Title: Four Days
Author: meagan <nutmeg@serv.net>
Summary: Xander went on a journey over the summer, but it's not what you expected. Set a few months after graduation.
Distribution: Please ask.
Rating: PG/PG13ish
Disclaimer: Of *course* they belong to someone else. If they were mine, things would be different. Specifically, they belong to Mutant Enemy, Fox, WB (even though they *really* don't deserve these guys after what they did to us in May), and anyone else I forgot.
Spoilers: _Angel_ spinoff, S4 rumors, "Gingerbread," "The Zeppo."
Feedback: Yes, please. Is this thing a complete bore? Was the time spent writing this wasted?
Notes: Yay, I wrote something new! It's been a while, and that has been bothering me. I'm working with the idea that Cordelia moved to Los Angeles immediately after graduation even though I really don't think that's what is going to happen (but that's what I needed to happen for this story to work the way I wanted it to). Also, this actually came out of a completely different idea about what Xander's non-road trip "journey" could be. That one has him going through boot camp but leaving right after that training, but this idea seemed easier to work with at the

moment (mainly because I couldn't figure out how to easily and quickly get him out of service since it seems that it would take either a lot of red tape and time or a really bad injury, and that just wouldn't work for my purposes). And I'm not thrilled about working with Doyle without knowing what he's going to be like, but it was him or Whistler (I'm a big Max Perlich fan), and Doyle won the coin toss. This is my way of working out a C/X reunion that results in him still in Sunnydale and her still in Los Angeles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cordelia rolled her eyes. For the eight hundredth time, she was being sent on a boring errand to a part of town she hated. At least it was during daylight. Then again, that was *why* she was being sent. If it had been after sundown, she could have convinced Angel to do it himself.

But this was something that had to be done before sunset, so here she was, stuck in an area of town notorious for cult recruitments. They always unnerved her. On the up side, the cults doing the recruitment were not of the supernatural nature. At least not as far as she knew. She was glad she had good posture. Those groups tended to prey on unsure people, and poor posture was a good indicator of that sort of thing. Just like muggers. She was almost always left alone. Even when she walked in high-crime areas. Angel had to give up on using her for bait in those areas because she seemed to repel attackers. As if that was a bad thing. Now she was just targeted by people and creatures who specifically wanted *her*.

And just as she had become invisible to those who otherwise would have attempted to capitalize on her insecurities in order to convince her that they were the only ones who would accept her as she was, they had become invisible to her. She no longer heard the sales pitches for new ways of life, and she no longer saw the beatific faces of kids who had embraced the orders given to them by the leaders of whatever group they new considered their "family."

Her own new family, of course, consisted of a vampire and a half-demon. It was strange to consider the dynamic, but Angel seemed like an uncle or much-older brother more than anything else. And Doyle was the same way. Sometimes they took the older brother thing a bit too far and smothered her until she wanted to scream. But they also listened patiently to all of her rants and tirades.

And as she considered their relationship, she found herself thinking about the friends she left behind. In Sunnydale. She had expected to feel sadness about the loss of friendship she had with Harmony and the rest of her former clique, but instead she found herself missing Buffy and Giles. And even Oz, Willow, and Xander.

Even Xander. Make that *especially* Xander. Even after everything he had put her through, she realized she had a space in her heart and mind that she kept reserved for him.

Her mind, stuck on memories of her ex-boyfriend, kept her from noticing the group of people her own age walking in the opposite direction along the sidewalk. One of them was also caught up in his own world and bumped soundly into her, knocking her purse to the ground. Quickly, he apologized, "Oh, I'm sorry, I --"

That voice. She knew that voice. She lifted her head to confirm her suspicions, and Xander's mouth snapped shut. His words died, and he turned away from her to rejoin the group. She watched his retreating back, memorizing the clothing he wore -- a white robe over white pants. A uniform, actually, belonging to one of the creepier cults in the area. They targeted forlorn kids, usually runaways in their early- to mid-teens, but recent high school graduates freshly separated from horrible home lives were also popular recruits. Her heart sank. She had been aware that his family was bad for him, but she had expected that his friends would have picked up the slack. And they probably would have, if they hadn't found other things to occupy their time, like boyfriends and college. All further thought was centered around how to get him back. To her. Or at least away from them.

~~~~

"Are you sure about this?" Angel hadn't yet agreed to her request, but he also hadn't refused. "Cordelia, think about this. I mean *really* think about this. If you want to do this because you feel guilty about what happened between the two of you in the past, it is not going to work. We'll get him out, and then you will break his heart all over again, and he'll end up right where he is now. If he's lucky. Those groups search out kids like him and suck them in."

She frowned. "How like him?"

"No self-esteem, feeling abandoned or neglected by their family, no friends -- just needing a place to belong. If we get him out and then you hurt him again, he's going to go running back to them, and you will never see him again."

"That's not what will happen." She turned on the pleading puppy dog eyes. "Please, Angel? For me?"

He sighed. Those eyes always got her exactly what she wanted. "Okay."

~~~~

She had briefly considered asking Angel or Doyle details on how they did it, but, in the end, she decided she was better off not knowing. All that mattered was that Xander was in Angel's living quarters (although Xander didn't know that), safely locked away from people set on dragging him back to the mind control group he had just been pulled from, in a room that looked like a prison cell. A very comfortable prison cell -- nice bed, full bathroom, even a separate sitting room with a television and vcr -- but still not identifiable as belonging to any particular person or group. Exactly what she needed.

She felt more than a little bit to blame for this. The reading that she had done about cults all said that one of the biggest reasons that kids get drawn into the groups is a lack of belonging. And that little speech she had made to him months earlier -- the one in which she informed him that he was the useless member of the group -- slapped her, just as she knew it had to have hit him when she delivered it. Then again, she had just stated the facts. His so-called friends were the ones who had pushed him to the edge of their group, setting him up to fall headlong into a cult.

And now he slept in the other room. Angel had told her that Xander had been drugged -- sedated -- to keep him submissive to the leaders of the group, and the last dose had apparently been strong enough to knock him out for an extended period of time. It had made the rescue mission much easier than expected. She had opted to watch over him for the first day, just to make sure that whatever chemicals were coursing through his system didn't cause him harm during the withdrawal process. Among other reasons.

"Where am I? Who are you?" He was awake. Finally. She had been standing in the doorway framed by the light behind her, face back in the shadows. Slowly, she moved into the bedroom. "Cordelia? Is that really you? My head hurts."

She had a few choices. She could tell him the truth, make up some wild story more or less unrelated to reality, or weave truths and falsehoods into a plausible story. Or she could dance around the edges of the truth. "Yeah, it's me." True. "We've apparently been kidnapped." Slightly true. He was kidnapped. She was behind the kidnapping. "I heard them say something about Buffy and Angel." Again, kind of true. One of the arguments she had used to convince Angel was his possible reaction to the news that Buffy had fallen victim to the same group that had snagged Xander. So both names had been mentioned. "I guess they've been following us for a while. The theory seems to be that one of our superhero friends will come rescue us, and then whoever grabbed us can attack whoever shows up." Not true at all. Unless someone from the mysterious group showed up. In that case, she had her very own watchvampire to keep Xander away from his "rescuer."

He nodded. The expression on his face indicated that his head was still fuzzy from the last traces of drugs, but the story she gave him had been close enough to reality so many times that he didn't question it. The only real difference was the room. It was a heck of a lot nicer than any of the motel rooms he had stayed in while on the road. "So how long have we been here? How long until I can get back to my family?"

Those words forced her heart into her stomach. "Your family? You mean your parents back in Sunnydale?" To her horror, she found herself actually hoping that was who he meant. As bad as his family had been, the information she had found on the group that had recruited him was even scarier. Mind control was the least of their nefarious activities. Somehow, she doubted he was aware of the more objectionable aspects of the group. Like the part where the group recruited rich young kids and conned them into giving all of their money to the leaders. She knew that they couldn't have chosen Xander for his money, but she did realize what attracted them to him. He was one of those guys that you just wanted to take home and take care of. Feed him tomato soup with those little goldfish crackers. Or bake homemade bread. She actually caught herself standing to leave the room and whip up a batch of cookies when she remembered that she was pretending to be a captive just like him. Clearly (at least to her), he was being used as bait to attract rich young girls who wanted to take care of a cute guy. Hey, it was working as far as she was concerned.

He shook his head. "No. I mean the group. They have got to be worried about me. You would like them, Cor. They're nice. They don't care if you have money or a nice car. Material possessions mean nothing."

She had to work very, very hard at controlling her reactions. She knew this line was completely bogus. Money was the *only* thing the group cared about. But she knew that this was information that would not have been shared with him and that derision would only push him away. She did the only thing she could think of. "So did you know I'm working for Angel now? I'm pretty sure that's why I got snagged."

Bingo. "*What*? How could you work for *him*? After everything he put us through, you're *helping* him?"

Inwardly, Cordelia smiled. It was sneaky, but she knew just the right buttons to push with Xander. Even after whatever drugs and brainwashing he had gone through, he still remembered that he and Angel were not friends and that he was jealous of the vampire. It was a start. "Well, I couldn't stay in Sunnydale, so I moved here. Try my luck at the M.A.W. thing. Model, actress, whatever. Anyway, I ran into him here in L.A. one night. Things started going not well for me, so I tracked him down and, well, basically forced him to give me a job. As it turns out, I'm much better at working for him -- with him, really -- than just standing around looking pretty. And things have been going really well. Except for this kidnapping thing, but it's an occupational hazard that I've gotten used to. Kind of like how I got used to unemployment as an actress."

He sighed. "You know, I felt safe in the group. No one could get to me or hurt me." A short laugh. "Or so I thought. Look at us now."

"So tell me about this group of yours." She wanted to find out what they had done to him. How he had managed to get involved. But first she had to try to get his mind working correctly. It wasn't going to kick in immediately, but at least she could get him started on the path to full mental capacity. "Are you hungry? Whoever grabbed us didn't take my backpack for some reason. I have some turkey jerky and some of those canned protein drinks. Oh, and some mixed nuts. And some other stuff. I had just finished shopping for emergency food when they grabbed me." One thing gleaned from her readings on cults was that they tended to keep new recruits on low-protein diets, to keep their minds weak and malleable. She knew he had a good, strong mind, and it saddened her that it was one of the first casualties of the recruitment process. So she had made sure to stock her backpack with lots of protein-based snacks.

"Do you happen to have a phone in there?"

"Yep." She pulled it out. "But the battery is dead. Don't think I didn't already think of that." She had anticipated his request for a phone and deliberately drained her battery in case he tried to use it.

"Oh." He stared at the packets in her hand. "Could you spare some jerky and water?"

She handed over the requested items. "So how did you meet these friends of yours?"

"I was in San Francisco. My car died. I was broke. They offered a place to stay." He shrugged. "Nice people, so I stuck around. We went on a retreat that first weekend, and that was it. I was in. I didn't have to work for their acceptance and approval. They just gave it to me, no questions asked."

She sat on the edge of the bed next to him. "Xander, have you talked to anyone from home since you joined this group?" She knew the answer to this one already. No. That was another thing about the group. They discouraged -- make that banned -- contact with non-members.

"Nope. I haven't felt the need to. The group is all the friends and family I need." He frowned. "I'm not even supposed to be talking to anyone outside of the group. And definitely not someone from my past."

Now she frowned. "Okay. So you're not *supposed* to be talking to me. But do you *want* to?"

He closed his eyes, preparing for her rejection. "Yes."

Since his eyes were closed, he missed her ear-to-ear grin. "Good."

~~~~

"Willow? I need a favor." Quickly, Cordelia explained the situation.

The redhead was, of course, more than happy to agree to any request Cordelia made. And so, after the key details were discussed, the brunettes' "captor" -- one of Doyle's people -- roughly "dragged and threw" Cordelia (her brief stuntwoman training came in handy at times) back in the room she was sharing with Xander. "Come on, kid, we have someone for you to talk to."

Xander stared at Cordelia, her face puffy with unshed tears. Unbeknownst to him, she was silently thanking her acting coach for her lessons on crying on cue. "Please, Xander, cooperate with him?"

He nodded and followed the man out the door. Xander was turned over to yet another person and led into a small room with a phone.

~~~~

After making sure Xander had been delivered to the phone room to talk to Willow, Doyle returned to the "hostage" room. "So, Cordelia, how are things going?"

She sighed. "I don't know. He keeps talking about these people like they're the greatest thing since Twinkies. All I want is to know that he's safe. And there's something weird about this group."

He nodded. "Yeah, something *very* strange. Even for humans."

"Thanks for this, Doyle. I don't know what I'll do if it doesn't work."

Her gratitude brought tears to his eyes. Blinking them back, he said gruffly, "Well, don't get used to my help."

She smiled and hugged him. "Oh, come on, I have you wrapped around my little finger, and you know it."

Now he sighed. He knew when he had been beat. "Just don't tell Angel, okay?"

She nodded. Doyle didn't need to know that Angel was just as willing to do whatever she asked. If Mom says no, just go ask Dad. But neither of them ever turned her down. "You got it."

~~~~

"Xander? Are you okay?" Willow's voice was only slightly panicked. Since she knew he was safe, it was hard to work up fear. But she was afraid that the plan wouldn't work -- that he would go back to the group as soon as he was free from his "prison." That seemed to be enough to make her voice sound strained enough for him to buy her act.

"I'm fine. And I'm guessing you talked to Cordy?"

"Yeah. She's worried about you, Xander."

"I said that I'm fine." He closed his eyes, regretting the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. "I mean, there's no reason for her to worry about me. But how did *she* seem? I know how she seems to me, but that could just be a front for my sake."

"Oh, she's fine. She seemed more concerned about you than anything else. She wants to make sure everything is okay between the two of you. That you will keep in touch with her after you guys get out of wherever you are."

At those words, he didn't say anything for a long moment. He just stared into space. He had thought that the group was great -- that they accepted him without finding out all of his faults. It was a fresh start, and he could pretend his past didn't exist. Now something clicked in his mind. Cordelia was accepting him *even though* she knew all of his faults. He realized he didn't want the past to be forgotten if it meant being without Cordelia. And this was going to mean a bit of starting over again. This time without the group behind him, encouraging him to... What was it that they encouraged him to do, anyway? Just do what they told him to do. And to never think for himself. And to never look back on the past. His past. Which included Cordelia. Which meant that going back to the group equalled no further contact with her.

"Xander? Are you still there? Are you okay?"

He shook his head, clearing his mind. "Yeah. I'm fine. I need to get out of here, Will."

"I know. We're working on it." She paused, trying to figure out how to phrase her question. "So what will you do when you get out? I mean, it sounds like you and Cordelia are getting along, so are you going to stay with her? Or are you going to go back to the group?" The last question was deliberately casual. She did not want to let him know just what she thought of *that* plan. Cordelia instructed her to be as non-accusatory about the group as possible.

He sighed. He wasn't sure what he was going to do. It was becoming clear to him that going back to the group was going to mean turning his back on Cordelia, and he wasn't willing to do that. "Well, I guess it's up to her."

At that moment, the person watching his conversation grabbed the phone from his hand. "That's enough." Xander was led back out of the room and back to his "cell." And Cordelia.

~~~~

"So, how do you feel?" Cordelia was gazing at him with concern. He was perched on the edge of the bed, the heels of his hands pressed to his eyes. When he didn't answer, she sat beside him and draped one arm across his shoulders. "Xander? Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He wiped the tears from his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself dor disappointment. "When we get out of here, can I stay with you?

His eyes were focused on his shoes, so, once again, he didn't see Cordelia's smile of delight. "Of course."

~~~~

Angel "saved" them two days later. After Cordelia made sure Xander would never forget her.

~~~~

The bell over the office door jangled, signalling the entrance of four people dressed exactly like Xander had been when he had been spirited away from the group's house -- except their robes were royal blue rather than white, undoubtedly a color that signified rank in the group. "We're here for our brother. He's been missing for four days."

Angel turned to look at Cordelia. Those acting lessons had paid off. Her face had the same expression she had whenever a new client began their tale of woe. "Your brother? Okay, missing person case. Do you have any pictures of him?"

The pictures tossed on the desk confirmed Angel's suspicions. They wanted Xander back. "He was last seen being carried from our house by a man dressed completely in black." Angel. "No one got a good look at him because it was dark." Not to mention the fact that, if someone had tried to see his face, they would have seen a vampire's ridged face and dismissed it as either a mask or a hallucination. "But we heard that if someone is to be found, you can do the impossible." They ran down a few other details -- the address of the house, names and contact numbers of members of the group that should be contacted with any information, the usual.

Information that, of course, would be filed away for future reference. But not used to actually help them locate their "brother." Cordelia stood to walk them to the door. "Well, we'll see what we can do. We have your number here, so we'll just give you a call to discuss progress, okay? Thanks! Have a good evening!" And with that, she locked the door behind them. "Angel, what are we going to do? I can't let him go. I need him."

Angel's response was brief. "Get him back to Sunnydale."

"But --"

"Just get him back there. He can't stay here. Not now." He sighed, pulling a folder from his desk drawer. "I wasn't going to show you this, but I think you need to see it now."

She opened the folder to discover some of the most horrifying pictures she had ever seen. Even worse than anything she had seen in Sunnydale. The authority-type figures were dressed in robes like the group members who had just left the office. And the figures on the floor, beaten and bloody, wore scraps of clothing that Cordelia could tell used to be the same outfit that Xander had worn when he had been "liberated" from the group. And the thing that chilled her to the bone was the realization that these acts were done by humans. Now she knew the shock and disgust Buffy had felt when they had thought that Sunnydale had a child murderer.

"If he stays, they will find him. This group does *not* like it when their members leave. These pictures are of people who were just *considering* leaving. They hadn't actually left the group yet. If he goes back to Sunnydale, the rest of the gang can watch out for him." Angel smirked. "I'll even get Spike in on it. Tell him to feel free to take out anyone wearing the blue robe in the pictures."

She shuddered at the last picture in the pile -- a teenaged girl, probably no more than fifteen, being brutally raped. By the leader of the group that had just left. Next to the two, sprawled lifelessly on the floor, was a boy the same age, clearly discarded after being put through the same hell that the girl was experiencing. "Okay. And, Angel? If you find these people again, make them pay."

"Of course." He didn't tell her that he was looking forward to it.

~~~~

"Xander, I have to tell you a few things."

After their "rescue," he had been staying at Cordelia's apartment, conveniently located in the same building as the agency. She had yet to tell him the truth about their ordeal, but she realized that he needed to know the truth now. If he hated her, well, she would just have to deal with that.

He nodded. He had expected this. Time for the "you're a nice guy, but I really don't think this is going to work out" speech.

She sat down heavily on the couch, holding a folder from the agency. "There are some things you need to know about what happened."

~~~~

An hour later, he was packed and ready to get out of Los Angeles. One thing he had never expected was to be looking forward to Sunnydale -- to be thinking of it as a safe place to go. But the pictures she had shown him -- especially the picture of Victoria, the girl in the picture that had turned Cordelia's stomach -- had convinced him that he couldn't stay in Los Angeles if he truly wanted to be free of the group. Especially if he wanted to live in peace. He remembered that girl. She had been the first -- and thankfully only -- person that he himself had attracted to the group. Cordelia had convinced Doyle and Angel to go after her and the boy on the floor in the picture with her next. It had only taken a few minutes to convince them. "I wish you could come with me."

"Me, too." Cordelia sighed. "But someone has to stay here and keep tabs on those creeps. It can't be you. It has to be us since they already know our faces as 'sympathetic.' They don't need to know that we're really just milking them for all the information we can and compiling everything for the authorities. And that any strange 'problems' they encounter are really Angel and Doyle playing with them." She stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around his body and leaning her head on his shoulder. "And I can't have anything bad happen to you. We have a future to think about."

He pulled away from her, studying her face. For a moment, she panicked, afraid she had overstepped a boundary. Then he smiled faintly. "A future? Do you mean that?"

"Yeah, I do." She ran her finger down his jacket zipper. "But I mean *we*. Us. Our future together. Not separate." Now she frowned. "Unless you hate me now."

He pulled her back to his body, hands stroking her spine and neck. "No. I don't hate you. Sure, you lied about why we were in that room, but you didn't do the gungho color-by-numbers deprogramming route." Her eyes jerked to his face with a start. "Yeah, I saw those books and pamphlets in your apartment. You read all that step-by-step stuff and promptly ignored it. And you didn't tell me all that stuff that the group did before you had convinced me to leave them for you using only your feminine wiles." His hands stilled. "That was out loud, wasn't it? Now you know my secret. It was for you."

She moved her hand to his cheek, tracing his jaw before gently kissing him. "Yeah, well, the whole kidnapping thing was for you. So I think we're even."

The faint smile brightened. "Nah. I think I have a lot of thank-yous to give you. But you have to come back to Sunnydale for that."

"Xander, I have to stay here. My work --"

"No, Cor. I don't mean it like that. I can't go back unless I know you'll come back to me." He resumed his stroking of her body. "I'm not saying next week or even next month, but someday. Even if it's ten years from now."

"Well, silly, isn't that what I just finished saying? That I want -- make that need -- to know that you're there for me? And that you know I'm always there for you?" She rested her head on his chest once again. "So what are you going to do now?"

He shrugged. She smiled. She liked the way his chest moved under her head with that motion. "I don't know. Maybe I could look into school. Social work or teaching or something like that. Working with kids. Try to help them avoid making the same mistakes I made."

They were interrupted by Doyle's entrance. "Hey, you two need to break it up. And he needs to get out of here. *Now*."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "What's going on this time, Doyle?"

"Angel says El Creepo Commandant is coming. He's going to be here in ten minutes. Your boyfriend here needs to be gone without a trace by then. Otherwise, they're going to figure out that something is up."

"Oh." She kissed Xander one last time before releasing him. "You know the only reason I'm not crying right now is because I know this is only temporary, right?"

Xander smiled. "Same here." He squeezed her hands gently before turning to Doyle. "So do I have time to leave the front way, or is there a back way?"

After Xander's departure, Doyle turned his attention to Cordelia. "So was it worth it? The secrecy, the lying, the fact that you two were locked in that room for four days?"

Four days. Two were spent convincing him to leave the group, and two were spent remembering why the two of them had gotten together in the first place. "Yeah. Definitely worth it." She grinned. "Especially since the bathroom has that huge shower."

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, I think that's enough sharing for the day." Remembering why he had journeyed up to her apartment in the first place, he opened the door leading to the hallway. "Okay, time to go back to work and convince those nasties that we're on their side."

She sighed. "Do we have to? I mean, look at what they did to Xander and those kids."

Putting the photographs back in the folder, he nodded. "Yeah, we do. After all, how else are we going to gather lots of incriminating evidence for the district attorney?" Squeezing her shoulder and steering her down the hall towards the stairway to their office, he softened his voice. "Hey, cheer up. I think you and I might have to visit Spike so he knows about his newest assignment -- put him in charge of threatening and intimidating anyone from this group that he finds. Myabe he'll 'convince' them to disband. You should take four days or so off after that so you can recover from this whole thing. I understand that town's really interesting. Lots of history there."

"Spike?" She frowned. "Where is he now, anyway? Angel mentioned him earlier, but he didn't mention a location. And history? I'm going to be Research Girl for you during my 'vacation,' right?"

Doyle scratched his chin, searching his brain for that information. "It's a small town north of here. Lots of creepy critters there. I think you may have heard of it. It's called Sunnydale."

~~~ the end ~~~