Title: Immortal Convergence
Author: Kay
Email: kaygrr@hotmail.com
Feedback: Do you really want to see me beg?  My happy dance is way more
entertaining. Website:  ssfdu.tripod.com/kay/journal.htm  (Sandy rocks)
Archive: Hey, just ask first <g> Series: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Pairing:
Xander/Wesley, Xander/Wesley/Spike, Duncan/Methos, Giles/Richie...etc.
Rating: PG Sequel:  None Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the
characters of the show don't belong to me in anyway whatsoever. Mutant
Enemy, I live in envy of you.  The same goes for Highlander and Rysher -
they may be your toys, but I'm going to play with them.  Niener.  This
story is written for enjoyment, not for profit.  This whore only works for
feedback.  Litigation would be a waste of time, people. I'm a member of
the Starving Student Sect. _Summery:  A renegade immortal on the Hellmouth
puts Sunnydale in danger, and it's up to the Scooby Gang and some visitors
from Seacouver to put things right. Warnings:  spoilers up to Graduation
II...I think.  Xander returned from his summer a month ago, but that's
about it.  No Anya, no Tara (<sniff> I *like* Tara).  There is Riley,
though.  As for HL...say it with me people:  Richie isn't dead!  Let's
just pretend that in the next to last season, Ahriman was vanquished
without a certain never-to-be-mentioned incident occurring, K?  And the
final season of HL never happened, either.  Hell, if I'm going to be
messing about with the characters, why not mess around with time, too? <g>

Part Three/?

"Are those them?"  Xander leaned closer to Wesley and whispered his
question in his ear.

Wesley shivered a little at the feeling of warm air against his skin. 
"Yes," he whispered back.  "How do you want to do this?"

Xander grinned at him and pulled a notebook out of his back pocket as he
tucked a pen behind his ear.  "I think we'll go with Plan Nine."

"Which might as well be from outer space," Wesley muttered, shaking his
head.

"It's always worked before," Xander protested.

"Get going."  It was true; Xander's Plan Nine always worked.

"What, no kiss for luck?"

"No."  It was tempting...but no.  Wesley didn't want to start anything
right then.  It would be terribly embarrassing when they were unable to
stop and the Greshaks found them grappling in the bushes.

Xander pouted.  "It worked in Star Wars."

"Get going," Wesley repeated.  He smiled.  "If you finish this up quickly,
you might get your kiss then."

The way Xander scrambled out of the bushes was very gratifying.  Wesley
watched the other man approach the demons with a mixture of pride, worry,
and affection.  Xander had changed so much from the boy he'd been in high
school.  He was an adult now, a man.  He was no longer the gawky boy
Wesley had first met, ready with a constant stream of off-the-cuff jokes
and insults to hide a deep well of insecurity.  He still kept up a running
commentary no matter what he was doing, but now it was just an outgrowth
of Xander's special way of relating to life, rather than an adolescent
defense mechanism.  The way he had dedicated himself to protecting his
friends and keeping Sunnydale as safe as possible, the capable way in
which he handled himself; all this made Wesley almost feel like a Watcher
again as he helped Xander night after night.

He couldn't help worrying about Xander.  He knew that the other man was
Immortal, knew that he could recover from almost any injury.  While
Immortals hadn't been one of his main areas of study, he'd done some
research when he was in training.  Who wouldn't be interested in a race of
immortal beings indistinguishable from humans?  Wesley was sure that every
Watcher who read about them secretly fantasized about being one.  He knew
he wasn't; he'd brought it up to Xander, who'd assured him that he wasn't
like him.  Just because an Immortal couldn't be easily killed didn't mean
that he couldn't feel pain.  Wesley hated it that Xander could be hurt,
hated that the other man would take risks and get injured.  He'd been
horrified when he'd found out about the agonizing headaches Xander
suffered from being near the Hellmouth.  Although Xander had assured him
that he was used to the pain, Wesley had performed a spell to stop it.  It
wasn't easy; Wesley hadn't been in the habit of spell-casting, although he
was doing so regularly now.  It was worth the effort, though.  Knowing
that Xander wasn't hurting anymore was worth just about anything.

Watching Xander approach the demons, Wesley felt a smile tug irresistibly
at his lips.  He found himself smiling all the time now, and he knew that
it was due completely to Xander.  The younger man had helped to change
Wesley's outlook on life, his humor influencing Wesley's own attitude.

Of course, the fact that he was falling in love with Xander help quite a
bit, too.  He was rather enjoying the experience.  The growth of awareness
of each other, the tentative touches and fleeting glances, and the slow
burn of kindling desire:  they were all made new again in Xander's open
grins and teasing eyes.  He was sure Xander felt the same and the time was
almost right for them to take the next step.  They'd know when it was time
and until it came he was willing to wait and enjoy the ride.

Of course, they'd have to survive the Greshak before they could do any
real enjoying.  He leaned against the tree, ready to move if Xander needed
him.  From where he stood, he could see Xander's grin as the dark-haired
man approached the demons.

"Evening, fellas," Xander called, nodding pleasantly.  "New in town?"

"What do you want?" growled one of the pair.

"I'm on the Slayer's planning committee," was the easy answer.  He pulled
out the pen and held it to his pad of paper.  "I understand that you are
interested in killing her?"

The demons stared at him, utterly bemused as they nodded.

"Now, she's a busy lady, so we have to try to schedule these things in so
that everyone gets a fair shot at her.  If you're ready, we can do the
audition now."

"Audition?" one asked.

"Oh, yes.  You have to audition.  You didn't really think that you could
just come to town and jump her, did you?"  He laughed.  "No, you have to
audition first.  We have to make sure that you're up to her standards.  If
your attempt is going to be a joke, then she isn't going to waste her
time.  There are a lot of top-notch demons out there who deserve to have a
go at killing her."  He tucked away the pen and notebook.  "Are you
ready?"

As the demons exchanged confused glances, Xander struck.  He pulled a long
blade out of the back of his waistband and swung it hard, slicing through
the closest demon's arm in a single clean blow.  The Greshak howled, but
Xander was already moving on to the other, stabbing forward and catching
it in the gut.  A few more carefully controlled motions and both the
demons were down and Xander was barely breathing hard.

Wesley approached him.  "I hate Plan Nine."

"Yeah, but it always works," Xander said, wiping the blade clean and
putting it away.  "It confuses them..."  His voice trailed away as he
carefully turned around, scanning the area around them.  "Someone's
coming," he said shortly.  "I can feel them."

"Feel them?"  Shit.  Immortals.  Wesley looked around and spotted several
men coming toward them.  "Them?"

Xander nodded shortly.  Wesley moved closer to him, hands hanging loosely
by his sides.  He didn't know what to expect, but he would be ready.  He
had a gun tucked away at the small of his back and he wouldn't hesitate to
use it if it would save Xander.  He sized up the men that approached them:
 all of them looked dangerous, capable and ready for trouble.

The one with long hair held back in a tail stepped forward.  "What do you
think you're doing?  There's no killing on holy ground!"

Wesley realized with start that the man was right - the cemetery they were
in was technically holy ground.  They spent so much time hunting down
vampires and other creatures in Sunnydale's graveyards that he had
forgotten that.  After a while, it got hard to see a place of so much
death as holy.

Xander cocked his head to the side.  "Now, I'm not real clear on the rules
for our little club, but I'm pretty sure the no fighting thing only
applies to us, not to when we fight with others."  He shot a glare at the
red-haired man.  "I told you to leave town, not come back and bring
friends."

The thin man shrugged, his hands shoved deep in his coat pockets.  "We
didn't give him a chance."  There was something about his voice that
tugged at Wesley's memory, as if he'd heard it once before.  The little
tickle of recognition refused to become anything more than a tickle so
Wesley pushed it to the back of his mind.  He'd give it time to develop on
its own.  The man continued speaking.  "We need to talk with you."  He
glanced over at Wesley.  "Privately."

"Are you looking for a fight?" Xander asked.

"No," the long-haired man said.  "Watch what you say - this is a private
matter.  For members of our club, as you put it."

"Wes stays."  Xander's chin poked out obstinately.

"Not this time.  This is important and it needs to stay quiet."

Wesley reached out and took Xander's hand in his own.  "We don't keep
secrets from each other," he said quietly.  Xander's hand tightened around
his, signifying Xander's acceptance of his plan.  Claming to be lovers
would cut down on the objections that the strangers would raise.  Now he
just had to concentrate on the situation instead of the feeling of the
callused fingers curled so warmly around his.

The strangers exchanged glances, clearly not certain of how to proceed. 
Xander sighed.  "If all you want is to talk, then let's get out of here. 
I really don't feel like fighting off every energy-sucker in town."

"What?" asked the redhead.

"Can we get going now and get talking later?"  Xander's voice was level,
but Wesley could feel his worry through the shifting of his fingers.  He
could feel nervousness rising in himself.  Demons were attracted to the
power within Xander, leading them to focus on him in a fight.  They rarely
sought him out on their own; he just didn't have enough power within in
him to draw their attention to that degree.  If Xander was worried about
the men around them attracting demons, then they must be powerful indeed. 
Wesley wasn't worried about the demons so much as he was wary of the
Immortals.  How powerful were they?  How much of a threat to Xander did
they pose?

"We really should be leaving town," the thin man said.

"What, because of the Hellmouth?" Wesley asked.  He raised an eyebrow at
the strangers' surprise.  "You're right; we need to talk.  Let's get off
the street."  He and Xander led the way back to their apartment in a
round-about fashion, walking off to the side of them so they could keep an
eye on them.

Wesley kept a hold of Xander's hand the entire time, fingers laced through
the other man's as they walked side by side through the night.

*****