FIC: A New World (13/?)
Xander nodded approvingly as he followed Faith into the back of the stretch limo. He noted the sumptuous leather seating, the ice bucket complete with champagne bottle, and the CD player playing gentle mood music through the car’s state of the art music system. This was the way to treat a girl.
The way he’d have treated Anya if he’d had the opportunity.
Forcing aside his souring mood, Xander leaned forward and pushed aside the panel in the partion separating him and Faith from their chauffer. “Drive on Parker,” he instructed.
“And does,” G-Man glared back at him, the chauffeur’s peaked cap resting uncomfortably on the Englishman’s head, “that make you Lady Penelope?”
“Tsk, tsk,” Xander shook his head, secretly enjoying the older man’s discomfort. “Can’t get good help these days.” The Council head had gone postal when Deadboy had mentioned that part of his plan included Giles acting as their chauffer. To Deadboy’s credit he’d taken Giles’ outburst in his stride, pointing out that he and Faith needed to project a certain image and turning up in a taxi wouldn’t cut it. Then Captain HairGel countered Giles’ demand as to why it had to be him by pointing out that the Immortal might recognise him, Connor was too young to convincingly play the role, and in machismo-filled Italy female chauffeurs would stand out, leaving the Englishman as the only viable candidate.
“You okay X?”
He started at Faith’s whisper in his ear. “I’m just a little tense,” he admitted. After a breath, he closed the partion and sat back.
“Don’t be,” Faith smiled and squeezed his shoulder. “It’ll work out.”
“Yeah,” Xander hesitated. Deciding to take an opportunity offered by the privacy, he brought up a thorny subject that had been troubling him since the attack on the Council. “You should ease up on G-Man.”
Her eyes hardening, Faith pulled her hand away, leaving him with a surprising sense of loss. “Why the fuck should I?” the Bostonian almost snarled.
Xander hid a wince at the Slayer’s ferocity. “Because he’s lost people too. Two girls who were like daughters -.”
“Yeah,” if anything the east coast Slayer’s tone chilled still further. “Wouldn’t know much about that, seeing as he never treated me as any better than the shit off his shoe.”
Xander leaned back against his seat. Ah, there was the rub. When she had Wood Faith had been happy, able to ignore her justifiable resentment towards them. But with the former Sunnydale Principal gone, those feelings had returned with a vengeance. “Just give him another chance,” he pleaded.
“Why the hell should I?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do?” Faith’s eyes didn’t soften. “Because running on all this anger got you into trouble the first time.”
After a second Faith nodded brusquely. “I’ll think about it.”
Xander grinned; pleased with the grudging acquiescence he’d received. “That’s my Slayer.”
* * *
Xander gulped as their transport smoothly halted outside the nightclub. “Relax X,” Faith elbowed him in the ribs. “Remember it’s all about ‘tude.”
“Yeah,” Xander muttered in reply. “Shame I don’t have one.”
Faith sighed. “Look X, remember those jocks who used to kick your ass at high school?” He nodded reluctantly; he was hardly likely to forget them. “Make like you’re one of them. You’re better than everybody else. After all,” Faith broke from her coaching to wink at him, “you’ll be walking into the joint with the hottest babe in the damn place on your arm.”
“Really?” Xander looked around the back of the shadowy limo. “When is she getting here – owww!”
He rubbed at the ear where Faith had just attempted to pull it off at. One eye, one ear missing. They weren’t even on the same side, how unlucky could he get? “Not funny,” Faith scolded. The brunette looked up at the opening door. “Let’s rock ‘n’ roll.”
“Good luck, and be careful.”
Xander nodded his thanks to Giles before wrapping a possessive arm around his companion’s tiny waist, pulling her towards him. “Oh Luke,” the Slayer breathlessly giggled in a most unFaithlike manner. “You’re so masterful!” The Bostonian leaned into him, whispering in his ear under the guise of kissing his cheek, her breath hot against his cheek. “Remember X, ‘tude.”
”Sure.” A sneer on his face, Xander strode towards the club entrance, conscious of the glares from those queuing to get into the night-spot. Soon they were at the club’s glass double-doors, the portal blocked by a trio of hulking bouncers, two standing over six foot, the third much shorter but even wider across the shoulders and thicker in the chest than his compatriots. “Hi boys!” he smirked at the three mammoths. “You can open the doors and tell everyone who’s anyone the party’s ready to start because Luke Archer’s here!” He threw his head back and whooped enthusiastically while slapping Faith on her well-rounded ass. He winced at the poorly-concealed glower his friend shot him. Maybe he was getting into character a little too much.
“There’s a queue sir,” the shortest of the three bouncers said in poorly-accented English, a bullet-headed thug only a couple of inches taller than Faith but more than twice her weight. One of the other bouncers, his leering eyes not leaving Faith, leaned over and whispered something in quick-fire Italian into his fellow security guard’s ear. After a second, the man nodded and stepped to one side. “Go in.”
“You must hate when guys look at you like that?” Xander commented as he safely ushered his partner past the guards and into the club foyer.
“Not as much as when they slap my ass,” Faith deadpanned before turning serious. “Like I’m a piece of meat?” The Slayer shrugged. “Got used to guys wondering they could afford a piece years ago. At least now I’ve got my powers in case some prick starts something.”
“Yeah,” Xander distracted himself from the matter-of-fact way his companion hinted at her awful past by looking around their new surroundings. “It sure beats the Bronze.”
Glittering globes hung from the ceiling, reflecting the strobe lighting that danced around the room. Plush Persian carpet covered the floor, apart from the spacious wood-panelled area in the centre of the bar set aside for dancing. The bar, Xander glanced over to his right, looked to be well-stocked and staffed by bright young things of both genders wearing tight-fitting uniforms of black shorts and crop tops. Even the clientele was of a better class, awkward teenagers replaced by cool European sophisticates dancing to the latest of Euro techno-pop.
Man, he felt out of place.
“Look up there,” Faith bellowed in his ear. “In the VIP area. There he is.”
Xander glanced up casually. In the balcony area, flanked by a pair of gorillas the twins of the bouncers outside the club and several dotted around it, there sat a fine-featured, slender man who looked to be anywhere from twenty to thirty years his senior, dressed in a custom-made suit. He turned at a nudge in his side to see Faith miming drinking. “What do you want?” he bellowed in an effort to be heard over the club’s blaring sound system.
Faith’s nose wrinkled. “You know me, I’m a JD girl, but as I’m channelling Queen C right about now, it’ll have to be bubbly.”
Xander hid a wince. Angel had chipped in some money, but even so, the IDs, hotel rooms, cars, and plane tickets had already eaten considerably into his savings, to the point he could almost hear Anya nagging at him for frivolous spending. Despite that inner voice he didn’t mind the expense, just worried that they’d run out before this was over. And the prices in a place like this, Xander took another look at the top-line furnishings and décor, had to be sky-high. Finally he nodded. “Sure.”
Taking a breath, he started to push his way through the crowd, ignored the glares and protests he got as he dragged Faith behind him by her wrist. When they arrived at the bar, Faith chuckled in his ear. “Very cro-mag Xan, you getting into the role?”
“Not hardly,” Xander grimaced. He was attempting to act as a mixture of Parker Ahams and Percy West, two people he’d always despised. Turning his attention back to the bar, he slammed his fist on the counter. “A bottle of your best champagne!” he roared.
A few minutes later they were sat by the dance area, sipping at the champagne. It tasted great, but then at $500 a bottle it should. Faith looked over his shoulder, a hungry gleam entering her eyes. “Time for stage 2 of the plan.”
Faith grinned at him. “What did you think when you first saw me dance?”
“Ah. Gah. Wow. Oh boy. Drool.”
“’Xactly,” Faith winked. “And so will our target, time to reel him in.” The Bostonian grabbed his wrist and yanked him to his feet. “Come on.”
“Me.” Xander’s remaining eye almost popped out of its socket. “I can’t dance!”
“You don’t have to,” Faith looked to be enjoying his discomfort waaay too much. “Think of yourself as a pole dancer’s pole.”
“Do poles often drool?” Xander felt the blood drain from his face, this sounded bad, very bad. “But-.” Any further protests were cut off by the Slayer dragging him onto the dance floor.
The brunette spun around to face him, a smile playing on her full lips. “Put your hands on my waist.” After a second he obeyed. The Bostonian’s smile widened as she looped her hands around the back of his neck. “Just go with the flow X.”
His companion began to sway her slender hips to the pounding beat, the sight hypnotising, as the dress shifted and moved, giving him tantalising glimpses of the Slayer’s athletic legs beneath. His mouth dried as the Slayer moved closer, her lithe body grinding against him, still in tune to the music. Finally she turned her back on him. Pressing her butt against his groin, she began to slowly rotate it, making him groan with desire. Anya had never danced like this.
* * *
The Immortal smiled as he watched the braided beauty’s mesmerisingly sensual dance. He’d always been of the opinion that the best dancers were the best lovers. And if that was the case, he was in for quite the weekend. He smiled as he turned to his chief bodyguard. “Bring her to me.”
* * *
The moment the record ended, Faith turned and stared thoughtfully at him. The Slayer reached up, almost tentatively, and ran a finger up his face before tousling his hair. “X,” she muttered. “I think I’m gonna-.” He was surprised when Faith crushed her lips to his, easing her tongue into his mouth with practised ease even as she started to massage his shoulders. After a second he began to instinctively respond, working his own tongue into his partner’s mouth while wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her closer, and running his fingers through her hair, marvelling at its silkiness. He was disappointed when the brunette pulled away, her expression confused. “Shit, I -.”
“Madam,” Xander looked up from his companion to see she was now flanked by a pair of the club’s bouncers. “The club’s owner would like to meet you.”
“Yeah?” After a half-second, the Bostonian’s face regained its customary confidence. “Who’s he?” the bouncer pointed towards the Immortal. Faith smirked. “Nice,” the east coast native turned back to him. “See you stud, I’m moving up to the big leagues.”
Remembering his role, Xander scowled. “Hey bitch! I’ve spent plenty of money on you tonight.” Raising a fist, he stepped towards the supernatural warrior but retreated when the bouncers blocked his path. “Fine!” he snarled. “Money-grabbing tramp!” Spinning around, he stormed out of the club and hurried down the street.
He started slightly at the vampire’s anxious voice drifting out of the shadows. When was Deadboy going to be fitted with a bell? “She’s in,” he confirmed. God, he hoped things worked out.