InsaneJournal

Fic: Private Eyes - (18+)
Pairing: Xander/Riley
Disclaimer - the characters/situations are copyrighted to Mutant Enemy, Joss Whedon and Quentin Tarantino and no money is being made. These are not my characters. I just can't keep myself from playing with them.
Rating - NC-17
Warnings: sex and violence, baby, yeah!
A.N.: Many thanks to my betas non_timebo_mala and finn. Very special thanks to lisaroquin for her crash course on Midwest living and geography, and to pennyproud for helping me out with the Boston setting. I couldn't have pulled this off without you, guys.
Feedback: Yes! YES! YES!

Enjoy!




Isis Jones watched the computer screens attentively, but everything so far was proceeding without a hitch.

The process was insanely complicated, drawing simultaneously on state of the art gene therapy, geomancy and sorcery, and though she'd designed it, Isis couldn't help but feel just a little bit out of her depth.

The experiment reached its apex and the machinery abruptly switched tones, then the golden light of the three coins dimmed noticeably as the geomantic energy started receding.

She waited for it to drop to safe levels then rushed to check on Malik. The moment she entered the room, she felt faint, and when she headed towards the hospital bed, she saw him standing next to it, looking confused.

"Mom?"

She froze in shock. He looked ... perfect. Healthy and long-limbed the way his father has been, with powerful muscles. He was finally cured.

"My baby!"

They hugged and she felt an indescribable emotion. Isis's lifetime's work of saving her son and giving him a normal life had finally been achieved. Her son was whole.

"How touching," said a voice behind them.

Isis spun around just in time to see Alexeï enter the room.

The Russian stood tall and proud, looking every inch the aristocrat, cool blue eyes surveying the room. With his model good looks and dandy-like appearance, he seemed to belong more in a cocktail party than in the dingy grey warehouse she'd turned into her lab.

"It seems, Doctor Jones," he added with a tilt of the head, "that your experiment was a success."

"As far as I can tell." She helped Malik lie down again, then approached the newcomer. "What brings you here, Alexeï?"

Alexeï brushed off an invisible piece of lint. "I was tipped off. The FBI and FDA are headed here. It appears that your ... unorthodox ways to acquire the fresh human neurons and embryonic stem cells you needed for your experiments has finally come to the government's attention."

She nodded. "I understand. The process required a few final tweaks due to a tricky variable. I'll type them out for you and e-mail it. You can have the coins back. It seems our association is at an end."

He nodded. "Indeed it is."

Buying the black market embryos was a gamble, but she didn't want to indebt herself more to Alexeï's people, and in the end, it had been worth it. She gave the man a polite smile. "I can't say I never considered this might happen. Fortunately, I planned contingencies. My son and I will be out of the country in less than 12 hours."

"I'm afraid there is a little problem in that regard. You see, your son is coming with me."

"What?"

"My backers believe your experiment might be easier to recreate with detailed anatomical data on the first subject."

Isis felt a shiver travel down her spine. "But ... it's pointless. Did you tell them that? Getting this data from Malik is impossible without vivisecting him ..."

His voice was perfectly even as he interrupted her. "They know."

Isis shuddered. "I see."

Alexeï was a devious man and he did try to dodge, but as she thrust her arm at him, the telekinetic blast caught him full in the chest, throwing him back in a not-so-graceful parabola straight into the row of generators.

The lights around the lab started flickering and a shower of sparks came out of one of the nearby monitors. One of the sensor arrays was crackling with electricity like a Jacob's ladder. The whole place was going to blow up. She had to get Malik out.

She grabbed her son and with the energy that comes from desperation, started leading his half-conscious body to the exit. But even the adrenalin wasn't enough to reach it in time. The blast knocked her off her feet right next to the hole she'd tried to reach.

Then her whole world turned to fire.

* * * * *

Alexeï watched the federal agents surround the burning building from a nearby rooftop, then looked at the three golden coins in his hand.

He was saddened by Doctor Jones's passing. She's been a fascinating and formidable woman. Still, it would spare him the trouble of having to orchestrate her tragic accidental demise. It was even more unfortunate that Doctor Jones denied him access to her son. Still, it was an inconvenient but overall minor setback. Alexeï already had almost all her notes. Recreating the experiment should be easy enough.

And then nothing would be able to stop him.

* * * * *

one year later.

Ulud'nema hid behind a dumpster and looked at the entrance of the alley.

New York had been great feeding ground, the best he'd found since he came from Africa, and in retrospect, he probably should have left sooner.

But the women here loved him. They loved his smile, his dark skin and deep green eyes. They lusted for him, craving him. Ulud'nema had wanted to sate himself and he had, and the women had screamed so sweetly and there were few who could pose a threat to one of his kind. Though he looked like them, he was stronger and faster than any human, a perfect predator, and no female could resist him, making him safe from the Slayer. The one he'd met in Miami a decade ago had gone down in an instant.

He heard the faint scraping sound behind him, and ducked just in time to avoid being beheaded.

He rolled away and came to his feet, staring at long last at the one hunting him. It was a tall human dressed in a hoody sweatshirt and baggy pants. He seemed entirely unremarkable except for two things. The wraparound sunglasses and the sleek Japanese blade which had almost killed Ulud'nema a few seconds ago.

Ulud'nema stared at him for a long moment. "Who are you?"

The hunter said nothing, what could be seen of his face expressionless, merely moving to attack with a single-minded ferocity Ulud'nema had never seen in a human.

Ulud'nema willed soft hands into razor-sharp claws and joined the fight. While he loathed violence, that did not mean he wasn't good at it. His claws kept his foe's weapon at bay and counter-attacked, whistling through the air mere inches away from the human's throat, but somehow the hunter managed to dodge and evade all his attacks.

Ulud'nema charged him and the human jumped up, grabbing a rusty fire-escape ladder and swinging on it to hit him in the face with a brutal double kick that sent him sprawling among the dirty newspaper and refuse that littered the alley.

Ulud'nema got to his feet watching his opponent cautiously. The human waved his blade with incredible speed, advancing on him and as Ulud'nema prepared to dodge it, he never saw the kick coming. His kneecap shattered with a crunching sound and Ulud'nema screamed in agony, limping back, then charged again, managing to swat the weapon out of the hunter's hand.

The blade skidded beneath the dumpster and the human was left unarmed.

Ulud'nema smiled.

The human seemed unaffected, dropping into a martial arts stance, light on his feet and ready to fight. Ulud'nema was no longer worried. That human was good and Ulud'nema was injured, but incubus hide was tough and his claws were sharp.

Moving slowly and prudently, he attacked. The human dodged and seemed to retreat. Ulud'nema saw fear on the human face and it was right. Humans were meant to fear his kind. He lunged and the human danced to the side, then joined his hands and, dropping to a crouch, brutally rammed his elbow into Ulud'nema's kidneys.

The demon sprawled again, screaming in pain at being hit in his most vulnerable spot, and by the time he got back on his feet, the human was standing twenty feet away, his blade in his hands once again. They stared at each other for a disquietly long moment, knowing this was the end, then charged.

Ulud'nema's claws flew with impossible speed at the human and missed. The human spun to the side, adding the momentum of his movement to the blade before bringing it down on Ulud'nema's neck.

And Ulud'nema was no more.

* * * * *

Riley distractedly traced the rim of his glass with his finger.

He'd lost count of his drinks at some earlier point in the evening, but it didn't really matter, since getting fired from his construction job was definitely a 'getting shit-faced' kind of event. It's not that Riley needed any particular reason to get drunk these days -- which in retrospect probably hadn't helped him keep his job -- but an excuse was always nice: after all, rationalization was the losers' sport of choice.

Flannagan's was pretty crappy as bars went, but then again, Denison wasn't known for its sophisticated nightlife. The drinks weren't too watered down, the employees weren't too unpleasant, and they knew Riley well-enough that no one bothered him and he had his own booth in the back. That's pretty much everything someone like him could ask for.

Wednesdays were always slow and the place was almost empty. Aside from the couple of packhouse workers at the bar and three tables near the door, there was only Riley. That suited him just fine. Lance, the bartender, was repetitively drying the same glass while watching beach volleyball on ESPN with an expression somewhere between faint lust and mind-numbing boredom. Betty was reading People magazine in a corner and Anna divided her attention rather unevenly between serving what few patrons were there and her Harlequin novel.

He was almost done with his current shot of bourbon and was building a tiny pyramid out of toothpicks when a shadow suddenly covered his table.

Riley didn't even bother to spare the person a glance. "I'm good, Anna."

The voice was not at all feminine, vaguely amused, and surprisingly familiar. "Is Anna the one with Marilyn hair, or the one with Reba hair?"

Riley finally dropped the toothpicks and looked up.

He looked very different from the last time Riley had seen him. He'd been chunky back when they last met, but tonight, he seemed lean, surprisingly fit, and his clothing, though still questionable, was a lot more sensible than Riley would have expected from him. Unexpectedly, his shaggy longer haircut and stubble made him look younger too, boyish in a way that Riley had never known him to be. But the big change was the eye. In the relative darkness of the bar, it gleamed eerily, a glassy hellmouthy green that sent shivers down Riley's back and killed his buzz in seconds.

"Xander. Long time no see."

The grin was one thing that hadn't changed: goofy, self-depreciating and just a bit too wise. "You mind if I join you?"

Riley gestured at the bench across from him, and Xander put his beer on the table and slid into the booth.

"So. What brings a California boy like you to Iowa?"

Xander seemed to consider his answer for a moment, then flashed Riley a brief grin. "Business."

Riley snorted and took a sip from his glass. "And how is business?"

"Same old, same old."

"Nice eye."

"Nice tatt," answered Xander, his lips quirked into a faint smile.

Riley looked at the huge spiderweb on his shoulder and grinned. "You know what they say: if you can't be a good example, you'll just have to be a horrible warning. Bt the way, don't ever get too wasted in Mexico."

Xander's smile was cynical. "Yeah well, don't run with scissors either."

There was a moment of comfortable silence. Out of all the Scooby Gang, Xander had always been the only one to be something of a friend, someone to whom Riley could relate and, on occasions, talk to. Riley had, all in all, precious few good memories from Sunnydale, but he did have some of them.

"How's Buffy?"

"Italy. Doing good. She hasn't died in three whole years. We're all very proud."

Riley chuckled. He'd missed Sunnydale humor. "That's good. The others?"

"Dawn is with her. Willow and Giles are rebuilding the council in England. Andrew is helping out in LA."

"Anya?"

"Dead."

Another stretch of silence, this one not comfortable at all.

"I'm sorry for your ..."

"I know." The answer was sharp and final. That was not a topic Xander seemed willing to discuss. "What about you? How is single life going for you?"

"It goes." What else was there to say when your wife had dumped you for your CO? Xander's question -- hell, his mere presence -- was too informed to be a guess, and Riley quietly wondered just how much he knew. Probably more than Riley would be comfortable with him knowing.

"Does it?" There was a note of genuine concern in Xander's voice.

Riley could only sigh. "What do you want, Xander?"

"Can't I check on an old friend?"

"You can. But we both know you're too busy saving the world to make social calls. So again I ask: what do you want?"

"To offer you a job."

"No."

"You haven't even heard me out yet."

"It'll still be no. I'm out. And I intend to stay out."

Xander squirmed a bit in his seat. "Come on. You know me. I wouldn't ruin it for you if you had a good thing going on. But I can't help but notice you're here while your family is still in Mount Pleasant. No job, no friends, no family, no home ... is there anything here so important that you couldn't leave?"

"My peace of mind."

That surprised a laugh out of Xander. "You're so full of crap. I suppose it doesn't matter: we can talk about it again tomorrow since I'm crashing at your place tonight."

Riley raised an eyebrow. "You are?"

"Yup." Then Xander flashed him the dimples. "I'll bug you again then. Tonight, let's drink to old friends and good times."

Riley smiled. "I'll drink to that."

* * * * *

Xander sat by the window and waited for the sun to rise. He didn't need as much sleep these days.

Iowa was nice, but too sedate for him. When you'd spent every moment since you turned sixteen fighting demons, there was something downright unnatural about places where little happened.

It was so odd to look back and see how much, even put in perspective by his insane life, the last year had changed him. And it felt even weirder to realize even people who knew him well only noticed the physical changes. As used to being overlooked as he was, it still felt strange.

He sipped his coffee and looked at the faint grey-green glow on the horizon, lost in his memories.


Xander ran a hand through his hair. "Look I understand everything you say, I do, but I still think we should give it a shot."

Buffy sighed. "She's way too dangerous!"

"Look, let's say we do hand her to the cops. What are they going to charge her with? Bargaining with demons? Illegally attempting to have her eyes regrown? Besides, we both know some Wolfram&Harty guy will show up to offer her another deal."

"Have you even read the stuff Willow found on her? She's a *menace*."

Xander rubbed his left eye tiredly and Willow touched his arm with a look of concern on her face.

"Are you okay?"

Xander gave her a small smile. "I'm good, Wills. There isn't any problem. I'm just ... getting used to it again." He then turned towards Buffy. "Buffy, whether due to hyena possession or black magic addiction or just plain bad disposition, there isn't one person in our group who hasn't been a black hat at one point. Angel and Spike did much worse."

"Xander, they were soulless demons! She's a human."

"Yes, she's a human. No magic, no superpowers, no *eyes*, and it still took two slayers to take her down. We don't have anyone with that kind of training."

Willow cut in, looking worried. "Lets just say for one second that we try it. How do we keep her from turning on us the first chance she gets?"

"Come on. You know you can do it."

Willow gasped and glared at him. "Now you wait a second! Xander, that stuff is a whole lot blacker than I like my magic, and even if I were to put a leash on her, someone still has to hold it."

"And I can do it. I'm the one who needs the training most anyway."

Buffy threw her hands up in frustration. "Xander, we can't spare you."

"Of course you can. I'm ... Aquaman!"

"What?!"

"You know, Aquaman. All he can do is talk to fishes, he's always bumming a ride in Wonder Woman's invisible jet because he can't get anywhere on his own, and whenever the big battle happens, he always just stands there watching the other JLA guys do all the fighting. Buffy, I can't fight like a slayer, I can't cast spells, and now that Giles recruited the survivors of the old Watchers' Council, you have better people for research. You never really needed me, and now that you have all these new people, I'm completely useless. But if I can get her to train me to be even half as dangerous as she is, not only can I help again, but I can teach others what she taught me, and we could all use that kind of training."

The girls looked at each other, doing that silent communication thing that Xander used to be able to do with Willow, and then looked at him.

Willow had her resolve face on, which was either very good or very bad.


Xander was brought out of his reverie by the sound of Riley getting up. He heard a flushing sound, and then Riley shambled like a zombie out of the bedroom, wearing only sweat pants and heading straight for the coffee.

Xander grinned and sipped his own cup. "Sleep well?"

Riley froze.

He looked at Xander for a long moment, obviously trying to shake off the alcoholic fog that shrouded his memories of the previous night, then grunted and scratched his belly.

Xander tried not to laugh. "Do you remember anything at all?"

"Not much."

"Not even our mad passionate sex?"

"Oh, put a sock in it." Riley grunted again and started downing coffee at an impressive rate, gradually looking more conscious. "So."

"So."

"What did we talk about?"

"Your new job."

"No way."

"Yes, way. We even have a videoconference with Giles in twenty minutes."

"What?"

Xander indicated a state of the art laptop set up on the table and connected to an expensive-looking cellphone. "Willow says they fell off the back of a truck. I learned long ago not to argue with witches. Since we're all so spread out, it helps us keep in touch."

Riley rubbed his face tiredly. "Whatever. I need a shower."

Xander watched him go and tried not to smile. Once upon a time, he wasn't much of a morning person either. He set up the webcam and started running the programs. Riley was barely back when a chirping sound indicated Giles was ready.

A few mouse clicks and his tired face appeared on the computer screen."Xander, Riley, good morning to you both."

Xander grinned. "Hey, boss. Any news?"

Giles nodded. "Yes, definitely Boston. We have two different anomalies."

Xander frowned. "Two?"

"Yes, not only is there a serial killer of possible demonic nature who murdered several gay men in the area, but also some geomantic anomalies of which our contacts among the witches of nearby Salem informed us."

Riley approached the computer. "Why would the serial killer be demonic?"

"The autopsy reports indicate an attacker with inhuman strength and in each victim, the skull was opened and a specific portion of the brain removed."

Xander sighed. "When are we leaving?"

"I've e-mailed you the information about your electronic tickets. You should be in Boston tonight."

Xander nodded. "And ..."

Giles smiled grimly. "She's already there. She'll pick you both up at the airport."

"Thanks, Giles."

"Good luck to you both."

The communication stopped and Xander turned the computer off before looking at Riley. "You should go get ready. "

* * * * *

He felt his heart rise in his chest when he saw the door was open. He pushed it lightly and it swung open with an ominous creaking sound.

He took a few steps inside and found the place empty.

Arkady's apartment was a simple but comfortable one-bedroom in Back Bay. The living room had grey walls, large windows and black furniture. It should, by all rights, look like a mortician's waiting room, but through sheer slobbiness, Arkady managed to make the place look like a college dorm room. There were empty boxes of Chinese food piled up on the coffee table and magazines scattered all over the place.

Still, there was something vaguely eerie about the silence. Arkady almost always had music playing.

He closed the door behind him and headed for the bedroom. When he reached the door, he froze.

Arkady was lying on the floor, unseeing eyes staring at the ceiling. He knelt next to him, closing his eyes with a quick prayer.

Then he turned around and ran.

* * * * *

Riley wondered how it was that Xander had persuaded him so easily. As hazy as his memories were, he knew all too well that he must have said no, yet here he was, standing in a crappy little one-bedroom in a run-down area of Cambridge. The place had obviously seen better days, a long long time ago.

"Not exactly a palace."

Xander winced but a cold voice cut in before he could answer. "No, but it was never meant to be. It's fully-equipped, discreet, out of the way, the surrounding apartments are empty giving us privacy, and it's paid for in cash so completely untraceable in case of a hurried departure."

Having apparently met her quota of words for the day, 'Cinnamon' started opening the leather bags she'd brought along, handing Xander some papers and enough assorted weaponry to start a small war.

She'd picked them up at Logan airport and had barely opened her mouth since then. The woman set off alarm bells in Riley's head that he never even knew were there. She was tall and wide-shouldered, her long blond hair in a practical ponytail, yet she was also feminine, if in a somewhat predatory way, with her black pantsuit and her wraparound sunglasses. Riley suspected she might even be beautiful if she smiled. He would probably never know.

The woman finished going over her checklist with Xander and left without a word, leaving the two alone.

Xander cleared his throat nervously. "So. I'm thinking you have questions?"

Riley knew he should put the man at ease. He didn't want to. "Yes."

Xander sat down on a battered armchair and looked up at him. "Ask them."

"You do have a plan, right?"

"Yes. No worries."

"I'm listening."

"For now, we're still looking for whatever killed those guys, so we need information. I divided the tasks. Cinnamon has some pretty shady friends, so she'll be snooping around for information on that side."

"What's her deal?"

Xander cringed slightly. "Just ... don't worry about her. I'll handle her. She's very very good at what she does."

"And let me guess: beneath the gruff exterior is a heart of gold."

"Um ... no. She's pretty much a full-on bitch 24/7."

"And what will we be doing?"

"Well, I'll be bar-hopping among the local gay watering holes, both here and in Boston, to fish for information until we have a lead. You're going to be our brains. Willow hacked into the local police department and FBI office. Everything the cops have so far is in the computer. I need you to review everything and see if you can come up with theories."

"Why me? No offense, Xander, but I'm far better suited for the streets than you are."

"Riley, the first guy to pinch your butt would end up in the hospital. You couldn't get anyone to believe you're gay and out to party for even a second. And to be honest, you're way smarter than me, Doctor Finn. A doctor in psychology is a way better choice for research. You can maybe profile whatever is going on."

"Xander, the FBI has far better profilers."

"Yes, but they don't know about demons. You do."

Riley sighed. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, man. I'm really grateful you're here to help. The doughnut squad really needed a brain to help us handle this stuff."

"The doughnut squad?"

"Yeah, because we handle the doughnut runs." Seeing Riley didn't get it, he carried on. "I used to get the doughnuts back in our highschool days when we researched, so a 'doughnut run' in ScoobySpeak means a job for a regular human. Our team handles those jobs that for some reason the slayers can't."

That's all Riley was these days apparently, a regular human. He couldn't quite hide the bitterness in his voice. "And why did the slayers pass on this one? Too busy?"

"There's supposedly a creature in the area that feeds on magic. Giles confirmed it through several friends he has in Salem. Slayers and witches are vulnerable, so regular humans will handle this."

"Is Cinnamon really her name, or is she going with the doughnut theme?"

"She's Cinnamon, Giles is Pastry Chef, I'm Chocolate and you're Strawberry."

Riley was outraged. "I am not Strawberry!"

"But Strawberry is delicious and sweet. It's a good codename for you."

"Xander, I'm a former covert ops operative. Strawberry?"

"Riley, your last codename was Lilac."

Riley groaned. "I need a beer."

Xander gave him a kind smile. "Maybe later. For now, you have some reading to do and I need to get ready to go out."

Riley was surprised Xander was ready to party given how early he'd been up. "Already?"

Xander shrugged. "Bad guys don't take the night off. By the way, before I forget." He pulled an envelope from his jacket. "Here's your first paycheck and your private investigator license." At Riley's raised eyebrow, Xander simply shrugged. "Willow figured it would help us in case we need to deal with the cops. Cops in Boston can't be as oblivious as in Sunnydale. There's coffee in the kitchenette and the password to my laptop is 'Tara'. Good luck."

With a tired sigh, Riley got to work.

* * * * *

Riley opened bleary eyes and looked up to see Xander bent over him.

"Hey."

Xander smiled, offering a cup of coffee. "Hey, yourself."

The last thing Riley remembered was resting his eyes for a second. Riley looked down and saw that at some point during the night, Xander had put away his notes, removed his shoes, unbuttoned his shirt, gently rearranged him to lie more comfortably along the sofa and put a blanket on him. It was upsettingly sweet. Riley mumbled something and grabbed the coffee.

Xander grinned and headed back towards the kitchenette. "I'm making scrambled eggs. Want some?"

"Yeah, thanks." Riley finished his coffee, sat up and watched Xander putter around the kitchenette making breakfast. "How did it go last night?"

Xander smirked. "Well, a few clues, lots of phone numbers, and a new job gogo dancing."

"Are you fucking joking?"

"Hey, don't diss the gogo boys! We're, like, gay aristocracy!"

Riley put down the cup and rubbed his face with the palms of his hands. "And you don't have a problem shaking your ass for gay guys?"

Xander merely shrugged as he scooped the eggs onto the plates. "Not really. It pays well, gives me a social status that encourages them to talk to me, and I don't even have to take my clothes off."

"You terrify me."

Xander laughed, placing the plate in front of Riley. "Eat your eggs."

Riley did. Xander turned out to be a good cook. "So what clues did you get?"

"The guys who disappeared were all guys out to party on their own and they all frequented the same clubs, which aren't always the ones the cops are keeping a close eye on. The job I got is at the newest club in town. It's called the Blue Bacchus. That's all I have so far, but hopefully I'll find out more. What about you?"

Riley looked at the pile of papers. "If it's a demon, his approach may well be ruthlessly utilitarian. I suspect his choice of victims could be as well. Gay men being as controversial as they are, there won't be anywhere near as much political pressure to catch a serial killer that targets them. It makes it easier for him to prey on them and elude law enforcement. Nine guys died so far. The FBI task force assigned to the case is ridiculously small considering the body count. And I don't expect there will be an increase either."

Xander nodded. "It makes sense in a sickening kind of way. Anything else?"

"Theories, but nothing solid."

Xander nodded again and dug heartily in his eggs with his fork.

Riley watched him eat for a moment, then blurted out. "It really doesn't upset you?"

"What?"

Riley cursed softly as he felt himself blushing. "Exposing yourself like this?"

"Well, no, not really. I'm buff, I'm hot, people will look anyway. I might as well make some money out of it."

"But, the men look at you and they'll be thinking ..."

"Naughty thoughts? Tell me: do you think Xena is hot?"

Riley frowned. "Yeah ..."

"Well, plenty of guys do. Do you think that Xena, being all about Gabrielle, should feel freaked out about guys wanting her, or just accept it as a fact of life given that she's hot?"

"Are you actually comparing yourself to Xena?"

"Work with me, Cornboy."

"Well, yeah, but Xena likes guys too. It's not like you ever took it up the ass."

Xander went crimson. "Um ..."

Riley dropped his fork into the plate. "Okay, now you're just messing with me. I am not buying this for one second. Not after your sex olympics with Anya."

"Dude. Don't they have strap-ons in Iowa?"

Riley put down his plate. "I'm not hungry anymore."

Xander smiled evilly. "Your prostate is your friend."

"I hate you. Go away."

"You're missing out on so much fun!"

He put his fingers in his ears. "La la la. I'm not hearing you!"

Riley and Xander exchanged smiles and then started eating again.

* * * * *

The night was pleasant, warm but with a little breeze blowing from the river Charles.

The California boy in Xander had been very glad to find out that Boston had such beautiful summers. Since his work outfit consisted of a jockstrap and sneakers, he was appreciative of the relative heat.

He'd been in town for two weeks so far, and although yet another body had been found, no real progress had been made. His job at the Blue Bacchus turned out to be more fun than expected. Aside from the generous amounts of money he made dancing, he was having fun. The constant stream of inappropriate offers he'd received was also a definite ego boost. There was a perverse little thrill about the idea that he could ask any of these guys to get on their knees for him and they would and they'd love it.

His shift tonight was finally over and he wanted nothing more than a shower and sleep. His bike was just a short stroll away, parked in a cul-de-sac behind the club.

He had just reached it when the sound of someone running made him turn around. A young man came racing out and the two of them could only stare at each other in shock.

"Percy?"

"Xander?"

Percy stared at the dead end in panic, then turned to look at Xander. "Oh, god. We have to go. He'll kill us."

Xander turned towards the alley's exit, where a tall figure was now standing. The man was well over six feet tall and built like a professional wrestler, and his outfit was straight out of The Matrix, an undefinably threatening mix of black vinyl, black leather and metal.

Percy tried rushing past him and got clotheslined. Xander watched him get thrown into a wall and crumple to the ground, seemingly unconscious.

The newcomer spared Xander but the briefest of glances. "Get lost."


She walked up to the incubus's corpse and flipped it with her foot. "He was much older than you. Stronger and faster too. Yet you killed him easily. Why?"

Xander sheathed the blade. "I was prepared and he wasn't."

She looked away from the corpse to stare at him and her voice was cutting. "-Wrong-. You won't always be prepared either. The reason the demon died is because he mistakenly thought he could handle you. If he'd run for safety, he'd still be alive. Sun Tzu said 'A military operation involves deception. Even though you are competent, appear to be incompetent. Though effective, appear to be ineffective.' You don't look tough, Xander. In fact, you wouldn't scare a fucking puppy. Your opponents will often underestimate you because of that. Learn to use it."

He smiled. "I'll remember."


Xander looked at Percy, looked at the man, looked at the alley's exit, and took off at full speed. He was just about to pass the man when he used a conveniently placed wooden crate to jump upwards, pivoting in mid-air to hit the guy with a spinning roundhouse kick full in the jaw.

The man went flying into the opposite wall but somehow stayed on his feet instead of going down as Xander expected. That kick would have taken down a regular human, but whoever the man was, he merely rubbed his jaw and straightened. "You really should have run off when you could, мудило ((dumbass)). Uncle Illya is gonna make you wish you had. "

Xander narrowed his eyes and sneered. "Kурите мою трубку ((Suck my dick.))."

The man's eyes widened for a second, then he laughed coldly. "So the little American blue boy speaks Russian, eh? It won't save you."

Xander dropped into a kickboxing stance and waited him out. The man moved into a fighting stance as well, and moved, launching a punch. Xander blocked the first blow and the shock traveled up his arms all the way to his shoulders. The man was hitting as hard as a vampire. Xander stepped back to give himself room and evaded the blows. When he saw an opening, he took it, and punched the guy's nose as hard as he could.

Illya's head rocked violently backwards and he stumbled back. He sneezed a couple of time, blood coming out of his nose. Xander used the opening to snap a kick in his jaw and punch him in the face. Illya blocked the second punch, grabbing Xander's arm and throwing him into a pile of crates.

Xander took a second to recover his breath, grabbing a broken piece of wood as an improvised stake. The second Illya was close enough, Xander stabbed his foot, then struck at the heart. His attacker dodged the second blow by back-pedaling, then pulled out a long army knife from the small of his back, and the reflected street light glinted menacingly along the blade's edge.

Xander rolled back to his feet and shifted his grip on the piece of wood, holding it in front of him like a club.

Illya attacked, the blade moving impossibly fast with a whistling sound, Xander deflecting as best as he could, until a feint caught him and the blade sliced the back of his hand, making him drop the improvised weapon. Illya thrust the blade and Xander ducked to the side, grabbed the extended arm, pressed his knee to his opponent's chest and pulled, right until he heard a sickening pop.

Illya went deathly-pale, but still managed to rabbit-punch him in the ribs, making him let go, then stepped back, nursing his dislocated shoulder. Xander used the break to try to regain his breath. Xander rapidly snatched the dropped knife off the floor and the two fighters started circling each other, breathing heavily.

They moved at the same moment, Xander slashing and missing twice. Illya moved with inhuman speed, spinning to punch Xander in the face, sending him flying back.

Illya moved to press his advantage, but Xander reacted first, throwing the blade underhand straight into the man's eye. The Russian made a few gurgling sounds and toppled to the ground, dead.

Xander watched him warily for a few more seconds to be sure the guy was indeed dead, then started frisking him rapidly for anything useful. Xander found a wallet, a pack of cigarettes, a box of matches from the Blue Bacchus and a picture of Percy. He pocketed everything, then went to check on Percy.

It seemed his investigation was finally making some progress.

* * * * *

Alexeï was surprised by the knock. He'd specifically given orders not to be disturbed unless it was an emergency. He gave the man in front of him a polite nod.

"If you'll excuse me for just a moment."

The lawyer nodded back. "But of course."

Alexeï walked to the door and opened it to find Dimitri behind it, wearing a grim face.

"Well?"

"It's Illya."

"Is he back? Is the job done?"

Dimitri looked at the ground. "He's dead, Alexeï."

This could not have happened at a worst moment. Alexeï made his tone curt to express his displeasure. "Details."

"I found him in the alley behind the club, his knife through his eye. My best guess is one other fighter. No trace of the boy."

"Dispose of all the evidence. We can't risk the police snooping around."

"Very well."

"I'll talk to you later."

Alexeï shut the door and turned around to find his visitor watching him with interest.

"It seems you're having ... difficulties."

"It's nothing we can't handle, Mr. Wilson."

"Nevertheless, we were concerned about such an eventuality. We, at Wolfram & Hart, don't like risks. We will have someone here to assist you in the field in the morning."

Alexeï hid his annoyance as best as he could, trying to persuade the man to back off. "I assure you no assistance is needed."

"The senior partners disagree. Would you rather discuss it with them?"

Alexeï grit his teeth. "No. That won't be necessary."

The lawyer got up and gave Alexeï an icy smile. "Excellent. Then I do believe we're done. It's always a pleasure talking to you, Alexeï. "

* * * * *

Corn stretched as far as the eye could see, swaying gently in the breeze like a golden ocean in the sunlight. Riley smiled, then turned around and he wasn't in at Uncle Joseph's farm anymore: he was in the barracks showers from boot camp.

The place was empty except for Xander, dressed in the overalls he'd worn before going to work. He was standing beneath a showerhead, water pouring over him, staring at Riley.

~Xander? You shouldn't be here.~

Xander smiled as he started running his hands over his chest. ~Of course, I should. I'm the comfortador.~

~I don't understand.~

Xander was naked now, jerking off in slow lazy strokes, the way Riley liked, and then smiled.

~You don't need to understand, just enjoy.~

~Xander ...~

~You know what you want.~

~Yes.~

Xander wasn't touching himself anymore. He now had his back to Riley, his legs spread apart and his hands on the wall, the water running down the muscles of his back and the curve of his ass.

Riley reached for Xander's slick, wet skin ...

... and woke up.

He panted as he shook off the last remnants of the dream. He was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his boxers were sticky. He shivered, the last image of the dream still vivid in his brain.

Then he got up, changed his underwear, using the soiled boxers to clean himself up, then lay down again and stared at the ceiling, trying not to think about it.

He was just about to get back to sleep when he heard the door open. He entered the living room to see Xander and some guy come in.

Xander looked like he'd just gone three rounds with Mike Tyson. His right eye was practically shut closed, his left side was black and blue, he was covered in scratches and cuts, including a few gashes on his chest and nasty-looking one on the back of his hand.

Riley rushed to check on him. "What the fuck happened to you?!"

Xander groaned. "I got into a bit of a fight. Get me the first aid kit, will you? It has Willow's special stuff."

Riley went to fetch it in the bathroom, then had Xander sit down on a chair while he dressed Xander's wounds. He glanced rapidly at the guy who'd come in with Xander, and Riley noticed he looked shaken as well.

"Either of you, feel free to clue me in anytime."

Xander hissed as Riley disinfected his hand. "Percy went to Sunnydale High. I ran into him running from what looked like our killer. Percy?"

Percy shook himself out of his daze to look at Xander. "Is Buffy here?"

"She's in Italy right now. But we seem to be doing fine without her, so yay us!"

Percy seemed to hesitate. "How ... how did you take down Illya? The only person I met who could hit as hard as him was Willow."

Riley looked at Xander in confusion. "Willow?"

Xander waved his hand. "VampWillow from an alternate timeline. I'll tell you some other time." Xander focused on Percy. "You knew him? I had no idea you liked guys."

Percy frowned for a second, then shook his head. "No, no, Illya isn't that killer. Nikolaï is. Illya was just out to kill me."

"Why would would he want to kill you? And who are these guys?"

"They're part of Alexeï's unit. It's a long story. My mother's real name is Elena Jyudenko. She was a KGB agent who defected to the west. I was only a year old then. Anyway, Alexeï is my cousin. He grew up in Russia and joined the army. He and his unit were part of some kind of supersoldier program cooked up by some of the generals who missed the cold war. He went freelance a while back and soon after that moved to America. Over a year ago, he started killing off all his relatives. No one knew why, he just did. Only two of us escaped: me and my cousin Arkady. Arkady was a computer prodigy who managed to fake his death and create a new identity for himself when he found out what Alexeï was doing. He found me before Alexeï could, explained to me everything that had been going on and we tried finding out what had happened and why."

"What did you find out?"

"Vague information. Arkady discovered that Alexeï now operated out of Boston, and was involved in some sort of secret project with some law firm in New York called Wolfram & Hart ..."

"Oh, fuck," said Xander closing his eyes.

"You know them?" asked Riley.

"Yeah. They're very bad news. Go on, Percy."

"Whatever he is doing here, It's bad. He's got three goons and the four of them are the only survivors of the program. They're incredibly strong. Vampire strong. You met Illya tonight."

"Yeah, I saw. What else?"

"Arkady called me a week ago, saying he'd discovered Alexeï was behind the killings to get material for his experiments. He said he had a plan to sneak into Alexeï's place and hack into his mainframe. I told him it was too dangerous, but he wouldn't listen. I found him dead yesterday in his apartment. Alexeï must have had someone watching him because I've been followed ever since. If you hadn't been there tonight ..."

After a few seconds of silence, Xander spoke up. "Percy, why don't you take the couch? Riley and I can share the bed."

Percy thanked Xander, who smiled then got up. "Riley?"

Riley looked up at him. "Yes?"

"Do you see a pot with white goo in the kit?"

Riley pulled it out. "This?"

"Yeah. Bring it in the bedroom. It's Willow's healing ointment. I'll need you to rub some on me."

Riley watched a bare-chested Xander make his way towards what was temporarily their bedroom and suddenly realized that Percy had caught him looking.

He blushed slightly, looking down, and packed up the first aid kit without a word.

* * * * *

Xander looked around the alley cautiously.

Late afternoon sunlight made it seem different somehow, but it was still exactly the same. He picked his way around carefully, searching for even the vaguest hint of what had happened the previous night. He didn't know for sure what they were dealing with, but something in his bones and the instincts honed by over two decades of living on a Hellmouth told him it was bad.

He closed his right eye and the world became glassy-green. He could see ghostly-white spots where blood had been the previous night, but nothing more. However it was they'd cleaned the crime scene, it hadn't required even a whiff of magic.

As glad as Xander was not to be wanted for murder, this cold-blooded efficiency creeped him out, big time.

Riley turned to look at him. "What are you doing?"

Xander smiled and lied through his teeth. "Just checking to see if the alley is prettier if looked at from a glass eye. And for the record, no. It's still ugly. Did you find anything?"

Riley shook his head. "Are you sure we're in the right place?"

"Definitely." Xander pointed a spot on the floor. "This is where I left the corpse."

Riley took that pronouncement with obvious unease. "I ... I don't even see any blood."

Xander nodded. "Well, I stabbed him in the eye, so there shouldn't be a lot of it, but there should be some. This is freaky. This clean-up was way too smooth."

"Did you find something?"

"Nope. Nothing. Those Russians are creepy."

"So I see. What will we do next?"

Xander shrugged, turned around and started walking back to the car. "Hopefully, Vanilla and Cinnamon had more luck."

Riley's voice was somber. "Did I happen to mention that I really really hate those codenames, and especially mine?"

"Only about a million times," said Xander with a smirk.

"I mean, at least Percy got Vanilla. We could switch! Any chance you'll consider changing it?"

"Not on your life!" Xander struck a dramatic pose, standing very straight with one hand on his hip, the other pointing onward. "Quickly, Strawberry! To the DoughnutMobile!"

"I will make you pay dearly for this."

* * * * *

Alexeï took his eyes off the computer screen when he heard the knock.

"Come in!"

The door opened silently, and Dimitri glided in with a loaded tray. "Your dinner."

Alexeï nodded. "I'm not really hungry. Just put it on the desk."

"With all due respect, sir, if you keep skipping meals, you're going to get weak and possibly ill and we can't exactly afford that happening right now."

The smell of the club sandwich and the fries was enough to revive his appetite, so Alexeï gave in and started eating. "Tell me Dimitri: how are things coming along at the beta site?"

"Smoothly, sir. I just don't understand why we're --"

"Because," said Alexeï cutting in, "one can never have enough back-up plans. It pays to be careful, especially since we're risking more than our lives here."

Dimitri appeared troubled. "Has Wolfram & Hart been interfering with our plans again?"

"They hardly need to. Not with him here."

Dimitri nodded. "What I don't get, though, is why you want to have him undergo the process too?"

"He's as close to us as it gets, and with the right drugs, we can bring him even closer. Thus, he makes the perfect guinea pig. The only major difference with us is that we weren't stripped of our free will through technology, an oversight on the part of our superiors for which I will forever be grateful."

"You mean Wolfram & Hart really has him operating on a remote?"

Alexeï munched thoughtfully on a fry. "It's not an actual remote, but essentially, yes. It's the reason he's so obedient when I speak to him despite wanting us all dead."

Dimitri looked at him in surprise. "Why would Wolfram & Hart let you control him?"

"Because they can override that control. And mostly, because he's not so much a threat to me as he is a somewhat unsubtle reminder of what might happen should I fail them. Though more the fool them for playing such a sad trick on me."

"What do you mean?"

"My pact with Wolfram & Hart includes a clause about giving them my first successful experiment. With Malik Jones dead, they expect to get one of us out of the deal. Instead, they'll be getting their own toy back ... and to understand what was done to him, they will need to tear him apart."

Alexeï shared a malicious smile with Dimitri and ate another fry.

* * * * *

Riley undressed, grabbed his dirty clothes and walked into the bathroom only to find himself facing a naked Xander. They froze for a moment and then Xander started laughing.

"This will teach me to lock the door. Did you need to grab something?"

Riley dropped his dirty clothes in the hamper, only to regret it, being left empty-handed in only his boxers. "I just wanted to shave and shower."

"It's cool. I shaved already so you can do it while I shower."

Xander grinned and climbed into the shower, shutting the curtain behind him and starting the water. Steam started filling the bathroom. Riley closed the door and moved in front of the sink, turning the faucet on. There was a squeak from the shower and then Xander laughing again.

"All good. Just warn me when you're done. By the way, how did you like that movie last night? I mean, Chinese movies are weird, and you can practically see the wires, but still, I think ..."

Riley smiled at himself in the mirror, tuning out Xander's happy chatter and started shaving. There was a feeling of domesticity to sharing a bathroom, an intimacy, which he'd missed. The blade passed along his skin, removing his stubble efficiently, a strangely pleasant sensation.

By the time he was done, he rubbed the palms of his hands along his face. He closed the faucet and Xander made a different squeal from the first one.

"You're just trying to get me out, aren't you? Well, I was here first, early birds and worms and everything and ... CRAP!"

Riley looked at the curtain and at the vague shape of Xander's body behind it. "Everything all right?"

"Soap in my eyes. Hop in. I'm almost done anyway. I just need to rinse."

Riley took off his boxers, dropped them in the hamper and climbed into the shower. He chuckled when he saw that Xander had used the shampoo to style his hair into two little horns.

Xander turned in his direction with a grin. His eyes were squinted shut from soap. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Commando Boy. Just give me a second to get the soap off and you can have the place."

Riley leaned against the back of the shower, cool tiles against his back, and watched Xander.

The recent wounds were almost gone thanks to Willow's magic ointment, but Xander was nevertheless covered in scars. Strangely, it suited him. Xander was also remarkably tan, and against the bronze of his back, his ass seemed almost blindingly white. Riley had to admit Xander was impressively fit for a civilian, wide-shouldered and broad, and Riley didn't doubt for one second the success he must have as a gogo boy.

Xander moved beneath the spray, turning around, placing his face beneath it, then lifting his arms to run his fingers through his hair as the water washed the soap suds and the last of the grime away. Riley was entranced by the play of muscles on Xander's chest, the tiny dark nipples, the way his pecs and abs shifted with every move of his arms.

Riley's eyes traveled lower still, along the trail of hair to a large cut penis resting in a bush of black curls. Riley experienced a strange feeling of embarrassment, his eyes moving up again, and as he stared at Xander's chest, dream-images superimposed to what he was seeing, smooth, warm, wet skin, his fingers ached to touch.

Before he even knew what he was doing, he was tracing the curve of one of Xander's abs with his index finger. He froze, looking up to meet a soft chocolate eye and a hard green one. He pulled his hand away but Xander grabbed it before he could completely pull it away.

Xander's hand was strong, callused beyond the telling and warm, and the feeling of another man's hand on his and how much he liked it seemed somehow more scandalous than anything else.

Xander gave him a soft smile, pulling the hand back to his chest. Riley let him, tracing Xander's chest with it once again, flicking his thumb over Xander's nipple and making him hiss in pleasure.

Xander took a step forward and suddenly they were pressed flush against each other, chest to chest, Xander's wet skin against Riley's, their erections rubbing against each other in the most distracting way and Riley's hand was trapped between them.

Xander gave Riley a long unreadable look, as they breathed rapidly, warm exhalations against each other's skin. Xander's hand wrapping around their erections and starting to rub them made Riley shudder. Xander's other hand had somehow moved to the nape of Riley's neck and the back of his head. Distracting.

Xander fluttered long eyelashes and tilted his head, then kissed Riley. Xander kissed the way he fought, ferocious and passionate and heedless of his own safety, sucking on Riley's tongue and nibbling on his lower lip like a starving man. Riley wanted the kiss to never end.

He moved his hands to Xander's ass, running his fingers over it before grabbing it and humping into Xander's hand, grinding their cocks together. Xander broke the kiss and started mouthing Riley's neck, licking and sucking until Riley realized he'd started making needy whimpers.

It had been too long for it not to be over too fast. Riley felt his balls tighten, his entire body tensing and shaking, hot semen splashing their chests and dribbling down their cocks. Xander kept writhing his hips for a minute longer and came too, letting out a long desperate gasp, like a drowning man finally reaching the surface of the ocean.

They stood like that for a minute, not moving, not saying a word, just holding each other as if there was nothing else in the world but the two of them.

* * * * *

"Well?"

"We sent in our field operative. The Russians will cooperate."

"Excellent. The senior partners were most displeased with the loss of Malik Jones."

"This will not happen again."

"Are you willing to stake your career on this?"

"Yes. There's a new player in the game. If the Russians fail us, this one won't."

"I hope you're right, Wilson, for your sake."

* * * * *

Xander tugged the hood of his jacket lower to shield himself from the pouring rain, and closed his right eye.

The world turned green and sharp, like a blurred image coming crisply into focus.

All he'd been able to see of the building through the rain had been a shapeless ominous black mass. Through the magic of the eye, he could now see every detail. Xander wasn't sure whether it was an improvement.

The building was smack in the middle of Roxbury, a ghastly leftover from the 1920s, built in weird flowing art deco shapes, with gargoyles everywhere, adding to the overall effect of utter creepiness. Back in the day, it may have been elegant and fashionable, but eighty years later, the place seemed decrepit, with chipped stonework and boarded-up windows. The chalk outline of a body a few yards from the front door added the final homey touch. Any second now, Xander expected a bunch of Cthulhu worshippers would start merrily dancing in circles around the place.

Xander was in fact almost tempted to say the place was too over-the-top to be the real thing, but thanks to his eye, he couldn't miss the pulsing lines of light disappearing into the building.

He had a really bad feeling about this.

He turned around and started walking away. A couple of blocks from there was an open diner. Xander walked in, smiled at the waitress asking for coffee, headed for the last booth and sat down in front of Riley.

"Well?"

Xander smirked. "Oh, it's the right place all right. The ley lines around that place are so screwed-up that for all I know, he could very well be building himself his own tiny hellmouth."

Riley stared down at his empty cup intensely, like he was trying to get a peak of the future from the black sludge left at the bottom. "I don't like it. We're going in completely blind."

"Ri, I don't like it any more than you do, but this address is all we have for now."

"No, it's not!"

"Yes, it is," said Xander annoyed. "You saw what was in Percy's cousin's 'if you're reading this, I'm dead' e-mail, same as I did. The genetics/magic stuff is miles ahead of anything we might understand, which is why I had Percy forward it to Willow. All we have to go on for now are those Russian names, which Cinnamon is looking into, and this address."

"I still don't like it."

"You don't have to come."

Riley gave him a look that couldn't possibly mean anything other than 'Bitch, please'. "So how do we do this?"

"One of the windows on ground level is badly boarded-up. It will be our entry point."

"Okay. Let's do this."

Xander smiled. "Go pay the check. I'll call Percy to keep him posted, then we can start."

* * * * *

Alexeï tried not to grit his teeth in frustration. He'd truly expected this latest attempt to be a success, and yet again, he was forced to face another failure. It seemed at times that Isis Jones had well and truly taken the secret of her Antheus effect to the grave.

He was about to retrieve the coins when Dimitri touched his elbow.

"Sir?"

"What?"

"Someone just triggered the motion sensors on the ground level."

The neighborhood being what it was, Alexeï had expected he might have to deal with the odd gangbanger or burglar paying a visit. Right now, he'd be glad for the stress relieving fun of beating an intruder to death.

He looked at Dimitri. "Secure the coins and wrap things up. I'll handle this personally. You," he added, pointing at the Wolfram & Hart envoy, "you're with me."

Whoever had just broken into Alexeï's home was in for a world of pain.

* * * * *

It hadn't been until Xander's phonecall that Percy had thought to check the dates he'd seen in the big file on Alexeï's experiments. Xander's files on the serial killings were neat and detailed, making it easy for him to see his hunch was correct.

The murders always happened on the night that immediately followed an experiment. Whatever Alexeï needed in those poor men's brains, he needed it fresh.

With Xander and Riley busy and that scary Cinnamon woman off somewhere, Percy didn't have anyone to call. So with the same kind of grim moronic courage with which he'd agreed to wield a flamethrower against the mayor on graduation day, he grabbed one of Xander's weapons, a short sword, and had run off to the rescue.

Back when he'd run into Illya, it had been purely an accident, but in hindsight, Percy suspected the Russian had been scouting the place. And he was hoping this hunch was correct too, because someone's life was in the balance.

He'd reached the Blue Bacchus without much trouble and had been standing across the street from the entrance for almost an hour when he saw Nikolaï come out of the club with a pretty red-headed twink following him like a puppy. Percy started shadowing them as best as he could. Fortunately for him, the twink's amorous demonstrations made it hard for Nikolaï to pay attention to anything else.

When the two walked off into an alley, Percy followed the couple as quickly as he could.

* * * * *

Xander saw the stairs and gestured at Riley to check up the next floor. The man nodded and went off soundlessly to do just that.

Xander opened another door to find a tall raven-haired man waiting for him with a smirk.

"Hi, I'm ... looking for the bathroom? Big place."

The man raised an eyebrow.

"Just kidding. I'm actually a census agent: how many people in this household?"

The man's other eyebrow went up.

"I know. I'm not very smooth with the lying. But I tried, right?"

The man's smirk widened. "You're amusing. It has to count for something. I may not kill you too painfully after all."

"Um, thanks?"

The man grinned. "You're very welcome."

Xander didn't give him time to react and just attacked. He launched an uppercut aimed at the nose, but his opponent parried easily. Xander didn't even think about it and kept moving, unleashing a flurry of blows on the guy, keeping the initiative for as long as he could given how little room there was to maneuver. Punch, kick, elbow, knee, kick, elbow again. The attacks rained down on the man, yet none of them ever hit their mark. His opponent was always just the slightest bit faster, blocking everything.

Then just as he was about to launch another combination, the man finally attacked with one simple punch to the chest, sending Xander flying back. It was like being hit by a freight train. No regular human was that strong. Xander rolled slowly to his feet and watched the man carefully.

"I didn't expect my last cousin would be good enough to take down Illya. Fratboy life doesn't breed warriors. That was you, wasn't it? Who are you?"

Xander dropped into a tiger-crane stance. "My codename is Chocolate Doughnut." The man laughed. "No, really."

"Well, Mr. Chocolate Doughnut, you can call me Alexeï. I do hope you can do better than what you've shown so far. Otherwise, you're not going to last long, and it would be a shame: you're the most entertainment I've had in quite a while."

"Man, you desperately need cable."

Alexeï simply grinned, gesturing at Xander to attack.

Xander took a deep breath and started fighting again, using every dirty trick his teacher had taught him, his fingers slicing through the hair and never scoring more than some light scratches on his foe.

He was just about to launch another slice at the throat when Alexeï simply stepped aside, letting the attack pass him by harmlessly, then used a move Xander had never even heard of which sent him slamming into a wall again.

As he shook his head to recover from the blow, Xander had to admit things didn't look good.

* * * * *

Riley climbed the stairs rapidly. He wanted to check the place quickly and get back downstairs. There was something off about all this and he didn't like the idea of separating to search the place.

He heard a loud bang downstairs and was about to turn back when he noticed he wasn't alone in the room.

He reached for his gun but the other man was faster, moving in with inhuman speed to backhand Riley violently, sending him sprawling.

When he looked up, his attacker finally moved into the light revealing his face. Riley felt all his blood draining away from his face.

Graham's expression was perfectly bland.

"Hello, Riley."

Continued here.