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aimeeliciousI am reposting after deleting the previous post because LJ was being very asshattish. Deepest apologies to anyone caught up in the craziness that was the last 15 minutes here.
So, I was involved in this really cool project last year. And I've been nominated for an award for it! I'm excited. If you want to take a look, it's an online publication of student pieces (both art & written) from the College where I work. Check out Nota Bene.
And here's some new Grace. This is a shorter chapter than usual, but hey, that's the way it turned out. Still no smut, sorry. I think it'll happen, but Oz and Xander are taking their own sweet time, that's for sure, and as always there must be roadblocks, etc etc. Previous chapters can be found here. Thanks to all those who continue to read and leave feedback, it's much appreciated!
_____________________________________________________
Grace part 7
By the time he stopped shaking enough to get his act together and find the house, it was after one o'clock. Xander couldn't believe how long he'd stayed in the back seat waiting for the attack to run its course, it was like the world stood still during those things. He was lucky no-one had noticed the shivering lump that was him and called the cops. Could be that North Bend, Oregon was more like Sunnydale than he thought.
Xander did a double take when he pulled into the driveway. Oz's truck was already there, which meant his devious plan to just leave had been thwarted. And hey, wasn't Oz supposed to be at work? Maybe he could sneak through the back door and at least get to the shower before having to talk to anyone. Xander let himself in quietly but heard voices in the living room. Damn.
He peered around the corner and saw Oz sitting on the couch holding Paddy, who was obviously home from school early and in some kind of distress. Uncertain whether he should walk through or not, Xander contemplated just going back to his car but the need to clean off the remnants of his weakness was urgent. Trying to be unobtrusive he edged along the wall, but Oz caught his eye. Should have known he couldn't get anything past that guy, including himself. Damn again.
"Hey. Where've you been?"
"Just went for a drive."
"You don't look too good."
"Gee, thanks. I was on my way to the shower, in fact." Xander started moving toward the hallway again, hoping he could escape, but Oz spoke again, this time to Paddy.
"You gonna be ok if I leave you here with Uncle Xander for a bit?"
Xander's head swiveled around and he opened his mouth to protest at least two of the assumptions that had just been made, but he saw Paddy nod almost right away. And then turn to look at him with pain and sadness in his damp eyes, a kind of anguish no-one should see in a child. His objections died on his lips. That look was so familiar, Xander felt almost as thought he was seeing himself in a mirror. Like he used to. Like he still did sometimes, when he dared to check his reflection.
Oz took Paddy to his room, and came back swiftly. "I just need to take care of one more job this afternoon, but I'm not sure how long it will take."
"What exactly do you do anyway?"
"Process server," Oz said, as he attempted to straighten his tie.
"As in, delivering legal papers to people who don't want them?" Xander asked, stepping forward to adjust the knot at Oz's neck until it lay flat.
"Yeah, that's it."
"Isn't that a kind of dangerous job?" The question's inherent irony was ignored by both of them, and Xander left his hands on Oz's shoulders.
"The hours are good," was all Oz said.
"I was going to leave."
"Figured you might. But I didn't ask you to stay with Paddy for that." Oz touched his cheek lightly for a second, and it stirred Xander in all sorts of bad ways. "Won't keep you here against your will."
Xander was tempted to let Oz know that his will kept changing its damn mind, but decided that was a conversation for never and stepped back before the last of his earlier resolutions went out the window. "I'll stay at least until you're done with work today."
"Thanks. He'll be ok. And you'll tell me when I get back, about whatever happened this morning."
Great. It wasn't until Oz had walked away for what seemed like the millionth time already that the reality of the situation struck him. He'd been mired in his own agony and ready to bolt, now he not only had to stay put, he also had to help someone else. And not just anybody, Oz's nephew. A child. Who apparently thought of him as Uncle Xander. And who was crying again. Shit. He had no clue how to deal with this, especially since Oz had neglected to tell him what the actual problem was.
He knocked tentatively on Paddy's door but went ahead in when there was no response. The room was messy, the crying unmistakable. Sitting on the bed, Xander reached out to touch a shoulder and was startled when he suddenly had a lap full of bawling, gangly pre-teen. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around the skinny frame, murmuring assurances and rubbing gentle circles on Paddy's back.
"I miss her," were the only words he could make out, but they were enough for him to understand what was going on. The poor kid wanted his mother.
He was relieved to know this had nothing to do with supernatural badness, but that fact didn't lessen the heartbreak any, and he pulled the boy closer until sobs subsided to sniffles and finally silence. Paddy had cried himself to sleep. Xander wished he could do the same.
So, I was involved in this really cool project last year. And I've been nominated for an award for it! I'm excited. If you want to take a look, it's an online publication of student pieces (both art & written) from the College where I work. Check out Nota Bene.
And here's some new Grace. This is a shorter chapter than usual, but hey, that's the way it turned out. Still no smut, sorry. I think it'll happen, but Oz and Xander are taking their own sweet time, that's for sure, and as always there must be roadblocks, etc etc. Previous chapters can be found here. Thanks to all those who continue to read and leave feedback, it's much appreciated!
_____________________________________________________
Grace part 7
By the time he stopped shaking enough to get his act together and find the house, it was after one o'clock. Xander couldn't believe how long he'd stayed in the back seat waiting for the attack to run its course, it was like the world stood still during those things. He was lucky no-one had noticed the shivering lump that was him and called the cops. Could be that North Bend, Oregon was more like Sunnydale than he thought.
Xander did a double take when he pulled into the driveway. Oz's truck was already there, which meant his devious plan to just leave had been thwarted. And hey, wasn't Oz supposed to be at work? Maybe he could sneak through the back door and at least get to the shower before having to talk to anyone. Xander let himself in quietly but heard voices in the living room. Damn.
He peered around the corner and saw Oz sitting on the couch holding Paddy, who was obviously home from school early and in some kind of distress. Uncertain whether he should walk through or not, Xander contemplated just going back to his car but the need to clean off the remnants of his weakness was urgent. Trying to be unobtrusive he edged along the wall, but Oz caught his eye. Should have known he couldn't get anything past that guy, including himself. Damn again.
"Hey. Where've you been?"
"Just went for a drive."
"You don't look too good."
"Gee, thanks. I was on my way to the shower, in fact." Xander started moving toward the hallway again, hoping he could escape, but Oz spoke again, this time to Paddy.
"You gonna be ok if I leave you here with Uncle Xander for a bit?"
Xander's head swiveled around and he opened his mouth to protest at least two of the assumptions that had just been made, but he saw Paddy nod almost right away. And then turn to look at him with pain and sadness in his damp eyes, a kind of anguish no-one should see in a child. His objections died on his lips. That look was so familiar, Xander felt almost as thought he was seeing himself in a mirror. Like he used to. Like he still did sometimes, when he dared to check his reflection.
Oz took Paddy to his room, and came back swiftly. "I just need to take care of one more job this afternoon, but I'm not sure how long it will take."
"What exactly do you do anyway?"
"Process server," Oz said, as he attempted to straighten his tie.
"As in, delivering legal papers to people who don't want them?" Xander asked, stepping forward to adjust the knot at Oz's neck until it lay flat.
"Yeah, that's it."
"Isn't that a kind of dangerous job?" The question's inherent irony was ignored by both of them, and Xander left his hands on Oz's shoulders.
"The hours are good," was all Oz said.
"I was going to leave."
"Figured you might. But I didn't ask you to stay with Paddy for that." Oz touched his cheek lightly for a second, and it stirred Xander in all sorts of bad ways. "Won't keep you here against your will."
Xander was tempted to let Oz know that his will kept changing its damn mind, but decided that was a conversation for never and stepped back before the last of his earlier resolutions went out the window. "I'll stay at least until you're done with work today."
"Thanks. He'll be ok. And you'll tell me when I get back, about whatever happened this morning."
Great. It wasn't until Oz had walked away for what seemed like the millionth time already that the reality of the situation struck him. He'd been mired in his own agony and ready to bolt, now he not only had to stay put, he also had to help someone else. And not just anybody, Oz's nephew. A child. Who apparently thought of him as Uncle Xander. And who was crying again. Shit. He had no clue how to deal with this, especially since Oz had neglected to tell him what the actual problem was.
He knocked tentatively on Paddy's door but went ahead in when there was no response. The room was messy, the crying unmistakable. Sitting on the bed, Xander reached out to touch a shoulder and was startled when he suddenly had a lap full of bawling, gangly pre-teen. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around the skinny frame, murmuring assurances and rubbing gentle circles on Paddy's back.
"I miss her," were the only words he could make out, but they were enough for him to understand what was going on. The poor kid wanted his mother.
He was relieved to know this had nothing to do with supernatural badness, but that fact didn't lessen the heartbreak any, and he pulled the boy closer until sobs subsided to sniffles and finally silence. Paddy had cried himself to sleep. Xander wished he could do the same.
