Letting Go

By RubyWisp

Xander's exhausted. He feels the weariness deep in his bones, like he's 71 instead of 21.

He can't do it anymore. Can't keep being what everybody else wants him to be. Can no longer stretch himself across the chasms of pain that appear in his friends' lives, offering up his jokes, his laughter, his self-mocking wit in an attempt to make their crossings easier.

He's stretched to the breaking point -- if he doesn't pick himself up and let them walk on their own soon, they're all going into the gulf with him when he falls.

So he leaves one weekend. Just for a while, he tells himself, tells them. He'll be back for work, he just needs a few days. A little space. A little time to let the dust settle and the smoke clear.

Packs the car and doesn't know where he's going until he reaches L.A. Cringes a little - he doesn't want to run into anybody he knows, but L.A. is a big city and he can be anonymous here better than anywhere else.

Xander spends that night and most of the next day just lying on the lumpy bed in his motel room. Watching TV and getting drunk. Trying not to think. Trying not to remember. Trying not to hurt.

Xander tried. He did. He'd given everything he had -- his heart, his enthusiasm, his trust, his love, his loyalty. Gave his body to be bruised and beaten and bloodied again and again. It hadn't made a
difference.

Jesse.

Buffy.

Not a damn thing he could do to save either one of them.

Xander lifts the bottle of Jack Daniels to his lips, takes a long pull. Obviously, he's not drunk enough, because the thinking is still happening, and the pain isn't far behind, he's sure. Drains the bottle, then drops it to the floor as he lies down. Listens as it rolls and clinks against the bottle he'd discarded the same way last night. Realizes that getting drunk enough to stop the unwelcome thoughts and feelings completely might kill him.

He thinks about that for a long time -- drinking until he sinks so far into numb that he drowns in it. It's not an entirely unattractive option, and he cracks open one eye to stare fuzzily at the two unopened bottles of Jack on the dresser. Seems like too much work to get up and grab them, so he settles for closing his eyes and falling asleep. He can always drink himself to death tomorrow.

Several hours later, Xander's awake and his head is throbbing. His mouth feels like someone sucked all the moisture out of it -- like they do at the dentist with those little plastic vacuum things that he can't name. Realizes he's still a little drunk and that he needs to pee. Badly. Wonders if he's capable of dragging himself out of bed to the bathroom, which suddenly seems ridiculously far away. Turns his head and eyes the empty bottles on the floor speculatively, but hey -- if he's gonna get off the damn bed for the first time all day, he might as well go all the way with it.

As long as he's up, he might as well take a shower, too. The hot water does wonders for his headache, and by the time he's dry and dressed, Xander's feeling -- well, good would be overstating it. But he's glad he didn't crawl inside those extra bottles of Jack after all.

Suddenly he's practically vibrating with the need to be...out. Somewhere. Anywhere -- the tiny, cluttered motel room is making him claustrophobic. Problem is, he hasn't got even the beginnings of a clue about where to go. Brushes his teeth and tries to think of something, watches himself as he brushes his hair and ponders shaving.

Xander runs one hand over the stubble on his chin and up through his longish shaggy hair and thinks maybe this is a good look for him. Grins at his reflection, because he knows he must still be buzzed if he's admiring his appearance -- he's never thought of himself as attractive. Guys like Angel are attractive -- tall, well-built, perfectly dressed. Or Spike, with the accent, the leather, and the 'we both know you want to fuck me' attitude. Guys like Xander? Not so tall, not so well-built -- he glances down at his long-sleeved bright orange t-shirt and baggy khaki cargo pants ruefully -- not so well-dressed? Not so much with the attractive, he thinks.

Xander glances up at the mirror again and scratches his chin absently. Purses his lips and really looks at himself for a few moments. OK, so he's not a hunka hunka burnin' love, but it's not like he's repulsive. He shrugs, pulls his boots on and leaves, locking the door carefully behind him.

He's been walking for a good twenty minutes, still undecided about where to go but glad to be out of the motel room, when he sees a Fyarl demon cross the street and walk toward him. Fuck. Xander knows Fyarl demons are aggressive and tough, and this really wasn't how he wanted to spend his time away from the Hellmouth. He sees a length of heavy pipe lying on the ground and moves to pick it up, but is stopped by a hand on his arm.

"Hey sweetcheeks, not here."

Xander looks up to see a green-skinned demon with red horns talking to him. "But -"

"Allow me to introduce myself, Tall, Dark and Delicious. My name's Lorne, and this is my bar." Lorne gestures to the door the Fyarl demon, ignoring both of them, has just walked through. "It's called Caritas - that's Latin for 'mercy', by the way - and it's a safe haven. No fighting, violence or weapons of any kind. Got it?"

Xander nods wordlessly, trying not to stare at the dark red horns protruding from the green guy's -- Lorne's -- forehead.

Lorne studies him for a moment, then places a hand underneath his elbow. "Come inside, catch a glimpse of the local nightlife. You look like you could use some good music and a place to rest for a while."

Xander lets Lorne guide him inside the bar, through a metal detector and to a table in the corner. "Have a seat, doll. I'll send someone over to take your order. Want some advice?" Without waiting for answer, Lorne continues. "Stay away from anything with 'bloody' in its name." Lorne nods in the direction of a table full of...oh shit. Vampires? "You might get an unpleasant surprise in your drink, if you do."

Xander nods his acquiescence , eyes never leaving the group of vampires, and Lorne smiles. "Don't worry - nothing's going to happen in here, trust me. Just sit back, enjoy the music and relax. Oh, and you better not stare at them. They can be a little...touchy."

Xander looks away as Lorne leaves, walks over to the bar and talks briefly with the dark-haired man behind the counter. Xander settles back in his chair, leaning against the wall, and takes a good look around the club. It's the weirdest thing he's ever seen, which is saying a lot. The room is full of demons and monsters of various shapes, colours and textures. Some of them Xander recognizes, like the Fyarl. More of them he doesn't. He wonders how far outside this place the safe zone extends and if he's going to manage to make it back to the motel without becoming a late-night snack for any of the bar patrons on their way home.

A waiter comes up and asks him what he'd like to drink. "Beer," Xander answers, handing him some money. "And keep 'em comin', OK?" The waiter nods and walks away and Xander thinks to himself that the guy definitely fits the Angel-definition of attractive.

Blushes a little, then shrugs it off wearily. It's not the first time he's thought or even said something like that about a guy. Not even the third or fourth or fiftieth time. Maybe he should stop worrying about it, let go and just...be. Whoever he is, whatever that means. He's too tired to do anything else anymore, even in his own head.

When the waiter returns with his beer, Xander grins his thanks and allows himself to enjoy the rush he feels when the guy smiles back. Decides he really likes dimples on guys with brown hair and blue eyes. Feels a brief flare of panic when he thinks about how fast he went from 'oh shit, not looking at a guy' to 'hot damn, he's fine'.

Xander mulls it over as he drinks his beer and watches various - what...people? demons? creatures? - get up on stage and sing for the crowd. Chuckles a little at the irony of having left Sunnydale to take a break from Hellmouthy weirdness, yet here he is hanging out in a multi-species karaoke bar in L.A.

Before he even realizes he's finished the first one, the cute waiter's back with a fresh beer for him. Xander smiles widely and says thank you, and the waiter winks at him before walking away this time.

OK...make that 'hanging out in a multi-species karaoke bar and flirting with the gorgeous male waiter'. Xander groans and drops his head to the table. Thinks that staying on the Hellmouth would have meant *less* weirdness at this point.

Xander's still sitting that way when he hears a guitar strumming and then...

A voice that makes all the nerves in his body crackle, gives him goosebumps and makes his skin feel hot at the same time. He raises his head slowly and looks at the stage. All thoughts of cute waiters and impending panic over the apparently fluid state of his sexuality disappear from his mind as he lays eyes on what very well may be the hottest-looking guy he's ever seen.

Xander sucks in his breath and chews his bottom lip absent-mindedly as he stares at the man singing onstage. Short, softly spiky brown hair, tanned skin, full, soft-looking lips... Xander licks his own lips and shakes his head slightly, trying to clear his mind enough to actually listen, instead of just gaping.

"... I'm just wanting, just wanting, desire all desire is, desire feeds desire, desire all desire is, desire breeds desire ..."

Xander snorts softly, amused. Never let it be said that there isn't a perfect song for every situation. Returns his attention to the singer and listens again.

"...to break down walls and to escape, be alone and hide my face, I want to feel, I want to touch, want to stop wanting it so much..."

OK, not quite perfect. 'Stop wanting' isn't anywhere on Xander's lists of things to do today, he knows that much. Wanting to feel and touch suddenly are, though. Not that he's going to. No touching, no feeling. Not for the guy with the fiancée -- girl version -- back home waiting for him. Nope - no wanting to touch the *fucking amazing* man up there who's --

Oh, shit. Xander's heart drops into his stomach and leaps into his throat simultaneously as he realizes that the guy is watching him as he finishes the song.

"... I'm just wanting, just wanting, desire all desire is, desire feeds desire, desire all desire is, desire breeds desire ..."

Xander swallows and becomes very interested in picking at the label on his beer bottle as he wonders when he developed a fixation for brown-haired, blue-eyed guys with dimples. Thanks every god he can think of and sends generic gratitude to any he can't that Spike bleaches his hair.

Not that he ever noticed Spike's dimples.

Xander's forehead thumps onto the table again as he gives up.

Fine. He notices guys. All the fucking time, apparently. He notices the tall ones, the short ones, and the ones with tight asses. He thinks guys with brown hair and dimples are sexy, and he'll even go so far as to admit that list includes Angel, but he draws the line at Spike. It's his mind -- he can say anything he damn well pleases, and anyway, Spike's blond.

Xander's so caught up in his mental coming-out-of-the-closet exercise that he doesn't notice when the other chair at his table is pulled out and someone sits down. Doesn't see the nod to the waiter, doesn't know anybody's looking at him until he hears the click of glass on the tabletop. Lifts his head to say that he's not ready for another beer, and oh, look at that. Son of a bitch.

"Hi." The mouth Xander was admiring just a minute ago curves into a small smile. "Mind if I sit here? There are two empty chairs in this place and I really don't want to sit with that Kresnor demon."

Xander shakes his head dumbly and stares as one tanned hand lifts the glass from the table to that mouth with the bottom lip that Xander suddenly has an overwhelming urge to suck on -- whoa fuck, who said anything about sucking? No sucking!

Xander drops his head to the table once more. He doesn't have the energy for this. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. Apparently, if you take one large portion of physical and mental exhaustion, add a generous amount of alcohol, shake and stir with a couple of really hot guys, you've nailed the recipe for 'Xander finally admits he's bi'. On the rocks, maybe? Xander snorts against the table.

"Are you all right?" Xander looks up to find those absofuckinglutely gorgeous blue eyes watching him worriedly. "Everything OK?'

Sitting up, Xander sighs and nods. "Yeah." -- just trying not to think about how much I'd like to grab you and -- Xander swallows and shoves the thought away, chanting Anya's name softly in the back of his mind. "Yeah, I'm good, thanks." Rubs a hand tiredly across his eyes. "Long day, that's all."

The guy nods and sits quietly, sipping his drink and watching as a Merthlog demon -- Xander knows the names of too many demon species for his liking -- gets up and starts growling unintelligibly along with some Britney Spears song.

Xander doesn't see the blue eyes slide his way again and again -- he's too busy pulling the label from his beer and shredding it nervously as he racks his brain for something to say. Just his luck that his brain has decided to pick now as the time to turn him into the strong silent type. Where the hell are the banter and the babble when you really need them? OK - not so much the babbling, but a little witty banter, a few lame jokes -- he's willing to say anything that'll get a response. He wants to hear that honey-golden voice slide over him again so badly he can feel the need for it crawling under his skin. Wants to ask the guy's name, but doesn't trust his voice not to shake, so he just sits and tries to breathe evenly. Tries to pretend that every inch of him isn't clamouring to be pressed up tight against the other man.

The chorus of 'Anya' in his head falters.

Warmth floods his veins when he hears that voice asking him how he found Caritas. A beat, and then he's being asked his name, and Xander doesn't think he's imagining the tremor he hears in the question. Xander lifts his head and smiles hugely, relieved and a little excited -- OK, a lot, and he knows he's grinning like an idiot, but he can't help it, and he feels a rush of relief when he sees the guy grin back.

Suddenly, Xander's a lot more comfortable, though not any calmer, and discovers he's regained the power of speech. They exchange names -- Xander's never known a 'Lindsey' before -- and Xander settles back, ready to talk, holding another beer brought by the same cute waiter. Who seems very friendly with Lindsey, judging from that smile, and hey...no getting jealous -- engaged-guy, here!

He talks about Sunnydale, the Hellmouth, and the teacher he had a crush on who was really a giant praying mantis. That gets a chuckle and a couple of questions in response, so Xander tells Lindsey a few more stories. Leaves out a few details here and there, trying to get Lindsey to ask questions, hoping to get a good flow of give-and-take going. Doesn't mention anything about Slayers or Scoobies, vampires with souls or chips, or fiancées who are ex-vengeance demons. Wants nothing more for one night than to be a relatively normal guy who just happens to live in a very unusual town.

Xander listens as Lindsey tells his own stories about growing up in a small town in the South. Feels a little spark of kinship at the realization that it's not that different from growing up in a small California town. Feels sparks of a different sort when he shifts and one of his legs accidentally brushes against Lindsey's. He'd leave it there if Lindsey was a girl, but he's not at all sure how things work on this side of the fence and so he moves with a quiet "Sorry". Gets a nod and a grin in return and spends the next ten minutes watching Lindsey talk and trying to figure out a way to do it again without looking like an idiot.

The problem is solved for him - sort of - when the waiter comes over, grabs an empty chair from the table a group of horned demons just vacated, and sits down. Says he doesn't want to block the aisle, so he makes "Linds" -- which Xander immediately decides is an extremely stupid nickname -- move his chair closer to Xander's to make more room. The waiter smiles, asks Xander's name and introduces himself as CJ. Turns out his shift just ended. Isn't that wonderful.

Xander's not sure whether he wants to thank CJ for the fact that Lindsey's now sitting close enough to that their shoulders are touching, or if he'd rather spend the next 30 minutes grilling him on exactly how long and how well he's known Lindsey. He settles for a smile, only slightly forced, and says "Hi".

CJ winks -- Xander wonders if he's flirting or if he somehow knows what Xander's thinking and is teasing him -- and starts chatting with them. Well, Lindsey mostly. And flirting. Lots of flirting. Xander finishes his beer as his mood rapidly begins to deteriorate to the level it was at when he first arrived. Finally, he excuses himself to go to the restroom.

When Xander's finished washing his hands, he spends a long moment trying to collect his thoughts. He's not sure how to handle what's going on. Hasn't had such a strong physical reaction to another person...well, ever. He's hot all over, chills running up and down his spine and something hard and tight is sitting in his stomach, waiting. For what, he doesn't know. Has a vague hope that it will involve lips and tongues. Prays he wasn't misinterpreting the roughness in Lindsey's voice or the little looks he's been getting. Doesn't think so, and suddenly he's inflamed with the need to know if Lindsey's lips feel as soft as they look.

Before he can talk himself out of it, Xander opens the door, determined to get rid of the overly-friendly waiter and to get at least one really good kiss out of Lindsey. Even if he's not quite sure how he's going to make it happen. Sees Lindsey and CJ, still at the table talking, as he steps into the corridor. Gets bumped roughly by someone entering the restroom, and when he looks up again...

Fuck.

Xander guesses he was misreading Lindsey after all, because CJ and Lindsey are kissing. Sucking face, swapping spit, whatever the hell you want to call it, they're doing it, and Xander feels like he's just been sucker-punched. Hard. Doesn't want to see this but he can't move, so he watches them kiss. Just *knows* that CJ is getting a taste of that tongue Xander had his heart set on. Bastard.

The kiss ends and they're talking again, rather animatedly. Xander figures he's been completely forgotten and decides he's had enough pain and humiliation for one night. Time to go back to the motel and maybe open up one of those bottles of Jack he's got left. Decision made, he heads for the door with his hands in his pockets. Watches the floor as he walks, not wanting to see anything else. Feels someone brush by him when he's almost to the door, and there's a hand on his arm.

"'Scuse me," Xander says as he looks up. Oh.

It's Lindsey, looking concerned. "Leaving already?"

Xander shrugs Lindsey's arm away. "Yeah. Uh...I..." He sighs.
"It's kinda late."

Lindsey tilts his head to one side and studies Xander's expression. "You saw."

The hard, tight thing reappears in Xander's stomach and he licks his lips nervously. "Hey - what you do with anyone is your own business. I'm good."

They're jostled by the group of vampires Lorne pointed out to Xander earlier. The vampires mutter and curse at them for blocking the door, and Lindsey grabs Xander's arm again.

"C'mon," he says, jerking his head in the direction of the bar. "Talk to me for a few minutes."

Xander shakes his head but doesn't pull his arm away. "I - I should go. Really."

Lindsey steps very close and Xander can smell the scent of shampoo in the shorter man's hair. The hot and cold is back, with a little breathing difficulty thrown in for good measure. Not to mention the roaring in his ears. Which, miraculously, isn't loud enough to drown out the sound of Lindsey's quiet, "Please?"

Xander nods, not trusting himself to speak, and Lindsey grabs his hand -- Xander feels the heat rush up his arm -- and leads him over to the far end of the bar. Xander can't help but grin as he sits down on the stool next to the one Lindsey's taken. "Trying to make sure I don't run out on you?"

Lindsey smiles. "Maybe." He orders scotch for himself and beer for Xander, who tries to protest, but Lindsey insists. "Give me till the beer is gone? If you want to leave then, I won't try to talk you out of it. Let me explain."

"I told you, I'm good," Xander says as the bartender hands him the beer. "Everything's cool." He takes a long pull from the bottle.

Lindsey watches intently, staring at Xander's lips wrapped around the bottleneck, at his throat as he swallows. He coughs once and says rapidly, "And here I thought you got mad and decided to leave because my trying-to-be-helpful ex-boyfriend stuck his tongue down my throat."

Xander chokes on his beer then and sets it down on the bar. Looks at Lindsey, eyes wide, and says, "How - how is that helpful, exactly?" Knows he said a lot with what he chose not to say. Doesn't care.

Grinning, Lindsey points out, "I didn't say it was helpful - just that that's what CJ was trying to do. Help." He takes a drink and continues, his eyes never leaving Xander's. "Said he thought you seemed a little shy, that maybe if he made you jealous..." Lindsey sets the glass down and shrugs. "He's kind of impulsive. Sorry - he means well."

Xander waves off the apology. "It's not your fault. Don't worry about it." Takes another long drink of beer, thinking. "Ex-boyfriend, huh?" Grins, teasing. "Does he try to 'help' you often?"

Lindsey laughs. Xander thinks it sounds just as delicious as his singing, feels something twist sweetly in his stomach. "No." Lindsey shakes his head. "Not like that, anyway. He does try to fix me up a lot - he thinks I don't have enough fun."

"Kind of a friendly relationship for an ex," Xander observes. "Not...not that it's any of my business," he adds, embarrassed.

"It could be." Lindsey reaches out and runs his thumb up the back of Xander's hand. Xander shivers at the warmth of Lindsey's skin against his and feels himself begin to grow hard. Lindsey picks up his drink. "If you want." Drinks slowly, still looking at Xander.

Xander swallows. If he wants? He wants all kinds of things -- things he can't name but didn't know he could *need* so intensely. The roaring in his ears is back and his vision narrows until the only thing he's aware of is Lindsey. Who seems very far away, so Xander leans into him, trying to bridge the distance. Lindsey blinks slowly, sets his drink down. Moves toward Xander until they meet somewhere in the middle, their lips barely brushing. Xander feels the heat of Lindsey's leg pressed up against his own, the softness of Lindsey's cotton shirt under his hand, the straining of his own erection against his jeans.

What do you know -- Lindsey's lips are even softer than they look.

Xander moans and grips the back of Lindsey's head, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Lindsey's tongue slips between Xander's lips and Xander feels heat blossom in his chest, his gut, even his toes. Lindsey's tongue swirls slickly over his, setting off sparks all over Xander's body -- Lindsey tastes like rain and music and scotch, and Xander's never been a scotch drinker, but he knows he's going to start. Feels Lindsey's hand on the back of his neck, drawing them even closer together and now it's tangled in his hair, and goddamn he loves that low moan Lindsey makes when Xander sucks on his tongue, so he does it again and is rewarded with another one. Lindsey's other hand slides down Xander's back and into his back pocket and Xander moves until they're as close as they can be without one of them being in the other's lap. Still kissing, hot lips and wet tongues and tiny nibbles and quiet moans and Xander just gets hotter, knowing Lindsey's as lost as he is.

Finally, Xander needs air and breaks the kiss. Doesn't move away, because he already feels the need to taste Lindsey again whirling through him. Leaves his hands on the back of Lindsey's head and tilts his own until their foreheads are touching, keeping his eyes closed. Lindsey doesn't move either, except to start rubbing the back of Xander's head gently. Somebody's shaking, but Xander can't tell if it's him or Lindsey. Maybe both of them. He can hear Lindsey breathing as hard as he is; feels the warm puffs of air on his face sending chills skittering down his spine. "What the fuck was that?" he asks breathlessly, opening his eyes.

Lindsey's tongue darts out and runs against Xander's bottom lip before he answers, his voice rough. "Best kiss I've had in a long time, that's what." He clears his throat and grins. "I could be wrong, though. We should make sure."

Xander chuckles and Lindsey tilts his head up for another kiss, but they're interrupted when each man feels a hand on his shoulder. Heads turn in unison -- it's Lorne, smiling apologetically at them. "Sorry, guys." Lorne spreads his arms and shrugs. "As delicious as this floor show is, I have to ask you to let the curtain fall for the night."

Xander frowns in confusion -- he's got no idea what Lorne's trying to say. Lindsey laughs and kisses Xander's chin before saying, "I didn't think you minded, Lorne."

Lorne pats Lindsey on the back. "Honey, if it were up to me, you could have the stage and sell tickets." He nods in the direction of the rest of the club and adds, "But you two are giving off enough pheromones to cause a stampede, so you better cool it."

"Sure," Lindsey says agreeably and untangles himself from Xander, who reluctantly lets him move away.

He's surprised when Lindsey takes his hand and pulls him to a standing position. "What?"

"I'm not finished -- are you?" Lindsey asks with a grin and a raised eyebrow.

Xander grins back. "Hell, no." He lets Lindsey lead him toward the door, and waves good-bye to Lorne, who's watching them leave with a smile on his face.

They get four steps into the parking lot and then Lindsey's got Xander shoved up against a truck and his tongue in Xander's mouth. Xander moans from the sheer relief of tasting Lindsey again, and wraps his arms around the smaller man, pulling him close. Long moments pass as they kiss and lick and suck, hands roaming and caressing, bodies rubbing together.

Xander's brain is busy monitoring and cataloguing this new experience. Lindsey's smell -- soap, cologne and clean sweat; the way Lindsey's tongue and lips feel under Xander's mouth, hot and slick, firm and smooth; the sensations that ripple through Xander's body as Lindsey's hands slide from his arms to his shoulders, up the back of his neck and down to his ass. Takes note of things he's never felt before -- the hardness of Lindsey's erection against his thigh, the faint rasp of the stubble on Lindsey's chin as it catches slightly on his own unshaven face, the way Lindsey's body feels -- hard and tight, smooth muscles clenching under the skin. Everything so different from anything he's experienced. No soft curves, flowery perfume or silky hair around his face as he bends his head and sucks softly on Lindsey's neck just underneath the jawline. Low, throaty moan and flat muscled chest so unlike Anya's...

Fuck.

Xander lifts his head and leans back against the truck with a groan.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Anya. Engaged-guy. Shit.

Lindsey doesn't pick up on Xander's change of mood and nibbles Xander's neck and slides his hands underneath Xander's shirt and up to his nipples. Xander moans, then shakes his head and says, "Lindsey...don't."

Lindsey lets his hands fall to Xander's waist but continues licking Xander's neck, still not comprehending. Xander pushes him away gently and says, "Stop. Lindsey - please."

Lindsey tilts his head and looks at Xander for a moment. Awkwardness and tension are pouring from Xander in waves, and Lindsey asks, "Is it because we're outside? We can..." He indicates the truck with a wave of his hand. "This is mine. We can go to my -"

"No." Xander's voice is sharper than he intended it to be, and he softens it with a smile. "Sorry. Didn't mean to bite. I just..." Xander removes Lindsey's hands from his waist and looks at them for a moment before letting go. "I can't."

Lindsey frowns, confused. "At all? Or just for now?" Understanding flickers across his face and he says, "It's too fast, isn't it? Shit, I'm sor-"

Xander cuts him off. "No, it's - it's not that." Blushes slightly and admits, "I could. Or would. Whatever. I just can't." He chuckles wryly. "That made sense, didn't it?"

Lindsey shakes his head no, but he's grinning. "Not really. But it's all right as long as it's a 'not now' and not a 'not at all'." Furrows his brow, thinking. "I don't think that made sense, either."

Xander closes his eyes briefly against the searing *want* that flares through him as he watches Lindsey talk. Laughs weakly and says, "It didn't. But I understand." Knows he has to do this quick or he's not going to do it at all. "I..." How the hell can he explain? 'Hey, Lindsey - I'm engaged. Yeah, to a girl. Didn't admit I was bi, even to myself, until just a couple of hours ago. You understand, right? And uh - hey, can I get your phone number?' Fuck. He sighs. "I'm sorry. Really. But I can't. Not...not now." Bites his lip as he waits for Lindsey to tell him to fuck off.

Instead, Lindsey nods. "I can handle that. Don't like it," and he grins at Xander "but I can handle it." Digs in his back pocket and pulls out a flat, black leather case. Opens it and hands Xander a card. "My home and cell numbers are on there. When you work out whatever it is, call me."

Xander looks down at it. "Lindsey McDonald, Attorney-at-Law," he reads, and looks up, surprised. "You're a lawyer?"

"Yeah." Lindsey shrugs and tucks the case back into his pocket. "Sort of...freelance, right now."

Xander's eyes twinkle in the light from the streetlamp. "Lost your job, huh?" He laughs when Lindsey hits him on the arm. "Hey! Just a joke." Tucks the card carefully into his pocket like it's some kind of treasure, and says, "Trust me - I've probably lost more jobs than you've ever had."

Lindsey grins and says, "I resigned. Haven't decided what I want to do next." Folds him arms across his chest and leans against the truck next to Xander. "I was going to leave L.A. - hell, leave California." Lindsey shrugs. "Changed my mind, decided to stay for a while." Looks Xander over slowly from head to toe, his eyes hot, and says, "Glad I did."

Xander blushes and feels the now-familiar rush in his veins. "And now I have to say goodnight." Holds up one hand, grinning. "I know -- I have great timing. It's a gift." Lindsey chuckles, and Xander does too, then moves away from the truck. Looks at his feet, suddenly shy. "I don't ...don't know what to..." his voice trails off.

Lindsey moves in front of him, close enough that Xander can smell his shampoo again, and says, "Don't worry about it." Waits until Xander looks at him, then smiles. "Just call - when you can." Xander swallows heavily and nods, and Lindsey brushes his lips softly against Xander's and steps back.

Xander takes a deep breath and nods his head. "So. I'll see you later, then." Lindsey says goodbye and Xander starts walking toward his motel. Stops, turn and looks when he hears Lindsey call his name.

"Do you need a ride somewhere?" Lindsey asks, leaning out of the truck.

Yeah, like we both don't know that if I get in that truck with you, my motel room is not where we're going. "No. It's not that far." Xander shakes his head as he speaks. Takes a few backwards steps. "Thanks anyway."

Lindsey waves acknowledgement and sticks his head back in the truck. Xander watches as Lindsey pulls out onto the street and drives away, then groans quietly at the thought of the 20-minute walk ahead of him. It's been a long night and he's tired. But it's a good tired. Not the emotional exhaustion he's been feeling lately. Thinks his willingness to relax and just be himself has everything to do with the difference. He's not sure how he's going to take it home with him -- it's so new, he doesn't know if it will withstand the assault of old habits and routines, but he's determined to try. Whatever that means.

Xander turns around and starts walking back to the motel when Lindsey's truck turns at the stop sign. Lost in his thoughts, Xander doesn't see the man who had been watching them from across the street, never notices as Angel frowns at Lindsey's disappearing taillights and then melts back into the shadows.

~Fin~