Sandy Places Among the Angels chapter 27

[gilascave]

by James and wolfling


CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN


"I really appreciate this," Xander told Cordelia, for what he knew was the fifth time. They were sitting at Chez Lomain's, having a very nice lunch as Xander's bribe to her.

Cordy looked at him. "You better. I don't handle slime for just anyone, you know."

"It's perfectly almost safe slime," Xander assured her. He paused and ordered soda from the waiter, and tried not to look intimidated when Cordelia ordered hers in French.

"The operative word in that sentence being 'slime,'" she told him, after the waiter had left to get their drinks.

"But it's colourful," Xander added. "You could wear something to match it." He was pretty sure he wasn't making much sense, but she'd said he could bribe her with lunch and she'd let him know after she ate, whether or not she'd do it. Hence the fancy French restaurant, instead of Billy's Pizza. he didn't think anything he said would really sway her decision. It was entirely up to how much he was willing to pay for her meal.

"Please." She wrinkled her nose prettily. "*Nothing* matches slime. It's oozing and icky and....slimy."

"But this is high quality slime! It's psychoreactive. Er, or at least it's supposed to be. If I did it right."

Now Cordelia was looking faintly alarmed. "You want me to touch psycho-slime? Like regular slime isn't bad enough?"

"No! It's like...um.. did you ever see the second Ghostbusters movie?" He hated to admit where his inspiration had come from -- he'd turned in his proposal for his semester project a month ago, and had managed to make it sound like he'd got this brilliant idea from someplace other than the movies.

"This isn't going to involve a giant marshmallow is it?"

"I don't think so." Of course, he knew better than to rule anything out.

"Okay, that is not the kind of reassurance I was hoping for."

"Cordelia, you grew up in Sunnydale. Do you *really* want me to say "no, there will be no giant marshmallows involved'?"

The waiter was setting their drinks down as he said this, but the man didn't even blink. Maybe he didn't speak English. Maybe Hollywood people ate here. Xander resisted the urge to look around, as he had that thought.

Cordy considered as she sipped her drink. "Point. Even mentioning it is probably tempting fate too much."

"So if it does show up...we blame it on Angel." He grinned as she gave him a sharp look.

"I doubt he'd even notice, he and Doyle are so wrapped up in each other." Cordelia tried to sound exasperated but the softness in her eyes gave away her real feelings.

"Yeah. Darn them." Xander smiled, as well. He felt a little softy-eyed about it, as well. They'd finally actually *told* each other how they felt, and Cordy and he were taking bets on how long it would take for anything more than talking to happen.

"Though if we're looking for someone to blame bad things on, there's always *Spike*." Cordelia's nose was crinkling up in the same expression of distaste she had shown for slime.

Xander froze. He opened his mouth, decided if he had to kill Doyle for spilling the beans, he'd have to make sure Angel never found out about it. Decided maybe he could get Spike to do it. Realised that Cordy wasn't trying to threaten him with life, limb, or phone calls home, so maybe she didn't mean his Spike.

"So this is marshmallow slime you want me to touch?"

"Spike?" he squeaked.

She looked at him startled. "What, Angel didn't tell you he's been helping out?"

"Er.. Spike? As in.. Spike, Spike?" He knew Spike was helping out, because usually Spike helped *him*. But Cordelia wasn't supposed to know Spike helped out. She wasn't supposed to know he was in town.

"Is there more than one?"

"Um, no. I don't know. Is there?"

"God, I hope not. One of him is already one too many." Cordelia shook her head. "I still don't know whatever possessed Angel to let him hang around, y'know, unstaked."

"So.. Spike. Angel's Spike. He's.. you've seen him?"

"Of course I've seen him." She was looking at him strangely now.

"He's... Angel's Spike?" Spike hadn't mentioned seeing Cordelia. Xander was going to have a talk with his boyfriend about keeping secrets.

"Well not that way. Ewwww. Spike? Ewwwwww." The nose crinkle was back.

Xander frowned, and bit back a retort. It wouldn't exactly keep 'dating-Spike' a secret if he told Cordelia how un-eew he was and how he knew Spike wasn't Angel's. He tried to re-focus on finding out exactly what Cordelia knew. "But.. he's here? In LA?"

Now he was getting the 'did Xander get hit on the head and suffer brain damage?' look. "Where else would he be helping out Angel Investigations?"

"Um. So. He's helping Angel?" Xander thought he was still sounding a little moronic, but at least he wasn't saying anything like "he didn't tell me that."

"Yes, that's why I said he was helping Angel. Because he is." Now she was *talking* to him like he had brain damage.

"Weird." Xander nearly jumped as the waiter came over, mentally adding an extra ten dollars to the guy's tip for rescuing him from further stupidity. "So! Food. We should order."

Cordelia continued to look at him doubtfully, but willingly gave her order to the waiter. Again in French.

"Um." Xander realised he hadn't actually looked at his menu. He didn't even know if it would be written in English. He gave Cordy a cute look. She sighed and said something else to the waiter; Xander hoped it was food for him.

If not, he'd just threaten to have lost his wallet or... no, Cordelia would walk out and leave him with the check. He smiled at her to thank her, and handed over his unused menu to the waiter. The man nodded and took it, giving Xander a slightly raised eyebrow look. Xander returned it -- the guy was cute, after all. No harm in looking, with Spike not around to growl possessively.

The waiter smiled slightly, and walked away. Xander turned back to Cordy.

"Please tell me you were not just flirting with our waiter."

Xander looked shocked. "He started it."

"You were! Oh my god, I can't take you anywhere."

"You.. who brought whom here?"

Cordelia waved away the comment. "Would you have been here without me? No? Then I stand by my statement."

"Are you saying I wouldn't have come to eat dinner at a place like this if I weren't trying to butter you up?" It was a little scary to realise that Xander's statement didn't actually worry him.

"Please. I've seen what you usually eat."

Xander narrowed his eyes. "I've eaten at places like this before."

Twice. In London, with his grandparents. But did she know that?

She lifted an eyebrow. "Without Giles?"

Xander frowned at her. "Maybe."

Cordelia just smiled, her point made.

"I *could*," he insisted. "If I wanted to. There aren't a lot of places we can go--" He stopped himself, too late of course. He played with his silverware to cover for not wanting to look up at her.

He started when she reached across and covered his hand with her own. "You and Bork?"

Xander nodded. He didn't want to get into this discussion. He *really* didn't. Cordelia knowing that Spike was in town and hanging around Angel was one thing. Talking about 'Bork' was another, totally different, more dangerous thing.

Because if she said 'can I meet him' he'd have to lie to her some more. Like he did to everyone.

"You know," she began slowly, "you could bring him by the office any time. God knows if we can put up with Spike, we can put up with anybody."

"I.. know," he managed. He didn't think he could say anything about Spike -- make a joke about him, or anything. He needed to change the subject. "So - you're willing to help me?"

Cordelia sighed exasperatedly. "Yes," she said, sounding much put upon, "I'll help. God, I'm just too nice for my own good."

Xander grinned at her. "Great! Wonderful! Did I mention I would be willing to take you to dinner again, after I'm finished with the experiment?" It would distract her from Bork. And Spike. And possibly himself.

"My choice of restaurant?"

"If I can afford it, and have clothing they'll let me inside wearing, yes."

She smiled. "You forget, you told me how much Giles sends you every month."

"Oh. Um. It has to serve food I'll eat?" He had a feeling they'd covered this ground already, when they'd made plans to come here.

"Is there food you won't eat?"

Xander opened his mouth to tell her -- then stopped. He thought about it. The he looked at her. "What did you order me?"

Cordelia just smiled mysteriously.

"Have I mentioned I'm allergic to vegetables?"

"You prepared that vegetable stirfry for me and Doyle last month."

"But I had to take a antihistamine beforehand. Otherwise my head would have swelled up, and I'd have broken out in a rash, and I'd have started babbling."

She raised her eyebrow again. "And I would have noticed a difference?"

"You might've," Xander countered. He leaned back as the waiter brought them both salads. He found the waiter giving him a smile, as he leaned forward to set Xander's plate in front of him. Xander returned it. It was nice to know that, taken or not, he was cute enough to be flirted with.

Cordelia rolled her eyes when he left. "That's so rude. For all he knows, I could be your girlfriend."

"Maybe he wants you to watch."

He watched as she wrinkled her nose then got a faintly interested gleam in her eye that suddenly made Xander nervous.

"Or maybe he knows a fabulous looking catch like--" he paused, then said, "Me, wouldn't be caught dead dating a *girl*."

He was *almost* too far away to get kicked. But it was worth it.

************


Xander was hunched down so he could look at the beaker, level with the top of the slime inside it. He'd tried not to call it 'marshmallow slime' out loud -- but he had to admit that the colour, when in its dormant state, was... white. And slimy.

Marshmallowy.

When someone who didn't know what the slime was really made of, was holding a test tube of it, it changed colours. Pastel, neon, primary -- you name it, it changed to match the mood. Xander had even been able to get Cordelia to hold a test tube of slime that perfectly matched her shirt -- blue-green.

He'd had to tell her dirty jokes to do it, but in the interest of scientific research, it was all worth it. So was seeing Cordelia laugh and blush until she could barely stand.

It had been a good afternoon. He made a mental note to make an effort to try and spend more time with Cordelia, without the slime and without the demon fighting. Not only did he enjoy her company, but she was an excellent source of office gossip -- which he obviously needed since no one else seemed to see fit to mention the little things to him -- like his boyfriend openly hanging around.

He reminded himself to say something about that, to said boyfriend -- preferably when Spike was naked, and distracted, and Xander could take advantage of it to get abject apologies and favours to make up for it.

Or maybe he'd just mess with Spike's mind.

Xander grinned, then wrenched his concentration back to his experiment. Cordy had left an hour ago, with his IOU for another nice dinner. Xander had begged off helping Angel tonight with their current case, because this project had to be finished by Friday. He didn't have time to take this evening, or any other, off this week -- so losing a few hours' work because he was thinking about a naked boyfriend and dropped a test tube would not make him a happy camper.

It sucked being responsible sometimes. Here he was stuck in the lab -- alone -- when he could've been out there fighting demons and saving the world. Or the city. Or at least the client. But you never knew when saving the client would accidentally involve saving the world too.

At least he had something to look forward too - giving Spike a hard time. He really did want to know how long he'd been hanging out at Angel's. Before or after Doyle had given Xander his little talk? Probably after, he decided. Otherwise Doyle would have said they already knew that much.

Doyle was a good guy -- forthright when it mattered. He would've said... though come to think of it, Xander realised - why hadn't *Doyle* told him Spike was hanging around the office?

Of course Doyle had been rather distracted lately, preoccupied with his own vampire. The last few times he'd seen him, Doyle had been wearing a grin bordering on sappy and idiotic and his conversation had trailed off any time said vampire was in the same room.

Xander had been hard pressed not to drag Doyle aside for some 'dating a vampire' bonding. He wanted to, and figured they would eventually. But right now Doyle was still in the 'easily distracted' stage. Xander remembered being there himself.

Possibly last week, when he'd been trying to study, and Spike had called. Or that morning, when he'd almost been late for class because of the naked vampire in his bed. And in his shower.

Okay, maybe the easily distracted stage didn't go away at all.

He decided that meant he should go ahead and try for some Doyle-Xander quality time, where they could dish about their boyfriends. Maybe he'd call this weekend, after he got his project turned in. Send Spike and Angel off to play by themselves -- or together -- and he and Doyle would go out and grab a pizza and more soda than man was meant to consume.

He looked up at the sound of the door opening, grinning when he saw it was Spike. "Oh, hey. Was just thinking about you. Well, you and Doyle and Angel."


Then he saw the look on Spike's face.

"What is it?" he asked, feeling his heart in his throat.

"I.. come on," Spike said, waving towards a stool. "Sit down."

Xander didn't move. "What is it?" he repeated, his voice shriller, the ghost of panic in it.

Spike gave a sigh, shoulders hunching a bit, then he just walked over. He stopped in front of Xander, and looked down, reaching for Xander's hand. "Doyle got-- He. He stopped the Scourge. Saved everyone."

Xander blinked. That was a good thing, right? Saving everyone. Then why was Spike looking at him like that?

Spike swallowed hard, and squeezed Xander's hand.

"I'm sorry." Spike's voice broke.

"I don't..." Understand. He shook his head, bewildered. He could feel the panic licking up his sides like a fire slowly catching. Spike was crying because Doyle saved everyone? It didn't make sense.

He didn't want it to make sense.

"He's dead, Xan. He--" Spike grabbed him, hard, and held on.

"No."

But Spike didn't answer -- he just held on tighter, and pressed his face against Xander's shoulder.

"No," he repeated, voice so shrill he barely recognized it as his own. "You're wrong. Doyle isn't-- he wouldn't -- he can't--"

"He did."

"No."

"He is." And Spike's voice broke again, and there was silence, just Spike's body shaking in tiny tremors. "I liked him."

For some reason that made it real for him, forced him to believe it, even as he kept mouthing "No," over and over.

***************
end chapter twenty seven