Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to us. Neither Firefly nor B:TVS. 'Course you guys already know we claim the insanity.Some say my biggest weakness, I have my reasons.
Call it my defense. Be careful what you're wishing.... Garbage
Faith glared at the preacher as he taunted her. His mocking tones echoing through the vineyard.
“I like to keep things simple. Good folk, bad folk, clean folk, dirty folk…,” Caleb paused feeling someone approaching his back.
He whirled around ready to put another of the little whores into her place, and froze. “Well, now huh…”
Xander stilled as the dark eyes locked on him, feeling the inexplicable urge to cover up. Despite the fact he was fully clothed.
“I knew there was ugly folk about. Nobody said anything about pretty folk,” murmured Caleb studying the handsome young man. He casually swatted one of the potentials trying to sneak up on him.
Xander looked around confused for a second, then back at the preacher. “What? Are you talking to me?”
“Most certainly, I am,” said Caleb. He stepped closer, pausing only to backhand Buffy once again. “Now, she didn’t say nothing about the One Who See’s being the pretty one.”
Xander swallowed hard. He had no idea what to do. But he figured if the preacher’s attention being focused on him kept him from killing any more potentials, well he’d deal with it. “Uh she who?”
“The First. I work toward her glory. But it seems she was keeping some of that glory for herself,” he growled out taking another step closer.
Xander ignored the thrill creeping up his spine as Caleb gave him a long, hard look. Caleb's gaze traveling him from head to toe and then back again. He began muttering prayers beneath his breath. He’d never slept with the enemy, unlike some people he could name. Who’d done it not once but twice. But if this man did not quit looking at him like that, it was going to lead to all kinds of naughty, wrong thoughts. “I don’t suppose you’d like to leave and take that issue up with your employer?”
Caleb gave a sad kind of sigh, knocking Spike clear across the room. “Well, now it might not rightly be her fault. Daddy always said resist the apple but he never said it’d look like you.”
“Oookay,” muttered Xander. Here was obviously a man, never mind he was all kinds of attractive, who seriously had issues. “Listen, I don’t mean to be an apple. Cause you obviously have fruit issues, why don’t you head home take the rest of the night to think about it?” Xander suggested hopefully.
“I’ve got a better idea,” said Caleb moving faster than any of them had thought possible as he shoved Xander against the wall.
Xander hissed as his back hit the stones, making a futile effort to get free until one big hand grasped his face.
Caleb stared down into the whiskey colored eyes. Lifting one hand, he skimmed a finger over the brow. He ignored the bothersome whores at his back, kicking out a leg at a persistently annoying one. He leaned in closer, kicking Xander’s legs apart and moved to stand between them. “Why don’t I just get rid of all these harlots and take you home?” Lips ghosting over Xander’s cheek as he turned his head.
“With the luck I’ve been having, I would probably take you up on that offer if you weren’t evil. Evil with a capital E. ‘Cause it’s not like those in our merry band haven’t consorted with the little evils,” muttered Xander. “However, it is not to be ‘cause big E.”
“Well now that might be a problem,” growled Caleb. “Then again I might be able to make you come,” he murmured, grinding his hips into Xander’s, “round my way a'thinkin.”
Xander whimpered, eyes closing involuntarily. “Gods, I wish you weren’t evil.”
It felt like cold lightening lit his every nerve for what felt like an eternity trapped in an minute, then there was thunder with no sound.
Xander moaned grabbing his head. What the hell had that crazy preacher done? Even though his lids felt like they’d been weighed down by sandbags, he slowly opened his eyes. And okay this was new, he was definitely not in the vineyard any longer. He didn’t think it was an illusion as he could feel the brightly patterned rug beneath his knees. He stared at the boots in front of him for another long minute before figuring he’d better see who they belong to.
Brown boots. Tan pants. Tight tan pants. Empty holster. Oh, not good. Blue shirt. And…
“Fuck me,” moaned Xander staring up into Caleb’s face.
Mal stared down momentarily speechless at the dark haired man who’d appeared literally out of nowhere at his feet. “Huh…”