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Scars

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This story is No. 1 in the series "War And Peace". You may wish to read the series introduction first.

Summary: An early morning allows Warren to contemplate where his life is now. (FFA Xander Harris/Warren Peace.)

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Movies > Sky HighTathrilFR181766221,47617 Nov 1117 Nov 11Yes
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything from Buffy or Sky High.
Rating: FR-18.
Summery: Warren Peace reflects on scars, relationships and life.

A/N: No beta. Saw a FFA pairing that made me stop and go “ooohhh.” This is just a short little drabble. Might be more later if I can come up with the muse and the reason to continue it. Might be a little OOC and jumpy.


Scars


An alarm woke Warren Peace from sleep as it did every morning, his eyes slowly opening to blearily peer through the pre-dawn light. His sleep muddled brain, too tired to put up his usual walls of indifference, recognized the room as being safe. Letting his muscles remain limp and compliant, Warren ignored the heavy body that crawled over him to slam a hand on the clock. Mostly ignored it, since this particular stretch of naked skin had a way of capturing his attention, even when he was trying to be an asshole.

Half opening his eyes again, Warren focused on the naked man sitting on the edge of the bed. Scars covered a good portion of the California-tanned body even though they were in Cleveland. Observing intently as Xander Harris, self-proclaimed Zeppo and overall White Knight of the Watcher’s Council got up to prepare for the day.

The bastard son of a Hero and a Villain had never been attracted to men. Not even in the slightest, but this was more than that. It was near an obsession. An obsession with what had brought him closer to Xander in the first place. Marks that told of a past full of pain and agony.

Dark eyes roamed over raised tissue and deep indentions of countless scars. Watching as muscles flexed under flawed skin as Xander pulled on a pair of boxers before heading to the kitchen. Warren had run his fingers over every scar on the Watcher’s body after the lights went out and no one could see his movements. The fire-user himself had a few here and there, but nothing compared to what Xander had. Claws, teeth, knives and bullets. They all left their mark. Warren himself had never let someone close enough to get most of what Xander had.

His manipulation of fire kept a lot of friends away, not to mention enemies.

Warren lazily closed his eyes again now that he had nothing more to look at. Layla had been a nice and gentle girl. Able to fight under duress, but more like the vines she favored. Clinging to the walls, secretly infiltrating while you passed her off as part of the scenery. He hadn’t noticed until she was right there. Under his masks and walls. They’d parted ways after graduating from Sky High, still friends.

Even though a few years had gone by since then, she still contacted or jumped him when she was in town, dragging him off so she could gently pry all his secrets out into the open. This relationship or whatever he had with Xander was different. They took pot-shots at each other when the lights were on and everyone else was there. At night, when they were alone and neither could see each other, Warren willingly relaxed. Xander was no stranger to pain, to hardship. He understood and never once asked more than what Warren was willing to give.

It was strange how well he fit into this world of Vampires and Demons. Of pain and fighting. It was different than the world he had been born in, where Heroes were all sun-shine and daisies, where they always won and no one important ever died. The heroes of this world knew their own mortality, knew their weaknesses. They knew his, too, without him having to say anything. Yet they let him keep his façade of strength, while silently supporting him. Irritating, yet obviously just what he needed.

Cracking open an eye to see where Xander was, Warren blinked when he caught sight of the Watcher watching him. One eye a whiskey brown, Xander’s other eye nothing more than a sunken socket, a ruined mass of scar tissue that wasn‘t hidden by a patch yet. A reflexive scowl crossed Warren’s face as he sat up, grabbing the blanket that slid down his body to pool in his lap. A soft chuckle and a “morning sleeping beauty,” hidden behind a coffee mug was his only response.

Flicking a hand at Xander, Warren let flames dance over his fingertips in warning. “Call me that again and you’ll be a burn victim.” He growled, standing so he could start his morning routine as well. A quick flip through the dresser and closet brought forth boxers, jeans and a shirt. If he remembered right, he was going to be helping train Slayers today.

“Sure, Smokey the Bear.” Xander grinning, his eye leering as Warren disappeared into the bathroom. “Remember. Only you can prevent forest fires.”

The End

You have reached the end of "Scars". This story is complete.

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