Title: Immortal Convergence...but that's subject to change 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 Series: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Pairing: Xander/Wesley, Xander/Wesley/Spike, Duncan/Methos, Giles/Richie...etc. Rating: NC-17 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 ( 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? Four/? Xander motioned toward the sofa and chair even as he sank down into his favorite armchair. He didn't miss the fact that the other Immortals didn't sit down until he did. Even the older man, the mortal, was careful in sitting down, not letting down his guard for a moment. That was fine; Xander might be sprawled in his chair but that didn't mean he wasn't holding himself ready. Wes sat down on the arm of his chair, sitting close to offer support and to hover protectively over him as he stared suspiciously at the other men. Xander decided to give into impulse and he reached out a hand and lightly rested it on Wesley's thigh. He caught the Englishman's surprised look and grinned up at him. Wes had surprised him with his claim to be lovers, but he'd understood the other man's reasoning. Now that they had established the lie, there was no harm in acting the part, was there? Wes smiled back at him and Xander squeezed his leg gently before turning his attention back to the men watching him. "Let's get started. I don't want to draw this out too long." "What, you've got plans we're keeping you from?" the mortal guy asked. "There are some special hazards for our kind in Sunnydale. I'd rather not have to deal with them tonight." Xander sighed. "I'm Xander, this is Wesley." He nodded toward the redhead. "You, I've met before, but I didn't catch your name." "I'm Richie," the other man answered. "This is Joe," indicating the bearded mortal, "Adam," the thin man, "and Mac." Xander's gaze raked over each man as he was introduced. Richie still came across as good-natured, if somewhat guarded. Judging by the way he talked as well as by the buzz Xander could sense from him, he really wasn't that much older than Xander. Joe seemed intent, but Xander could see that most of the lines around his eyes were from smiling rather than from pain. He gave off a solid 'good guy' vibe that Xander wanted to be able to trust. The other two men were harder to judge. Adam gave off a buzz that threatened to set Xander's head spinning: it was full of seductive and frightening power, a strange sensation to emanate from a man who slouched unassumingly in a chair. His face was blank, but his gaze was sharp. Mac gave off almost as powerful a feeling, but he was more obvious about it, carrying himself like a warrior. "Duncan McLeod of the McLeod," the long-haired man elaborated. Xander considered whipping out his middle name as some sort of counter, but decided against it. He wasn't certain any of these guys had a sense of humor. He decided to settle for getting down to business. "I'm guessing you're in town because of the Hellmouth?" Duncan shook his head. "Who was your teacher? You claim not to know the rules that govern the Game, but you know about the Hellmouth?" "My teacher wasn't an Immortal." Not exactly. He didn't want to dwell on that, didn't want to drag Angel into this if he could help it. "Besides, I grew up in Sunnydale. I went to high school right on top of the Hellmouth. Ate lunch with the Slayer almost every day, even." "The Slayer?" Richie asked, obviously confused. "A human who is called to fight vampires," Adam said quickly. Wesley's hand covered Xander's, tightening gently in warning. Xander turned his hand over and laced his fingers through the other man's. How did Adam know so much? What the hell were these guys doing in Sunnydale? He didn't want to sit here and exchange obscure supernatural trivia with them all night - he was starting to get seriously worried about having them in the apartment. Wes had performed a spell of warding after they'd moved in to help shield the sense of Xander's Quickening from anything outside in attempt to avoid attacks by anything seeking his power. Xander trusted in Wesley's ability, but the combined power of Adam and Duncan was making him nervous. He didn't want the warding to fail; this was his home and he didn't feel like having it targeted by demons because of these guys. Adam focused his attention on Xander, his gaze penetrating, forceful. "Who was your teacher? How did a human teach you and let you fall in with the Slayer?" "I met the Slayer in high school, before I knew what I was. We're friends. And I never said my teacher was a human." Xander was ready to try to babble his way around the question, but Wesley took over the conversation for him. "We need to hurry this up. My warding won't be able to stand up to the amount of power of all of you in the same room." "What, we're going to start attracting vampires?" Richie grinned. "They'll sit and swarm around outside, like moths?" "Vampires won't much care," Xander said. "It's the other ones you have to watch out for. The ones that will ambush you as a pack and tear your head off so they can siphon off your Quickening for their own use. And since I have to live here, I'd rather not have them hanging around outside. It makes going to the grocery store a little more hazardous than fresh milk is worth. You guys have got to get out of town." Duncan shook his head. "I don't understand." "The Quickening can be sensed by more than just Immortals," Adam said. "Some creatures, some demons, can sense it, as well. Some of them are able to take a Quickening. They don't do it like we do, but they still use the power for their own purposes and you end up just as dead." "Beyond that, the Quickening just attracts a lot of demons. They don't even seem aware of it, but they are aware of you more than mortals and that makes you way more likely to end up fighting for your life." Xander shrugged. "Then there are the humans who will try to steal the power for use in magic, although the guy we usually have to watch out for isn't in town right now." "If it's so dangerous, how did you last growing up here?" Duncan challenged. "I told you, I'm friends with the Slayer. I'm usually with her when we run into the bad guys so they end up being distracted by her." "How do you deal with this headache?" Richie asked, rubbing at his forehead. "When you grow up with something, sometimes it's hard to even know it's there." He wasn't going to tell them he didn't feel it anymore, thanks to Wes. He didn't know these guys, so he was going to keep that little advantage to himself, thanks. Besides, it was true; before he left Sunnydale on his road trip, he'd never actually left the Hellmouth before. It had taken him awhile to figure out why he felt so different on the road: he'd been living in pain for so long that he'd been unaware of it until it was gone. It had been hard, coming back to Sunnydale, knowing that he was going to have to feel it again, but he'd been determined. He pulled Wesley's hand closer him. Thank god for Wes. Wesley stood up. "I think it's time for you to go. We can continue this conversation later, if we have to." Xander nodded as he glanced at the clock. "The sun's going to be coming up soon." The other men reluctantly stood. "The Hellmouth is a dangerous place for an Immortal," Joe said. "You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't have come back after you died your first death." "No one knew I was dead," Xander said. "And the Hellmouth is dangerous for everyone." He picked up his jacket. "We'll walk you back to your hotel." Out on the street, Adam fell in step beside him. "There are other dangers for an Immortal on the Hellmouth," he said quietly. "I know," Xander said simply. He wondered which one the Immortal was referring to. "Like Quickenings refusing to settle?" Yeah, that was it, judging by Adam's startled look. Xander had figured it out, based on his past experiences with possession. Quickenings didn't settle right on the Hellmouth; it was like the other person fought the new possessor of the Quickening, refusing to lie quiet even though they'd died. It had taken a lot of concentration and some guided meditation at Wesley's hands to help him get the few Quickenings he'd taken in LA to finally settle. Xander knew he could never risk taking another Immortal's head on the Hellmouth: he wouldn't be sure of being able to maintain control, after. "I know it's dangerous. I grew up here, remember? I'm careful, I know how to handle myself. I can do a lot of good here." "You shouldn't have come back. After your first death, you should have just moved on, made a new life for yourself. People are going to notice when you don't age. And if you're involved with the Slayer, sooner or later you're going to get hurt. What will you tell them when you're healed the next day?" "You know, I'm not really worried about that. The mayor turned into a giant lizard demon in the middle of my high school graduation and I sort of blew up the school in the process of killing him. Didn't even make the front page of the newspaper. I can't really see me not aging drawing all that much attention." Warm fingers crept around his and he smiled at Wesley. He was beginning to think that Wesley's hand in his was going to be a required part of his walking from now on. "My best friends are the Slayer, a witch, and a werewolf. We've got a former vengeance demon hanging around with us and don't get me started on the women I've dated. I'm pretty sure my friends are going to be able to handle the fact that I'm an Immortal." "You haven't told them yet, then." The other man's gaze was thoughtful, as if he was weighing more than just Xander's words, was weighing his thoughts and soul as well. "Hasn't come up yet. I'm not going to tell them until I have to. I want to enjoy being Normal Guy for a little while longer." He lifted his chin a little. "And there's no way I'm going to leave here, not while people I care about are out risking their lives every night. Not when I can help make sure that they make it through the night." "The Hellmouth..." "I know it's dangerous, all right? I figured out life here wasn't going be easy or safe when I watched my best friend turn to dust around the stake I plunged into his chest!" Xander took a deep breath. "I'm not stupid. I know better than to take a Quickening here. Immortals don't come here, anyway. The headache is enough to keep them away." Adam didn't reply, apparently lost in thought. That was fine with Xander. He'd rather just walk along and revel in the feeling of being so close to Wes, anyway. He shot a grateful look at the other man. He'd let Xander handle the conversation his own way, and the trust in him that revealed warmed him to his core. They passed a fairly large strip mall as they headed toward the hotel. Xander winced as they drew near the center of it. His head began to ring with the feeling of another Immortal's presence. He shot an accusing glare at the newcomers. "You didn't mention bringing another friend." "We didn't," Duncan protested. "Then who the hell is over there?" Wesley asked, gun in his hand. He let go of Xander's hand but stepped closer to him. "I don't know," Duncan ground out. Xander stayed close to Wes as he scanned the center, searching for movement. "There." He pointed to a man exiting one of the closed shops. The stranger was short, with blond hair that tumbled down into his eyes as he stepped out onto the sidewalk. He wore a black shirt that laced up the front and knee high leather boots. "Any particular reason he's dressed like a pirate?" Xander muttered. "Why don't you ask him?" Wesley suggested. "K." Xander raised his voice. "Ahoy, there!" The blond's head shot up and his eyes widened as he took in the men facing him from across the street. "No!" he yelled. "You cannot have me yet! Not when I am so close!" He raised his hands and began to chant in a hissing language. "Spell," Wesley shouted. "Move!" He grabbed Xander's arm and began to run for the other end of the building. Xander didn't need to be told twice. Whatever that guy was working on, he didn't want to get his with it. He threw a glance back over his shoulder and saw the other Immortals just standing there. Swearing, he turned around and headed back toward them. He could see flashes of light swirling around the chanting man's hands and knew they were out of time. He barreled into Joe, figuring he was the most vulnerable. "Get down!" he yelled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wesley knock Richie and Duncan over with a flying tackle toward their legs. Adam dropped to the ground as stinking fire blast through the air where he had been standing a moment before. Xander shielded his eyes from the glare. When it had past, he looked back toward the blond man but he was gone, running off while they were all distracted. Xander shoved himself to his feet. "What part of 'move' do you people not understand?" he demanded, reaching out to help Joe stand. "How were we supposed to know he'd do that?" Richie asked. "What the hell was that?" "A spell," Xander said shortly. "You're on the Hellmouth. If you don't start expecting shit like that, you're not going to last long. Another good reason for you to go home." He stalked over to where Wesley was standing. "Are you all right?" He ran his hands over Wesley's arms, gaze raking over his body to check for injuries. "I'm fine." "No, you're not." Wesley blinked. "I beg your pardon?" "What were you thinking? You could've been hurt!" "I could ask you the same thing!" Wesley grabbed him by the shoulders. "You had no way of knowing what sort of spell that was. He could have killed you." Pale eyes stared furiously into Xander's own. Xander hated this. He absolutely hated it, and there was nothing he could do about it. He hated that Wesley could be hurt, hated that he worried the other man. It was a part of living in Sunnydale, a part of the life and fight they had chosen for themselves, and there was nothing he could do to change it, but he hated it all the same. He could read understanding in Wesley's eyes, and knew that the other man felt the same way. He sighed and looked over at the others, not stepping away from Wesley's warm hands. "Any of you know that guy?" "I think I do," Richie said. "If he's the guy I think his is, I ran into him a few years ago. He was a little weird - heavily into the whole Dungeons and Dragons scene, you know? All knights and wizards and fantasy. I couldn't understand it; life is weird enough without trying to bring all that into it." "Looks like he's trying to make his fantasy a reality." Wesley gestured toward the store the Immortal had exited. "The Magic Shop. I think he's trying to develop skills in magic." "Trying? It looked to me like he succeeded," Joe protested. Wesley shook his head. "That was rudimentary. Anyone who can memorize the chant can fling Kreslir's Fire around." "Anyone can do magic?" Duncan asked skeptically. "No," Adam answered, in unison with Wesley. The thin man offered up a half-smile. "You have to have an innate affinity and talent for it to go beyond a few simple incantations." "Tossing spells around, breaking into the Magic Shop, the way he dresses...this guy is trouble," Xander said. "Where should we look for him?" Duncan asked. "We? *We* aren't going to do anything. You're going to go back to your hotel, pack, and leave town. This isn't a part of your Game. This is Hellmouth business." He was tempted to declare that it was a job for the Scooby Gang, but he wanted these men to take him seriously. "No way am I leaving an out-of-control Immortal magician on the Hellmouth," Joe said. "Oh, the way is easy," Wesley said with that smooth British sarcasm that Xander loved. "Go back home. This isn't your concern. You don't know enough to duck when someone throws a spell at you; you're only going to be in the way here." Xander took in the stubborn stares directed toward them and sighed. "Fine. At least go back to your hotel and rest. I'll go talk to the professionals and when we have a plan, I'll give you a call and let you know what's going on and how you can help." "See you soon, then," Duncan said. "Absolutely," Xander promised. Like hell he'd call. Hopefully, they'd be able to take care of this wannabe the next night, and then he could call these guys and tell them to go home. He watched them walk away and looked over at Wesley. "Home?" "Please," Wesley answered with a tired grin. Xander reached out as they walked and caught Wesley's hand. The smile on the other man's face was beautiful: Xander was going to try to make it appear more often. Once they were back home, Xander set himself to putting away the weapons he'd taken out with him. He looked up as he finished and caught Wesley staring at him. "What?" A slight flush stained the other man's cheeks. "You don't seem to mind that I told them we were lovers." A small smile quirked his lips. "I was hoping you wouldn't." Xander straightened and crossed the room to stand in front of Wesley. "How could I mind?" He reached out and gently brushed his fingers across the line of Wesley's jaw. "It actually isn't that far off from the truth." He leaned forward until his lips were only a fraction of an inch from Wesley's. "I do love you." He smiled into Wesley's eyes before he pressed his lips to his mouth. The first touch was hesitant, the merest brush of lips. Wesley's warmth and the elusive taste of him from that barely-there contact wasn't enough for Xander. He wanted more; he needed more. He moved forward again, seeking firmer contact. Soft lips yielded against his, parting to admit his questing tongue. Wesley's tongue slid wetly against his own, sweet friction that ignited a fire in Xander. Strong arms wrapped around his waist as Wesley pulled him hard up against his body. Xander moaned happily into the kiss, sliding his fingers into Wes's back pockets. He thrust his hips forward against the other man's, feeling Welsey's hard length against his hip. Wesley pulled away from the kiss to lave a wet path to Xander's ear. "Love you, too," he husked into Xander's ear, nipping at the lobe. "Love you." Xander shivered at the feel of damp breath on his skin, at the scent of Wesley filling his senses, at the sound of the words. He couldn't believe they had waited so long for this: Wesley felt so right in his arms, the weight of him making Xander feel more whole than he could ever remember. "Bedroom," Wesley suggested, hands sliding up under Xander's shirt. "Yours is closer." "Yours had a bigger bed." Good point. Xander refused to relinquish his hold on Wesley, preferring to walk awkwardly to his room rather than let him go. The other man didn't mind at all: his arms stayed around Xander for the entire journey as well. Once in the bedroom, he concentrated on stripping away Wesley's clothes. The Englishman wasn't one for bachelor guy lounging: no wandering around the apartment wearing nothing but a pair of boxers for him. Damn it. Xander wanted to see what he was hiding under those clothes, wanted to see for himself the body he had begun to map with his hands. He muttered impatiently when his own shirt was pulled up over his head; sure, he wanted to be naked too, but it was blocking his view of Wesley. Long limbs, ropy with the muscles of a runner, winter pale skin, light dusting of hair: it was better than Xander had imagined. After both their clothing had been tossed to the floor, Xander pushed Wesley down onto the bed and crawled on top of him. He leaned down and scraped his teeth over the surface of a prominent collar bone. Wesley arched upward into the touch, fingers twining in Xander's hair to pull him closer. "No teasing, Xan. Not this time," Wesley murmured, one hand snaking down so he could rub his palm over Xander's erection. Gasping his agreement, Xander settled himself on top of Wesley, stretching out so that their erections were aligned as he began to thrust against his lover. Teasing could be fun, but not right now. Not this time. Wesley pulled Xander's head down and caught his mouth in a consuming kiss that tasted of love and need and growing desperation. Both men moved faster and faster, driving each other toward completion. Xander shuddered as he came, moaning Wesley's name into his mouth. Beneath him, Wesley thrust up a final time with convulsive power, bathing Xander in his seed. Limbs tangled together, they lay panting on the bed. Xander rolled to the side of Wesley, one arm wrapped possessively around his waist. Nuzzling gently at a pale shoulder, he murmured, "We should get cleaned up." "Not right now." Wesley's arms tightened around Xander and he kissed him lingeringly. "Not right now," Xander agreed, settling himself down to enjoy the feeling of finally holding the man he loved in his arms. *****