You Give Me A Fever : Act 2

Xander smiled faintly and murmured, "You won't break me."

"I know I won't," he returned somberly, and he did. Xander was the strongest man whom he had ever known, it would take someone—or something—stronger than him to break the great general. Still. . ."Why don't you tell me exactly what Harland did to you, and then we'll talk."

Silver brows pulled together a fierce frown. "I've already told you that I don't remember," he responded rather severely.

"And I've already told you I think that's a bullshit excuse." Raphael leaned down and kissed him lightly, lingeringly, pulling back when he moved to deepen it. "Uh-uh. Talk to me, Xan. Give me a reason not to kill Harland the next time I see him."

"How about being put on trial for murder?" Xander returned archly.

"Pffft." Raphael waved one hand in a careless manner. "Like that would stop me."

Xander laughed again, he simply couldn't help it. It made his stomach ache horribly, but he didn't even try to hold back. Raphael merely gazed down at him, one auburn brow raised in warning, and he shook his head slightly. "I am not evading the question, Raphael. I truly don't remember what happened in the lab."

While Raphael continued to look at him skeptically, it didn't change the truth of his words. He had been wounded some eight years in the future by a very distraught Raphael. He honestly didn't remember what tests Harland had run this day, nor did he care. All he cared about was keeping Raphael close, and saving all of them from the ruin which awaited them.

Xander pulled his hand back just enough to run his fingertips over the satiny skin of Raphael's cheek. "Why don't you tell me what you were doing in Harland's laboratory when you know that neither he nor Siverald would allow it?"

Raphael flushed at that. "You were gone for nearly five hours," he said a bit defensively. "You said we'd talk when you were through, but you didn't come back, and I-"

He broke off, shifting until he was curled against Xander's side, his face hidden in a waterfall of silver hair as he whispered, "I was. . . worried about you."

"Kucingku," he murmured, moved by the heart-felt, if somewhat self-conscious, confession. He turned slightly and pulled the other man into his arms. Raphael closed his eyes and nuzzled his chest, his own arms creeping around his waist to hold him in return, and something inside of him shifted. "I am all right," he whispered with awkward reassurance. "Whatever Harland did, it was not enough to truly harm me."

Another inelegant snort sounded at that. "That's why you were bleeding like a stuck pig," he scoffed angrily.

"Raphael-"

"I know, I know, you're all right." Raphael shuddered and tightened his hold, his silky voice dropping to a whisper as he asked, "What if you hadn't been? What would I have done, then?"

Xander merely sighed and pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. "You would have survived," he murmured with absolute conviction. "Of that, I have no doubt."

The other man shuddered again and surprised Xander by falling silent. A quiet Raphael was always a dangerous thing. "Raphael, what's wrong?" he questioned warily.

Raphael had gone completely still against him, the calm before the storm, Xander knew. Sure enough, the other man placed his hands on his chest and shoved himself back, those azure eyes sparking with ill-temper. "You!" he spat, rolling to the side of the bed and gaining his feet. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his fine-boned features sharp with fury. "Do you honestly believe that I don't care what happens to you!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "'You'd survive, Raphael. What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Xander?"

Xander gazed up at him with a quizzical expression. "Just what I said, Raphael." The other man opened his mouth to speak, and he cut him off. "You are a warrior—a TANTARA. You are strong. You would survive—flourish, even—because of that strength."

"Really?" The slow, exaggerated drawl of Raphael's voice made it difficult to mistake his sarcasm for anything else. "Am I supposed to buy that drivel? Credit me with some intelligence, won't you?"

As much as he had missed him, Xander found himself fighting a nearly-forgotten urge to wrap his hands around the other man's neck. Raphael could be so damned difficult when he chose to be. "What are you truly upset about?" he asked through clenched teeth. "My being injured, my inability to remember the incident, or your own overreaction to it?"

"Overreaction?" Sky-blue eyes widened dramatically. "I found you bleeding to fucking death in Harland's lab, and I'm overreacting?"

Oh, yes, Xander thought darkly, here it comes. He braced himself as Raphael's hands fisted several times, his mouth working without sound. Raphael was well and truly pissed, and he would be lucky if his lover didn't kill him all over again. Keeping that thought in the forefront of his mind, Xander shifted subtly, his body tensing for action, only grateful that the other man wasn't armed this time.

Raphael pounced without warning. One moment he was standing four feet away, the next he was rushing through the air, using every bit of his TANTARA speed, his mouth spouting obscenities as Xander rolled out of the way. He came to his feet at the side of the bed, immediately bringing up his forearms to block a series of swift punches. Raphael was nearly as fast as he, and when he was angry, he matched him in strength as well. But Xander had no intention of spending the next few hours sparring in his bedroom, of all places, with the man he loved. It was time to end this fight, before he lost own formidable temper, and made the situation even worse.

He waited until Raphael leapt at him again and ducked slightly. He caught the man in mid-air, wrapping his arms around him long enough to throw him back on the bed. He covered his body with his own, settling between his legs to avoid being permanently damaged. He drew Raphael's hands up over his head, ignoring his heated curses, and waited patiently for his struggles to subside.

Raphael glared up at him with murder in his eyes, incensed at how easily he had been overpowered. He was a fucking First, by Goddess! He didn't care that Xander was the best, or that he was—technically—his commanding officer as the official head of SOLDIER. In his mind, they were equals, and he wanted Xander to acknowledge that. And, in some twisted part of his heart, he wanted nothing less than the other's blood as proof of it.

"Motherfucker!" he hissed, twisting and arching in a vain attempt to free himself before Xander reacted as he always had—by fucking him out of his temper. "You've had your fun! Let go of me-now."