Backfire - Spander Files

any could see.
Willow stepped up to Buffy. “Don’t let them kill each other!”
Buffy shrugged. “What am I supposed to do? Call a time out and send them to their
corners?”
Xander was sitting in a chair at the table watching pieces of the fight through the
bodies blocking the door. He had faith that Spike wouldn’t kill Angel. But he could
only hope that Angel wouldn’t kill Spike. It bothered him that Buffy wasn’t doing
anything, but the situation was confusing, and he wasn’t sure he would know what
to do either if he were in her shoes. So he again felt powerless. The action unfolded
around him like he was moving in slow motion. The red mark on the back of his
hand where he had been scratching a phantom itch was growing. He was shaking.
Oz stood beside him and rested a small hand on his left shoulder. Xander leaned
into it and Oz’s fingers slipped and touched his neck, brushing the Angel-scar.
Xander’s breath hitched, and he reached up and grasped Oz’s hand, pressing it
harder into the mark. The heavy touch soothed the itch slightly. But not for long.
Xander continued to shake.
The commotion in the courtyard stopped, and Xander was at the door quickly,
fearing he would see only one vampire. Angelus’s face was marred by three long
scratches down his right cheek. But he was still standing. Spike was not. The
younger vampire was on his side, next to the ivy wall, one leg folded at a wrong
angle. Xander didn’t know knees bent that way.
Spike split his jeans open along the twisted leg to inspect the wound. All the
humans grimaced and groaned when they saw the bone protruding from the
vampire’s knee.
“Bugger,” Spike complained softly, then laid down all the way on the Spanish tile
and worked on breathing through his pain.
“Well, that was exhilarating.” Angelus wiped away the blood on his cheek with the
palm of his hand. He took a step forward and Xander felt vindicated that the step
caused him to stumble. The vampire took a moment to regain his footing, but didn’t