Seething in Seacouver
Disclaimer: I don't own the Buffyverse or Highlander
Xander knew not to drink angry but he’d needed to be away from Andrew and he honestly hadn’t cared where he went. Joe’s Blues bar was only a block away from the hotel they were staying while they investigated the dozens of decapitated bodies that had popped up in Seacouver over the past ten years.
Xander slammed his shot back and banged the glass on the bar, motioning for another. Andrew just did not
get that Xander didn’t want to talk about Anya or Spike or the girls that hadn’t made it out. He didn’t even want to talk in broad terms about his life in Sunnydale. He wanted peace and quiet and time. None of which he could find at the hotel.
The old bartender with a cane poured Xander another drink, turning and waving as a blonde woman with a pixie haircut came in harassing a tall, burly man with a pony tail.
“So, I’m Joe,” the bartender said, a worried smile on his face. “And you look like you could use a friend.”
Xander tightened his hand on his glass and gritted out, “I could use some peace. I could use some quiet. I could use some time. The one thing I do not need is another friend.”
Joe held up his hands. “You sound awfully sure about that.”
Xander carefully drank his shot and sat his glass on the bar before saying, “I’m sharing one hotel room with six other people. My friends. And yet, I’m here. At your bar. So obviously, I don’t need another friend.”
Joe grimace. “Jeez, kid, why don’t you just get your own room?”
Xander snorted. “The historical society I work for refuses to give us the cash for more than one room or the money to fly from the West Coast to England. I’m from Sunnydale so all of my bank accounts are gone and they’ve frozen everyone’s credit cards because there’s been so much identity theft going on.”
“If you’re going from California to the East Coast, why detour through Washington?” Joe asked with a feeling of dread. Historical society, his gimpy ass. He knew a soldier when he saw one.
Xander pinned him with his gaze. “Why’re your two buddies wearing coats that heavy in summer?”
“’Cause,” Faith said, plopping down beside him, “They’re Lightening Dudes.”
Joe stiffened and Xander said, “How do we know that? We didn’t know that when I left.”
Faith nodded at Joe. “His Watchers called our Watchers when they heard we were pokin’ around. Didn’t want us choppin’ the wrong person’s head off.”
Xander nodded, staring at the bar top. “Alrighty. So we’ll be leaving soon.”
Joe waved Faith towards his office. “If I can speak to you for a second.”
She followed him into his office. They came out a few minutes later, her carrying a weighty duffle bag.
Faith walked up to Xander, leaned into him and murmured, “I’m going back to the hotel. He’s got our phone and room numbers. He’s on the level. He’ll see to it that you get home.”
Xander smiled grimly down at his hands. “Like you’re not gonna be sitting across the street waiting for him to haul me home.”
She cupped the back of his head. “I don’t care if they’re supposed to be okay guys. They’re not us and I don’t care about anything but keeping the ‘us’es safe right now. ‘Cause it’s gonna be us against the tweeds in England soon. We’re gonna need you to bother and bewilder the bejeezus out of them. So we need your head attached.”
Xander smiled, tossed back a shot, and stood, his knees almost giving out on him. “Joe, I’ma head out now. Faith’ll see me home.”
Joe waved away Xander’s money. “I’ll put it on the Council’s tab.”
Xander was still snickering as he let Faith support him out of the bar and down the street. That was one way to annoy the tweed out of anyone.