Disclaimer: Unfortunately BtVS and Covert Affairs belong to other people and always will.
Xander slipped though the throng of pretty people. He never had the eye for fashion that the girls did but it was as if they were all wearing a uniform – one that said I’m a federal agent ask me how. They all seemed very young, and very earnest, as opposed to the crowd near Georgetown campus when he’d had drinks with Dawn last night who all seemed very young and desperately trying to look jaded and above it all.
Roaming Africa for a number of years he had learned to spot a variety of uniforms. If he didn’t miss his guess the last time he’d seen the guy up ahead being greeted by just about every woman in the place, he’d been wearing a different uniform. He also seemed to remember he and his buddies had been pretty good sports about getting their asses handed to them by a handful of teenaged girls in a touch football game. There weren’t many special forces guys you could say that about. The slayers had made it a 10/0 shut out.
He really hoped the others were still around because the cane let him know that the desert wasn’t the Club Med vacation they had made it out to be. There was a story there. Probably messy and painful and it was always possible he wouldn’t want to be reminded but Xander wasn’t going to not at least say hi.
“Captain August Anderson, if I don’t miss my guess, this means I’m king.” Xander’s greeting caused a few of the babes nearby to shoot him dirty looks.
However, Auggie, after briefly furrowing his forehead in concentration and cocking his head let out a bark of laughter and said, “Xander Harris. And should I hazard a guess that you’re accompanied by a bevy of beauties who can kick my ass?”
“Not in a bar,” Xander said. “Grab a table with me?”
“The burgers are awesome,” Auggie said with a nod and added, “you know the king buys the beer.”