Moving Forward

Part One

The afternoon Scooby meeting was wrapping up, finally, when Xander felt Willow's hand on his arm.

"I was thinking, maybe I could walk you back home today?"

Xander look at his best friend, confused. "Wills, you live in the complete opposite direction. Why do you want to walk me all the way to my apartment, just to turn and walk back to the dorms? Besides, as the token white knight of the group, aren't I supposed to be the one escorting the lovely damsels?"

"And when did you become so consumed with traditional gender roles, Alexander Lavelle Harris?"

He paused, considering. "I think it might have something to do with those John Wayne movies I've been watching all weekend. You know - men are men, women are women. I could feel the testosterone being fostered in my veins the whole time."

"You and your testosterone again. So, are you gonna let me walk you home, or am I gonna have to hurt you?"

As they left Giles's patio and headed into the afternoon sunshine, Xander took a good look at his friend. "Why do I suddenly have the feeling that you only want to walk with me so you can pump me for some kind of information?"

"I prefer to think of it as prying."

"Ah, yes. The glue that holds our friendship together."

Willow looked at him seriously. "I just thought maybe I could get you alone and talk about whatever's bothering you."

"Whatever's bothering me?" he repeated.

"Exactly. That's what you have fifteen minutes to spill."

"But what if I said there was nothing bothering me?"

"Then I'd know that you were lying, and I'd get *very* cranky."

Xander was silent for a few minutes, weighing his options. Finally, the obvious concern Willow had for him, plus his own desire to talk to someone about it, overran the reservations he had about sharing his problem.

"You know how Angel came up a couple of weeks ago to masquerade as weirdo-stalker guy for a couple of days? He didn't come alone. He had thins...friend with him, a guy who works with him in L.A. Doyle."

"The one who called on the cell phone? And he was outside bashing spirit heads with us, too," she remembered, still feeling a bit guilty about it all.

"Yeah, that was him. I guess you guys didn't really get a chance to meet him or anything. I did. The night before, he came to work with me and we ended up going back to my basement together."

Seeing that her eyes were about to fall out of her head, Xander quickly clarified, "But we didn't actually have time for more than a few gropes the next morning, before he had to go meet Angel again. I mean, it wasn't a big deal. I'm sure he has one night stands that are a lot more...extensive than that. I'm sure he's forgotten it already."

"But you haven't."

He sighed. "No. I mean, it was just so sweet, somehow. And I really liked talking to him. Plus, he dresses a little like I do, so I don't feel like such a fashion reject around him. It must be hell for him, working with Cordelia everyday..."

A steel-eyed glare from Willow forced him onto the subject at hand.

"So, you liked him. A lot."

"Yeah." He nodded glumly.

"What's so depressing about that? Maybe he feels the same way."

"He doesn't," he said, in a tone that brooked no argument. Well, no argument from anyone but Willow.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I am." Seeing the glare begin to build again, he relented. "Because he was happy with just leaving town without even saying goodbye to me. Because I practically had to force my phone number into his hand, and then he only gave me his because he had to. And for ...other reasons." There was no way that Xander was going to have a discussion with his best friend about Doyle's sudden rejection of his advances on Thursday morning. It was simply too humiliating, even for the friend he had told everything to for most of his life.

"He didn't give you any kind of reason...?"

"Well, he did, kinda, but it sounded like more of an excuse than anything. He probably would have said anything at that point to get rid of me."

Willow frowned at him. "Don't get all pity-me-Xander on me. Maybe it wasn't an excuse. Maybe you just misread all of his signals. Maybe he is interested."

Xander shrugged. "It's not like I can call him up and ask him."

"Sure you can." When he shot her an incredulous look, she amended, "Well, obviously you have to be subtle. Just call him up and start talking to him. See if he sounds happy to hear from you."

"No."

"Xander.."

"No."

Faced with such drastic obstinacy, at first Willow pretended flippancy. "Fine, don't take my advice." Then she went in for the kill. "Your track record with relationships really proves that you are much more the scholar of human nature than I am, and that your natural inclinations are always correct when dealing with someone you like. I'm sure if you think he doesn't care, you must be right."

Xander looked at her for a long moment before he let himself into his basement and collapsed onto his couch face first.

He so didn't want to think about this right now.

After awhile, he sat up and switched on the television, making very apparent how much he was *not* thinking about picking up the phone.

As he flipped through the channels, he glanced over, but only to make sure there weren't any messages. Then he had to get up and make sure the answering machine was working properly. Then he checked to see if the jack was securely fastened to the wall. Finally, he picked up the headset and made sure there was a dial tone. And, since he had the thing in his hand already, he really should make a call. *Not* to Doyle. Just...to anyone. Cordelia! It had been ages since he had talked to Cordelia. Let's see...almost five o'clock. She'd probably be at work. The fact that Doyle was probably also there was really just a big, fat coincidence, he kept telling himself. Really.

He tried to ignore the fact that there were definite butterflies dancing around in his stomach as the phone rang once, twice, thr-

"Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless!" Good, it was Cordelia. He tried to pretend what he was feeling was relief and not at all disappointment.

"Cordy?"

"Oh my God - Xander!" At least she still knew his voice.

"Hey Cordy, how's it going?"

"Unbelievable! Xander, I haven't talked to you in forever! I'm - wait a minute. You're not calling to say the world's ending or anything, are you?"

"N-"

"Or to yell at Angel for being all weird and stalkesque a couple of weeks ago? Because Buffy was already here for that, and that was enough for anyone. Angel's still pulling extra broody duty to make up for it."

"No. Really. No ulterior motives [liar], I just wanted to call and see how Los Angeles is."

"It's great! I'm really meeting all the right people, and soon I'll be able to quit this job and act full-time. I had this audition just this week for Jergens -" Xander listened to her go on and on about her career, only being required to make the minimal "I am still here and awake" noises on his end of the line. He slowly drifted into a trance state, only to be abruptly broken out of his haze sometime later by Cordelia needing an actual answer to a question.

"What?"

"I said that you should come and visit for a few days. I just got this great apartment, and you could be my first houseguest!"

The various possibilities and dangers this entailed briefly ran through Xander's mind. Before he could answer, though, Cordelia had done it for him.

"So, great! I'll see you on Friday. If you're coming to town on the bus, you should probably just meet me at the office and we'll get dinner on the way home from here. Okay? Here, let me give you the address..." And she rattled it off almost too fast for him to write down.

"Anyway, it's after five, and someone around here doesn't pay his slave laborers overtime. I'll see you in a couple of days."

"Okay," Xander heard himself say just before he hung up the phone. It was only after it was hung up that he sat staring at it, wondering what he might have just gotten himself into.

Part Two

It was a question Xander was still pondering as he walked up to the address that Cordy had given him. It was a large building, with what looked like many offices inside. He wasn't sure if Doyle would be there or not, but he had spent the last two days rehearsing a nonchalant look in the mirror, just in case he ended up in close conversation with the slender Irishman. The teenager had no idea what Cordelia had planned for him to do all weekend, but somehow he had the feeling it was not going to be the relaxing time away from home that he desperately needed. Knowing Cordy, she'd be dragging him from one A-list party to another.

Not that usually he would have minded the grand tour, and he was glad that she enjoyed at least some aspect of her new life. But he just wasn't up to it right now. He especially didn't want to be dragged to a party and then left alone all night as Cordy schmoozed. With a shake of his head, he opened the large outer doors and quickly zeroed in on the smaller door for Angel Investigations. Drawing up the last of his courage, he pushed his way in.

Cordelia was sitting alone at a large desk, painting her fingernails and reading a magazine at the same time. "Xander!" she cried, seeing him slouching in the doorway.

She jumped up and attempted to hug him while keeping her nails from touching anything. "I can't believe it! You're like, the first Scooby to be here. Well, except for Oz. And Buffy. But you made it before Willow or Giles! What do you think of our offices?"

"They're nice," he said, glancing around. Not seeing any sign of Angel or Doyle, he couldn't keep from asking, "So where's the boss man?"

"Oh, they're down in Angel's apartment, trying to figure out if this old sword is dedicated to Abandinus or Hafgan. I'm excused from research duty today because I get to sit up here and wait for any walk-in clients and you. But since there obviously aren't any clients (big surprise," she added under her breath) "now you're going to sit down and tell me absolutely everything that has been happening in Sunnydale. Where'd they build the new high school? What's everyone up to?"

For the next hour and a half, Xander talked practically nonstop, informing Cordelia about everything from the insanely trivial ("The shoe store on Redwood Ave. put up a new awning") to actual news ("There are these commando guys in town"). Toward the end of the hour, he was aware of the sound of machinery moving around in the office next door, and then the unmistakable voices of Doyle and Angel floated over to him.

"We'll have to go back to the museum and see if we can find the other one. If it has the same symbols - " Angel stopped short as he entered the outer office and spotted the young man sitting in the client chair. "Xander. I didn't hear you arrive.

The brunette stood and looked over at Angel in the doorway, suddenly unable to look at the green-eyed man behind him. "Hi," he said, just a little shakily.

The vampire turned his attention to Cordelia, much to Xander's relief. "We're going to head back to the museum to look around some more. If you want to leave early, you can."

Cordy smiled. "Good. I wanted to take Xander to that cute little Japanese restaurant near the Farmer's Market, and you know it's impossible to get a seat after six." She looked over at her friend. "Ready to go?"

Nodding, Xander retrieved his bag from where he had dropped it at the foot of his chair. Straightening up, he hazarded a quick glance over to where the slighter man was standing, only to suddenly find himself drowning in twin seas of green. The two men continued staring at each other until Cordelia's voice broke through the thick smog which seemed to have replaced Xander's brain. "Xander, you've met Doyle, right? Well, tomorrow night I sort of have this...thing to go to, and it wouldn't be any fun for you, so I figured you'd rather do something else while I'm there. Doyle said he'd show you around while I'm busy, if you wanted. Right?" she asked, looking over at Doyle.

The older man broke eye contact first as he turned to look at Cordelia. "Yup, Princess." He turned and looked at Xander again, this time being careful to avoid the youth's eyes. "There's lots of places I'm familiar with that won't be part of Cordy's star-studded tour, so I'm sure we'll find somethin to do. That is, if we find this other sword before then. Otherwise, we might end up just hanging around here, researching."

At that, Xander couldn't help but smile. "Research I can do. It might be nice to get out and go somewhere, though..."

"Yeah, well, we'll just hope it's at the museum, then. I'm not really looking forward to spending my weekend working either, to tell you the truth."

Angel had been watching this exchange with a somewhat troubled expression, as if he were trying to pin down a subtext that wasn't there. Finally he sighed and looked at Doyle. "Speaking of the museum, the sooner we get there, the sooner we'll know about our weekend plans."

"Right, right." Doyle got his jacket from the hook next to the door, then turned to Xander one last time. "I'll meet you here, then, tomorrow night?"

It was Cordelia who answered. "Seven-ish."

There was unmistakable warmth in the green eyes as he winked at the young man. "Until tomorrow, then." Xander smiled back before Cordelia dragged him out of the office, shutting the door firmly behind them.

Xander looked back at it, then at her. "Wait, aren't they coming this way, too?"

"Uh-uh. Daylight and flammable vampire don't mix. They'll take the icky sewer tunnels instead."

"Oh."

Over dinner, he found himself thinking more and more of Doyle's wink and what it might have meant. It was good that he had this enigma to ponder as Cordelia spent the meal prattling on and on about her Hollywood life, mainly repeating the things that she had already told Xander over the phone earlier in the week.

On the way back to her apartment, he did let the fact that he was currently unemployed slip, after quitting his bartending job the day before. This admission was met with Cordelia's own brand of sarcasm/sympathy, which Xander abruptly realized had been missing from his life for months. It felt good to have it back, if only for a weekend.

As he lay back on the couch that night, he thought about what tomorrow night might bring. He tried to convince himself he wasn't excited, but the nervous grins that kept appearing on his face attested otherwise. He was excited, but he was also uneasy. What if nothing happened? Was he supposed to make the first move? What if that was the last thing Doyle wanted? What if the older man was only entertaining him as a favor to Cordelia? All night long, these thoughts chased themselves around his head until he finally fell into an exhausted doze just before dawn.

On to Next Part