Articulation 5/15

[allyndra]

This is the getting to know each other chapter. Lots of dialogue, but I like it.

Xander looked around the theater with a smile. He had a big tub of popcorn, a comfy seat, and a cute guy with big green eyes. He was all set to watch an hour and a half of mindless explosions. What could be better than this? He snuck a glance over at the aforementioned cute guy and took Harry's focus on the movie trailers as an opportunity to study his face. The eyes were the first thing you noticed about him. The color was unusual, but Xander was pretty sure that Harry's contacts weren't tinted. The rest of his face was interesting, too. Xander especially liked the way his wide jaw sloped down to a narrow chin. It made him look a tiny bit like a very determined kitten.

 

The younger man snorted at a particularly bad special effect and reached out a long-fingered hand to snag some popcorn. Xander considered letting their fingers brush in the bucket; it was a low-risk contact, and it often led to hand holding and smoochies. Xander was just about to go for it, when he realized he was planning a physical relationship with a man he'd know less than a week. Hard on the heels of that thought came a series of graphic memories: Cordelia, flushed with anger and passion, insulting him even as she leaned in for a kiss; hot hands on his back as Faith grabbed him, driven by casual lust; Anya slithering out of her dress in the basement, a perfunctory invitation on her lips; Spike burrowing into his embrace, desperate to solace his new, guilty soul.

 

'I have never, ever dated someone I was friends with first.' The realization rocked him. He'd always gotten physical first and let the emotional bonds develop later. Or not at all, as the case may be. Suddenly Xander was afraid of this dating pattern. Sure, he'd lucked out a few times, but this couldn't be healthy, could it? Maybe he should stage his own personal intervention.

 

Xander watched Harry grab another handful of popcorn and waited until the Englishman had drawn his hand back before fetching some for himself. Physical could wait for once. Harry seemed like he was worth it.

 

***

***

 

"You don't understand. Han Solo *had* to shoot first."

 

"Why? I don't see what's so weak about defending instead of attacking."

 

"It's not about being weak or strong. It's about sense. Greedo was too much

of a threat to leave alive. And I don't care what the Special Edition shows,

there is no way Greedo could miss at that range." Xander took a bite of his

pizza for emphasis.

 

"Doesn't...doesn't that make him a murderer?" Harry's voice was soft. In his mind he was seeing McNabb before him, wand raised, mouth opening. Harry's blade thrusting through the huge Death Eater before he had a chance to voice any spell. He'd killed others in the war, but that was the one that woke him up nights.

 

"He's not a murderer. He's a survivor. Sometimes shooting first is

self-defense."

 

***

***

 

"Tell me a story."

 

"What are you, five?"

 

"No one told me stories when I was five. Come on, what'll it harm? Tell me a story."

 

"Okay, okay. Let me think a minute...Alright, I've got one. Once upon a time there was an evil little troll man in charge of a high school. No, not that kind of troll. One day he decided that an attractive and heroic group of students were not being tortured enough. To correct this, he decreed that they must take part in the talent show."

 

Harry listened as Xander spun the tale of the talent show, ending it with a hilarious reenactment of the dramatic scene he and the girls had performed. His impression of their wooden delivery and Willow's terrified flight almost made Harry choke on his Malteasers. When he was no longer in danger of asphyxiation, Harry turned to his friend.

 

"Have you noticed that all of your stories involve Willow and Buffy?"

 

"Yeah, so?" Xander sounded a bit defensive. "All of your stories involve Ron and Hermione. What's the big?"

 

"Nothing, I just...Do you feel odd being separated from them?"

 

"I do." Xander's voice was low as he replied. "I feel like - a little lost. I've thought of myself almost in plural for years. '*We* have to do this.' 'What are *we* doing on Saturday?' And now we're scattered and there's just me."

 

"Good." At Xander's raised eyebrow, Harry elaborated. "It's just nice to know I'm not the only strange, co-dependent man in the room."

 

"Hey, as long as we stick together, we resist the urge to get stalker-y on someone else. And you know what the say, Harry. People who need people are the luckiest people of all." Xander had to duck fast as Harry launched a pillow at him.

 

***

***

 

"What do you want for dinner, Xander?"

 

"I don't know. Did you have anywhere in mind?"

 

"Actually, I thought maybe we could eat here tonight."

 

"Okay. There aren't very many places that deliver, though."

 

"No, you are missing the concept. I thought we could make dinner. Here, follow me. This is a kitchen. Have you seen one before? They are commonly used as food preparation units."

 

"Wait, wait. Are you saying you know how to cook? How could you have kept this from me!?"

 

"You accepted that I can do magic without even blinking; why are you so shocked that I can cook?"

 

"Magic is just magic. But cooking is taking groceries and turning them into *food*! Cooking is art."

 

"Well, let's go round to the grocer's and pick up some ingredients. I'll give you your first lesson in creating art."

 

***

***

 

"I'm not talking to you."

 

"Oh, for Merlin's sake! It was a joke."

 

"No. I know jokes. They often start with 'Knock knock' and end with 'Orange

you glad I didn't say banana?' They don't start with me eating a candy and

end with me turning into a canary."

 

"It was funny."

 

"No it was wasn't."

 

"Well, *I* found it bloody hilarious."

 

"You would."

 

"What's that supposed to mean? You're not on about Jim Carrey again, are

you? I don't care how many faces he can pull, that man isn't funny."

 

"Hey! I based my brilliant comedic timing on Jim Carrey. He's a genius."

 

"He's not a genius...and anyway, you're much funnier than he is."

 

"Oh." pause "Maybe I'm talking to you again. Hey, Harry? Are there any

wizard stand-up comedians?"

 

"I have no idea. I'll bet Fred and George would know, though."

 

"Cool. While you're asking them about it, pick up some more Canary Creams. I

bet Giles would look great as a bird."

 

***

***

 

"Come on! I promise I won't let you fall."

 

"How can you promise that? What if *you* fall? How will you save me then,

hot shot? What if the spell on the broomstick fails? What if the polarity of

the earth reverses and spells that make things go up suddenly make them go

down instead? Did you think of that?"

 

"No, I didn't think of that, because it's utter rubbish. Now get on the

broom."

 

"Okay. I'm on. My eye is closed and I'm going to faint, but I'm on."

 

"Open your eye, Xander."

 

"No."

 

"Please."

 

"No."

 

"Don't you trust me?"

 

"I - yes. Oh god, oh god, oh - wow! This is awesome."

 

"Yeah, it really is."

 

"We 're like birds up here. It's like we're..."

 

"Free."

 

***

***

 

Harry sat at the table and waited for Xander to arrive for their standing Wednesday night dinner date. Harry snorted and thought, 'Date.' They'd been seeing each other at least twice a week for the last month, but so far their relationship had been completely platonic. At first, Harry had been relieved. It was oddly soothing to spend time with someone who had no expectations about him, and who wanted nothing from him. Now, though, the situation had changed. Harry wanted something from Xander.

 

The raven haired man ran a finger absently around the rim of his cup and pondered how to let Xander know he was attracted to him. He wasn't good at asking people out or confessing his feelings, but he might have to take such drastic measures. He was startled out of his thoughts when the subject of them dropped into the chair next to him and ran his hand tiredly over his face.

 

"You want a job as a British-American translator?" the American asked with a sigh. "I spent half the morning trying to explain to my crew what I meant by 'crown molding.' It was horrible."

 

Harry made sympathetic noises, then steeled himself to broach the subject of a *real* date. "About this weekend - "

 

"Ooooh." Xander perked up and lifted his head. "I have the best news! Giles synched up everyone's schedules so they can all be in town at once. My girls are coming, and we're gonna have a Scooby reunion on Saturday." The tired man was gone, replaced by the bouncing teenager he must have been only a few years ago.

 

"That's...great. I'm happy for you." Harry tried to hide his disappointment. Not only did he not manage to ask Xander out, he was being blown off for Saturday as well. Damn it!

 

Xander noticed the unhappy tone of Harry's voice and tried to reassure him. He put a large, calloused hand on his shoulder and said, "You don't have to come if you don't want to, Harry. I thought you'd like to meet everyone, but I'll understand if you'd rather not."

 

Harry thought his grin might break right off his face. Xander wanted to bring him to the Scooby reunion, to include Harry with the most important people in his life! Without even thinking about it, he closed the space between them and kissed the other man firmly on the mouth. The hand on his shoulder moved up, and Xander was cradling the back of his head and kissing him back. After a long, breathless moment, they separated, faces still close together.

 

"Does this mean you do want to go?"