When We Last Met
by James Walkswithwind
chapter nine
 

He had thought it would have been really difficult.
Then he thought it
would be easy.  These were his friends.  People he'd
known for years, who
had seen him at his worst -- in Speedos -- and at his
best...er, no, they
hadn't seen that, had they?  Xander sighed.  No wonder
his final conclusion
had been 'Run away before they see you!'

It was a couple hours before sundown, and he was
walking towards the Bronze
where Willow had decided they would all have a date.
Triple date, Buffy
with Riley, Willow with Tara, and he with Graham.  At
the Bronze.  Together.
Dating.

Graham had said 'yes', when Xander had asked.  The
jerk.

Xander sighed, and tried again to tell himself that
this would be easy.
They were his friends, or significant others of
friends, which meant they'd
be sympathetic towards him and his own wanna-be
Significant Other.  Right?
Just because one of those significant-other-of-friend
was a good friend of
Graham's, and Willow and Buffy had taken to giggling
behind their hands
whenever Xander tried carrying on a conversation with
them....  He *didn't*
mention Graham in every other sentence.  No matter
what Willow said.
Besides which, 'Tara' wasn't the most common word in
the English language,
though you wouldn't know it to listen to Willow talk.

So maybe they'd all be too distracted by their own
interests to make this
difficult.  Willow and Buffy would be so into talking
to and dancing with
Tara and Riley that they wouldn't notice that Xander
and Graham were talking
about the basketball game, or whether it made any
logical sense at all to
publish pictures of a stealth jet, and pretending they
were only friends.
Certainly not dancing.  Graham didn't dance more than
Xander didn't dance.

The only time they acted like they were dating was
when they were alone at
Xander's place.  Granted, that meant 'having sex' or
'post-coital nap' and
little else.  And what was wrong with that, Xander
demanded of the sidewalk
heading towards the Bronze.  Getting closer, now, and
soon he'd be too late
to claim a flat tire on the car he had actually sold
last week, but none of
them knew that, yet.  He could duck into a shop and
use the phone, call
Willow's answering machine and explain himself away.
Grab Graham before he
got to the club and they could sneak off to act like
they were dating.

"Hey, Xander!"

He looked up and smiled, waved at Willow.  Tara was
standing behind her, a
faint smile on her face as she glanced towards Willow;
a shy, uncertain one
when she returned Xander's wave, with just her
fingers.  "Hey, if it isn't
two lovely ladies hailing me in front of all to see
and be made jealous by."
Xander grinned, and was momentarily sorry he'd said it
so loudly when Tara
blushed and looked down.  "Too bad for me it does
nothing for me."

Willow was rolling her eyes at him.  "Are Buffy and
Riley here yet?  Have
you-- where's Graham?"  Willow began looking around,
as they headed towards
the club entrance.  "Xander?" she asked in a scolding
tone.  As if he'd got
mud on Graham and broken him, so he couldn't come out
to play.

That thought distracted him from making too pithy a
remark -- mud wrestling,
hmm, yeah -- and he just said, "He's meeting me here.
If that's OK with
you, mom?"

Her smile turned indulgent.  "Yes, it's OK with me.
But next time I want
warning.  For almost a second there I thought you two
had broken up and we
were gonna have to forego fun, to feed you chocolate."

"He can't break up with me," came Graham's amused
voice from behind them.
"He has my wallet."

"I what?"  Xander thought back.  That would have been
the 'what's in *this*
pocket?' game.  Wallet?  There had been a wallet?
"Oops?  Why didn't you
call?"

"I did, about a half hour ago when I finally noticed.
I guess you were
already gone."

"Sorry.  We can swing by my place and get it.  Um, if
you need it now, we
can go--"

"Nah, that's OK.  Later's good.  You can pay for my
drinks."  Graham gave
him a small smile.  Xander grinned back.  Maybe they
were both thinking -
retrieving wallet = being in Xander's basement.  Could
be nakedness
involved.....

"Hello?  Are they even listening to us?"  Buffy asked.

"I think they're thinking about sex," Willow said.

"What!?  Was not!"  Xander spun around to find four
people staring at him --
and Graham -- with varying degrees of amusement on
their faces.

Riley took pity on them, and tugged at Buffy's arm.
"Shouldn't we go inside
where the music and drinks are?"

That got them moving towards the Bronze entrance
again.  Graham fell into
step beside Xander, and said quietly, "You weren't? I
was."

Xander managed not to trip, and instead looked over
and said, "Isn't this
the third time you've left your wallet at my place?"
He leered.  Graham
just looked confused, and shook his head.
 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
 

Xander paced outside Giles' apartment for ten minutes
before finally going
to the door.  He'd been debating not whether or not to
go in, or whether or
not to ask his question once he did -- but whether or
not he was completely
insane and if it had any bearing on his problem.  He
wasn't completely
convinced Giles would tell him if he were insane.  Or
was it the other way
around?  But he'd finally accepted the fact that he
wasn't getting anywhere
by retracing the path in front of Giles' place, and
went inside.

"Ah, Xander.  Ready to sit for awhile?"  Giles greeted
him, for once not
giving the door a swear-that-was-locked glare.

"Um, sure, OK, yeah."  Xander walked over towards the
couch, then walked in
front of it, turned, walked back.  Headed for the
chair, then turned,
thinking maybe the couch was better, and when he
reached the end of that
again he thought maybe he'd stand, and then should he
stand by the kitchen
or over by the desk where Giles was or--  "Eep."  He
stopped, looking at
Giles who had stepped in front of him.

"Sit."

Xander sat.

"Now, tell me what's bothering you. And please be as
vague as possible, if
this concerns your sex life."

Xander looked up at him.  "Can you tell if someone is
insane, or just
psychic?"

Giles's expression only changed marginally -- he was
already looking like he
was only humouring Xander's appearance and obvious
need for someone to ask
for advice which he could then disregard.  Xander
waited for him to ask for
some clarification, while trying to figure out exactly
how he would offer it
without convincing Giles he *was* insane.  Finally
Giles said, "Please tell
me this *isn't*, in fact, about your sex life."

"Not directly.  I think we can have this entire
conversation without my
saying anything about having sex with Graham.  Um,
except one part."

Giles nodded.  "All right.  You promise to be vague
for that one bit?"

Xander nodded.  "I promise."

"Why do you think you're insane?"

"I didn't say me-- uh, right.  The 'I have this
friend' thing isn't gonna
work, is it?"  Giles shook his head.  Taking a deep
breath, Xander
explained, "Graham likes diet coke.  And westerns, and
hates really stupid
comedies.  We went to a movie last week, I picked the
film and bought the
snacks....and I got everything right."

"Well, obviously, you're insane.  I appreciate your
stopping by--"

"Giles, you don't get it!"

"Because you haven't exactly explained it, Xander,"
Giles said, a hint of
genuine patience in his voice.  "Knowing what he likes
and doesn't like is
usually considered a good thing."

"Not when no one told you what he likes."

There was a pause.  "I'm sorry?"

"He never *said* he wanted diet coke.  Willow didn't
have it in her research
information.  I don't *think* Riley said anything...."

Giles looked faintly confused, but not concerned.
"You must have simply
observed it, then.  You've been to any number of
parties where he would have
been drinking, or may have mentioned what he wanted."

"That's what I thought."  Xander leaned forward, and
was encouraged when
Giles didn't start leaning back, edging away from him.
"I figured, maybe I
had a lucky guess with the movies thing.  Then I asked
him about Minnesota."

Xander waited for Giles to ask.  Giles was waiting,
not asking, until he
rolled his eyes and said, "For god's sake, Xander,
just tell me why that's
important.  You needn't have dramatic pauses all over
the place."

"He's from Minnesota.  Well, he lived there for about
ten years, as a kid.
He told me that part.  *After* I mentioned it.  That
he was from there --
Giles, Willow didn't tell me that part.  Riley didn't
tell me -- *no* one
told me!  And I was right! I knew!"  Xander jumped up
from the couch and
began pacing again.  This time Giles didn't stop him.
"Giles, in my life
I've dated an insect, a mummy, two psychotics,
and..um..Larry.  OK, he was
normal.  But I'm not exactly batting an average, here.
Is Graham some kinda
thought-leaking telepathic demon?  Has the Hellmouth
seeped into my brain
and made me hear things?  Am I nuts?  Am--"

Giles was on his feet, now, catching Xander by the arm
and trying to hold
him still.  He succeeded, marginally.  "Xander,
Xander!"

Xander stopped trying to pace, and stood more or less
still.  He hadn't felt
this panicked outside, earlier.  Hadn't felt this
panicked all the times
he'd thought about what he'd been noticing, and
telling himself he wasn't
really noticing.  There was just something about the
calm way Giles was
listening to all of this, that made him ready to
panic.  "I told myself it
was perfectly normal.  Coincidence.  That we were
just..in a groove,
somehow, that we knew each other because we were meant
to be or something.
But he doesn't know anything about me and I know his
scar is from falling
off a fence when he was twelve!"

"Calm down,"  Giles said, holding onto Xander's arms
with both hands.  "We
won't solve anything by panicking."

"We solved the Musthla demon invasion by panicking,"
Xander reminded him.

"Er, yes.  But that was pure happenstance, and it was
only the one time.
Now, look.  There is an explanation for this.  Whether
you've overheard this
information from somewhere and don't recall, or you've
observed things and
figured out what they mean, or--"

"Or I'm telepathic and my brain is gonna fry!"

"Well, if that's the case, I'd like to have your
collection of comics."

Mouth open, Xander just stared at him.

In a gentle tone, Giles said, "There are ways to find
out if you've become
telepathic.  Or indeed if there is anything magical or
'Hellmouthy' going
on."  He pulled on Xander's arm, tugging him towards
the couch once more.
"Are there any other incidents?"

Xander let himself be guided back to the couch.  He
still felt like running
out and finding a tree to hide in, but he sat down,
elbows on his knees, and
rattled quietly.  "You remember how I said I'd have to
tell you something
about my sex life?"

Giles sighed.  "Yes."

"Um, I...when we...oh, hell.  I can't say this to
you."

"We can still look into--"

"I know we've...um, done something.  Together.  But
when I said 'wanna do it
again' he said we hadn't before.  He did, and we did
and it was as great as
I remembered."  Xander managed to avoid being pulled
into the memory of that
afternoon, by the sheer, frantic worry.  "I remember
he left his wallet at
my place a few times.  He says only done it once."  He
looked up at Giles,
wondering if he have to be locked up before he went
crazy.  Or until.

"Hmm." Giles rubbed his chin, and looked off into the
near distance.  Xander
waited, and Giles just kept saying 'hmm' and not
looking at him.

"This is bad, isn't it?" he whispered.

"What? No, not necessarily."  Giles went over to a
bookcase and began
looking for a book.  "It could mean any number of
things.  Not all of them
bad."

"So...how do we find out?" Xander managed to ask
without much waver in his
voice.  He'd had Hellmouthy things happen around him,
for years.  Usually
they didn't happen *to* him.  When they did, he
usually didn't have time to
watch them come upon him, slowly.

"We should first rule out a couple of perfectly normal
possibilities.
Either you've noticed things that you don't
consciously recall noticing,
like a stated preference for diet coke, or Graham
simply doesn't recall
little details that you do."

"Getting rimmed is not a little detail."

Giles dropped his book.  He gave Xander a reproachful
look.  "I did ask you
to be vague."

"Sorry."

"Y-ye-yes, well, let's...get the easy part over with."
He came back over to
Xander, and sat on the coffee table in front of him.
He unwrapped a piece
of cloth he'd been holding, and removed a pocket
watch.

"Is that a magic watch?"

"No, it's simply rather old.  I'm going to hypnotise
you, and we'll
determine if you've seen things you don't quite recall
seeing.  Or hearing,
or..um.. we'll see if you simply don't consciously
recall these things.  If
this proves fruitless, we can use one or another
spell, to determine if
you're under the influence of anything magical."

Xander wasn't completely convinced this was going to
work.  Perhaps, he
figured, it was because he wasn't exactly sure what
Giles was hoping to
accomplish.  But he trusted Giles, and his only other
option was to freak
out.  "You're not gonna make me dance around like a
chicken, are you?"

"What?  Oh, I hadn't thought of that.  Post-hypnotic
suggestion...I could
suggest you get a horrid, searing pain every time you
call me 'G-man'."  At
Xander's expression, he sighed.  "I'm only joking."
He held up the watch by
its chain, and it began to sway slightly.  "All right.
Now, relax.  Look at
the watch."

"It's a nice watch.  Who--"

"Don't talk, Xander.  Just look at it, and listen to
my voice.  And relax."

Xander dutifully looked at the watch, listened to
Giles, and told himself to
relax.  The watch casing was etched on one side, he
saw, and the chain was a
lighter gold colour than the watch itself.  Giles was
talking about how
tired he was getting, and how he should keep looking
at the watch, and how
his eyes really ought to be closing.  He continued
looking at the watch,
anyway, even though he blinked a couple of times.  It
was spinning, a
little, light from the kitchen glinting off the watch
as it moved.  Giles'
voice was quieter, now, and Xander felt like he'd
missed hearing a couple
words.  Xander blinked again, and thought about
telling him to start over
because he hadn't heard it all.  Then he closed his
eyes.

When he opened them again, he couldn't bear to look up
at Giles.
 

end chapter nine