" Xander rubbed a damp piece of hair off of Andrew's forehead.
"Yeah, I…yeah." Andrew's breathing slowed gradually and he tried to sit up, but Xander held him tightly on the cheap motel carpet until his breathing was regular again. "It was just…Anya and this…it doesn't matter."
"Anya dreams. I get those a lot." Realize what he was saying and what odd implications his words had, he let his hands slip from Andrew. "If you're feeling up to it, everyone is meeting across the street. Do you want pancakes?" Xander gave a tempting grin and was gratified when Andrew matched it.
"Okay. Um, can I get dressed first?"
Xander realized that Andrew was still wearing his pseudo-toga and nothing else. As a matter of fact, his hand was only inches away from Andrew's belly button. He could just reach out and stick his finger in like he used to do with Wills when she was six and she told him that she'd like to live life as the Pillsbury Dough Boy because--
"Stop!" Andrew slapped at his hand, the hand he hadn't quite realized was inching toward the small dip in Andrew's navel.
"Okay. Sorry, I didn't mean to--I wasn't going to--" Xander stood up quickly, red with embarrassment. He scrambled to find Andrew's clothes--still stained from Anya's blood. He dropped them quickly on Andrew's side of the bed, not looking at Andrew. "If you wanna come over to the diner you can. You don't have to or anything. It's totally your choice. I'm," he licked his lips, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to touch you. Or kiss you last night. I mean, I did want to, but not if you didn't want to. Mr. Crossing-the-Line Guy here, apologizing. Um, I should go 'cause Willow's waiting and stuff."
"Xander…"
"Huh? What?"
Even though it was nearly noon, Andrew looked exhausted. Bone tired and limp with weariness. Xander noticed for the first time dark circles under his eyes.
"Just wait for me, okay? I wanna get dressed."
Xander sat down heavily on the bed and waited while Andrew went slowly into the small bathroom and changed clothes, returning a few minutes later noticeably happier and more refreshed. Xander tried not to notice the fact that Andrew hadn't said a word about the kiss they'd shared the night before.
"Ready for pancakes?" Andrew asked, crossing to the door.
Xander followed him out, guilt and confusion warring in his head. Between what Anya had said and his own observations this morning, Xander was becoming sure that there was something going on besides the post-traumatic stress of Sunnydale. One thing was for sure; Anya had asked him to protect Andrew and protect him he would.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Everyone was crowded into three booths in the corner of the diner. Sun was shining through the big windows that lined the wall and there was a sense of quiet happiness coming from the SIT's… well, not in-training anymore, Andrew guessed. `Full blown Slayers. I'm glad we're not trying to get rid of the Slayer anymore because there a lot of them now… and there isn't a "we" anymore.'
Andrew hitched in a breath and his feet stumbled just a little at that thought. Everything was gone. The lair, the computers, all the super villain stuff, and the Farscape DVD's he had bought just before everything went crazy and never got to watch and his hidden collection of porn magazines that wasn't all that hidden from the guys and the really hidden really secret collection of magazines that was really only one but it was filled with beautiful men and he knew that even Warren would laugh at him if he saw it and… Warren.
Warren was sitting in a booth behind Giles and Willow. Just sitting and watching. He turned his head and smiled at Andrew. Winking just once, like he used to. Like when Jonathan had done something really nerdy and Warren would turn and wink at Andrew and they had a little secret. His feet were frozen now. They still had a little secret, didn't they? His hand to his stomach, feeling the flatness that the glamour provided but knowing, sensing the roundness underneath. He couldn't breathe.
"Hey. Hey, Andrew? You okay, buddy?"
His eyes flicked over to Xander who was a few steps ahead of him but must have stopped to wait for him. Stopped to let him catch up. And he wondered if there was some sort of meaning to that, but he couldn't keep that thought in his head while Warren… He looked back at the table where Warren, `not Warren, the first, gotta remember that' had been sitting and saw Anya. She was alone at the table and the sun was shining on her hair and she smiled at him. It was so much warmer than Warren's smile. No little wink, no secrets, just an honest, open friendly smile.
She shook her head, still smiling, and pointed to Xander. Xander, who was still looking at him and waiting for an answer, his hand half-reaching for Andrew.
"Y-y-yeah. I'm good. I just-just tripped. A little. But-yeah, I'm okay. Pancakes now?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
They found seats at the table Giles was at and ordered, pancakes and hot chocolate for Andrew, one of those huge combos for Xander. And coffee, lots and lots of coffee. Xander felt like he could crawl into bed and sleep for a week. Even the not-quite-comfortable bed at the motel. Snuggle up with Andrew and sleep forever. `Wait! No snuggling!' He snuck a glance at Andrew and remembered how close to the edge the blond had been earlier… `As far away from me as he could get. You are a moron, Xander.'
His internal babbling was cut short by Giles clearing throat to get everyone's attention. The Watcher looked around; they were the only group on this side of the restaurant and he looked somewhat relieved.
"I know this has been a trying time, but there are decisions we have to make, and we must act quickly." Giles took a sip of his tea and looked at his rag-tag group. So young, so incredibly young.
"There is a Hellmouth in Cleveland and I think that is the most logical place for us to relocate, but there are several other things that need to be attended to. Willow, is there anyway for you to locate new Slayers?
The red-head thought about it for a minute and then nodded. "Sure! If I alter the Cunningham locator spell that I used—"
"Wonderful, wonderful." Giles interrupted what he knew would be a long explanation. Willow's tinkering with spells still worried him, but she had proven herself more than capable lately. He continued laying out the plan.
"I'd like for Buffy and four or five more Slayers to start seeking out the newly activated girls." He held up a hand at Buffy's protest. "I really think they need to be approached by Slayer's, the old way of doing things is gone, it's time to correct a few things. Stuffy old men are not best for this job, not with other Slayers around."
There were a few smiles and Buffy nodded slowly, clearly not thrilled but still willing to follow her Watcher's lead. `Thank god.' Giles thought.
"Speaking of stuffy old men, we are going to need the Watcher's resources. Some information was stored in computers and may still be accessible." He glanced at Willow and she nodded. "The rest will need to be replaced the hard way. We'll need to find any Watchers that may still be alive and… convince them to pool their resources with ours."
Xander snorted. "Yeah, `convince' them. How're we gonna do that?"
"The question is more, `how are *you* going to do that."
"Me? You-you can't send me! I'm not—you can't!"
Andrew was sinking lower in his seat. His lower back was really bothering him and he didn't feel so good. It must be the pancakes. It had to be. It couldn't have anything to do with the conversation going on around him. He should have been ready for this. For everyone to leave. It wasn't like he was their guest-age—hostage anymore. `What am I going to do?' Andrew was starting to panic; he really hadn't planned on this. He kinda thought he was going to be in Sunnydale when he had this baby, thought he would be able to sneak through Giles' books and find out exactly *how* he was supposed to have this baby.
Xander was busy arguing with Giles so it took him a minute to realize what he was feeling. Andrew's arm was pressed against his shoulder because they had squeezed in two extra seats at the table. It wasn't bothering him or anything, it was just… shaking, Andrew was shaking so hard he could feel it. He nudged the smaller man.
"Andrew? Hey Drew? What's--?" He was going to say `what's wrong' but the blond looked up quickly and had that kicked puppy look.
"Xander, please. Could you pay attention for a moment?" Giles wasn't happy from the sound of it. His stuffy-British-voice was coming out. Luckily Xander had lots of practice dodging him.
"I am paying attention! I was just asking… just asking what my partner thinks." He smiled his most charming, or most goofy depending on who you asked, smile at the older man and threw his arm around Andrew. "Isn't that right, partner?"
Buffy started to say something and Xander knew it wasn't going to be nice. He didn't particularly want to hear anything not nice today. "Hey, Slayer numero uno, chill. He can drive and work the mojo if I need any. It'll be perfect."
Andrew couldn't believe what he was hearing. Partners? Xander sticking up for him? Oh shit, he was gonna cry. `Hormones, it's got to be the hormones.' He stood up and smiled weakly at Xander without meeting his eyes.
"Yeah, okay, whatever you think Xander. I mean partner." Then he
left as quickly as he could, not looking back.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Xander made to get up but Willow put a restraining hand on him. " I think you should give him some room. He's kinda tired and his aura is all wonky."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Andrew sat on the bed, pulling his shirt up to feel his flat tummy. How can he recruit old watchers? Would one of them be able to see thru his glamor? Would one of them be able to tell what kind of monster his child was?
No, scratch that. His child wouldn't be a monster. Both parents were human and it wouldn't grow up with evil and hatred in it's heart like Warren had. Of course, wandering around looking for Watchers and stuff, what kind of life would that be for his child? What kind of father could he be to his child? Xander would be a good dad. He'd take little junior out for pony rides and could really get marry go rounds going. He'd be able to make a really cool tree-house with a ladder and slide and everything.
Andrew took off the ring and watched the glamor fade. He let his imagination wander as he felt the round swelling of his belly. Xander, partner, yeah, it had a nice ring to it. Xander would come home in his business suit, unloosen his tie, trip over the ottoman and somersault back to his feet. Andrew would be there to kiss Xander with an apron that wasn't stained with spaghetti sauce and little Richie would run in laughing at his dad with a baseball mitt ready to play catch.
The baby kicked and Andrew was caught up in the awe of being pregnant. He really wished that he'd never put on the glamor, that he could have enjoyed this miracle but after Willow, Warren the First had felt that it was best that he didn't reveal his condition. Andrew was too scared and confused to argue. And when Jonathan and him had come back to Sunnydale, there had never been a question. It was way too dangerous and way too risky to take off the glamor.
His stomach rippled, an intense pain that had him curling his toes and hanging onto the bed for all he was worth. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, OOOWWW!"
OK, that was painful.
"Andy, you have to get out of here," Warren said. He was kneeling in front of Andrew, his hands on the baby as it moved under the skin. "I have some people in LA, they'll be able to help you. But you have to go now, baby."
"I can tell Xander, they'll be able to help me."
"No, they won't. I'm just looking out for you. They'll kill you AND the baby. Please, I need you to go now," Warren the First said with such pain and longing in his voice. "I know you think I'm The First, that The First is just using me to get to you but what if that's wrong. I'm using The First to get to you. I didn't know the spell would do this, that this would happen but by the god makarov I'm trying to get you thru this."
Doubt crowded Andrew's eyes. Could it really be his Warren, his Warren coming back to help and protect him?
"Warren?"
"Yes, it's really me. I'm really here, trying to protect my boyfriend and our child. Please, you need to go to LA. There's plenty of cars here, just hot wire one."
Andrew nodded, grabbing some cash out of Xander's wallet he left on the nightstand. He wanted to leave a note but Warren was adamant that he had to leave. Oh well, he'd call from LA. Following Warren's directions, Andrew found a car and pried off the steering column.
"No, not like that. Use the red and green wire. Twist them together." Andrew tried to follow Warren's directions but ended up shocking himself. "Gods, you're useless."
Andrew sucked on his burned fingers, ready to cry.
"Now don't start crying!" Warren ordered the young man. "They're going to come and kill you, all you need to do is get the hell out of here. Think, man, think. Get the car started, get the hell out of here and then we'll have time for water works."
"You never used to be so mean," Andrew pouted.
"Yes I did. And I'll make it up to you later, like I always did, just get the car started already. Concentrate!"
"Oh, you remember the time I opened up the computer because it was making that funny sound? I used WD-40 on the gears so it wouldn't grind all the time. You were mad at me for opening up the case and letting out the magic fairies? And I summoned them back and the computer worked just fine?"
Warren the First threw back his head and laughed deeply. He had forgotten about that incident. He'd never figured out how those fairies got the computer working again but it did work.
Andrew grinned and started whistling a series of complex notes. It was almost a tune but not quite. Over the hood, the sunlight sparkled mysteriously and the engine roared to life.
"See, baby, I knew you could do it."
"Just where do you think you're going?" Kennedy pulled the car door open and grabbed Andrew's arm in a painful grip. Warren cursed, he had been so close to getting Andrew out of there.
Several people were coming out of the dinner behind Kennedy, including one pissed off ghost.
"What did you think you were doing? You know you can't listen to that thing," Anya yelled at Andrew.
"I just..."
"Stay out of this, Peroxide Queen," Warren interrupted. "Andrew doesn't have anything to do with you."
"Yes, he does. I actually have his best interest in mind."
"Come on," Warren the First said, getting into a fighting stance. His fists up and ready to punch Anya.
"Come on and do what? We're ghosts." Anya reached out and waved her hands into Warren's face like she was slapping him. "Incorporeal and all. What are we going to do, bounce light particles off each other until the sun gets tired?"
"He's mine," Warren hissed.
"No, he's not. You're dead. He's Xander's now, if he could just get his head out of his ass," Anya said firmly.
"Thank you for that vote of confidence, Ahn." Xander took Andrew's arm away from the Slayer Jr.
"What the hell is going on here?" Buffy asked, really perturbed at seeing Warren and Anya being all ghosty.
"Apparently The First doesn't understand that he's a looser," Xander made the shape of an L on his forehead. "Loo-ser."
"You think that you won? The battle is far from over," and with that, Warren popped out.
"And you, are you a part of The First too?" Buffy asked Anya.
"Nope, completely, 100% ghost. Total spook. I have unfinished business to take care of but they're not listening!" Anya said directly into Xander's face.
"I got the message, Ahn. And I'll take care of it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to talk to my partner here."
Back in the motel room, Xander turned to Andrew who was looking at anything but him.
"Would you mind telling me why you were going to run off without telling me?"
Andrew bit his lip, wanting to talk to Xander but afraid to. "I need to go to LA."
"So, we'll go to LA. No need to resort to grand larceny. Is this about what happened earlier? Look, Andrew..."
"Why'd you kiss me?" Andrew interrupted, anxious to understand what was happening between them.
"Golden curls..." Xander said to himself as his thumb brushed across Andrew's face.
"Huh?"
Xander looked at Andrew with his sad, tired eyes. He wished that he could lean over and kiss them closed, feel those long lashes against his sensitive lips. Then take him to bed and hold him until he fell asleep, making sure that Andrew slept. But he couldn't. Not yet. He had to fix things.
"You're not the first boy I've kissed." Xander smiled at the surprise on Andrew's face. He let himself get caught up in the memory of the guy with the golden curls. It was a memory that he'd shared with no one. Something that he thought he'd purposely forgotten... like he ever could.
"When I was dating Cordy, we'd go to these parties. One time we were out in the desert, built a huge bond fire and played music so loud you couldn't help but dance. See, Cordy was off being her and I was drinking with this group. We had this game going, you see. We'd take some of this sweet wine or something and kiss someone, transfer it to their mouth. I kissed a lot of girls that way. Great practice for french kissing. Well, I was a little drunk and saw this someone with golden curls. I took a big swallow, grabbed them and kissed. Didn't realize it was a guy until I did. I guess I was too drunk to care... no, no. I didn't care, I just wanted to see what kissing a guy was like."
Xander closed his eyes briefly, relishing the memory. He could recall with perfect clarity the taste, the feel of the other guy in his arms. The taste of lips, the sweet wine, the feel of golden curls in his fingers, the warmth of his body. The surprised eyes when the kiss ended. The blush that crept over the boy's face as he touched his lips. Xander never talked about it with him but the other guy always blushed whenever Xander saw him.
"I know I kissed Cordy, I know I kissed Anya, I know I kissed a lot of girls but I can't remember a single, solitary kiss. They just kind of run together in my mind. But when I kissed him, I remember that kiss in perfect clarity, just like I remember our earlier kiss. I remember how you felt against me," Xander moved closer, pressing his body against Andrew. "I remember how my arms felt around you," words followed action. "I remember how you tasted," Xander pressed his lips against Andrews, keeping it light.
"But you don't really want me," Andrew tried to push Xander away. If he could just convince Xander to let him go he could go to LA and everything would be OK.
"Yes I do." Slow brush of lips, "I want to hear you talk about how the Temporal Cold War is screwing up Enterprise. I want to hear you talk about how my crown molding looks so good. I want to stay up till midnight with you to listen to the Dr. Demento show. I can fight this, I can ignore it but it doesn't make much sense. And I know you feel the same way," Xander brushed his lips against Andrew's again, feeling that soft mouth open under his. Soft passes of tongues against each other and Xander couldn't help thinking that for a geek, Andrew really knew how to kiss.
"Look, Andrew, I know something is going on. You can trust me."
"I know I can trust you, I just can't trust myself. Everything can go terribly wrong and I don't want it to. I want this, Xander, I want it so bad that I'm even willing to listen to Warren again if it could just mean, if I could just have it all." Andrew nervously twisted the ring on his finger. "I don't want it to mean that I'm still evil, I'm good now. If it turns out evil, that means that what we had was evil and I don't want that. I've had to give up everything to be good. I've lost it all, I've lost *him* but I can't loose it. It's all I have left."
"You are good, Andrew. You've proven that. Warren used you, manipulated you and The First did too. They were evil, not you. You just got a little lost. I won't let that happen to you again. I'll keep an eye out for you, I'll make sure nobody uses you again."
Andrew popped up from the bed, wringing his hands in earnest now. He paced back and forth, unable to stay still. The ring on his finger being twisted constantly now. "You still don't understand. Warren wasn't evil, well, not completely evil. He loves, er, loved me and I loved him. You have to understand that before you can... whoa..." Andrew sat on the bed quickly, the room spinning a little as his stomach rippled. He checked his ring, making sure the glamor was still up but he could still feel the ripple in his stomach, just like the ripple he felt earlier. He gripped Xander's arm that was around him, making sure he didn't fall on his face. His other hand grabbed the bed, nearly ripping it as he felt the pain wash over him.
"OK, that's not good..."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Xander grabbed Andrew’s other arm, the one not currently grasping at the bedclothes, and helped to lower him onto the bedcover. “Andrew?” he asked, noting the shakiness in his own voice. “Andy, what’s wrong?”
Andrew just curled into a small ball and shook his head against the pillow. “I’m fine,” he gasped, arms wrapped around his stomach. “Just…I think the pancakes are repeating on me. I’ll be fine.” Xander didn’t believe him as far as he could pick him up and throw him, but nor could he force the truth out of the blonde. The lack of eye contact and the flinching away from Xander’s hands told him that much.
Xander bit his lip, desperate to help somehow. “Hang on, Andy,” he trotted to the bathroom and wet a house issue washcloth in cool water. Coming back to the bed, he could see Andrew’s eyes squeezed shut and his mouth working. Unfortunately, as soon as Andrew heard Xander’s footsteps coming back, he stopped the words before Xander had a chance to decipher them.
Xander gently laid the cloth over Andrew’s forehead, letting his hand trail down Andrew’s cheek before pulling it away. “Andrew, you know you can tell me anything, right?” he whispered.
Andrew gazed up at him, pain glazing his eyes, and grimaced. “Yeah, sure Xander,” he returned just as quietly. “Anything. I’m just gonna rest now, okay?”
Xander pressed his lips together to keep from…well, from something. Screaming? Crying? Begging? Castigating Andrew for not realizing how many people cared about him and wanted to help him? Flinging himself on Andrew’s mercy and telling him Xander was starting to have more-than-friend feelings for him? Xander sighed. Yeah, from something.
“Okay, Andy,” he said instead. “Just call if you need me. I’ll be, um…I’ll be…” he suddenly drew a blank. Where would he be? Why would he be anywhere but with Andrew? Okay, that was it. He was staying right here—
“You’ll be with Willow or Giles?” Andrew filled in for him. Xander flinched and nodded.
“Yeah,” he sighed. “I’ll be with Willow or Giles. I’ll check on you in about an hour, all right?” Andrew nodded and pulled the cloth down over his eyes, effectively dismissing Xander. Xander took one last longing look at the too-small figure on the bed and tugged the door behind him. He left it open with the intent to leave Willow’s room open as well. He was damn well going to hear if Andrew needed him. Sighing in frustration, he headed off down the hallway.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Hey.”
Andrew shoved the rag up onto his forehead at the change in voice. Anya smiled down at him from her perch on/in the bed. He smiled weakly at her. “Hey,” he returned softly.
“You look like crap, Andrew,” she offered.
Andrew winced. “Gee, thanks.”
Anya rolled her eyes and reached out to take Andrew’s hand. She frowned slightly as her own hand passed through his, but he just smiled and curled his fingers around the vision of hers. His eyes grew brighter with unshed tears. “Christ, Anya,” he whispered. “I’m so scared.” The tears began to well up, falling over his lashes to trace a silvery trail down baby smooth cheeks.
“Oh, Andrew,” Anya’s eyes held him where her hands could not.
“I’m terrified,” he continued, sniffing slightly. “I’m scared of how I feel about Xander. I’m scared that he’ll never feel the same way about me. I’m completely freaked out about what I’m supposed to do to help him find these Watcher guys,” he rolled his eyes slightly. “I can’t talk to Giles. How am I supposed to help with any convincing that needs to be done to some really old, smart men who’ve never seen Xena before. They’ll eat me alive.”
“You just let Xander figure that out,” Anya said firmly. “He’s pretty convincing. All you have to do is stand behind him and give him support.”
Andrew gave a sobbing snort. “Give him support. How the hell am I supposed to do that? I can’t even support myself! I can’t even make it to LA without getting caught.” Anya glared down at him.
“Well, I’ve got to say that going to LA was damn stupid in the first place, so I really can’t feel too bad that you got caught. What the hell were you thinking?” she demanded.
Andrew drove his face into the pillow. “Warren told me there was someone who would help me there.” He lay in silence for long moments and then gave a rather desperate laugh, turning his face to look up at her. “Wow. You’re right. I am insane, Anya. I was taking orders from the First again, wasn’t I?”
Anya sighed and absently began stroking through Andrew’s wrist. “Yes. But no. It’s hard to explain,” she concluded, knowing that she wasn’t giving the boy anything he needed. She stared at him beseechingly. “He’s dangerous for you, Andrew. First or not, he’s dangerous to you and the baby.”
Andrew stared at her, blue eyes begging for help. “I’m scared, Anya. I’m scared that Warren is evil. That he’s trying to hurt me. That he’s trying to hurt the baby. I’m scared that the baby will be evil. That somehow, Warren or the First will taint it. I’m scared cause I can’t take care of myself. How am I supposed to take care of another life?”
Anya shook her head. “Your baby will be fine. No evil involved there. No taint. And you can so take care of yourself. You’ll do just fine. And you have Xander and me and the others to help you. You’ll get through this.”
Andrew snorted. “Christ, Anya. I don’t even know how girls have babies. Much less how I’m supposed to have one!” His bravado faded. “Mostly I’m scared cause I want this baby so badly. I want Xander so badly. I want a family…and I don’t think the universe will agree that I deserve one. I’ve done some horrible things.” His gaze turned far away and Anya knew he was seeing Jonathon in his mind.
Anya wanted to take him in her arms and just hug him til he stopped crying, til he started believing in himself. Instead she just sighed. “Andrew, everything will work out fine. I’ll do everything I can to protect you. And I know that Xander will as well. And you have a busload of Slayers and a mega witch on your side too. They’ll all support you.”
Andrew shot up to sit on the bed. “No!” he insisted. “They won’t. They’ll find out that I’m pregnant with the First’s child and they’ll kill me!”
Anya growled and stood, her hands on/through her hips. “You are not pregnant with the First’s child!” she snapped. You are pregnant with Warren Meer’s child. And though he was a bastard, when he impregnated you he wasn’t evil. Your baby is pure. It’s untainted. It’s good.” She sighed and sat back down on the bed. “You have to tell Xander, Andrew. He can’t protect you from something he doesn’t understand.”
Andrew began frantically spinning the ring around on his finger, tears spilling freely down his face. “He can’t protect me at all, Anya.”
“Yes, he can,” she insisted. “And he will. You just have to trust him.”
Andrew shook his head. “Anya, he loves you. He’ll always love you. He doesn’t have room for anyone else. Especially a man. A man who’s pregnant with another man’s child.”
“Yes, he loves me,” Anya agreed, starting to want to throttle the blonde. “He’ll always love me in a way. But he hasn’t been in love with me for a long time. And you’ll find that, even so, there is an amazing amount of love in Xander Harris’s heart. More than enough for me, for his friends, even for the world at large. Most especially for you and for that baby. You just have to trust him.”
Her gaze softened. “You have to tell him, Andrew. And you have to tell him soon.”
“No,” he whispered, lying back down. “No, it can wait. Just a little longer. Just until things are a bit more settled down.”
Anya clenched her fist, her nails plunging through her hand and out the other side. “Andrew! You are in labor…now!”
He shook his head. “No, it’s just the pancakes,” he insisted stubbornly, recognizing his lie but too terrified that if he admitted to it, it would become true.
Anya fought back a scream. “Take the ring off, Andrew.”
“No.”
“Take it off now!”
“No!”
“Take it off and look at your stomach you little twit!” she shrieked.
“Fine!” he flinched away from her anger and jerked the ring off, watching his stomach swell into sight. “There! Are you happy?”
Anya sighed. “Pull up your shirt,” she directed quietly. He did so and watched as the imprint of a tiny hand scraped across his stomach. He smiled slightly just before another stabbing pain rocketed through his gut. He curled around his stomach and moaned. Anya stroked her hand through his hair/head. “You are having this baby now, Andrew.”
“No,” he moaned, shoving the ring back on his finger. “No, I won’t have it now. You can’t…” he whimpered again. “Just go, Anya. Please. Just go and leave me alone.” He rolled back over, presenting his back to her and continued crying into his pillow.
Anya ignored his plea and stay on the edge of the bed, running her hand through/over his back in a comforting manner.
In the hallway, Dawn eased away from the door, her eyes wide with shock. She tiptoed down the hallway a bit and leaned against the wall. Soon, a determined glint came to her eye and she pushed off the wall…in search of the one person who would know what to do.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"He's PREGNANT?" Buffy asked for the fourth time.
"Shhh!!!" Dawn scolded, her gaze drifting to the door nervously. "That's what I said."
"You're aware than he's a boy, right?"
The younger girl glowered at her sister. "Yes, Buffy, I know he's a boy. YOU didn't see his stomach. It was all…big. And round. Definitely a preggo belly."
Buffy bit her lip. This was wrong in all kinds of ways. "Tell me about the ring again. What did he say?"
"Well, I didn't hear much, he was talking to someone but I couldn't tell who it was. I didn't want to get caught eaves--walking by. Anyway, he kept twirling it around his finger and then he got all mad and yanked it off and then 'poof!', he had a belly."
"So…the ring makes him pregnant…"
"No," Dawn said, thinking carefully, "I think it might be the other way around. I think the ring made him not-pregnant." At Buffy's confused look, Dawn threw up her hands. "Geez, Buffy! I don't know. I'm not a doctor or a witch or a witch-doctor or-- What are we going to do?"
Buffy was thoughtful for a moment. "And there's no way you made a mistake? This isn't just Andrew overindulging in Twinkies like Xander and the Choc-o-Diles last summer--"
"No! Trust me, Buffy. He's pregnant. And in labor. A lot of labor. And a lot of pain. He was crying."
Buffy nodded. "I trust you, Dawnie. If he's really having a baby, he needs to go to a hospital."
"We can't take a boy to the hospital. What would we tell them?"
"How about 'Our friend is in agony, get this kid out of him now?'" Dawn scowled at her. "Okay, not a time for joking. Look, I have no idea how this is even...possible," she winced, "but if it's true--and I'm sure that it is," she added at Dawn's sharp glance, "then we have to tell the others. We have to tell Giles."
Dawn bit her lip nervously. "Does Giles know about mystical childbirth?"
"I'm not sure Giles even knows about *human* childbirth, but we don't have a choice."
"Andrew seemed really upset. I don't think he wants anyone to know."
"Well he doesn't have a choice now, does he? He's made us a part of whatever is going on. Look, Dawnie, I know you care about him and you don't want to hurt him. Neither do I. But telling Giles is the only way we can help him, right?"
Dawn sighed heavily. "I guess so."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"We have to talk."
"GEEZ, ANYA!" Xander said from his perch on Willow's toilet. "Can it wait until I'm off the can?"
"No, it can't. You have to talk to Andrew. Like, now."
"Kind of indisposed at the moment. Besides," Xander cast his eyes to his sneakers, "he doesn't want to talk to me."
"Then *make* him! He doesn't know *what* he wants, Xander. And, unfortunately, he's got a lot of choices to make and not a lot of time. You only have six minutes left to talk to him or you'll lose him."
"There's a time limit?"
"Talk to him."
"But I--"
"--You'll *lose* him, Xander." Anya sighed gravely, then brought her transparent face within an inch of his. If anyone else had done that-- especially while he was sitting on the toilet--he might have freaked. Somehow, with Anya, it didn't matter. "He's so close. Talk to him. Tease him. Torture him. Do *something*, because in a couple of minutes…the decisions will be made *for* him. For both of you." She smiled sadly. "Good luck, Xander."
Anya stepped back, then back again, until she was through the wall and gone from the room.
Xander left the bathroom quickly, wiping his clean, wet hands on this pants. Make him talk? It's not like he could interrogate the guy. He didn't have an exposed lightbulb or a two-way mirror with a smart- aleck partner observing the whole thing. Then again, he thought, Anya *was* pretty sassy.
You'll lose him.
The thought kept creeping around in his head as he kissed Willow's cheek. "I'm going back to my room for a while."
"Okay," Willow said absently, pouring over a map. "Hey, tell Andrew I hope he feels better," she added.
"I will." Xander stepped outside and shut the door behind him. Running his hands through his hair, he took a deep breath. Make him. Make him…make him.
"Excuse me, Xander," Buffy said, striding purposefully past him. Dawn followed behind and shot an apologetic smile at Xander.
"Hey, where's the fire?" he asked, noting that they were heading toward Giles' room.
"Nothing. Nothing big," Dawn said quickly. Buffy didn't bother to answer, only entered Giles' room without knocking. Whatever it was, it seemed serious. Xander hoped that Buffy hadn't discovered some new evil lurking on the horizon. Avoiding one apocalypse was enough for one week.
Xander walked slowly to his room, trying to make a game plan. He'd ask Andrew what was wrong, then Andrew would tell him. Easy. Because it had worked *so* well the last time he'd tried, he chided himself. Xander clenched his fists in frustration. Okay, maybe he wouldn't *ask* what was wrong. He'd guess. Yeah, like Twenty Questions. Make it a game. Andrew liked games.
He slowly opened the door. Andrew lay where Xander had left him, though he'd curled to the side. He kicked off his shoes and curled up onto the unoccupied side of the bed, staring at Andrew's back.
Make him talk.
"So, Andrew," he started. "I was wondering…Do you wanna play Twenty Questions? I'll go first. The topic is, 'What's wrong with Andrew?' and my first question is, 'Does it have to do with…pancakes?"
There was a muffled mumble from the other side of the bed.
"What was that? I didn't hear."
"No," Andrew gasped. Xander realized he'd been crying. His stomach clenched. There was so much pain in that that one strained 'no' that he thought his heart would break. His heart began beating rapidly. Anya had said he had six minutes, whatever that meant, and most of them were already gone.
"Okay…Does it have something to do with food?"
"No."
"Does it have to do with Sunnydale and the destruction of all we know and love?"
"…kinda…"
Okay. Kinda. Now he was getting somewhere. "Does it have to do with a particular person?"
"Yes."
"Boy or girl?"
"You can't ask that, Xander," Andrew chided and rolled to his back. "Only yes or no questions."
Xander smiled, despite the clock ticking in his head. "Right. Sorry. Does it have to do with Giles?"
"No."
"Robin?"
"No."
Xander swallowed hard. "With me?"
"…no…not really…"
Somehow, Xander was disappointed.
"…but I wish it did…" came a soft whisper from the other side of the bed.
"You do?"
"…Yes."
"How?"
Xander knew it wasn't a yes or no question but he'd acted on impulse, letting instinct guide him. Anya had said to talk to him, tease him, or torture him. Talking wasn't working and he'd never tease or torture him on purpose.
"How?" he repeated, and leaned forward to pressed a soft kiss to Andrew's shoulder, over his t-shirt. It wasn't exactly torture, but it might work. Then he let his arm drape over Andrew's form, laying across the arm already covering Andrew's smooth belly. He slid his palm under Andrew's hand, growing hard as he came in contact with the firm, smooth planes of Andrew's abdomen. If Andrew would only let him, he would love to kiss that spot--that smooth spot just below his belly button where he was trailing his fingers gently...
Andrew did nothing, said nothing, so Xander tried again. "How?" he said, and moved to kiss the warm, lightly tanned skin on the side of Andrew's neck. Then he opened his mouth slightly and kissed it again, delighting in the soft shudder that went through Andrew's body. "How?" he whispered into Andrew's ear, taking the tiny lobe into his mouth and biting gently. "How?….How?….How?" He punctuated each question with a lingering kiss to a bit of exposed skin. Andrew was shaking so hard; he was either really enjoying Xander's ministrations or really hating it. "Ho--"
"AUGH!"
Andrew lurched forward, clutching his stomach. Xander jerked back instinctively. What had he done? What had he touched? Were his kisses that bad? They had to be if--
"OH, GOD!" Andrew cried and pinched his lips shut.
Andrew began clawing at the sheets with his free hand, the other was running over his belly.
"What's wrong?" Xander asked in alarm. "Talk to me, Andrew! What is it? Please!" Xander was hysterical. He had a sudden vision of an alien bursting from Andrew's smooth chest. The muscles in Andrew's throat were rippling with the force of not opening his mouth. Andrew was obviously in agony and there was nothing Xander could do to help it or stop it. "Please TELL ME!" Xander cried again, feeling the hot tears of frustration running down his cheeks. "Whatever it is, whatever is happening, I'll understand, okay? I PROMISE! Just please, please tell me!" This was horrible! Worse than torture. What had he done? What was Anya thinking? Where *was* Anya when he needed her?
Another pained cry left Andrew's lips and Xander grabbed the blond boy's hand, squeezing tight. He brought it to his mouth and kissed it hard, tears dripping between both of their fingers.
"Please…" Xander whispered to himself, to Anya, to Andrew, to *anyone* who might be listening to his pitiful plea.
Almost as if someone *had* been listening, the grip Andrew held on his hand loosened and his breathing began to slow down. Suddenly, he heard voices down the hall. Buffy…and maybe Giles? It sounded like they were coming to his room--and who wouldn't after the blood- curdling screaming coming from in here?
"Andrew?" Xander stretched next to the sweating, pale form of his friend and pressed his mouth to his throat. "Andrew, I don't know what's going on and I don't know why you won't tell me. But I'll tell you this," he whispered softly. "In about thirty seconds, things are going to change. Things are *already* changing; I get that. But things are going to change for you in a big way unless you decide this right now." He felt Andrew turn to look at him and smiled softly. "Andrew. What is going on?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
TBC
I own nothing. Joss is God.
Round 1 Part 1 by Tara
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Smack
Round 1 Part 2 by Velvet Crypt
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Round 2 Part 1 by Tara
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Round 2 Part 2 by Velvet Crypt
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Round 2 Part 3 by Karen
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Round 2 Part 4 by Graceless
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Round 3 Part 1 by Tara
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Round 3 Part 2 by Velvet Crypt
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Round 3 Part 3 by Karen
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Round 3 Part 4 by Graceless
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