The Dead Deal

Part I

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  A couple of weeks after the Acathla affair, the detectives assigned to the Harris’ disappearance case had talked to everyone who saw Anthony and Jessica Harris that day, and concluded the parents either ran away or were abducted. Considering they took nothing with them, there was no ransom demand, and their bank accounts were left untouched, the police suspected they were abducted, and presumed dead. As this was Sunnydale, no further investigation was pursued.

  Xander was forced to stay with his Uncle Rory for the summer until he could resolve an aggravating amount of paperwork and court filings to live on his own. Generally, a minor had to fill out a petition for a judge, or have an attorney fill one out on his behalf. In Xander’s case, he had Willow, and she helped him out immensely. The petition had to explain why the seventeen-year-old Xander was seeking emancipation, information about his current living situation, and evidence that he was, or will be, financially self-sufficient. The fact that he made money at Wild Dinks went a long way to getting approval from the courts.

  Aside from the monumentally tedious labor of becoming emancipated, claiming his parents’ life insurance, and transferring the house to his name, Xander continued working out through the summer. Flexing his body’s musculature in a variety of ways—resistance training, sports, boxing—and pushing them as hard as he could was the second-best stress relief he had after forging. When Xander wasn’t hanging out with Willow and Oz, he was at the forge, mastering his craft to make better rings and weapons.

  Sadly, Xander didn’t have anyone else to hang out with. Cordelia left for Cheer camp soon after school ended, and would be vacationing with her parents in Las Palmas, Mexico after that. Joyce Summers was a twenty-minute-visit tops, or it would get weird. Xander had little to do with anyone, so, he slayed every night since Giles & Buffy left Sunnydale a day after Acathla was stopped.

  Spike fled that night, Drusilla & Angel chased after him, and Buffy & Giles soon hunted them. Xander wanted to go with her to stop her from killing either Spike or Angel, however, she insisted on going alone. Xander quickly pointed out Giles’ inclusion, but the slayer made him the exception by simply explaining, “He’s my watcher.”

  “You need a combat specialist,” Xander argued, not appreciating her flimsy reason for taking Giles. If Xander returned to October 31st after all the work and sacrifices he had put into this loop, he felt certain he’d lose his mind. He didn’t have it in him to keep looping indefinitely without losing it. “Giles is great with books and critical thinking,” Xander argued. “But you need a hunter with you.”

  Buffy sternly looked into his brown eyes, placing her hand on his chest before soft-heartedly confessing, “Xander… this year—not being with Angel—has been nothing short of hell for me. And now the very thing we were trying to avoid in the first place, happened anyway.” He noted the tears welling up in her greenish-blue eyes, but she pushed on to express, “Do you know what it’s like to lie in bed and hope you fall asleep before you break apart? I need to do this, but, I need to do this alone.”

  Unless he followed her in secret, there was no changing her mind. She asked him to be understanding, and with firsthand knowledge of what it’s like being on the edge of losing it, Xander glumly nodded. He’ll have to take the risk she wouldn’t be able to kill Spike or Angel, forcing him to loop again. If she did, at the very least, he could save lives… if he still cared. Buffy also asked him to watch after her mother, along with Sunnydale, while she was away, which gave him a sense of validation. It also made him dread failing her. He’d already let Jenny, his parents, and Kendra die. Xander couldn’t take any more if Joyce passed away on his watch as well.

  The worst part of Buffy’s departure was revealing the truth about being the Slayer to her mother. It took an hour to convince Joyce that her daughter wasn’t on drugs, then another thirty minutes to explain what a Slayer does. Buffy lifted the refrigerator with ease, and at the sight of the clutter accumulated, the embarrassed mother took the opportunity to sweep the mess underneath. Xander showed her the magic of his axe, and Giles explained the raging war between the forces of good and evil. Mrs. Summers was in shock for some time afterward, but Buffy couldn’t stay to ease her worry. She promised her mother she’d call often, while Willow, Xander, and Oz promised Buffy they’d check in on her frequently.

  To Xander’s daily dismay, Buffy was gone the entire summer. And she didn’t even call him. He was fairly certain Buffy had been talking with Willow and Joyce for the first month. They’d mention to him touching base with her, however, they didn’t share what they talked about. For a month, Xander wondered why he didn’t merit a phone call, then, the second month ended any calls from Buffy altogether. Giles assured everyone they were fine, but other than that, no one heard from her. During patrols, Willow often pondered the reasons why with him, but Xander was always annoyed he never got a call to begin with.

  Giles and Buffy’s absence left patrolling to the remaining Scoobies. Due to Xander’s long-gained combat experience, the trinity of Xander, Willow, and Oz made a lot of progress as a team during the slow vampire summer, and had more successes than failures. Xander took the lead, Willow supported him with her magic, and Oz protected Willow with a newly forged spear. It wasn’t at Slaymore or Dreadnought’s level, but with one rune in the pattern-welded steel of the spearhead, the mid-range weapon was indestructible.

  The first time Willow saw Xander fight and kill a vampire on his own—using precise footwork and distancing to narrowly avoid rapidly thrown punches, then counter perfectly—the redhead couldn’t fathom how capable he was. Of all his friends, Willow was right beside him through his long history of insecurity and screw-ups. Now the boy with a Snoopy dance was dusting vampires at the same level as their super-powered friend. With Dreadnought in his skilled hand, and his fourth iteration of Odin’s Ring of Power on his finger, Xander could slip a vampire’s hard punches, counter, and kill the blood-sucking demons without getting seriously injured.

  His ring specifically helped Xander in ways his battleaxe couldn’t. Dreadnought felt like an extension of his body; supremely sharp, indestructible, flew to him on command, and boosted his healing process. Odin’s ring brought out his body’s capabilities upon command, no matter how latent. It was the runes of ᚾ, ᛞ, ᛊ ᛋ, for ‘need, multiply, and power,’ he etched into the metal of the ring. The rune for Need was invoked when his mind asked for more strength, speed, healing, durability, senses, etc. The runes for Multiply & Power were like the volume knob on a radio. Xander could increase these by however much his body was capable of. If his body could typically bench 185 lbs five times, with the ring’s effect, he could safely do twice as many reps for fifty percent more weight, pushing 277 lbs ten times. If his body couldn’t—if he pushed it too far—there would be consequences.

  Pushing past fifty percent when his body couldn’t handle it would shred his muscle fibers and tendons, forcing him to take time to heal. The consequences were apparent for all the things he needed. If he wanted to hear a conversation ten feet away, he could lose his hearing if something loud sounded off around him. Too much strength, too much speed, and too much healing all had consequences, whether he tore his muscles, sprained his joints, or became so hungry from healing; he could clear two family dinners by himself. Though the ring felt like Steve Rogers’ Super Soldier Serum when active, it wasn’t the same and had its downsides. Fortunately, the more he used it, the stronger he felt the following day.

  With the realization that every day was inching closer to the end of the year loop, Xander threw himself into training and all manner of forging to keep his anxiety at bay. The last thing he wanted to do was get complacent and loop back because of a careless mistake. So, the restless teen forged many one-rune swords until Pete Dink suggested creating chef knives. He explained they have a larger market than swords and are faster to make.

  “You can make one a day- a good one, obviously. Let’s not skimp on quality. And they sell twice as fast,” Pete informed him, and for the money & ease, Xander capitulated. As the business savvy Pete explained, “The more buzz you get about your knives, the higher the demand, and the more you sell. Then, we slowly raise the price.” The scruffy blacksmith was giddy at raising the price and Xander couldn’t begrudge the man his monetary pleasures. Pete helped him out a lot, and if he could return the favor, he would.

  Xander was making decent money by the end of summer, however, he only cared to see Buffy back by the start of school. That didn’t happen. The one he saw through an opening crowded school hall, was Cordelia. For the first time in months, their eyes just locked on each other and were incapable of looking away. Their bodies were like powerful magnets within each other’s field of influence, eager to crash against each other. Xander and Cordelia slept together on her first night back. Whether it was a good idea or not, they couldn’t have stopped themselves even if they wanted to. It had been too long and there was no reason not to feel amazing in bed together. That night, he didn’t let her rest until they were both spent and passed out.

  At breakfast, a more clear-headed Xander had to ask her, “Can we talk about last night?”

  They were in his kitchen and Cordelia was wearing nothing but panties and his Sunnydale sweater. Her hair was done up in a ponytail and she didn’t look perfectly put together, but even this look was just so alluring on her. In the morning light, her natural beauty shone through like a scenery scene on a Hallmark card. So laid back and at home, this was a view he was certain no other man had ever seen, and felt honored. However, as amazing as they could be together, he knew her destiny wasn’t in Sunnydale.

  “No,” Cordelia flatly answered him before taking a bite of the egg white omelet he attempted to make. At the wrinkle of her button nose, it was clear she wasn’t a fan of his cooking.

  Looking at his eggs skeptically, Xander made a mental note to learn how to cook as he replied, “I think we should.”

  Setting down her fork, she turned to him before asking, “Why? There’s not much to say. We hadn’t seen each other in months and we got a little carried away.”

  Raising his brows curiously, he slowly asked, “That’s it? No lingering… feelings?”

  “Lingering feelings, hmmm,” she slowly repeated, tilting her head up in deep thought. Then, as if suddenly finding the topic extremely interesting, she stated with purpose, “You know what? I changed my mind. Let’s talk.”

  “Suddenly, I don’t want to anymore,” he replied with a quick head shake.

  “No, no, you opened this door,” she asserted, sitting up at the dining table. “We’re going to walk right through it.”

  “I have no problems closing it,” he swiftly expressed with growing apprehension.

  “Relax,” Cordelia said with an annoyed expression. “I only want you to know that last night’s pleasant trip to nirvana won’t happen again. We won’t sleep together, kiss, or anything beyond the normal high school, monsters, and slaying stuff.”

  Unexpectedly taken aback, he voiced, “Uh… Okay?”

  “But, I still like you… It may even be more than like,” she slowly confessed. At his perplexed expression, she added, “If you’re confused, good. You nearly gave me a wrinkle stressing about this all summer.”

  “Cor, you know I-”

  “Just, wait. I’m not done,” she interrupted with a wave. “I accept—even if it makes no earthly sense—that Buffy seems to be the girl you so tragically want. I’m also not going to act on my feelings for you because I’m better than that. However, in return for my being all sorts of amazing about this, you’re going to confess to Buffy, and try—I’m talking really try—to get together. None of this waiting it out, or being friends until she suddenly realizes, ‘the one she’s supposed to be with was right here all along,’ crap. I want you to tell her the truth about your feelings. And don’t sugar-coat it either.”

  “So… you want me to confess so she can shoot me down right away?” he quickly asked, slightly offended by the stipulation. “Then you and I can get together, right?”

  Wincing as if disgusted, Cordelia quickly replied, “I will never in my right mind force a guy to be with me. If he doesn’t see what a catch I am, he’s clearly blind or mentally deficient!” Xander nodded as that seemed right on brand with her and he respected it. What worried him about her condition was when she stated, “I just don’t believe she’ll ever love you. And the quicker you realize that, the better off you’ll be. So, promise me.”

  Shaking his head, he objectively pointed out, “You can’t just make me promise something like-”

  “If you’re too scared to even try, I doubt you actually love her,” she quickly interjected.

  “Hey, hey, hey… fear is a natural part of survival,” Xander rationalized, already feeling the nervousness setting in.

  “Just promise me, Xander,” she genuinely asked. “If you love her, if she inspires you or whatever, promise me you’ll confess no less than three times.”

  He hesitated to ask, “…And afterward?”

  “The only major plans in my future right now are prom and college. So, get one last look in-” She stood, removing her scrunchy and letting her luscious hair down as she posed in his sweater, twisting and turning as she lifted the hem just enough for him to barely see her lacy black panties. Then sensually added, “Because unless you get with the program, you won’t ever see me naked again.”

  Though Xander was scared his confession to Buffy might somehow lead to him looping back, he was also beginning to suspect that Buffy would be the thing that set him free. Xander couldn’t explain it and there was no tangible proof for his theory, but his heart was the only part of him left to elevate. With the costumes and loops, he was able to gain skills he might never have before. Buffy could be the key to his heart, as well as his escape from the time braid. In his mind, it made as much sense as anything else.

  “Fine,” he told her. “I promise.”

  Cordelia nodded before leaving him without another word, going back upstairs to get ready. She didn’t even offer him a ride to school. They were either back to the way they were, or in a holding pattern. Amused, Xander thought it was for the best and threw his battle-axe in a guitar case before leaving.

  The following night, Buffy and Giles finally returned, weary from constant travel. Willow, Oz, Cordelia, and Xander met them in the library and realized quickly that the watcher and slayer didn’t have the energy to answer too many questions about their journey. They simply wanted to let them know they had returned and convey that things were fine now. Xander wasn’t sure what that meant, and they didn’t stay to explain it. Though he was happy the slayer hadn’t killed either vampire, he found her return anticlimactic.

  The following morning, Xander spotted Willow and Buffy twenty yards away talking in the courtyard. He was on his way toward them when their serious expressions stopped him. With his decades of repeating history, Xander could tell this was a private conversation they likely wouldn’t have with him. It was girl talk of sorts, which meant they wouldn’t tell him, which he deduced involved Angel somehow. If it involved Angel and helped explain what happened, Xander accepted the guilty feeling of bidding his ring to enhance his hearing to eavesdrop on their conversation.

  When Buffy asked, “So, can you do it?” Xander was worried about his friend as much as his hearing. Filtering out all the other unwanted noises was incredibly difficult and it hurt like stabbing his brain with a blade made of noise.

  “If it worked with Spike, it can work with Angel,” Buffy earnestly argued.

  His suspicions were founded when Willow asked, “What happened?” And Buffy hesitated before sadly answering, “I… couldn’t do it, Will. I couldn’t kill him. I had the chance. Angelus and Drusilla were about to kill Giles, and I just froze. All he had to do was say he loved me, and I was- I was done. I froze.” Looking at Willow desperately, Buffy begged, “I need him to be Angel again, Will, or I’m not going to make it.”

  It was fear that only Willow—as Buffy’s best female friend—was privy to, and Xander didn’t know how to feel. He was certainly vile for eavesdropping on them, however, Xander had a personal stake in Angel, Spike, or Buffy dying; a stake they wouldn’t understand until he revealed everything to them. He vowed for the hundredth time to tell them everything once he escaped the time braid, and hoped they forgave him.

  The following night, Xander and Buffy were patrolling Shady Hill cemetery together. Xander wore his work khakis, boots, a gray long-sleeve Henley, and had Dreadnought on the special holster that kept the battleaxe at his back. Buffy wore black jeans, a muted orange top, a black jacket, and Slaymore strapped to her waist. They hadn’t seen a vampire yet and were halfway through their patrol when he abruptly told her. “I’m expecting the new slayer any day now.”

  The perky blonde turned to him, whipping her hair over her shoulder as she asked, “You’re psychic now?”

  “It only makes sense,” he somberly reasoned, thinking of the late Kendra fondly.

  “I guess,” Buffy agreed before pointing out, “I don’t see why she’d come here, though.”

  “Well, we do have the best slayer on the block,” Xander boasted with a smirk. “Maybe she’d want some tips.”

  With a small smile of her own, an amused Buffy reminded him, “Not really how we operate.”

  “I hope she’s blonde,” Xander playfully jested, knowing full well that Faith was a brunette. “You can never have too many blondes.”

  Though he expected another smile, Buffy became more grave. Her expression was heavy when she queerly brought up, “On an unrelated topic… I wanted to ask you about Spike.”

  “Unless it’s that blond,” Xander quickly grumbled. “We don’t need any more homicidal blonds, thank you.”

  Nodding, Buffy continued saying, “I happened to run into him while we were chasing Angel.”

  “Ugghh,” he spat, rubbing his stomach with his hand. With a wincing smile, he asserted hopefully, “I hope he’s a complete wreck, sobbing in a pool of his own tears and feces.”

  “Uh, gross,” Buffy replied, wincing at the visual. “Do you want to know what happened?”

  With a lackluster shrug, he answered, “As long as you still hate his guts, I guess.”

  Buffy gently said, “He… asked me how he could go about apologizing to you.”

  With a hard roll of his brown eyes, moving his entire head with the gesture, an animated Xander spitefully replied, “Aww, ain’t that just the sweetest muck of horse manure that’s ever been shoved down my ear canal.”

  “Xander…”

  “What?” he asked, abruptly turning to her. With the horrible memory of his parent’s disturbing end front & center on his mind, he questioned, “What’s going on here? Why are we talking about Spike when we could be talking about the new slayer?”

  Raising peaceful palms to show she meant no offense, Buffy affirmed, “It’s… It’s just a serious case of the curiosity bug. That’s all. I mean, you’re the one who pushed to ensoul him when we were all happy to kill him. Now he has one; like Angel did.”

  “So?” Xander quickly replied. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to forget that he murdered my parents or Ms. Calendar or all the other horrible stuff he’s done throughout his undead life!”

  “Hey, I get it. I get it,” Buffy quickly conveyed, resting her palms on his shoulders, massaging them in hopes of calming him.

  “…Sorry,” Xander said with a more relaxed disposition. “I just hate that guy and all his stupid, bad-boy Englishness.”

  “I’m not asking you to forget or anything,” Buffy softly shared with him. “I only brought it up just in case we see him again. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “If we ever see him again, it’ll be too soon,” he assured her.

  The pair patrolled several cemeteries together, and they took turns slaying the few vampires they came across, even making a little game of the kills. Points were awarded on technique, style, and time, and points were lost for damage taken, which was Xander’s biggest weakness. They only dusted four vampires that night, but it was some much-needed fun for them.

  Toward the end of patrol, Xander nervously asked, “Hey Buff?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Uh… I wa-was wondering- ahem! Excuse me,” he coughed, feeling a sharp tickle in the back of his throat. With Cordelia’s promise on his mind, Xander nervously asked, “I was wondering if you wanted to go to the Bronze tomorrow.”

  “Mmmmmn, yeah, sure,” she casually said, with a shoulder shrug. “See ya tomorrow.”

  As Xander watched her leave and felt the nervousness seep out of his body, he got the impression she misunderstood his intent, and felt spared of the potential rejection. Even through his Casanova training, he never had to put his heart on the line to such an extent. Even with Cordelia, it wasn’t the typical avenue of a boy and girl getting together. Walking home to his empty house, he realized none of the women he’s been with—including Old Man Xander memories—happened normally. Natalie French, Ampata, Cordelia, Faith, Anya, and Dawn; Xander didn’t chase any of them.

  ‘And at least half tried to kill me- er, him? Me and him? Whatever,’ Xander thought as he entered his deathly silent home. He rushed to his room as he realized pursuing anything with Buffy was going to be unlike anything he’s ever done in the future or loops.

  At the Bronze the following night, Oz and Willow were on the couch making out while Xander and Cordelia were talking nearby. The nightclub was as lively as ever, and out of the corner of Xander’s eye, he kept watching Faith. She was dancing aggressively with a man in his mid-to-late 20s, likely a vampire judging by his dated dancing and pale skin. Faith was young, hot, dressed in a black crop top with a low neckline, and tight, striped orange & yellow leggings. She looked wild on the dance floor, and Xander could tell she enjoyed disorder and embraced craziness.

  When Buffy arrived, Cordelia immediately offered the slayer her seat. Surprised but grateful, Buffy thanked Cordelia as she sat next to her friend, who gave Xander a knowing glance before leaving. Easily understanding what the cheerleader wanted, Xander felt like he was sitting on a hot plate. Then Scott Hope stopped by.

  “Hi, Scott,” Willow cheerfully began. “What are you doing here?”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Xander went from incredibly nervous to incredibly defensive, and hated how he’d never be rid of his teenage hormones, no matter how many times he looped. He nodded tightly to the handsome brunette boy.

  Turning to Willow, Scott answered, “You told me if I came after eight, I could run into Buffy.” The grotesquely candid Scott then admitted to Buffy, “I’m a bad liar. It’s not good for the soul- or the skin; It makes me blotch.” He was so charming, that Xander felt sick and Buffy smiled as she greeted him. “Don’t you love this song?” he asked her.

  “Actually... I do.”

  Scott waited a second before asking, “Would you like to...?” as he pointed to the dance floor behind him.

  “Dance?” Buffy asked.

  Unable to help the joke galloping out of his lips, Xander joked, “Either that or find a corner to talk about our lord and savior, Jesus Christ.”

  Buffy gave her raven-haired friend the most amusedly disapproving look, to which he only grinned. She turned back to Scott and answered, “I, uh... I don’t know. I mean... I don’t know. Thanks for asking but...”

  Scott graciously nodded before offering, “I’ll tell you what. I’m going to go stand by the dance floor. If you change your mind, you can mosey on over. If not… you don’t mosey. No harm, no foul.”

  Scott smiled before they all watched him go. Now Xander’s emotions felt simultaneously respect for his fellow senior taking his chance, and pitiful for being so nervous about something so simple.

  “Come on, Buffy,” Willow reproached her best friend. “The guy is pure charm, and normal, which is something we should get back to.”

  Oz nodded before adding, “Plus, bonus points for the use of the word ‘mosey.’”

  Xander focused heavily on Buffy’s words of, “I’m just... I’m not ready.”

  “What’s stopping you?” Willow asked, and at Buffy’s subtle look, three people knew the answer was Angel.

  Xander was wondering if he should make his move at all when the slayer suddenly got up. He asked, “Buffy?”

  “Uh… hold on,” the distracted slayer said as she looked toward the other end of the club.

  Xander followed her eye line to the exit, and noticed Faith, along with her disco-dancing friend, was gone. The teen got up and followed Buffy. As they weaved through the crowd to get outside, Xander wondered if Buffy already felt her connection with Faith. He knew from his Old Man memories that the slayers had an odd bond, like an unconscious manifestation of a mental link between them, and go so far as to have slayer dreams about each other. As they rushed through the door to the cool night, Xander wondered if Buffy felt it.

  Outside of the Bronze, Buffy’s head swiveled left and right, concerned as she asked, “Where’d they go?”

  Hearing a bit of a scuffle from around the corner, Xander answered, “I’m guessing in the alley.”

  Buffy was already running like Faith’s life depended on it. She took her stake out as she arrived, only to witness Faith happily slugging it out with the disco vampire. Buffy watched in complete confusion, and Xander simply studied the second slayer’s technique. Faith’s model face was full of glee, as her head slipped the vampire’s punch and returned one of her own, ignoring the body and going for the face. Like any slayer, Faith was fast, hit hard, and her body was supernaturally conditioned to fight the very strong. The vampire was definitely feeling her consecutive hits, but everything else clearly lacked training.

  ‘Abysmal,’ Xander thought as he watched the brunette slugger. ‘Complete brawler. No footwork. Just toe-to-toe, slip and punch.’

  Buffy was taken aback when Faith left mid-fight to tell the blonde slayer, “S’okay, I got it. You’re Buffy, right?” Buffy was speechless as the brunette introduced herself. “Hi, I’m Faith.”

  The vampire was just as horrible of a fighter as it tried to grab Faith from behind. The gorgeous brunette head-butted him, and they all heard the meaty CRACK of a broken nose. It let her go and she immediately kicked the fanged creature toward the wall. She ducked a two-punch combination before kneeing him in the stomach and delivering a powerful right hook, knocking it to the ground.

  Faith quickly nabbed Buffy’s stake, saying, “Can I borrow that?” Then stabbed the beaten vampire in the chest, turning it into dust.

  “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say the new slayer is in town,” Oz casually pointed out, and Xander nodded in agreement.

  Turning to the blonde slayer, Faith handed the stake back as she said, “Thanks, B. Couldn’t have done it without ya,” and returned to the Bronze as if nothing had happened. Willow seemed concerned for Buffy, Oz was cool about it all, Buffy was silently contemplative, and Xander was in a good mood. Despite all of his recent missteps, meeting Faith felt like a milestone. This was the first time he had met Faith, so there was no denying that he had come really far.

  They met the extroverted girl from south Boston inside, grabbed a corner for themselves, and immediately began sharing stories. This Faith was a lot like how Old Man Xander remembered her in the beginning, before she reformed. She was wild, carefree, fun, and dangerously promiscuous. She lived on the edge, pushed boundaries, and Xander wondered why no one thought her behavior was a red flag.

  “It was about a hundred and eighteen degrees,” Faith energetically recounted to the gathered Scoobies. “I’m sleepin’ without a stitch on. Suddenly, I hear all this screamin’. I go tearin’ outside, buck-ass nude. This church bus broke down, and three vamps were just feasting on half the Baptists. So, I waste the vamps and the preacher’s hugging me like there’s no tomorrow. That’s when the cops pull up and arrest both of us. Sexual assault on a minor for him, and public indecency for me.”

  The story wasn’t funny, however, considering he was the only one that knew her future, it was genuinely comical for Xander. He wanted to laugh, but simply remarked, “They should film that story and show it every Christmas.”

  Faith grabbed another muffin and wolfed it down as she bemoaned, “God, I could eat a horse!” Turning to Buffy, she asked her sister-slayer, “Isn’t it crazy? Slayin’ always makes you just, so freakin’ hungry and horny.”

  Oz, Willow, and Xander all turned to Buffy with raised eyebrows to hear her answer. Put on the spot, the blonde seized up as she eyed her friends. Feeling pressured to answer, her lips opened and closed a few times before she awkwardly pointed out, “Well… sometimes I crave a non-fat yogurt afterward...”

  Willow asked Faith, “Why were you called to Sunnydale?”

  Looking at her half-eaten muffin, Faith answered, “I wasn’t.” Something in Xander’s head told him she wasn’t being completely honest when she quickly explained, “My watcher went to some retreat thing in England, so I skipped out. I thought, this is my big chance to meet the infamous Buffy and compare notes.” Looking at Buffy, she asked, “So B, did you really use a rocket launcher one time?”

  At Faith’s mention of the rocket launcher, it was confirmation for Xander that Giles did send reports to the Watcher’s council, or at least to other watchers. It made the time looper wonder why the other watchers weren’t sending Giles anything about their slayers.

  ‘Or maybe Giles just doesn’t tell us what those other watchers send?’ Xander thought.

  After orating the Judge saga to the girl from South Boston, Faith asked Buffy, “Was he your toughest kill?”

  To Xander, it appeared as if Buffy froze. Her eyes went blank, as if remembering something terrible, then just as quickly, she returned and diplomatically answered, “They’re all tough in different ways, I guess...”

  “I’m wondering,” Oz began, looking at Faith. “What’s your position on werewolves?”

  Proudly, Willow told Faith, “Oz is a werewolf.”

  At Faith’s raised eyebrows, Buffy explained, “It’s a long story.”

  “I got bit,” Oz confessed.

  “Apparently not that long,” the blonde awkwardly corrected herself.

  Faith answered him, “As long as you don’t go scratchin’ me or humpin’ my leg, we’re five-by-five.”

  ‘Yes! She said it!’ Xander mentally yelled, holding in his broad grin. ‘That’s the first time I heard it!’

  After Buffy arranged for Faith to meet Giles in the morning, the group separated for the night. Xander then insisted on walking Buffy home. It was a cool August night as they walked to her home, and they made it a third of the way before he couldn’t refrain from boasting any longer.

  “Told you,” he said with a smile.

  Figuring out what he meant, Buffy rolled her eyes before replying, “She’s not blonde, though.”

  “She’s not?” he jested. “Huh, I hadn’t noticed.”

  Giving him a stern, squinted look, Buffy demanded to know, “You’re not going to sleep with this one, are you?”

  “No, no, no,” he returned, shaking his head. Rubbing his chin in as if in deep consideration, he commented, “But after seeing Faith, I’m seriously starting to wonder if I have a type.”

  Lightly shoulder bumping him, Buffy remarked, “Call me crazy, but I don’t think you’re going to trip your way into her pants.”

  “Probably not,” he easily agreed. “She strikes me as the type to club me over the head, drag me into her cave by my hair, and have her way with me.” Buffy laughed wonderfully carefree from beside him, and he relished in such a singular treasure. The crescent moon in the ink-black sky above was bright. The night was crisp, and after a moment of silence, Xander felt there was no better time to ask.

  Rather nervously, he cleared his throat before saying, “Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about something.”

  “What’s up?”

  “This is… uh, difficult to get across, so, I’m just going to say it. I like you, Buffy.”

  Turning to him, she smiled sweetly as she leaned in, affectionately rubbing shoulders as she replied, “Aww, I like you too.”

  “No,” he said, walking in front of her, stopping their progress. In the middle of her quiet neighborhood, Xander gazed deeply into her greenish-blue eyes as he confessed, “I like, like, you, but it’s actually more like love, like you.” Her face morphed to stunned surprise, and in his mind, he reasoned, ‘in for a penny…’ Then said, “I know this caught you off guard, but I’ve been in love with you since I first laid eyes- well, no. That was more like lust- Not that I do that anymore- Well, I mean, I guess I still do… okay, I’m crashing here.”

  Buffy licked her lips like they were super dry before trying to interject, “Uh, Xander-”

  “Wait, wait,” Xander insisted, wanting to get it all out before he stopped himself. “All I’m trying to say is… I can make you happy, Buffy. I know what you said to Scott, but I think we could be great together; if you just give me a chance. That’s all I’m asking for; a chance.”

  Eying the sidewalk, she hesitated to say, “…I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything,” he assured her, leaning down to catch her eyeline. Their eyes connected again, and he asked, “Just, think about it. And if you’ll consider it, meet me at Pink’s this Friday, eight o'clock. Of course, since we’re on the Hellmouth, Friday may be subject to change depending on the monster that’s stupid enough to need killing.”

  She half-smiled before slowly remarking, “...I love Pink’s.”

  “Best hotdog in California,” he proclaimed.

  “...I still don’t know,” she said, shaking her head doubtfully. “You’re one of my best friends.”

  “I’m not saying it won’t be an adjustment,” he reasoned. “But, what’s so wrong with being more?” At her silence, he asked, “Just think about it?”

  Buffy looked into his serious, vulnerable brown eyes and nodded once before answering, “Okay. I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

  Faith spent the following day with the Scooby Gang. After talking to Giles about the disappearance of two individuals on Sunset Ridge, they showed her around school and retold a few stories of their adventures. Faith seemed particularly interested in Xander’s battleaxe. In the library after school, he let her hold Dreadnought, then walked over to the other end of the room. The group watched as he called his magical axe to his hand, instantly astonishing the Boston Slayer.

  In a trance, Faith almost floated to Xander. Gazing between the axe and its master, the incredibly eager brunette asked, “How do I get my hands on one? Like, right now!”

  Incredibly proud, Willow boasted with a broad smile, “Xander made it himself.”

  Whipping her head from the redhead to Xander, she gasped, “Really?” At his smiling nod, it was like a switch had been flipped. Faith somehow became softer, sensual. Her step forward added more sway to her hips and she tucked a strand of her lustrous chestnut brown hair behind her ear as her eyes seductively gazed into his. Her small smile felt incredibly inviting, and Xander raised his eyebrows high as her sexy voice stated, “So… you’re good with your hands. I like that.”

  She was a shameless flirt, and Xander didn’t mind one bit; not enough to pursue Faith over Buffy, but happy for the attention. Willow and Buffy were astonished by the new slayer’s blatant, provocative advances. Xander was just happy Cordelia wasn’t there. Though he understood the cheerleader was staying away for a reason, he was sure she wouldn’t appreciate another slayer vying for his attention.

  Xander cleared his throat before answering, “I, uh, wouldn’t mind making you something.”

  The bewitching brunette moved mere inches away from him as she replied, “Oooh?” He could feel her warm body heat as she looked deeply into his eyes and teased, “I feel a trade coming. Hope we can negotiate on a comfortable surface.”

  Buffy and Willow were blushing deeply and Xander’s throat was drier than a desert. He wanted to take a step back, but knew he couldn’t; not with a girl like her. He plastered a serene smile, turning on his own charm, if only to keep from being overwhelmed, then answered, “Yeah, I doubt it’ll be comfortable.”

  With a lethal grin, she seductively returned, “Even better.”

  Xander focused heavily on disgusting images of rotting corpses, clowns, and giant spiders to prevent his little soldier from saluting the room as he stated, “Just be real with us and I can get one started for you.”

  A quirked, manicured brow was the only indication she was surprised. Then she asked, “You one of those sensitive types? Like to nice-guy your way into a girl’s panties?”

  Buffy gasped from the side and Willow was blushing madly, but Xander ignored them as he moved to the heart of what he wanted from Faith. “I’m saying we can’t help you if we don’t know the full story.”

  Drawing her brows together, wrinkling the skin between, she stepped back before asking, “You sayin’ I’m lying?”

  “I don’t think you’re a liar, Faith, but I do think you’re hiding something,” Xander clarified. He could tell she was offended, and added, “Which is fine. We only just met. I don’t expect you to spill your guts to complete strangers on day one or anything.”

  With all her alluring sensuality gone, the native Bostonian was all attitude when she asserted, “You’re right, I don’t have to tell you anything.”

  An irate Faith left the library after that, and though Xander was hoping for some alone time to talk with Buffy, the blonde said, “I’d better go after her.”

  After the slayers left, Oz and Willow went to study and Xander told Giles to call the Watcher’s retreat to verify Faith’s story. “Perhaps we should focus more on our missing persons.”

  “It’s just a phone call, Giles,” Xander started. “What if this is worse than she’s saying?”

  Giles nodded and Xander left for Dinks to take his mind off Buffy and his confession with a lot of smithing. After school the following day, Xander had just missed Buffy. She’d been quiet all day, and he wrongfully assumed it was about his confession. He hoped to gauge which way she was leaning. Instead, he learned of her troubles with Faith and the name Kakistos from Giles. Apparently, Faith nearly got them killed on patrol when she lost her head to the thrill of battle, beating a single vampire to a pulp whilst Buffy had to fight four on her own.

  “It was fortunate she had Slaymore,” Giles told him. “Or I shudder to think what might’ve happened.”

  Xander didn’t have any future memories of the vampire Kakistos, and asked the watcher, “So what’s this Takitos guy?”

  “Kakistos is Greek,” Giles began explaining. “It means, the worst of the worst. It’s also the name of a vampire so old his hands and feet are cloven. He’s quite a formidable foe, possessing the same powers as other vampires, however, to a much higher degree.”

  Growing more concerned for Buffy by the minute, Xander asked, “So, where’s she now?”

  “Buffy suspects there’s a connection between the arrivals of Faith and Kakistos and went to speak with her,” Giles answered. At Xander’s expectant and waiting expression, he added, “I-I’m afraid I don’t know where precisely-”

  Xander rushed out of the library. With Dreadnought in a guitar case over his shoulder, Xander first took the bus to the Motor Lodge Inn. When he could find neither Buffy nor Faith, he traveled to the cheapest motel in Sunnydale. It was well into the night when he reached the grimy motel, and due to the two police cars and an ambulance flashing their emergency lights, knew he had the right place. Xander found the room the police were investigating, and from afar, followed the trail of destruction as far away from the scene as he could. When the trail went cold a mile away, Xander ran around the poorest part of town until he finally found them.

  He had missed all the action once again.

  The beat-up slayers were walking out of an abandoned, burned-out building. Catching up to them, Xander noted how sweaty the dirt-covered girls were, how red their knuckles were, and Faith’s busted lip. Other than messy hair, Buffy seemed fine. Upon reaching them, Faith apologized for being, in her words, a bitch, then politely asked for an axe like his to match Buffy’s Slaymore.

  “I’ll think about it if you leave that gross motel room and come stay at my place,” Xander replied.

  “Excuse me,” Buffy quickly replied, turning to her friend with raised brows.

  “What?” he asked the skeptical-looking Buffy. “There’s plenty of space and having a slayer there would be safer.”

  Buffy didn’t seem pleased, but said nothing. With a hint of sinister fun behind Faith’s smile, she wickedly stated, “Well, if all I gotta do for an axe is keep you safe, I’ll stick to you like honey on a hot biscuit.”

  That sounded more enticing than it had any right to be, making Buffy bid them goodnight. Getting anstier for a reply, Xander didn’t want her to go, but assumed it was a tough fight and she wanted to rest.

—B—

  Much later that same night, Buffy was trekking through a cluster of forest. It was silent, as if to give her plenty of time with her chaotic thoughts, however, Buffy refused to think. The more she thought, the more she hurt from her past with Angel, her present with Angelus, and everything else straining her heart to shreds. She had no fear walking through the small patch of forest, but upon arriving at the rear side of an apartment complex shrouded in trees, she felt her stomach sink with self-loathing and morbid excitement.

  Trying to remain calm, Buffy opened the back sliding door of the apartment on the first floor. Upon entering the dark room, her eyes adjusted perfectly with the moonlight shining in from the outside. She sensed a figure in the corner and wasn’t surprised when the aggravatingly English voice asked her, “Well?”

  The blond vampire didn’t switch the lights on as he prowled toward her. Buffy always hated his cocksure swagger as she answered, “I just need a little more time. I barely brought you up once.”

  Scoffing in frustration, an irate Spike snidely pointed out, “Immortality might be part of the gig, sweetheart, but I’m not exactly keen on waiting an eternity.”

  As he stalked her, Buffy felt the anger she wanted rising in her stomach before snidely retorting, “Maybe you wouldn’t be if you weren’t such an asshole. Don’t forget, Spike, I’m the only one helping you.”

  Leaning in far too close, the scent of his musk and cigarettes overwhelmed her nose as he challenged her by asking, “Are you? What’s so bloody hard about telling your mate, ‘good ol Spike, the vamp that did your parents in, wants to make amends?’ That so hard?”

  He irked her to no end. Spike aggravated her, and Buffy cherished how simple it was to hate him. The biting words easily slipped from a side of herself she didn’t even know she had. She leaned in as well, and relished replying, “Just because you have a soul now, doesn’t erase all the horrible things you did, Spike. He hates you. And so do I.”

  As if her vitriol fell on deaf ears, he didn’t even look hurt, only making her angrier as he replied, “Him I get.” Spike walked closely around Buffy, letting his shoulder just graze hers as his sharp eyes and tongue easily saw through her. “You, not so much. All this time, hold up by my lonesome. I gotta ask myself, why are you helping me- Excuse me. Meant to say, why are you failing miserably at trying to help me?”

  At the repressed memory trying to break free of her weakening control, the heated slayer spun to face him with clenched fists and warned him, “Don’t make me regret letting you live that night.”

  She hated the knowing smirk on his angular face before he suavely reminded her of her shame. “As I recall, you more than let me live; what with you kissing me.”

  “Don’t get it twisted!” She instantly yelled. “You kissed me!”

  “You let me,” he snidely returned, leaning into her personal space. “That’s as good as, sweetheart.”

  Looking up into his pale, death-like blue eyes, she hated the inexplicable pull they seem to have on her. Buffy felt like she could rant for hours about how much she hated Spike and everything about him. She knew of the horrors he had caused before he got his soul back; the deaths, misery, and chaos left in his wake. However, she could also see more. The dangerous asshole loved Drusilla as much as Buffy loved Angel, and now they were without their loves. Despite how much she hated him, Buffy recognized the anger in Spike, which is why they fought that night.

  Buffy tried to forget that night. After what happened to Giles, she just wanted to be alone in her self-loathing misery. Then Spike showed up. She couldn’t help the way his words slipped through her defenses and went right at the heart of her depressing year. She blamed herself for everything that happened, but Spike offered a different hell to explain what happened.

  ‘Love is blood,’ she recalled him preaching. ‘It’s why you die without them. It’s why you’ll either kill him and die with him, or join him and hate loving him. Because you can’t live without it.’

  More than anyone she knew, what Spike said made the most sense to her, and Buffy didn’t want to hear that from him. The Slayer didn’t want any sort of profound revelation from Spike. She didn’t want him, of all people, to understand her more than people who actually care about her, but her body responded despite her desperate protest. She could feel the fear that Spike might be right creep up on her, like a cold chill up her spine.

  When the arrogant Brit wouldn’t stop talking, Buffy’s iron fist found his chin before she could stop herself, but Spike could take it. When he punched her back, Buffy felt more alive than she had in months. Unlike anyone else, Spike could take all of Buffy’s supernatural abuse, surprising her by how much she needed to let out all the melancholy she’d been holding in. Every measure of sorrow she had been holding back for an entire year—ever since her relationship with Angel imploded—was let out through her bloody fists. Only, at some point, lost in the fog of fury, the pair fighting in an abandoned building ended their violent clash with violent kissing… violent grinding…

  …And the frustrated slayer didn’t hate it.

  Visibly shaking her blonde head of the repulsive mistake, Buffy shoved Spike back with a double palm to the chest before yelling loudly, “The absolute only reason I’m helping you is because I want Angel back!”

  “Sad that, seeing as he’s with my Dru,” he shot back, and she could see the pain in his dead-blue eyes. “Get Red to turn him back into Angel, then you can have your sodding brood back. In the meantime, just get your little pissant doormat in here so I can… so I can… so I can stop thinking about his bloody parents!”

  The way he gripped his face and momentarily looked anguished amused Buffy, and she wanted more of that. She happily walked up to him and clearly told him, “No.”

  Spike didn’t care for her response. He never did, Buffy noticed, but it only added to the fire. This would be the fourth time they met in secret, and the slayer knew exactly how it’ll go, because a part of her was longing for the release. Rather than feel lost, depressed, and sad, she could hit Spike—someone who wouldn’t break—and be hit back. Her body longed to replace the hurt inside for chaos, fire, and a sense of freedom no one else in her life could provide, but as a good girl, friend, and daughter, she knew she had to hate it.

  Spike closed the space between them to a few inches, towering over Buffy as he ordered, “Take off your clothes.”

  Buffy didn’t push him away, but she tightened her fist in undeniable anticipation. She allowed him to press onto her chest as she defiantly glared at him and retorted, “No.”

  His hands gripped her hips painfully hard as he pressed her pelvis into his, and demanded of her, “Help me.”

  Again, she angrily answered, “No,” hating his touch like salt in an open wound, but allowing the sensation nevertheless.

  Spike grabbed Buffy by her shoulders and shoved her into the wall, nearly breaking through the drywall. The supernatural girl fought back, hitting him square in the face. He returned a hard strike of his own, and she didn’t even attempt to dodge it. This chaos between them had nothing to do with self-preservation, and everything to do with beating the misery out of each other. For several violent minutes, the blonds fought in the dark room until they were less civilized creatures and more animals acting on instinct, making out on the cold floor violently. It was the pain of being hit, and the pleasure of dominating release that they wanted from each other. And they got it.

—X—

  It was Saturday morning when Xander got a call from Buffy. He was in his garage, wondering if he should figure out how to fix his dad’s neglected car so he could begin using it instead of walking everywhere. With reliable transportation, he could’ve gotten to Buffy and Faith’s fight against Kakistos much faster and ensured neither of them got hurt. Xander wasn’t sure if Faith’s death would reset the time braid, nor did he want to find out. When he heard the phone, he rushed to the kitchen and heard the most amazing news.

  News too good for him to understand, and the stunned boy had to ask, “Come again?”

  “I said I’ll go to Pink’s with you,” Buffy repeated.

  “Really?!” he yelled, unsure if he needed to sit down or jump up in joy.

  “Yes, but-”

  “But?” he interrupted. “There’s a but? Is it a bad but? I don’t like bad buts-”

  “Xander.”

  “Right. Sorry.”

  After a moment, her soft voice told him, “I’ll go with you, but I’m still not sure… about us.”

  Xander nodded, feeling a little more centered from his emotional outburst. Understanding her hesitation, he asked, “But you’re willing to try?”

  “…Yeah,” she eventually voiced, then reasoned, “We’ve hung out loads of times.”

  “Especially now that Willow and Oz are…”

  “Yeah,” Buffy agreed, with a hint of melancholy. “They are.”

  “Okay, tonight then.”

  Xander hung up and was dancing in the kitchen with joy, while Buffy only felt a large spectrum of abysmal feelings to sort through.