Shades of the Past
Shades of the Past
Making nice with a Slayer's family was something that Xander could now do in his sleep, it was so familiar.
The Intatanos were friendly people. Moana and her uncle Thierry were the only ones living on the island, the other family members living scattered on the nearby islands. The dojo they managed had been in their family for generations and it showed in the homey décor and the well-cared condition of the place.
The Intatanos were also aware of the existance of the various creatures of the night. This made Xander's job right-down easy.
Moana had not known about her status as a Slayer, but was not all that surprised that the increased strength and agility was the result of magic and not her training. It also explained the dreams.
Training with her was a pleasure. In the past, in Africa, Xander had dealt mostly with girls and women who had lived sedate, peaceful or constricted lives. Martial arts skills had been a rare thing to be found on the black continent.
But all Slayers learned fast if need be. And learning to fight was in their blood.
Moana was skilled and fast. She was clever and did fight dirty when she was in a mischievous mood. Fighting and spars were fun to her.
Moana was not, in any way, ruthless.
Maybe she would not ever need to be, if she chose to remain here in French Polynesia, living on the islands that saw far more nasty tourists than nasty demons.
Her ruthlessness was a refreshing difference to Xander. Moana was like a new breath of cool air that filled his lungs after an eternity of breathing dry, hot, acrid desert air.
To him she was shades of teenaged Buffy.
All in all, with meeting the Slayer and everything to do with that, Xander had not met up with Cage for over a week.
While he had been busy, he still had found some time to think about the other man, and the revelation he had about the intensity of his longing for Cage. One afternoon turned evening spent sitting next to each other, talking, and somewhere inside Xander there was this place again, this hole in his heart, that only the other could fill.
It scared him, to be frank. That Cage still had this basic power, this tether on him.
That Cage could, with only a few words, smiles and the smallest, quickest touches, make Xander so acutely crave more. And more. Made him want to have it all.
He remembered what it had felt like, having all of Cage. Having all of his attention on you, being so wrapped in the whole of Xander Cage that all you felt, all you smelt, all you heard, all you tasted and all you could see was him.
Larger than life. More than a mere man.
At least to you.
And, by all the Gods that looked down on him, he wanted it. Back. So badly.
As he stood on the porch of Cage's house, ringing the bell this time, his gut was churning and his heart raced.
In his head he likened the feeling to embarrassingly cliché parallels. A virgin girl's first kiss. Butterflies in his tummy. The tune of Yummy, yummy, yummy, I got love in my tummy
lodged itself in his ear, great. He raised his hand again to ring the bell.
Yelena opened the door.
Instantly he felt sick. The butterflies got eaten. Drowning in bile.
Then their eyes met, and in a split second both of them recognized the other intimately for what they were. Adversaries.
Xander's grin, just now happy and chipper, was full of teeth and Yelena's smokey eyes were like ice.
Cage stepped up to the door and bid Xander inside with a jovial smile. Xander brushed up against Yelena as he stepped into the house. Primal instincts making him antagonize his opponent, so to aggravate her, hopefully getting her to make mistakes. Making winning more easy for him.
Xander was not above doing anything, to get what he wanted.
He drew a deep breath, when he had stepped up close to Cage.
Everything in him knew what he wanted.