Going For the
Summery: A new and improved
Xander sets his sights on someone slightly familiar.
Date: November 15, 2000
**Notes: Charles, you're off the hook. This is Criss' fault. Sorry it
took so long, Oh Evil One. ;)
Xander had finally gotten with the program. It had taken twenty years,
and numerous beatings, both physical and emotional, from various
friends, family members, and nefarious evil things, but Xander got it
now. And, it only took seeing what everyone else had been looking at
If Toth wasn't just a big ass stain on his new carpet, the young man
might have actually thanked the demon. It's not everyday that a guy
gets to see his worst qualities come to life in sniveling Technicolor.
It was pathetic. *He* was pathetic. And for what? To be a part of the
Be a funny guy. They?ll keep you around if you make 'em laugh. Be
unassuming. They might not always know you're there, but at least
you?ll *be* there. Be the idiot. They won't care when you mess up if
that's all that they think you do.
He had played it so well. Always overlooking the contributions he
made to the group, just because everyone else did. Always kowtowing to
Buffy or Willow when in all probability they were just as confused as
he was. He hated it, but the times when he did try to break from the
norm he was chastised, harshly. The fear of losing what little
attention, and at times, affection, they gave was more then enough to
keep him in line.
But, high school was long over, and thanks to one unsung, yet
valiant act, Xander was able to take a new perspective on the whole
situation and use his consequent anger and disgust to become someone
else. . . himself.
He knew who he really was, even if no one else had a clue. They'd find
out though. . .
However, this night certainly wasn't about his 'friends'. It had
taken some doing, for Xander to finally get rid of Anya. He snorted at
the memory of her face, scrunched up in confusion, after he had ended
the relationship. At least there was no threat of vengeance as the
ex-demon had actually believed the 'it's not you, it's me' spiel.
Now, Xander was free. . . and currently trying his damnedest to
enjoy that fact. Not that the Bronze was a particularly conducive
environment for enjoyment. A band that would consider Radiohead too
upbeat was currently onstage and the mood in the club was beyond
somber. Xander actually caught himself missing whatever it was that
used to come out of the Dingoes' instruments.
He was about to take his leave before people started trying to
slice their wrists with shards from coffee cups, when he suddenly
thought of Faith.
Psychosis notwithstanding, the rogue Slayer had been on the right track
with one thing. Want. Take. Have.
And Xander saw something he wanted.
He was sitting by himself on the other side of the bar, seemingly
transfixed by the bottle in front of him. Vaguely Angel-like hair
topped off a beautifully handsome face and a body just made to be
licked. Xander wet his own lips at that thought. . . and the many
others that suddenly came pouring into his head.
But along with the deliciously lascivious ideas forming regarding
the broad shouldered man, there was also a flash of memory. Snippets of
pure chaos flitted across his mental view screen. Demons, soldiers, and
spells. . . death, death, and more death. But, at the end, that guy was
there, helping to evacuate the survivors. His face a mask that
surpassed even Angel's attempts at staidness. He hadn't been in control
of the situation, but he was in control of himself, and Xander had
envied that. He had wanted that so badly. And, now that Xander had said
control, he simply wanted the man.
No, what he really wanted was to make that stoic, unemotional,
impassive military man lose control. Yeah, that could be fun.
Want. . . check. Take. . . getting there. Have. . . before the night
With a less then chaste goal firmly set in his mind, Xander ambled
around the bar, easily sliding into the unoccupied seat next to his
prey. His prey. Now, that was a combination of words he hadn't thought
to put together for a while. He wasn't exactly sure why. They certainly
had a nice ring to them.
"Hey." Xander racked his brain for the name to go with that
"Not interested." Was the surly reply.
Xander's eyes sparkled in the face of such an obvious challenge.
Time to change tactics. "So, is Riley okay and in one piece, or
dissected and stuck in a secret government installation somewhere in
That got his attention. Lovely blue eyes narrowed at Xander.
do you know about it?" Distrust and suspicion clear in his voice.
Xander shrugged. "I know what happened the last time you
government types tried to play God."
Realization washed over the soldier's face. "You were there. The
"All hell broke loose in your little fortress of horrors? Yeah, I
was there." Xander nodded. "One of the more interesting
times I broke
into an Army base."
"Marine." The soldier corrected. He stared hard at the younger
man. "Did Buffy send you?"
"I'm not her errand boy" Xander said, a bit harsher then he had
intended. Those wounds were still fresh.
"Then what are you doing here?"
Xander shrugged. "Recapturing my youth?"
"No." Graham shook his head, then stopped when the room kept on
moving without his help. He slowly pushed his latest beer away from
him. "I mean, why are you here, sitting beside me, talking to
"Are you particularly averse to it?" Xander asked, cocking his
head to the side.
"No. . . but-"
The younger man sighed, and opted to tell the truth. "I
you, figured you might be civil enough to let me know what happened
with Riley." Well, part of the truth.
"Oh. Okay." The soldier blinked, and turned back to the
fine." Suddenly feeling much too sober he reached out to reclaim
The beer was forgotten. "Excuse me?"
"You're drinking alone. . . and in this place." At that moment a
particularly morbid verse from the stage echoed through the nearly
empty club. "Now, I'm not sure about the exact details of
life, but I thought all you guys went looking for drunken orgies in
your time off."
"Nah," A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. "That's
just the Navy."
"Ah." The barrier was definitely developing cracks. "I'm
"So, Graham, are you gonna tell me what's wrong, or do I have to
"Not to be rude, but it?s none of your business." Graham gave
Xander a sideways glance. "Besides, what do you care?"
"We're not friends, but, I don't know, we're something. I know
about you, you can pretty much guess about me. I'm offering an
Among other appendages he added silently.
Graham thought about this for a moment. The wheels almost audibly
clicking through his somewhat intoxicated mind. "How well do you
Xander started slightly. "I've lived here all my life. Why, what
do you want to do?"
Graham's blue eyes were fierce. "Kill something."
Xander smiled. "Cool."
Poetry in motion was such an overused phrase, but it fit so well.
Graham's movements were fluid, yet controlled. Strength and grace
melded together in that amazing muscular body to form a beautifully
effective weapon. A fact the demon they had come across was learning
the hard way.
Not even watching Angel fight had come close to imbuing Xander with
the same sense of wanton depravity this little floor show was
inspiring. Armed with only a spare dagger Xander had found in his car,
Graham had put his years of combat training to the test. He hadn't had
a good knockdown drag out fight in ages, and he had needed one. There
was nothing quite like beating the piss out of a six foot tall scale
covered harbinger of evil.
Xander shifted slightly, eyes bright, mouth slightly parted. He
absently let one hand drift down and readjust himself. He could
probably have jerked off right then and there and neither combatant
would have been the wiser. The action was that intense, the fighters
that evenly matched. But, regardless of Graham's many attributes, he
was still human, and he was tiring.
Xander felt a surge of anger and possessiveness as one of the creatures
claws finally made contact with the soldier's upper arm. There was no
way in hell he was going to miss the chance to be wrapped in that
amazing body because some overgrown newt got in a lucky shot. The one
on one crap had gone on long enough.
Xander lifted his own knife, which he had 'borrowed' from Giles'
collection. Within seconds he saw an opening. Graham had gone down, and
the demon was standing over him, crowing his triumph. It was unaware,
or indifferent, of the other human in the situation, and Xander
instinctively used that to his advantage. Four years of helping the
Slayer and one magical night of ingrained military know how didn't
automatically make him the best fighter in the world, but he certainly
wasn't playing the hapless sidekick tied to the train tracks either.
The demon howled in pain and outrage as the six inch blade plunged into
the back of it's neck. Xander held on and sharply twisted the knife,
secure in the knowledge that he must have hit *something* vital. He was
right. The creature sank to the ground, it's clawed arms trying
ineffectively to dislodge the dogged human from its back.
With a hard tug Xander pulled the blade free of the dying demon. He
watched indifferently as something yellow bubbled up out of the wound
and began to run down the creature's neck. A low, steady moan was
emanating from the fanged mouth. A seemingly unending death cry that
greatly annoyed the human. Xander sighed deeply, rolled his eyes, and
gave it a good swift kick in the head. The moaning stopped, and the
mortal chose to ignore the part of his mind that was chortling with
glee at the violence and pain he had just been a part of.
"Not. . . bad." Graham panted.
"Gee, thanks." Xander turned around, ready to meet whatever
might find hidden behind that statement. However, the young man was not
prepared for the sight he was confronted with. Graham was on his hands
and knees, breathing harshly, as droplets of blood slowly gathered on
the ground beneath him. Fingernails bit into his palm as Xander quickly
regained control of his higher brain functions. He knew he could let
that moment pass. After all, Xander had complete confidence that the
soldier was going to be taking that position again sometime soon.
With that lovely thought dancing in his head Xander reached out a hand
and helped Graham to his feet. "Feel any better?"
"Well, except for the whole bleeding thing." Graham gingerly
examined his wounded arm.
Xander peered at the growing red stain on the older man's shirt.
"My apartment is only a couple blocks from here. And, believe me when I
say I've got plenty of experience taking care of wounds like
Xander carefully studied the solder, wondering what was going through
that impassive looking head. Wondering if Graham had any idea what was
going to happen to him that night.
"Your apartment?" Graham slowly thought that over. Then, with a
nod, he said, "Sounds good. Let's go."
"Nice place." Graham remarked as his eyes wandered around the
spacious apartment. He greeted the sight of the ceiling fan with a nod
"I like it." Xander put a guiding hand on the small of Graham's
back. "Come on, there're some bandages in the bathroom."
stayed in place until they got to the smaller room, and even then his
touch lingered before retrieving the medical supplies from under the
Graham grimaced as he tried to pull off his shirt. The already
injured skin stretched causing fresh blood to ooze from the scratches.
"Here," Xander quickly offered his assistance. "Let me
carefully finished removing the material from the soldier's body,
trying not to hurt him any more then necessary.
With the shirt off Xander had to resist the urge to just stare as
he got his first look at that well-muscled torso. It was hard,
incredibly defined, basically hairless, and the younger man wanted
nothing more then to taste every inch of it. . . Until Graham turned to
assess the damage in the mirror, and Xander got a good look at the
Drab brown pants hung off the soldier's narrow hips and clung to his
ass. For a mindless second Xander envied those pants. But even after
his brain started firing all cylinders again, his fingers still itched
to find out if those cheeks felt as firm as they looked. The time for
pretense was definitely over.
Xander raised his gaze to the mirror. Brown eyes met the reflection
of blue, and he let one finger slowly trail down the ridge of the older
man's spine. "You do know what's gonna happen here tonight,
Graham felt a small shudder go through his body at the sound of
that voice. Oh, he knew. He had known since Xander had sat down beside
him what that night would eventually culminate in. But there was still
a voice inside his head which berated him for even considering this
liaison. There were too many compromising factors at play. This wasn't
just a stranger off the street. It was a good bet that he would have
future interactions with this man. "What if I say no?"
internally winced at the breathlessness quality his voice had already
Xander suppressed the knowing smirk that threatened to blossom over
his face. Now wasn't the time to be cocky. . . that would come later.
He lowered his eyes, letting the long fringe of his lashes rest against
his cheeks. "Then, I patch you up and you walk out the door."
Graham closed his eyes, his entire being focused on that soft
stroking sensation on his back. The touch. And, suddenly he knew. This
was what he wanted, what he needed. The steady throb in his arm
reminded him that he wasn't at full strength, but the soldier was more
then confident that he could still control the brown eyed beauty behind
With his decision made Graham turned around. "And, if I say
yes?" Blue eyes danced as lips twisted into a smirk.
Xander answered him with a leer. "I'm sure we can figure out
Xander grimaced as a rough finger invaded his ass. The fact that
the digit was almost excessively slick with lube did little to ease his
mind. This was not the way the night was supposed to go. And everything
had been progressing so well. The scratches were cleaned and bandaged.
Remaining clothes were removed. Various kisses, and touches and "Oh,
God, you're hot"s were exchanged. Things were moving at a wonderfully
rapid rate, when Xander stopped to retrieve the needed supplies from
the nightstand. No sooner had he placed the condoms and lube on the
waiting bed, then he was thrown to the ground. Xander had expected a
bit of roughness, hoped for it in fact, but not this way.
Graham wasn't wasting any more time being considerate with the young
man wriggling beneath him. One large hand was pinning Xander's arms
above his head and to the floor. The other was working its way into the
surprisingly tight ass. Anticipation growing steadily as those dark
eyes glared up at him. Graham was not offput by the almost palpable
outrage in the room. Xander may not have liked the change in authority,
but he certainly wasn't saying no to anything. That was a good thing.
Graham hated sore losers.
Xander grunted and desperately tried to leverage himself out of the
situation, but the solid weight on top of him wasn't having any of it.
This wasn't happening. It wasn't fair. Graham was supposed to be *his*
prey. *His* victim. So many years to make up for, and all he could do
was just lay back and take it. Unless. . . there was one thing he could
do. . . one possibility. . . but, that wouldn't be very nice at all. .
. Fuck it. There was nothing wrong with playing a little dirty.
Xander stopped struggling, and lowered his eyes. He then arched his
neck upwards and parted his lips. Asking, begging to be kissed.
Graham blinked a few times at the rapid change. However, never one
to ask questions, the soldier accepted the unspoken surrender. He
leaned in to meet Xander's mouth, duplicity the last thing on his mind.
. . when it really should have been the first.
In the instant before their lips met, Xander reared back and
slammed his head into Graham's. Black stars danced in front of blue
eyes. Xander took the opportunity to free his arms, a malicious sneer
having taken the place of the sweetly serene look of submission. He
wasn't done yet.
Graham let out a sharp cry that was as much surprise as pain when
Xander's fingers pushed hard into his bandaged shoulder. The unexpected
assault left the soldier slightly reeling, but, before Graham could
regroup and react Xander gave him a hard shove forward that had the
soldier kissing carpet. With a growl a hell beast would have been proud
of, Graham started to get up, more pissed now then anything else. But,
Xander's instincts saw a golden opportunity, and who was he to pass up
such a thing?
Graham froze as blunt teeth clamped down on the back of his neck,
not tearing the delicate skin, just. . . holding him there. The
soldier's own teeth ground together in irritation at the position he
found himself in. The wet heat covering the top of his spinal cord. The
heavy, warm weight of Xander's body pressed onto his back. The younger
man's cock hard against his hip. There was nothing left to do except
try and enjoy what he knew was coming. So, when a questing finger began
to stroke between his cheeks, Graham simply relaxed into the feeling.
He let his head hang down, hoping Xander would quit with the bad puppy
Pleased with the obvious subjugation, Xander released his hold on
the older man. He gently licked the abused skin while his one free hand
fruitlessly searched for the needed supplies. With a grumble of
annoyance, Xander tore his mouth completely away from Graham's neck and
raised his head, eyes searching fervently. The condoms and lube had
ended up only a few feet away, but far enough that Xander would have to
completely loose his tenuous hold on the soldier. Hoping Graham
wouldn't try and take advantage of the situation, Xander leaned over
and nipped at a sensitive earlobe. "Don't move."
Graham obeyed, albeit not without mentally weighing his prospects if he
chose to fight for dominance again. However, his arm told him quite
succinctly that any further actions would just be prolonging the
inevitable. Oh, he was certain he could get out of the situation, but
not without seriously ruining the mood, and possibly injuring Xander,
which Graham absolutely did not want to do. The guy was friends with
the Slayer, not to mention the various witches, vigilante vampires, and
werewolves that hung around their group. No, Graham decided he was
content to submit. . . this time.
Xander returned with the paraphernalia, inordinately pleased that
Graham was keeping his pose. He lightly slapped the soilder's bottom.
"Good boy." He ignored the answering grumble and tugged on the
With a greatly put upon sigh, Graham rose to his knees. He spread
his legs, giving Xander easy access. The younger man smiled at the
motion, happy that there would be no more challenges to him.
they could both finally get around to the fornication part of the
evening. Of course, since Graham had insisted on wasting such valuable
time trying to assert himself Xander decided to take it out of the
allotted foreplay section of the act. 'Want. Take. Have' had been
usurped by 'Fuck. Now.'
Long fingers hastily prepared the soldier. Xander was as
considerate as his current state of mind allowed, but from Graham's
occasional grunts of approval it seemed to be enough. It was more then
enough for the younger man, who suddenly couldn't seem to take his eyes
off the place where their flesh joined. The thought of his cock in
there, in *him*, made Xander virtually tingle with desire.
Graham was already breathing harshly, almost ashamed that this
civilian, this *kid*, had gotten to him so quickly. The questing
touches at his ass disappeared and was almost immediately replaced with
something bigger, something much better. Graham's fingers dug into the
carpet as Xander pressed deep inside of him. He couldn't help but moan
when the younger man pulled out, and then moan again when he pushed
back in. Okay, maybe losing did have it's perks.
For his part, Xander wished that Graham would stop moaning. It was
hard enough trying to retain control, what with that gloriously tight
heat surrounding him. *Graham* surrounding him. His mind kept going
back to that. He wasn't fucking a stranger. Xander was going to make
this last. Xander was going to make the soldier-boy scream. He did have
time, after all. If there was one thing Xander had learned from the
year with Anya, it was staying power.
Graham dearly loved the rhythm that was slowly built. Not gentle.
Not vicious. Xander had found a happy medium involving just enough
fierceness to make it that much better. Tiny mewls of pleasure were
added to the cacophony of sex sounds and it took Graham a good four or
five thrusts to realize they were coming out of his mouth.
Xander smiled inanely at those sounds and wondered how he could
garner more of them. His fingers pressed into the firm flesh of
Graham's hips as his own hips began to move faster. Xander had been
wrong about taking his time. Lasting with Anya was one thing. Lasting
with the beautifully sculpted specimen who was currently beneath him
was a different matter entirely.
Xander reached around and under Graham?s torso, pulling up and back so
the soldier was flush against his chest. Still buried balls deep, the
younger man firmly stroked the hard column of flesh jutting out from
Graham didn't need much encouragement. He felt that familiar wave of
nirvana roll over him, and he threw his head back as he came, his inner
muscles squeezing out Xander's own orgasm. Two cries of pure pleasure
echoed through the apartment. Not quite the scream Xander was hoping
for, but specifics didn't really matter at that point. They stayed that
way, one panting, shuddering mass until finally it was too much.
Completely spent, they both collapsed onto the floor, Xander using only
enough energy to roll himself off of his new lover.
When he was secure in the knowledge that there would be no goofy grins
on his face, Graham slowly raised his head. Blue eyes bored
relentlessly into the side of Xander's skull. "You know if it
for my arm I would've nailed you through the floor."
Xander smirked. "Yeah, sure, whatever." Baiting was so much
"Next time things will be different." The soldier punctuated that
statement with a determined nod.
Xander turned his head, eyebrows raised questioningly. "Who says
there's gonna be a next time?"
Graham narrowed his eyes as his mouth twisted into a lecherous
grin. "I do."
Xander matched the grin with one of his own, though slightly more
feral, just as much a promise that whatever this was, it was far from
Like Old Times
Summary: Riley gets drunk, and Graham gets some unexpected information
Date: November 30, 2000
Graham slowly sipped his beer as his eyes wandered around the less then
reputable establishment. "Interesting place. You come here
Riley snorted. "I swear, if the next words out of your mouth are
'What's your sign?' I'm gonna belt you."
"Sorry, Ri, but you're not exactly my type." Graham smiled wryly
the thought. No, Riley wasn't his type at all. He was too tall, his
hair and eyes too light. And, the stick shoved up his ass probably
wouldn't allow for anything else to work its way in there. Riley
wouldn't be any fun. . . but he would serve a purpose. 'D in
ops' guy had a plan.
"No, really," Graham turned a questioning gaze on his companion.
"I've heard stories about this place. Don't you think it's kinda like
walking into the lion's den?" In Graham's peripheral vision he
another patron enter the room. Its iridescent scales reflected the
light in a really very lovely way.
"They re not gonna hurt me." Riley said, eyes fixed on the
refilled glass in front of him. "I'm the Slayer's boyfriend."
Graham's eyebrows rose at the amount of contempt he heard in the other
man's voice. He frowned, and hoped that the whole exemption thing also
covered the guy sitting next to the Slayer's boyfriend. "Things
going so well on the Buffy front?"
Riley's eyes narrowed. "You?d like that, wouldn't you?"
"Of course not." Graham said, lying through his teeth. "But
you don't exactly sound like. . ."
"Like you used to."
Riley smirked. "I changed. We all did. There's nothing wrong with
"Your liver might disagree with you." Graham said as he watched
his companion down another shot.
"Gee, Graham, If I had known there would be a ragging on me portion
of the evening, I think I would have bowed out of this little get
"Not ragging, just observing." Graham said calmly.
"Oh." Riley rolled the empty glass in his fingers. "And
what exactly have you observed?"
Graham studied him for a moment. "You look like shit, Ri."
"Thanks." Riley motioned to the bartender.
"Look, I know we aren't exactly best buds right now, but. . ."
Graham shrugged. "I'm trying here, man."
"And I'm not?" Riley stared at his former friend, then bowed his
head. "Yeah, I'm not." He ran his finger around the edge of
his eyes lost in the amber liquid. "I guess, being around you,
easy to remember how things were. Sure, we were lab rats in a giant
government experiment, and we were indirectly involved in a plot that
would destroy life as we know it, but we were happy. Ignorance is bliss
and all that."
Graham nodded. "But, you're not happy now?"
"I don't know what I am." Riley said quietly. "It's just.
. . one
of the reasons I felt so okay about leaving the Corps is because I
thought I was gonna have a place here. I thought I was gonna belong."
"And now you don't?" Graham cocked his head. "What, her
friends don't accept you?"
"No, no, her friends are great. Really." Riley smiled.
"They've actually made me feel welcome."
"Even that other guy?" Graham asked carefully, hoping he conveyed
nothing more then friendly curiosity. "I would think that there
be at least a little tension, you know, with you honing in on his
Riley frowned, confusion marring his features. "Um. . .Giles
isn't really like that. He's British, you know?"
Somehow Graham resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "No, I mean
the younger guy. What's his name?"
"Oh. Xander. Interesting guess, but, no way. Xander's really nice
to me. And besides, the guy's a total goofball. He's harmless."
Riley was too caught up in his upcoming diatribe to notice Graham
gaping at him. "No, this is all about Buffy. And, I know that
having trouble dealing with that thing with her mom, but still. .
Riley woefully shook his head. "It's like, I'm this prop or
Someone for her to drag out when she needs to be coddled, or reassured,
or when she's horny. I get a lot of attention then. But, other times
Graham continued to occasionally nod as Riley droned on. . . and
on, but the brunt of his mind quickly became occupied with something
Was there more then one Xander in the Slayer's little circle, 'cause
there was no way in hell Graham could associate the words
goofball and helpless with the man who had forced him to his knees and
fucked him senseless. The man who had made him moan, and whimper, and
more sexually satisfied then Graham had been in a very long time.
There was something there, something inside Xander that had the soldier
obsessing over the encounter long after the time most of his sexual
escapades fell by the mental wayside. It wasn't just the fighting, or
the fucking. It was the silent determination inside the younger man.
The resilience mixed with a healthy dose of lust that finally had him
mastering the soldier. Xander knew what he wanted, he didn't give up
until he got it, and he never once opted to take the easy way out. One
word, and Graham would have backed off, but he knew Xander never even
considered saying no to anything. Oh, he didn't like being pinned to
the floor with a finger up his ass, but he wasn't *that* opposed to it
And that was the real reason Graham was still thinking about the
encounter two weeks later, the reason he was back in Sunnydale again.
He had latched on to the very delicious possibility that, in Xander, he
had finally found a man with a sexual appetite to match his own.
So he was sitting in Willy's bar with an increasingly intoxicated
Riley Finn, trying to pump him for information about the brown eyed
young man. . . not that that plan had really worked. Except, maybe, to
tell him that Xander was certainly more than anyone expected him to be.
Then again, Riley was never that observant anyway. But, he was probably
going to realize that Graham wasn't fully into the conversation.
With that thought, the soldier snapped back to the present just in time
to hear Riley say-
"What do you think?"
Years of practiced staidness helped Graham avoid the 'deer caught in
headlights' look. He took a swallow of beer, then smoothly said,
think I'm gonna have to agree with you there."
Riley nodded triumphantly. "I knew it was a good idea."
Slightly apprehensive over what he may have just encouraged, Graham
simply gave him a wary smile.
Riley smiled back. "You know, this has been nice." Riley
with his empty glass. "I've missed stuff like this, Graham. I've
you. . . and Forrest. I don't want to have to keep choosing." His
faltered for a moment, then came back, sure and strong. "So, I'm
There's this meeting thing at the magic shop tomorrow night. Why don't
Graham stared into Riley's eyes, pinned by the earnestness he saw
there. He ached to say yes if for nothing else then to ease some of the
hurt in this man he once considered to be like a brother. However,
honesty won out over altruism. "I don't know if that would be
great idea." Graham said carefully. "I doubt Buffy would be
to see me."
"Even better." Riley looked a bit startled at his choice of
He blinked a few times. "You know, it might be the large quantity
alcohol I consumed, but I'm feeling kinda vindictive." A slightly
malicious grin stretched across his face. "Come on. It could be
Graham decided that there might be hope for his former commander
yet. He thought about the considerations involved in visiting the
Slayer's headquarters. While he really didn't want to want to see Buffy
again. . . ever. . . it would be a nice, not too contrived way to get
close to Xander.
And, with that last thought spreading a warm tingle through his belly,
Graham smiled. "Okay. I'm there." After all, he had a
promise to keep.