In From The Cold 3

 

 

 

For once, Xander rolled out of bed the first time his alarm clock went off, and stretched until his spine popped. Resisting the urge to flop back into his bed, he dragged himself on with thoughts of *He said yes. William. Breakfast. Oh fuck, William. Breakfast.* And he was scheduled to work the afternoon shift, which meant he was dragging his ass in to work hours early to buy breakfast before William got there so he couldn't complain.

He shuffled into the bathroom and met his sleep-haunted eyes. "You have got it
bad, Harris."

The mirror didn't seem likely to object to this accusation, so Xander shuffled through his morning routine, gave breakfast at home a miss, locked each lock,
checked each lock, and his watch (twice), swore, and ran all the way to work, almost crashing into Buffy and a stack of trays when he got there.

"Oh. Is it time for another apocalypse?" She pouted, setting down the trays and folding her arms. "I just had my nails done!"

"Huh? And -
huh?"

Buffy waggled painted, polished, and pretty nails in front of his face. "You here this early for work is the first sign that the world is ending."

"Ha ha. I'll have you know I have a date. Here. Before work."

"Yep. The world's ending, all right," Faith said, easing up behind Buffy and giving Xander a sly grin. She looked him up and down, and the grin widened. "So what, Will has a thing for the uniform?"

"Not exactly. Do you, um, you think I could actually pretend this is my shift and then take kind of a long pretend break?"

Faith laughed. "What, you need him to see you in action to get him in the mood?"

Xander didn't laugh. "No, I need him to eat."

Faith frowned.

"I'll pay for the food," Xander said.

"Don't be an idiot. Take whatever's left under the warmer," Faith said, giving Xander a not so subtle shove toward the front. "Now, get out there on the register. I don't not pay you to stand around chatting."

Xander knew better than to rush his orders, no matter how much he wanted to finish his imaginary shift and get out back to meet Will. It was one of the first laws of reality in the fast food business: the faster you work, the more work you'll have to do.

And you won't get paid more for any of it.

Unless you're Faith.

But since Xander didn't want to see Faith going away any time soon, he worked at the pace he knew he could get away with, and watched the clock.

At ten-thirty, he turned around to look for Faith, only to find her right behind him, and yelped. "Jesus
Christ, Faith!"

"Here." She shoved a heavy bag that smelled of bacon, sausage, pancakes, eggs, and grease into his hands. The grease was probably the hash browns.

Actually, the grease was everything in there.

Small cholesterol bombs from heaven. "Thanks, Faith. You're a living doll."

"Sure am. And I'll kick the ass of anyone who says I'm not. Get outta here. And don't come back till after noon."

Xander stopped to shove two cups in a drink holder and fill them with coffee. He grabbed some sugar and cream packets, then headed out the back. When Xander stepped out and saw William standing under the warmth of the vent, he couldn't help the smile that came to his lips. And when William turned and met his eyes and smiled back…

Xander tried to keep his voice steady and manly as he offered William one of the cups. "How do you like your coffee?"

"Um, strong, dark, just a little sweet."

"The same way you like your men?"

William blushed and looked down, and Xander wanted to kick himself.

"Sorry, I, um… I shouldn't be allowed to talk."

"No, um, it's okay." William's eyes darted up and then down again. "And you're more than a little sweet."

Xander was amazed that such a soft and shyly offered comment could pack such a punch. It took a few moments of opening and closing his mouth before Xander managed to get actual words out.

"So, what d'you want? We have bacon, sausage, pancakes, eggs, and hash browns."

William was giving Xander a suspicious look. "All that was left on the warmer?"

Xander shrugged. "Fewer people were interested in clogging their arteries this morning than we anticipated. C'mon, dig in. It's getting cold."

"Surely all of this wouldn't have gone to waste...?"

"Crazy Larry's working the hot line this morning," Xander explained. "The guy's an egg'n muffin making machine." He passed William one of the sausage sandwiches and dug through until he came up with mini pancakes and syrup for himself. He realized that William was looking uncertainly at his food. "Don't like sausage?"

"No- no." William gave him another small smile. "I'm trying to decide whether you're trying to fatten me up or kill me with a heart attack."

Xander shrugged. "The health craze has not even
begun to alter our breakfast menu. I figure we'll be dishing doughnuts by spring." He knew he was babbling, but as long as he kept talking, William seemed content to eat. Small bites, painfully small bites, which Xander pretended not to notice. Talking with his mouth full without spraying William with crumbs was a valuable skill in Xan-land.

It was harder to ignore William's wet coughing, and his grimace every time he chased it with coffee.

But he kept talking, the words coming from wherever the words came from for Xander, and William kept eating until the muffin was gone and William sat, crumpling the wrapper back and forth between shaking hands.

"Maybe we should go inside where it's warmer," Xander suggested. "I can get you a refill on that coffee."

"No, I really shouldn't…"

"I can just leave you alone, you know, to write your poetry."

"No, it's not you. It's just. I mean, I should be getting back to… well, back."

Xander was desperate not to see William go. "Look, if it's about what happened yesterday, I'm sorry, okay. I didn't mean to… well…"

"No, no, it's not… that is, I… I didn't mind…"

But Xander didn't really hear, just kept talking. "You can just tell me to back off, you know. And I will. And it's not like I'm gonna stop giving you extra food or anything."

"You… you think I would… would let you… just so that I could…?"

And suddenly Xander was hearing Will loud and clear and fuck, that hadn't come out right. "No, Will. God, no. I didn't mean… Jesus, I
really shouldn't be allowed to talk. I mean, there should be laws and fines and possibly jail time and… I'm so sorry."

Then William was touching Xander's face, so gently, and Xander froze, hoping that if he kept perfectly still, the fingers would remain.

"Don't be sorry. It's I who should be apologizing. You've been nothing but kind. But I really do need to go."

And Xander still wasn't fully convinced that he hadn't fucked up royally, but then William was kissing him. A light kiss, shy, but not a hallucination, he was sure. Then, before Xander could even kiss back, William was pulling away and turning to go.

"Wait!" Xander caught William's arm and William turned and looked at him and there was pleading in those blue eyes and Xander wasn't sure if William was pleading to be let go or not to be. Xander held up the bag with the rest of the food. "Take this."

"I couldn't possibly…"

"Please?"

Their eyes held and, as William reached out and took the bag, their fingers brushed and Xander almost didn't let go of William's arm, but then William was tugging away and those blue eyes held an apology as he backed away and then turned and hurried off, both arms wrapped around the family-sized bag.

*At least in this weather, he won't have to worry whether they'll keep.* Xander watched until he was gone, not sure whether he was disappointed or not. William had stayed longer than any other visit behind the restaurant, but -

He'd left so
quickly.

A check of Xander's watch confirmed that it was only eleven, and since he had an ass kicking - or worse,
questions - waiting for him from Faith if he went in before noon, Xander tucked his hands into his pockets and started walking, unconsciously following in William's footsteps, but turning left toward the cemetery instead of right toward the park, once he reached the street.

It should have been the brightest part of the day, but the sky was overcast and gray and, as Xander walked, everything around him took on a sad, sinister tone. His eyes flitted over teenagers in twos and threes, leaning or sitting against buildings, layered in punk, interrupting their schooled expressions of apathy and contempt to offer the pedestrians bitter smirks meant to pass for supplicant smiles as they held their hands out for spare change. His gaze darted into corners and alleyways where it fell upon dirty, unshaven faces peeking out from behind tattered brown hats and scarves. Xander saw these people and watched as the men and women who passed in suits, skirts, and well appointed casual wear made sure to see nothing.

*What the hell are you doing, Harris? You think you're gonna save this kid with greasy food and cheap coffee?*

Another part of him answered,
*And who says he needs to be 'saved'? Maybe he just needs a friend.*

And yeah, Xander could do
that.

And if the friendship came with food, he figured William wouldn't object too much.

*Who are you kidding, Harris? It's not about friendship or food.*

So he could stop feeling guilty about that right now.

*You hear that, universe? Any time now. I'd like to stop feeling guilty about macking on the homeless boy...hello? Universe?*

Not like he expected an answer anyway.

 

 

 

 

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