Xander had come home from work at the construction site at the usual time. He had walked in and had a shower, changed his clothes and eaten a hearty meal, as his stomach had demanded after a hard day's work. Strangely, and rather unusually for the young man, he had been on edge since arriving home.
Usually the apartment he shared with Anya was his safe haven, away from the pressures of work and the demands of Slaying. Being supporto-guy was really difficult when your own worries and inadequacies were dragging you down. Something felt wrong tonight, so Xander, always one to trust his emotions rather than think too hard, put his plates in the dishwasher and made a patrol of the apartment.
It wasn't until he reached the T.V room that he noticed something was wrong. His feeling had become more and more intense as he had failed to find any evidence to corroborate it. When he stepped into the front room of his house, he saw evidence of a struggle. The various pieces of furniture were lying in disarray, the wooden table he had carved for the room was smashed; pieces obviously having been use as weaponry, given the bloodstains that lay on his carpet.
The blood was dried and brown, signifying coagulation. Whatever had happened here had taken place during the day, several hours ago at least. That ruled out Vampires. Demons tended not to roam during the daylight hours either, so they were off the list of suspects too.
His roving eye fell on a small piece of green cloth, which was peeking out from beneath the sofa. He walked over and picked it up, rubbing it between his fingers to feel the texture and material. It was familiar, both the colour and the cut, as well as the material that had been used to make it. His shocked mind just couldn't connect the familiar sensations with anything that currently resided in Xander's memory.
The phone rang, shocking him out of his stupor. The tightness in his chest informed him that he had failed to breathe while his mind had been working on the evidence around him. Just before he answered the phone, he was struck with the feeling that this call would only serve to complicate the situation.
"Hello?"
"Xander?"
"You're talkin' to him."
"It's Giles. Anya failed to turn up for work today, which is most unlike her. Is she ill?"
"Actually Giles, I ha..."
It all came crashing down on him then, breaking through the blocks which had kept him from putting the individual pieces together, as if to make a picture from a jigsaw puzzle.
"Hello? Xander, are you still there? Xander?"
He realised that Giles was expecting an answer, so he spoke again.
"Call the rest of the gang. We have a problem."
"Oh? Would you care to elaborate as to exactly what this problem is?"
"Not until the gang is in place and I can go through this without repeating myself. Is that alright with you, Ripper?"
There was something cold and hard in the young mans voice then, which even Ripper pulled back from, advising that discretion was the better part of valour.
"Very well then, Xander. I shall call them When do you wish to see them?"
"Immediately."
Xander then hung up the phone and went to prepare himself for the discussion that would be happening.
"So Giles, is it some new apocalypse? A Demon you nee me to Slay?"
"No Buffy, It is neither of those things, as far as I know."
"Oh, Do you want me to catalogue your books according to year of writing? Or finish off indexing them on Computer?"
"No Willow, certainly not! Have you forgotten what happened last time you tried that?"
"Oh, right. Robby the Robot."
"Huh? Wasn't his name Malcolm, Wills?"
"Yeah, but... oh, never mind, Buffy. Xander was always better at pop culture references than me anyway."
There was a thumping of feet on the stairs as Spike walked down from the second floor of the apartment. He had a very self-satisfied look on his face. This disappeared when he saw the Scooby Gang assembled in 'his' house.
"What in the name of the Queen's wrinkly arse are you lot doing here?"
"They're here because I had Giles invite them, Gummy boy."
"Oh, great. Its Droopy. All we need now is your bint and we can get the party started."
"Well, before we get into that, I have a question for Riley."
"What can I do for you, Xander?"
"Do me a favour and identify this material for me."
Riley took the material Xander was holding out to him between his fingers and rubbed it gently, before holding it up to the light and inspecting it visually. "It appears to be a piece of the material used in the standard issue Initiative Battle Dress Uniform. Where did you find it? SOP states that no trace of Initiative presence should be left in the field. We are Black Ops after all."
"Well, now here's the thing, Riley. I found that little piece of material lying in my front room. Alongside bloodstains on my carpet and very messy signs of a close quarters battle. My sofa and chairs, as well as my coffee table were all lying n various states of disarray. Given that I don't remember engaging in a fight against a squad of highly trained black-ops commandos in the middle of my living room, I can only assume that the other occupant of my flat, namely Anya, was the target."
Riley looked confused. What would be the point of capturing Anya? The rest of the Scooby Gang looked to be in a similar state of confusion. They were also rather surprised at the tone of the conversation. Given that Xander and Riley had rarely conversed, they were doing so now with almost natural ease the type, which only comes from repeated conversations with a person.
"I can see that you don't understand why the Initiative would want to get hold of Ahn. Let me ask you a question. What does the Initiative capture demons for? Why not just kill 'em?"
"We research more effective methods of killing Hostile Sub- Terrestrials, as well as testing strength, speed, reaction times and such like. We also try and synthesise antidotes to some of the toxins that are produced by certain Demons."
"What would you say if I suggested that I knew a Demon who had once been human, and was later transformed back into a human being?"
"I don't know what I would say, but my superiors would definitely be interested in studying the genetic makeup of that person to find out if it was altered by the transformation. As well as any possible information that can be extrapolated about the genetic sequences that determine strength, speed, stamina and other parameters."
"So that humans could be genetically altered in order to gain enhancements on par with Demons? A super human army, Captain America style?"
"Pretty much, yeah. Without the ridiculously camp, obviously homosexual outfit."
Xander smiled at that one, the first one of the evening.
"Yeah, we all know how you army types feel about that issue, huh? Stick to what you know Captain Finn, I'll handle the humour."
"Tell ya what, Xan. You let me worry about the stereotypical homophobia of the United States Armed Forces, and I'll keep the wisecracks down to a minimum."
They both laughed at that, lightening the mood somewhat.
Xander then sobered, becoming serious and business-like. He walked over to Giles' bookcase and looked at the middle volumes of the Halifax-Charlesworth compendium. Anya had once remarked that the creators of this particular set of books were the only ones to include an accurate synopsis of her work. He opened the fifth book and thumbed his way to the centre of the A section, where Anyanka was recorded.
"Riley allow me to introduce you to Anyanka the Vengeance Demon, patron of Scorned Women."
Riley looked over the pages that formed a brief summary of the most successful and imaginative wielder of the Wish, who had worked without equal for 1100 years. Some of this stuff was pretty nasty. As he finished, he noticed that all of the Scooby Gang were staring at Xander almost fearfully. Willow and Giles seemed to have understood where Xander was heading with this line of questioning, as both looked exceedingly worried.
"Now let me tell you about the last Wish ever granted by Anyanka, to a young Woman named Cordelia Chase, who had been scorned by her hormonal, loser boyfriend. She had caught him messing around with is female best friend when they had been kidnapped by the Magnificent Poof, William the Bloody."
"Hey!"
"Isn't that..."
"Yes Riley, that is our resident toothless wonder, Spike. Now, cast your mind back around a year ago. We Slayerettes and our Slayer were in high school..."
Giles and Willow were speechless. Buffy was both speechless and horrified. Riley was taking it all in stride, asking questions of Xander.
"Buffy was the Slayer there too?"
"Yup. She had never come to the Hellmouth."
"How did you find this out?"
"Anya told me."
"How did she know?"
"When Wish-Giles smashed Anyanka's amulet, the Wish was cancelled. Anyanka was sent back to the place where she had granted the Wish, Sunnydale High. Her source of power destroyed, the Vengeance Demon was now mortal once again. She created a new identity for herself and waited until the opportunity arose to regain her Amulet. Anyanka became Anya Jenkins."
Riley couldn't say he was surprised, but he had not been prepared to hear this either.
"Why did she decide to stick around?"
"She experienced some good old-fashioned Xander-lovin'."
Both men shared a smile at that one.
"Well, there was the small matter of a magical fold in space-time which led to hi-jinks with Vamp Willow."
He turned to look at Willow and Tara.
"Who was, in my opinion, kinda gay."
The entire Scooby Gang fell about laughing at that one. Riley and Xander stopped first, both having come to a decision.
"So we get into the Initiative and bust her out?"
"I was kinda hoping you would say that, Cap'n."
Buffy and Willow were at this point also finished laughing. The confusion they had felt during the start of this conversation had only intensified, so they decided to ask a question.
"Why are you two chatting like old friends? You barely know each other!"
Xander and Riley turned at this blurted inquisition and looked at the two smaller girls. Then both males smiled mysteriously.
"That's what you think. We couldn't possibly comment."
Giles smirked; knowing that the two younger men liked to spend time on a firing rang in LA, having joined them once or twice with his old Browning Hi-Power. He had shown the youngsters that Ripper could still cut the mustard. Riley had used a Beretta 92F, showing that he had little imagination when it came to guns.
Xander had used a gun that Giles was unfamiliar with, but it had been the equal of any other pistol in use that day. Though the young man's 'Soldier-boy' memories had been slowly lost, Giles knew that Xander had practised the most useful skills 'til they were ingrained in his memory. That included the use of Combat knives, stripping and maintaining weaponry and some Close Quarters Battle techniques. Giles had expanded upon the basic strategic and tactical knowledge in preparation for the Ascension.
The boy's increased physical fitness had been overlooked by everyone else in the group but for Giles. Perhaps the others had assumed it was the result of his job as a construction worker, what with the lifting and other manual labour. In fact, Xander had been making use of the combat drills and fitness routines lodged in his memory, since the morning after Ethan Rayne's magical shenanigans.
Riley and Xander left in order to prepare for infiltration of the Initiative base, in order to rescue Anya. There was an old Initiative uniform and Blaster that could be used by Xander, while Riley had his own uniform and paraphernalia.
There was chaos all around. Red lights were flashing, sirens were howling and Xander and Riley were stuck in the middle of it. Xander had brought a short sword along with him, an old one that Buffy had never used. Giles had shown him the basics of fighting dirty with a sword, as well as explaining the psychological effects that swords had on the mind.
'You see, people have been indoctrinated by the Television shows and Movies dealing with the subject that bullets don't kill. Therefore they have lost some of the fear that guns have engendered. All because Arnold and Sylvester get shot and keep on kicking arse. Total bollocks, of course. The sword, is an altogether more fearsome beast. With a sword it is possible to maim, cripple or even kill a person with one strike. This means that the moment a sword appears on the battlefield, all the people on that battlefield start thinking about the various effects that can be produced by a sword. When people piss about with swords in movies, the enemy always ends up losing limbs.'
It was true. As soon as Xander had drawn the blade from its sheath, the enemy had frozen. These were the best that the Initiative could find, perhaps the best that the US armed forces had to offer, and they were scared of a weapon that Xander had wielded since he was sixteen. The paralysis hadn't lasted long before ingrained reaction and training had taken over, but it had been long enough for Riley to activate and slide two stun grenades along the floor into the midst of the Initiative squad. The entire group fell within moments.
"Damn Ri, that was nice work."
"Thanks Xan. Better than whistling Yankee Doodle Dandy."
"Only cause I'm better than you at singing, Farm Boy."
The banter continued as they made their way along to the Initiative's conventional Armoury. This was where they stored the real weaponry; not those over-sized Tazers that Walsh had the teams packing. There were several racks on each wall, with a variety of different weapons. There was Ammunition for the various weapons in boxes on the other side of the room, while yet another section contained various harnesses and holsters. Various attachments for the weapons were also contained within. Xander walked over to the pistol rack and looked at the various ones on offer.
He selected an H&K SOCOM, which was chambered for .45 calibre ammunition, also picking up a thigh holster and a silencer. The holster went on his right thigh, ready for a fast draw. The Laser Aiming Module had already been attached, so he screwed in the silencer and holstered the handgun. Then he shrugged on an assault harness, placing four loaded clips for the .45 into the harness. Then he realised he hadn't loaded the pistol, so he drew the pistol, ejected the clip and loaded it to maximum capacity, 12 rounds.
Then he looked at an M4A1 assault rifle, trying to decide whether or not to take it. The Slayerette decided not to when he saw that Riley had already taken an M4A1 with an M203 40mm grenade launcher attached, with a bandolier that carried 12 more grenade rounds around his torso. Extra clips of 5.56mm were affixed to a belt around Finn's hips.
Xander made his way to the other end of the Assault Rifle section and grabbed a FAMAS G2 instead. He loaded it up with 5.56 Nato rounds, 30 in the magazine and another 4 clips into the front of his harness. He placed a combat knife in his boot at the ankle and was ready to go. The FAMAS was held in his right hand, attached to the harness by a black strap. If he dropped it in battle or ran out of ammunition or let go in order to grab a different weapon, it would hang at his side. Xander's short sword was at its customary place on his back.
All this had taken no more than two minutes, so Xander and Riley moved out with all due haste to the Laboratory facility. Not once on the way there did they encounter any resistance. When they arrived in the Lab, they were greeted by Anya's corpse. She lay out on a flat, sterile bier, like an Egyptian princess awaiting embalming.
Xander walked forward in shock, unable to wrap his mind around the fact that Anya was dead. She couldn't be dead. Not Anya, who had lived for over a millennium, wielding the Wish with finesse and skill above any other, save D'Hoffryn. Not Anya, who had had the good sense to run for the hills as soon as the word Ascension, was mentioned. How could she be dead, when of all the Scooby Gang, she was the only one who still needed to be taught how to live? How could she be dead, when only the previous night she had demanded that he pleasure her? When only this morning he had set out to work after sating her almost inhuman libido?
Riley could spare no attention to help his friend deal with the grief that was overwhelming him. The military man's attention was focussed on the room, scouring every corner for possible ambushes. That was when he heard it, a quiet whirring sound that tickled his senses. One of the walls divided, swinging inward, as a hulking monster of a man walked through. The tall, wide, imposing figure walked forward, every step echoing in the small room. It was a horrific blend of man, machine and Demon, beyond even Mary Shelley's worst nightmare.
"Greetings gentlemen, I am ADAM. I have been sent to stop you from removing the specimen before Professor Walsh has finished examining it."
Riley noticed that Xander had stiffened just then. Obviously the monster's words had pierced through the wall of grief that had been built up. When Xander spoke next, it was with a tone of voice that Riley had never heard before. Angel would have recognised, had he been present. Riley stepped back in surprise at the utter lack of emotion in his friend's voice.
"Her name is Anya."
The disk drive in ADAM's chest whirred as it accessed the data files on the subject.
"She is entered in my memory banks as specimen A.D. 01, ID no.238619."
"Her name is Anya. I am going to give you one more chance to address her properly before I rip your head off and shit down your throat."
"I can not address her via any other title than the one I have been programmed with."
Xander looked up from his position beside Anya's corpse, his eyes cold and unfeeling.
"Then say hello to my little friend."
Xander leaped backward in a flip that had him spinning head over feet, before landing with both legs bent to absorb the shock. He rose from his crouch whilst bringing his FAMAS up to bear on ADAM, left hand balancing the back of the gun, while the right settled around the handle and trigger. The sights met over the creation's torso, and Xander let out half a breath before gently squeezing the trigger.
The muzzle flash and the sound of the bullets being propelled from the barrel of the rifle caused no more reaction in Xander than if someone had coughed. After three rounds had been fired, the finger was removed from the trigger as the stance of the Gunman was settled once more before the trigger was depressed again. During all of this, which took only seconds, ADAM began moving forward.
Riley was still standing in the stance he had taken while surveying the room. He had never seen such violence from Xander, such a cold premeditated decision to destroy anyone or anything. What was even more surprising was the fact that none of the other Scoobies had ever given a hint that Xander was even capable of such a thing. Did they not know about it? That was the only explanation Riley Finn's shocked mind could conceive of.
As ADAM moved closer, Riley swung his M4A1 up and took aim, preparing himself to depress the secondary trigger, which would activate the 40mm Grenade Launcher. At the same time, Xander realised that the 5.56mm rounds of the FAMAS were having little effect on the behemoth. He dropped out of his firing stance and let the Assault Rifle fall to his side. He spoke again in that cold, uncaring monotone.
"You were designed as the ultimate infantry weapon, immune to all weaponry that is deployed in the various theatres of war in the modern world. Well, guess the modern weaponry strategy we used against the Judge is of little use against you."
ADAM slowed his forward movement, his lips curling up in an approximation of a grin.
"Correct. Unless you kept that old Missile Launcher, there is no conventional weapon in your possession, which could destroy me."
Xander reached his hand behind his back and drew his short sword.
"How 'bout we test that little theory with my pigsticker?"
He brought the sword up into a basic en guarde stance. ADAM paused; almost looking confused at this strange development. Then he brought his Demon arm up and produced a Polgaran Bone Spike from his wrist.
"That is acceptable. I must gather both long and short range battle data in order to allow accurate analysis."
Riley removed his finger from the secondary trigger on the M4A1, deliberately staying in a suitable position for firing. If they were going to close in for Close Quarter Battle, the Grenade Launcher was useless. It would likely kill Xander at the same time as taking out ADAM.
Xander ran forward, using the fact that he was smaller than ADAM to his advantage. He ducked under a swing that would have stabbed him in the brain while slashing at the Human/Demon hybrid's leg. The blade sliced deep and green blood dripped to the floor, but ADAM seemed almost unhindered. Xander spun to the left as ADAM attempted to bring his left leg around to strike his human opponent with.
Then the scientific monstrosity brought his right arm into play with a punch aimed at Xander's ribs. The Slayerette was unable to avoid it, but instead moved into a different angle to lessen the force of the blow. Instead of breaking the entire left side of Xander's ribcage, the strike merely staggered him, as well as laying the foundations for heavy bruising over the coming days. The pain was still intense, given that the ribs are highly sensitive, but it was not enough to hinder Xander.
The human stopped moving for a second, listening to the strange feelings that had been tickling at his consciousness all evening, only to kick off of ADAM's legs and then handspring onto the Seven- foot tall monster's head. The Harris family's only child had neatly avoided a stab that would have disembowelled him.
Then he flipped forward and kicked ADAM in the back with both feet, moving the immensely powerful freak forward several steps while it was off balance after failing to connect with a stab. Xander started running forward, hoping to put a little distance between himself and the Demon/Human bastard child of science.
"Riley, now!"
Finn unconsciously responded to Xander's voice by pulling the secondary trigger on the M4A1. The Grenade Round was propelled forward by a tremendous burst of flame. ADAM was still staggering forward as the round tore through the intervening space between them. He looked up at the sound of the Grenade being fired, a surprisingly loud sound, his eyes widened comically as he recognised what was about to happen.
Xander curled into a ball and allowed the force of the explosion to propel him out of its range. He smacked painfully against the wall, which robbed him of breath in concert with the ache in his ribs. Then he slowly got up as the ache faded, allowing him to resume breathing.
"I swear I will never play pinball again, not now I know how it feels."
Then he felt it, a strange foreboding that settled upon him like a ball of ice in his stomach. His mind conjured up images of ADAM emerging from the explosion and mowing Riley and himself down in a hail of bullets. He ran to the other side of the room, where Riley was still recovering from the recoil of the M203. Xander's back was to the cloud if flame and smoke that had been ADAM until recently, but he noticed the look of shock and fear developing on Riley's face.
'I'm gonna make it. I'm gonna make it.'
There was a thump as Xander and Riley collided, both falling to the floor. Then the whirring sound of the minigun attached to ADAM's arm was audible, followed by the sound of the bullets cutting through the air that the two men had previously occupied. Xander rolled from his position atop Riley and rose into a crouched position. His blade was still held in his right hand, which led to the realisation that he was lucky not to have stabbed Finn. Riley raised a hand and gave the thumbs up to signify he was unwounded, so Xander relaxed.
ADAM ceased firing when he realised that the targets had somehow avoided all of his bullets. That should have been impossible. In order to do that, then they would have had to be moving before ADAM had begun firing, before the smoke had even cleared. That would require them to know that ADAM was alive and about to shoot before ADAM had even decided to shoot. That was dismissed out of hand by ADAM's logic circuits, given that no one currently on the Hellmouth had shown precognitive abilities.
'Though Harris, Alexander L did show extreme reaction speed. His strength, speed and stamina are within recorded parameters for a standard human soldier. Is it possible that he knew how I would attack before I did so?'
The fight he had just taken part in replayed again in his mind. Two points stood out, where the subject had paused and then begun moving to avoid an attack before ADAM had even decided to perform that particular manoeuvre. The evidence seemed to point toward Harris having advance warning of what was about to happen. There was only one way to confirm or refute this hypothesis. ADAM aimed his gun squarely at Xander's torso and began to fire.
Xander was paying no attention to ADAM. Instead he was trying to formulate a plan that would allow him to kill the monster that was proving resistant to every weapon Xander or Riley possessed. It was not his main target here after all. Xander wanted to waste as little time as possible on the creation, in order to get to the creator.
He wanted Margaret Walsh, and he meant to go through every obstacle that stood in his path. She was the head of this particular house of horrors. Anya's death fell squarely on her shoulders, the Dr. Frankenstein to ADAM's monster. Xander would make her regret ever stepping foot on the Hellmouth. The strategic ruminations were interrupted as Xander 'saw' a hail of bullets heading toward him. He threw himself left, throwing his sword forwards in order to free both hands before performing a cartwheel, then regaining his footing in order to grab the falling blade.
Then he sprinted forward, zigzagging from left to right in order to avoid ADAM taking aim on him. He had stopped thinking now, hearing only the silence of his mind as it was freed from all distractions. Only one thought could be discerned in his head, which he was repeating again and again.
'I will survive. I will survive. I will survive.'
If he died here, who would be left to make Walsh pay? She was the queen of this underground kingdom, her word was law. Riley might be able to take her out, but if ADAM won this skirmish, both humans would be dead by morning. Buffy would be unable to function if her boyfriend and best male friend were killed, even if she was able to overcome her 'Don't kill humans' rule.
Walsh would get away with her insane experimentation, her murder of Anya, her enforced chemical cocktails on all the Soldiers under her command. Unless ADAM was dismantled here and now, there would be neither justice nor vengeance for Anya, or the other victims of Walsh's pursuit of knowledge.
Xander felt that strange foreboding again, so he threw his sword forward, aiming to impale ADAM, then he leapt up in the air, as high as his ordinary human muscles would take him.
A line of bullets sliced the place he had been standing in only seconds before, showing he had been right to take evasive action. All of the bullets had been deliberately aimed at Xander, ignoring Riley entirely. There was a bellow of pain from below, signalling that the short sword had struck its target. Xander landed only paces away from ADAM's position, so the giant lunged forward and attempted to stab Xander with the bone spike.
Xander danced around the edge of the spike, coming under ADAM's outstretched arm and drawing his SOCOM from its thigh holster. His left hand reached up and twisted the blade of his short sword, pushing forward to drive it in deeper. Simultaneously Xander's .45 came up to ADAM's face, the LAM leaving a red dot just below where Xander was aiming at. There was a muzzle flash and a puff of gunpowder, then the SOCOM changed direction and fired again.
ADAM screamed in pain as the .45 calibre bullets tore through his eyes, blasting out from the back of his head. Xander pulled his sword out from the monster's chest and obeyed the instinct to crouch, just as ADAM swiped ineffectually with his spike. Xander spun round to the side as ADAM covered his face with his hands, his sight ruined. Then the monster bent over, overwhelmed with the shock of being maimed by a handgun.
Xander lifted the short sword above his head in both hands and prepared to decapitate his enemy. He aimed for the base of the neck, where the Demon and Human sections met and overlapped. He waited for the perfect time to strike, breathing in and out slowly, keeping his heart rate even, just as Giles had taught him.
Decapitation was an indispensable skill when facing Demons, given how many of them could be destroyed by removing the head. Giles had forced Xander to practice for hours on this one skill, for which Xander would be profoundly grateful, once his emotions were working properly. He felt it again, that strange pull to act, deep in his being, and obeyed it. As Xander had started swinging, ADAM had begun to move, right into the arc of the decapitation strike. The grotesque head was severed from the hybrid's equally horrid body, before bouncing across the room.
Xander replaced his gun in its holster and his sword on his back, after wiping off the green ichor that had stained its surface. Riley slung his M4A1 onto his back, then nodded to Xander before they both headed for the door that ADAM had emerged from.
They walked forward into the nerve centre of the 314 project. Maggie Walsh was sitting in a large leather chair, aiming toward the door with a pistol in her hand. The two men, at whom it was being pointed at, identified it as the H&K VP70. Riley was shocked, as Professor Walsh had never, to his knowledge, even held a handgun before.
"Ma'am, what are you doing?"
"I should think that painfully obvious, Riley. I am about to shoot your little friend Mr Harris here."
"Actually, Mr Harris is my dad. I'm Xander."
Riley almost sighed with relief. Xander was finally back to normal. No more eye of the storm, preternatural calmness here, no sir.
"Please believe me when I say that I really don't care. In about two minutes I plan on your being my latest project. Hopefully your genetics will reveal exactly how you managed to anticipate and avoid every move ADAM made."
Walsh got up from her chair, revealing a bank of black and white screens showing video footage from cameras in various locations, including the room that ADAM's body was lying in. The pistol remained trained on the two men the whole time.
"Are you aware that you were acting to counter all of the actions ADAM took before he took them?"
She pressed a button on one of the consoles, which led to a large projection screen opening up from one of the walls, which then replayed the battle between ADAM and the founder of the Scooby Gang. Riley and Xander saw it all. For Riley it merely reinforced what he had already noticed, but for Xander it was a revelation.
'I was reacting to things that hadn't even happened yet. That's impossible.'
"My hypothesis is that the background energy of the Hellmouth affected you at a genetic level, given your constant exposure to it while in utero and during your formative years."
She took aim, about to fire. Xander merely raised his hands, smiling slightly.
"Whoa, wait just a minute. Don't I get a last request?"
"No."
"Ma'am, won't you at least tell us what interest you had in Anya?"
"Hm. An interesting question. With such an inquiring mind, you were perhaps wasted in the armed forces. You could have been an excellent scientist."
"Not according to your parameters. I have ethics."
"Ethics are a crutch used by inferior scientists to justify stupidity. Regardless, I had hoped to find traces of the changes that Anyanka had undergone, in order to reverse engineer a human with Demon-like strengths."
"Good luck, Queen Bitch. Those changes were performed by Magic, at the hands one of he most powerful Demons in Hell. Genetics doesn't factor into it."
"Mr Harris, I would advise you to remain silent before I pull the trigger on this gun in order to rid myself of your blabbering. The subject was terminated precisely because she was of no use to my research. It is probably in your best interests to keep me in a good mood."
Xander stiffened again there. Riley covered his face with his hands and groaned.
'Oh. Shit. Maggie just pushed the wrong buttons. Here comes Psycho- Xan.'
"You killed Anya because she was of no use to you? You Nazi bitch. I'm going send you to that little section of hell earmarked for humans that make Demons look like pussy-cats. Say hi to Adolf and Josef when you get there, will you?"
Walsh realised that she had gone too far, and that Xander was totally unafraid of her, despite the fact that she was holding the gun. She began to squeeze the trigger of her pistol, aiming it at Xander's heart. The gun fired once, and she allowed the recoil to end before moving smoothly back into a firing position. She fired again, then again and again.
Xander had closed his eyes, trying to find the mysterious sense, which had alerted him to danger. He pivoted on his left foot, the first bullet whizzing past him, the air displacement caused by the speed of the projectile blowing against him. He backflipped to avoid the second one, then leapt upwards to avoid the third bullet.
By this time Riley had drawn his Beretta, which was closer to hand than his Assault Rifle. He gave the trigger a delicate squeeze, absorbing the recoil with his tall, heavy frame. The 92F bucked slightly in his grip, so he centred it again on Maggie's head.
As Maggie heard the blast of another handgun, she realised she had given all her attention to Harris, assuming Riley wouldn't dare draw on his superior.
"Finn, just what do you think you're doing?"
"I'm upholding the oath I swore to protect America and it's people from enemies foreign and domestic, ma'am. Given your experimentation on members of the US Military and the civilian Anya Jenkins, I believe you are a threat to the ideals that I have always tried to uphold. Semper Fidelis."
Xander had landed from his jump and remained crouching. His pistol was now in his hand; the laser pointer aimed at Maggie's heart. One more pull of the trigger and it would all be over for Frau Frankenstein here. Riley's comment had stirred his curiosity
"You were a Marine, Farm Boy?"
"Only two things to do in Iowa. Farm or Fight. I went to Iowa State University, Graduated top of the class on a Scholarship. From there I went into the Marines, and was recruited to the Initiative. The Marines motto is Semper Fidelis. It's Latin for Always Faithful."
"Hmm. I prefer the British Special Air Service motto. Who Dares Wins."
"Xander, you live by those words. That's why you throw yourself at Vampires' on patrol. You dare, so you succeed. Buffy has told me about the amount of times you've pulled her chestnuts out of the fire over the years."
"That's nice. The Buffster doesn't know half of what I've gotten up to over the years, though. Anyway, we're getting ahead of ourselves. Who gets to shoot the Wicked Witch?"
"Well, I know two ladies who would probably be offended by that remark, but I think you should have first refusal."
"Okay."
Xander raised his aim and centred the Laser Aiming Module just below Walsh's forehead. She flinched, ruining his aim, so he dropped the sights down to her sternum. One squeeze of the trigger and it was all over. Xander walked over to the corpse picked up the dead woman's VP70 and offered it to Riley. The former Marine shook his head, so Xander tucked the weapon into his trousers at the small of his back.
Riley and Xander fetched a bodybag for Anya, neither of then content to allow her to remain in the Initiative building. They carried her body out of Lowell House and over to one of the many 24-hour funeral homes in Sunnydale. The mortician came over to check that everything was in order, and they arranged to have Anya buried at Restfield Cemetery. This was done with all due haste and a surprising lack of questions. Well, perhaps not so surprising when one considers the mortality rate of Sunnydale.
Xander picked a headstone, leaving the date unwritten. He simply had inscribed 'Anya Jenkins. There best there was at what she did.' Then he and Riley returned to Giles' apartment to let the rest of the Slayerettes know.
Only an hour and 30 minutes had passed since they had last been here. The two weary men passed on the news and informed the rest of the Gang that Anya was dead. When they started crying, Xander turned and walked out. Riley was left to explain that the funeral had been arranged for the following morning.
They stood outside of Xander's flat, a week later. Willow and Buffy had come to see him, to try and break through his emotionless façade. He hadn't even cried at her funeral for goodness' sake!
They had knocked on the door, receiving a shouted 'Door's Open' from the only inhabitant of the apartment. They walked in to find Xander sitting in front of an array of mechanical bits and bobs, cleaning them with a rag and some machine oil.
"Xander, are those guns?"
"Yup."
"Where did you get them from?"
"Riley and I lifted some weaponry from the Initiative armoury."
Willow was shocked.
"You STOLE them?"
"Yup."
"Alexander Lavelle Harris, how could you steal weaponry from the United States Government?"
"It was easy enough, actually. Not quite as nerve-wracking as the time me and Cordy stole a Rocket Launcher, and Riley wasn't quite as convincing as my girlfriend, but..."
"That was different. We needed that to kill an invincible Demon."
"Well, I needed some weapons other than the standard issue pop-gun. It turned out quite handy in taking down Frankenstein's Monster."
"That is irrelevant! You're obviously planning on keeping what you stole. That's wrong, Xander!"
He looked up for the first time since they had come in, his eyes burning with anger.
"How dare you come into my home and start lecturing me about right and wrong! The Government I stole this weaponry from was employing the psychotic bitch that experimented on and murdered my lover! The creator of a monster that was strong enough to put a Slayer six feet under!"
He paused for breath here, his eyes keeping the attention of the ladies he was talking to.
"I felt the strength of that thing, and I can assure you that Buffy, Kendra and Faith put together might have been able to overpower it, but nothing else would have put a scratch on it. Riley attempted to shoot it with a 40mm grenade round, which was shrugged off! No Slayer would have survived that. So kindly stop lecturing me about the wrongs of stealing from a murderous whore and her subordinates."
Then Xander pulled out a letter that had been sitting by his side during the conversation.
"In addition, the Government has sent letters to both myself and Riley apologising for the entire incident, and thanking us for intervening. They also offer condolences for my loss and awarded me compensation to the tune of 2 million Dollars U.S. Any of the equipment, which I availed myself of, is mine to keep. They thank me also for my efforts in keeping the Hellmouth closed and avoiding the End of the World during my difficult High School years. Which is more than you two ever did."
"Ok. We deserved that. But we didn't come here to lecture you, Xan. We want you to start grieving for Anya. This bottling things up inside will only hurt you."
"Thanks for the concern, Buff, but my grief is my own to deal with. I plan on taking a holiday and dealing with my loss that way. Maybe swing on over to LA and visit Cordy and Faith, take the piss outta Deadboy. Generally have a good time. If that's all we have to discuss, I believe Riley and Tara have arranged something of a Double Date for you, so you'd better go and get ready."
"How did you know about that?"
"Instead of coming round here for an intervention, Riley and Tara took me out to the Espresso pump and we sat and had a coffee while chatting. They discussed their plans for this evening and asked my opinion. I gave one or two pointers here and there, which you will undoubtedly enjoy. The rest was all their work."
Both girls gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek before leaving. Xander shook his head, grinning at the foolishness of his girls before going back to work on his weaponry.
There had been a tearful goodbye the next day, as the Summers women had seen Xander off. Tara and Willow had also come to say goodbye. Riley handed Xander a 24-hour emergency number, while Giles took the opportunity to bid farewell to his 'son' with a manly hug and a pat on the back. Xander had swiped at his eyes, claiming that he had gotten an eyelash stuck, but no one really believed him.
Then he had driven out of town, safe in the knowledge that his adopted family woud be safe over the coming summer months. Los Angeles beckoned, and Xander could not refuse its siren call.
OK, you may be wondering what the deal is with Xander. Well, I envisioned his fightning style as a cross between Heeri Yuy's emotionless 'compete the mission at all costs' style, as well as Trowa Barton's acrobatic style. Then I tossed in some Newtype-style precognitionavoidanceearly warning system abilities.
He is still a normal human with no powers, according to the rules in Buffy, where power is only defined by how much stronger and faster you are than a normal human.
I have never seen any of the Gundam series, apart from Gundam Wing and Endless Waltz. (Not by choice, but because noothers ave been screened in the UK.) I've played some of the related computer games, though, as well as reading the plot synopsis at MAHQ, so I have a basic idea of what happens in the Universal Century. As far as I can tell, Newtypes are not psychics, so don't expect spoon bending or levitation or that sort of thing.
Any explanation or expansion on the typical Newtype powers, as well as what is a reasonable power level/limitation for these skills (Char and Amuro being the top of the food chain) by Gundam fans is welcome, as it will give me a better idea of how far I can take Xander, as well as allowing me to see if my planned explanation will be possible.
Blame Drusilla for that little section. One of her lines about the stars talking to her (was that fanon or canon?) kinda inspired the idea.
Xander was on the road. He had both the Music of Pain and the Blues, alternately, blaring at loud volumes as he drove along the Highway to Los Angeles. Currently he was listening to 'Water of Love' by Dire Straits. It still amazed the young man that music that was older than he was could so accurately paint the picture of his life. He sang along, feeling the pain in his heart being soothed as he did so.
"Once I had a woman I could call my own.
Once I had a woman, now my woman is gone.
Once there was a river, now there's a stone.
You know it's evil when you're living alone."
Later, as he pulled away from a gas station, he started playing Eric Clapton. This was a new CD that he wasn't too familiar with, but as long as it stayed away from the 80s Clapton, it should be fine. After the CD had been on a couple of times, Xander had familiarised himself enough to sing along with 'Have you Heard', which seemed appropriate.
"Have you heard about my baby?
Yes, how I love her, you don't know.
I declare, hurt me so bad.
Yes, when I heard, she'd got to go.
Have you heard about my baby?
Yes I tried, yes I tried but I let her down."
That pretty much summed up his feelings over Anya's death. So he drove on, feeling some of the emotions he had been suppressing start to lift, and some of his grief lessen. That was definitely a good thing.
Meanwhile, Cordelia Chase was on the other end of the telephone from a rather agitated Willow Rosenberg. Apparently Xander was coming to Los Angeles. There was however a problem with this. Willow and Buffy were worried about his mental state. He had recently lost his girlfriend, said Willow, and he had bottled up his grief and pain.
What struck Cordelia was that Willow and, by proxy, Buffy were surprised at this. Hadn't they realised that Xander had always bottled up his negative emotions? Then Cordelia remembered whom she was talking about. Of course they hadn't noticed, they had been too busy with themselves.
Just like the time that Cordelia had revealed that Xander's parents were so drunk around Christmas that he had slept outside in a sleeping bag. Buffy had been fantasising about having Angel's babies or whatever. Willow had been pretending that Xander Harris didn't exist. That had really angered the former Queen of Sunnydale High. Not only had Willow kissed Xander, she had then dropped him as if he were worthless.
At the beginning of the year, they had kept in contact, passing news on Hellmouthy happenings back and forth. Angel's receptionist had been more than a little surprised to hear Willow on the phone. It hadn't lasted. As soon as Willow had found something better to do, the Angel Investigations team had been dropped like a hot potato.
'Figures that she gets back on the phone as soon as they want something from us!'
Cordelia shook her head, trying to get back to the purpose of the phone call. Xander was in LA, Xander was probably mentally and emotionally unstable due to grief, and could Cordelia keep an eye on him. Further, he would probably attempt to kill some Demons and would Angel keep him out of Slayage until he had regained stability.
Cordelia had barely been able to restrain herself from screaming down the phone at Willow to ask if she had finally lost her sanity after one too many Wiccan 'herbal remedies'. Having Xander and Angel in the same room unchaperoned was like mixing gasoline and matches. Violent reactions usually ensued. Suggesting that Angel restrain Xander from patrolling was the most foolish thing that the young woman had heard in all her 20 years. Worse than even 'the humus offensive'.
When Buffy and Willow had suggested that he remain 'fray-adjacent' he had gone out and kicked ass by himself. Though she had called him the Zeppo, Donut-boy and the rest, she was proven wrong the self-same night. Her and Xander had been finished, but she hadn't wanted him dead. If he were, she would be unable to continue verbally emasculating him. At least, this was how she had justified it to herself. Looking back at her motivations now, with a year of growth and maturity behind her, she could admit that she had still cared deeply for her former paramour.
Angel had found out the truth about Jack O'Toole that same week, when he had gone to Willy's Bar. He had only let Cordelia know about it after they had began working together, when she had revealed to the ensouled Vampire that Xander had paid for her prom dress. Angel had been unsurprised, revealing what he knew of Xander. That included the times he had run up against the young man during the Angelus crisis. Cordelia had been shocked at the hidden depths that Xander had concealed from all of the gang, even her.
She had always known that there was more going on beneath the surface with the Harris boy. Even from her, he had kept his true depths hidden. Cordelia had noticed, because she had played the airhead in the same way as he played the jester. When Xander had spoken of a connection with Faith, the rest of the gang had assumed that he was talking about his time as her 'boytoy'.
Cordelia knew the truth, because Xander and her had shared their own special connection. Faith hid her self-hatred and insecurity behind the façade of an experienced, foxy bitch. It was a shame that her distrust of the male of the species had been real and not acted, or Xander would have succeeded in helping the Slayer.
Of course, these were realisations that had come from spending time with Faith in the Prison visiting room. Xander had pieced it all together in the weeks that he had known her. The normal one of the group had seen past all the bravado and pretension to the truth of the matter in a handful of weeks. Wilkins had done the same, seeing the truth behind Faith and appealing to it with paternal love.
Given that he had more than a century dealing with demons and manipulating humans under his belt, his successful recruitment of Faith was hardly surprising. What was surprising was how close Xander had come to bringing Faith back. With only 18 years when compared to Wilkins' 140, it was extremely impressive.
The Seer for Angel Investigations resolved then and there to do everything in her power to help Xander get back to normal. It was time someone did for him, what he had always been willing to do for others. She went to disturb Angel from his daily brooding. Either he would agree to help, or she would make Hell look like a vacation.
Xander pulled into Los Angeles. The Clapton CD had finished and he had replaced it with another. 'Crossroads' was currently playing, which suited his mood. He was currently at a crossroads in his life. Choices and directions branched off from this one point in time, and he knew that he would need guidance in order to make the best choice.
"I went down to the crossroads.
Fell down on my knees.
Asked the Lord above for mercy.
Help me if you please."
This was not the first time he had been faced with a choice like this. The first time he could remember having to make a choice was the night of The Harvest. After Jesse had died, he had the opportunity to fight the things he now knew existed, or he could pretend it had never happened. Deny all, continuing on in ignorance. Needless to say, he had chosen to fight.
The next had been the night when Acathla had been looming large, threatening to suck the world into Hell. He had the choice to pass on Willow's message, or lie to Buffy. Buffy had had a difficult job to do, so he had tried to make things easier by removing the only protection Angelus had. The fact that while he lived, Angel could be brought back. Apart from that, he was just another bloodsucker.
Buffy could have taken him out at any time, during any one of their confrontations, if only he hadn't looked like her lover.
Now that Anya was dead and he had put some distance between himself and the mouth of hell, he could consider what he would do after he had recovered from his loss. His financial situation was a welcome benefit. Some would assume that the Government was bribing him, or that they were buying his silence. It was far simpler than that. They were simply thanking him for cleaning up their mess.
If he had been offered money from the Government and refused while Anya was still alive, she would have meted out a punishment worse than death. He would have been betraying the very foundations of her character and ideology if he had turned down the money offered after her death.
"She probably would have gotten the patron demon of scorned currency to come after me!"
He laughed at that one, relying on his bad jokes to stave off the tears as he always had. He was about to find a motel and turn in for the night, when inspiration struck.
"What was the name of that bar that Anya frequented back in the day. Umm...Charity. No, that's not it. Connery...No, that's wrong too. Caritas! That's it. The host over there apparently has a really neat party trick."
He drove his car past the motel that he had been driving toward, before changing lanes and heading into the centre of the city. He parked the car across from an empty parking lot that, according to his information, was a rather powerful illusion. There was a slow, steady traffic of assorted shapes and sizes, all hidden under robes, or the timeless tan trenchcoat and Fedora.
He left his guns and his sword in the trunk of his car. He strapped his thigh harness onto his leg to show that he was not someone to mess with outside of the bar, while also implying that he came in peace, without weaponry.
He strode into the parking lot confidently, safe in the knowledge that this place had some of the most powerful warding spells in the world protecting it. Anyanka had been impressed, which was no small accomplishment.
All talk ceased when the lone human walked into the bar. Every single eye turned to stare at him. Such attention usually made Xander nervous, which then meant he would tell a joke or make a comment to relieve the tension or deflect attention away from him.
Several Vampires were sitting up at the bar with pints of Blood. A Bracken Demon was up on stage, murdering 'Wuthering Heights' by Kate Bush. A green skinned demon wearing an ugly yellow suit was wincing in pain every second word; while the rest of the patrons slowly lost interest in Xander and turned to the more amusing side show on stage.
Xander approached the bar and ordered a bottle of something of other. Beer of some description. As long as it wasn't blood, he was satisfied. He was unsure of exactly how to proceed with a 'reading'. He sat and drank most of the bottle, before deciding to ask the bartender.
"Excuse me, where do I sign up for the karaoke?"
A green hand clamped down on his shoulder, the owner coming into view a second later.
"You talk to me, sweetcheeks."
"I have a name, which I find far nicer than 'sweetcheeks'. I'm Xander."
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Lorne."
"Lorne Green?"
"Oh my, a sci-fi nut. I haven't heard that one in a long time. This round's on me."
"Thanks, but please believe me when I say that money is so not an issue."
"So, you want to sing, huh?"
"Yeah. I'm told that you are the guy to come to for guidance."
"Oh? Just who has been talking about me?"
"Anyanka."
"Oh, Annie? She hasn't been in here for, ooh, at least a year. She does a pretty mean Dido."
"Really? She never told me that."
"What, you trying to tell me that Annie actually settled down?"
"Kinda. Look, can I just get the singin' part over with? It's hardly my forte."
"What do you want to sing?"
Xander thought about that one. There was only one song he knew that really applied here, though he only knew it vaguely. Maybe having to live with Spike hadn't been such a waste. He told Lorne his choice. Lorne nodded, agreeing with the sentiment of the song.
"Tell Bob, the karaoke operator. He knows that one."
Lorne settled down to listen to Xander's singing, while Xander went to get ready. Bob nodded, a big grin on his face. Xander stepped up onto the stage, already beginning to sweat under the heavy lighting. The song began, Xander counted down as the intro played, taking a deep breath before beginning.
"Darling you've got to let me know.
Should I stay or should I go?
If you say that you are mine,
I'll be here 'til the end of time.
Come on and let me know.
Should I stay or should I go?"
One half of the crowd cheered, while the other groaned. Xander simply smiled and continued singing, relaxed enough by the beer to sing in public.
Lorne was ... confused. What he was experiencing had never happened before. Xander's future lay before him, as usual. However, the young man's future was only fixed up to a certain point. After that, it ebbed and flowed like the tide, changing from one moment to the next.
What Lorne did know was that Xander was due to meet with two others at a warehouse in downtown LA, after clearing out the nest of Vampires that currently inhabited said warehouse. Xander sat next to him, unnoticed as Lorne tried to make sense of the images in his head.
"Your next port of call should be the LA warehouse district. Number 34. Half an hour. You better move Xander, a group of Vamps are currently preparing to go out and hunt."
Lorne watched as the young man's face set like stone, his eyes becoming cold and lethal. The wanderer from Sunnydale nodded once in thanks before turning and walking out of Caritas. Lorne watched him go, still shocked at the myriad of futures that opened out I front of the boy.
"Be safe, kid. Even I don't know what awaits you."
"We will be helping Xander, Angel or so help me I will ...ohhh!"
Cordy collapsed, falling to the floor. Angel leapt forward, catching her before she struck the ground. His former secretary and his new link to the Powers That Be continued to hold her head and writhe for several long, unbearable minutes before her eyes snapped open and her gaze fell upon him.
"Warehouses...Xander was fighting a nest of Vampires. There was a number painted on the wall, 34."
"OK. I'll be back with him as soon as possible."
"You'll be back? You say that as if I'm staying here."
"You are."
"Oh, no, no, no, no way mister. If Xander and you get within fifty yards of one another without a female on hand to referee, one of you will probably end up dead. I was his girlfriend when you were all GRR! I know better than anyone how he feels about you. You show up without Buffy to hold him back and he'll stake you in a heartbeat. If I show up he won't move against you, the worst he'll do is call you Captain Hairgel. Face it, you need me."
Angel thought about it for a moment before deciding that she was correct. He and Harris had never gotten on. Given the incident at Sunnydale General a couple of years back, Angel had no trouble believing that, one-on-one, Xander would find a way to kill him. Even if Xander had to die to get it done.
"Then lets go. Is Wesley still looking for those books in San Francisco?"
"Yeah, he won't be available until at least the weekend."
"Right. Lets mosey."
Xander pulled up in front of Warehouse 34 and jumped out, jogging round to the back of his car and opening the boot. He grabbed the harness and shrugged into it. Then he almost grabbed the FAMAS, before deciding that unsilenced gun fire in LA would call unwanted attention on him.
His SOCOM was then slipped into the thigh holster. After this he placed several stakes into the remaining spaces on his harness. His short sword was placed on his back, before he covered the whole ensemble with a very loud Hawaiian shirt.
Then he walked up to the door of the warehouse and knocked on it twice. When the Vamp inside opened the door, Xander plastered a vapid smile on his face.
"Hey there. Is this number 24? Big Bill's party is still on, right?"
The Vamp, showing above average intelligence, immediately saw how to use this opportunity to his benefit.
"Yeah, we're just waiting for the man himself. Come on in, pal."
"Oh, thanks very much."
Xander stepped into the dark embrace of the warehouse. Had he been a normal guy, he would have felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, as well as a cold ball of ice form in the pit of his stomach. The place just felt wrong. Xander merely looked around him, cataloguing how many vampires and where they were located, before moving into action.
His friend at his side was the first to dust, courtesy of a smooth backhand stab, which left him with a stake in the heart. Xander reversed his motion, removing the stake before it could dust along with the vampire.
The rest of the Vampires were standing watching him. They were obviously too shocked to move. He drew his SOCOM and dropped the nearest Vampire with a headshot. The next went down with a bullet in each kneecap. The third he shot in the torso, one bullet severing the spinal column. By this time the Vamps had begun to rouse themselves, so he holstered the SOCOM and drew his short sword.
As the first two reached him, he felt that strange urging deep within him, so he obeyed it. He sidestepped to the left and held his sword at his side. The first Vampire leapt and attempted to bring Xander down with a tackle that would have been at home in the NFL. Xander's repositioning had placed his blade at neck level with the approaching Vampire.
It was over in seconds, thanks to the unnatural strength of the Vampire as well as a little help from the laws of physics. Xander barely had time to think before the next opponent was in range. The boy saw a series of strikes that were about to be performed and began to react to them.
The vampire led with a right hand jab, which Xander moved away from before allowing it to hit him. The Vampire then moved into a left hook, which Xander sidestepped. Then the demonic corpse brought up his knee, aiming for Xander's ribs. When the human he was fighting avoided that, the Vampire spun once and performed a roundhouse kick.
Xander ducked under the strike and swept the Vampire to the ground, before rising stamping on its face. After kicking it between the legs for good measure, he then drew a stake and plunged it into the Vampire's unbeating heart.
Then Xander rose, tightening his grip on the stake, preparing to finish off the wounded Vampires. When he heard the familiar whoosh of a dusting Vampire, he spun, one hand going automatically to the hilt of his pistol. His eyes picked out two familiar forms, one a tall male and the other a statuesque woman, both rising from the floor with an ease that spoke of long practice. The piles of dust at their feet showed exactly what they had been doing.
"Angel? Cordy?"
"Harris."
"Xander! How...What...How?"
"I think what she's trying to say is how did you take down an entire nest of Vampires by yourself?"
Xander drew his pistol and sword, holding them out in a non- threatening position.
"I didn't exactly do it the old-fashioned way."
The founding members of Angel Investigations nodded, understanding what he was getting at. Angel looked dubious, having observed Xander's fighting with a practiced eye. The boy hadn't been this good a fighter when Angel had lived in Sunnydale.
Cordy waited until Xander had put away his weapons before going up to him and wrapping him in a hug that would have made a boa constrictor wince in sympathy. Xander merely smiled and hugged her back, enjoying the feel of Cordy pressed up against him. He had really missed this since they had broken up. He gently stroked her back, wondering if he had finally been forgiven for the fluke. Then he tensed, remembering Anya. It was so wrong of him to be hugging Cordy, especially since he was enjoying himself so much. He released her and gave her a smile.
Cordelia Chase was nobody's fool. She had him felt tense up and was perfectly aware of why he had done so.
"You can cut out the guilt right now Xander. There is nothing wrong with two friends giving each other a hug after not seeing each other in a year. Now, let's get out of here. Vamp dust makes me sneeze."
They left the scene, Angel leading off in his pimpmobile, while Xander followed in his beaten up old Ford. As he drove, Xander reminded himself to use his money to buy a better car. They pulled up in front of a rather unattractive apartment building. Angel and Cordy got out of Angel's Plymouth, Xander got out of his own car a moment later.
Xander had no idea where they were going, so he trailed a couple of steps behind the leading pair. His eyes roamed the corridor they were walking in, missing no detail. Angel and Cordelia stopped in front of the elevator so abruptly that he almost walked right into them.
'Where's the early warning when you need it?'
They got off on the fourth floor, Cordy unlocking the door and letting them in without a word. The old Sunnydale habits were hard to shake. Cordy also called out a greeting to someone named Dennis. Then the lights flashed on and off in response.
Xander dropped into a fighting stance, glancing around warily.
"Don't worry Xan, that's my flatmate Dennis. He's a g-h-o-s-t."
"He better be of the friendly variety, like Patrick Swayze, or I'm calling the Vatican."
He loosened, standing up from his combat crouch. Cordy smiled at the joke, knowing he was covering his unease, as well as his embarrassment at the fighting instincts he had displayed.
He preferred to let people underestimate him, so they would dismiss him as a threat. Public displays of his prowess were highly uncomfortable for him. She had already thrown Angel off the track by giving some lame excuse about Vamp dust, so she decided that she would follow upon the joke.
"If my Fridge starts opening into hell, then I know who to call, thank you."
They both smiled then, the reference going way over Angel's head. The Vamp in question looked at them both with a confused expression on his face.
They put him out of his misery by getting down to business.
"OK, here's the 411. It turns out that I have reflexes and reactions that border on precognitive. That's how I beat the Vamps, besides the fact that I kneecapped the majority of them. Apart from my reaction times, there's still nothing special about me. No super- speed, no super-strength, no inhuman stamina. I have the general level of fitness of a member of the Army, thanks to soldier boy. I'm good with guns, knives and explosives. G-man taught me the basics of sword fighting. That's it. "
He left out the fact that sometimes he saw what was going to happen in a fight, due to the fact that he didn't really understand that particular attribute. Angel nodded, satisfied with the explanation. It fit the facts he knew, as well as the evidence he had seen in the earlier fight.
Cordy was unsure what to think. She knew what it was like to gain a weird power suddenly, so she could understand where Xander was coming from. The only question was, was he really OK with it, or was he merely pretending?
"Guess I'm not the Zeppo anymore, huh Cordy?"
If she hadn't been so deep in thought, she might have responded in the usual Cordelia Chase fashion - hide a compliment behind an insult. She failed to do that ere, however.
"You were never the Zeppo, Xander. I merely said that because I was hurt and wanted to lash out. You are one of the most extraordinary people I have ever met, and you should be proud of yourself."
Angel and Xander were both shocked, looking at her as though she had just grown another head.
"What? I can be sensitive, you know! Stop being so shocked by my hidden depth, will you? Give a girl a little credit. Sheesh!"
Both men burst out laughing. Cordy crossed her arms and glared at them, though it was less effective than usual, given that they were both on opposite sides from her. She had to mover her head in order to fix the full intensity of the glare on one target. Then she had to move it again to catch the other one.
Once they had both calmed down and been suitably glared at, she relented. Angel looked at Xander closely, taking in the minute changes in the boy since they had last met. He had matured physically, gaining a little height. The biggest changes were in the muscle structure. Angel's sharp vision could detect the changes that had taken place in the muscle and sinew of Xander's body, even in the way that his clothes clung to his body, where before they had been baggy and loose. His entire bearing spoke of a new confidence, a capability to handle anything and everything that could be thrown at him.
Angel looked further than that, knowing that the boy was perfectly capable of wearing a mask so real it fooled all but the closest inspection. His usual mask was the joker, but that was not the only mask he was capable of wearing. Angel made a decision there and then regarding Alexander Harris.
"I have a few decades experience with a sword, Xander. If you like, I could help polish off your skills?"
Cordy almost choked on her own tongue.
"Xander Harris, don't you dare answer that question! If either of you think for one minute that I will allow you to be within fifty yards of each other with pointy, stabby implements, you can just think again."
Both men traded bemused glances, as if saying 'huh?'
"Cordy, it may have escaped your notice, but I've been armed and dangerous all night without trying to dust your boss. If he is capable of landing a hit against me, I'll buy him a mug of blood at the local demon bar anyway. Uglier things have tried and failed."
Angel nodded in agreement. Cordy just sighed.
"Fine, do what you want. Don't come crying to me when someone loses an eye or something."
"It would take a pretty sick mind to envisage the Xan-man as a cyclops, Cor."
"I don't know. It could lead to Nick Fury style hotness."
"Well, eyes are overrated anyway. What do I need two for?"
Angel just laughed at their antics.
Xander was out looking at various car showrooms and dealerships in LA, which is why he was absent. The rest of Angel Investigations had gone to look at an old Hotel that Angel had brought to their attention.
Given that Xander wasn't really a permanent member of the team, he had felt that there was no reason for him to be involved in the team's choice of Headquarters. He would be perfectly satisfied whatever they chose. Given that Angel had made his home in Sunnydale in a fricking Mansion, Xander also assumed the place would look nice.
Xander was currently looking at a very shapely car, while a very shapely saleswoman tried to seduce him into buying it. She might have succeeded, if Xander wasn't still grieving over Anya. As it was, he had looked her squarely in the eye all day, not once dropping his gaze to her long legs or impressive chest. If anyone who knew him had been there, they would have noticed that something was very wrong with the Xan-man.
"Wow. This is just like Back to the Future."
The saleswoman nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes sir. The DeLorean DMC12, as seen in the Back to the Future Trilogy. This is the only one we have available right now, so I don't expect it to be around for too long."
Xander had the mental image of one customer driving off in the DeLorean, only for another to be wheeled out for the next sucker.
He cast his eyes round the various cars on offer, finally settling on one that he hadn't seen before. He ignored the prattling of the saleswoman, instead making his way over to the back of the car lot.
He couldn't identify it until he got closer, but the painted emblem on the front hood of the car made misidentification impossible. It was a big black car, with a silver bird on the hood, surrounded by blue flames. Xander gazed reverently at the beautiful machine, taking in the wheels, the doors, and the chassis.
Until, that is, his own personal torturer came along and spoiled his moment.
"Oh, yeah. This old thing."
Xander stiffened indignantly.
"Ugh. We'll probably have to pay someone to take this beast off our hands."
Xander closed his eyes and counted to ten. When the homicidal rage failed to leave him, he counted to 100.
"I can give you a great deal on a Chevrolet Corvette, if you like. Just let me leave the presence of this monster."
If Xander had been equipped with his SOCOM, he would have drawn on her and shot her in the stomach. Then he realised she would probably bleed on the magnificent example of automotive engineering, so he opted merely to re-educate her.
"This is a 1973 Pontiac Firebird. It features the Super-Duty 455 V-8 engine, a street legal race engine. It also features the Firebird hood emblem, called by some the Screaming Chicken. I intend to buy it, so please make the preparations, before I take my business elsewhere."
She nodded, stunned, before leading him back to the office where he would fill in the necessary paperwork. After he had put pen to paper and paid for his new car, he went to see her boss.
"What can I do for you, Mr Harris?"
"I was wondering what on earth possessed you to hire that woman as your sales head?"
The middle aged, grey-bearded man nodded sagely.
"Yes, those customers who use the bigger brain often ask that question. There are two main reasons. Firstly, she attracts the less intelligent male customers like flies to honey. There was one Billy Idol look-alike who bought a DeSoto from us several years back. The peroxide had obviously seeped into his brain. The Second reason is that she is really good at selling the cars she likes. Finally, she gives great after hours servicing, if you know what I mean."
"I get what you mean. What about the old adage that selling a car is like making love to a beautiful woman?"
"Its true for the most part. I am I the fortunate position of getting to make love to the beautiful woman, while also having her sell my cars. The best of both worlds. Enjoy the Firebird, with my compliments, Mr Harris."
"Oh, I intend to, thank you very much Mr Butcher."
He pulled up in front of the address that Angel had given him. A place called the Hyperion Hotel. As he brought his new car to a stop and switched off the engine, he sat and gazed lovingly at the dashboard, before running his hand along it.
"My Precious."
Then he got out, locked the door and walked into the hotel, whistling softly to himself. As he entered into the Hyperion, he absorbed the details of the hotel with his eyes. It was beautiful, or at least it would be, if it weren't covered in dust. The central stairs in the middle of the building drew his attention, so he walked towards them, intending to ascend them.
He was distracted by the sound of voices in one of the rooms off to the side of the foyer.
"I mean, a few throw pillow, what's not to love?" Xander interrupted the conversation.
"It needs some paint, as well as good cleaning. It has definite potential, though."
Angel gave him a nod of welcome, which was simultaneous with a grunt of agreement.
"Hey Wes, Chuck. How you doing?"
"Pretty good, X-man. Just bagged us a Thesulac Demon."
"Uh, yes, about that. Do any of you think me particularly paranoid?"
They all looked at Wesley, before shaking their heads and saying:
"No, not at all, Wesley. At least, not any more than the rest of us."
Wesley smiled, pleased by the answer. Xander walked up to him and clapped him on the shoulder.
"After all Wes, it isn't paranoia if they really are out to get you."
The whole room then began to laugh.
Xander and Angel had worked through a set of sword techniques every afternoon for the past fortnight. Xander's reactions had failed to kick in when he was not under attack. As long as they kept the sparring non-lethal, Xander was forced to meet Angel in combat with all the disadvantages of Human versus Vampire. It made learning to sword fight rather exhausting.
As Cordy worked in the office, rearranging it to suit her impeccable taste, she heard screaming come from the training room.
"Harris I'm gonna kill you and bury you where no-one will ever find you!"
"I'm sorry Angel, it was an accident!"
"You little arse! You slashed my hair! Do you know how man hours it takes to style hair like this without a sodding reflection?"
Cordy shook her head and sighed. It was just like she had predicted. Had they listened to her? Nooo. Of course they hadn't. Men!
Xander stood in the middle of the training room, blade in hand. Angel stood only a hair's breadth away from him, affixing a blind- fold.
"Look Angel, I said I was sorry about he hair. What more do you want, blood?"
The blind-fold tightened to a painful noose, before Angel reigned in his homicidal urges.
"Don't tempt me Harris."
Xander gulped when he remembered to whom he was talking. Angel smiled cruelly, if Xander could have seen it, he would have been uncomfortably reminded of Angelus.
"Any questions before we start?"
"Yeah, why am I blindfolded?"
Angel sighed, covering his face with his free hand.
"We are doing this to try and increase the control you have over your ability."
"OK, thanks. Let's get started then."
Angel swung his blade. Xander yelped and ducked, having heard the telltale 'swoosh' of a sword slicing through the air.
"Don't guess! You have to know where the blade is going to be, and make sure you aren't there. Be in a position to take advantage of your opponent!"
"How can I do that if you kill me?"
"I'm not gonna kill you, you idiot, now shut up and start moving!"
Instead of slashing with his sword, Angel struck out with a front kick
Xander moved.
Over the course of the following afternoon, Angel kept true to his word. He didn't kill Xander. He did, however bruise Xander, as well as make hi bleed from several shallow cuts. Xander had dodged only a third of Angel's strikes, mostly through dumb luck.
After two hours of this, Xander was dead on his feet. Not in quite the same way as deadboy, of course. The mental strain of being under attack from all quarters by a faster and stronger enemy had exhausted him. Angel knew this; it was obvious to him. The laboured breathing, the unenthusiastic evasion. Xander still refused to ask for a time out, or an end to the training.
'Just as stubborn as ever. Nice to se that no matter how he changes, he's still Xander.'
That was when it happened. Xander's mind had switched off. He was running on empty, no energy left to fuel him but his own stubbornness. When he was physically and mentally unable to go on, there was an almost audible 'click'. He stood up straighter, waiting for Angel's next attack.
Angel had failed to notice the change in Xander's body language, so he had leapt forward at half speed and thrown a lazy haymaker at Xander's head. His surprise was almost a physical force when Xander smoothly moved under it and rammed an elbow into the Vampire's stomach.
Then the blindfolded man spun and struck Angel in the ribs with an open handed palm strike. Realising he was too tired to last much longer, Xander grabbed Angel's sword, wrenched it from his grip and held it to his neck.
Angel nodded once in respect, then realised that Xander was still blindfolded.
"Good work. I think we've finished what I wanted to do to today."
Xander handed the sword back to Angel, removing his blindfold with his other hand.
"Thanks Angel. You better put this back before Cordy thinks we've killed each other"
Both men shared a laugh at that thought.
Then Xander limped away to have a shower and grab some sleep. He had an appointment with an old acquaintance later in the afternoon, so he wanted to be in top shape.
Cordelia and Xander walked into the Los Angeles Correctional Facility for Women. Xander had left his weaponry behind at the Hyperion. He should have felt naked without his assortment of hardware. The match with Angel had given him enough confidence in himself and his hand to hand skills that he knew he was safe without any weaponry.
All he had to worry about was a caged Slayer. When you back someone into a corner, the only way out is through you. Xander was breathing heavily, his palms were sweating and he could almost feel a pair of soft, deceptively slender hands clamp down on his neck.
'Stop it Xan. She's changed, give her the chance to prove it.'
Cordy had noticed the haunted look in his eyes.
"She really has changed, you know. She isn't all 'Psycho Slut' now. I've made it a point to visit her regularly, just to make sure she's holding up OK."
"I'm just trying to convince myself, Cordy. It's not easy, but I still want to be there for her. It was my fault she went bad in the first place."
That brought Cordy up short. She actually stopped moving altogether.
"How on earth did you come to that conclusion?"
"Isn't it obvious? I slept with her. Well, not so much with the sleeping. If I hadn't done that, she would have listened to me later, when I tried to help her, instead of assuming that I just wanted another shag."
Cordy raised an eyebrow at that one.
'Shag?'
"Okay, firstly? Faith doesn't trust the male of the species. I don't know why, but I think its possible to guess with some degree of accuracy. She would have assumed you still wanted to screw her even if you were the Pope. Secondly, you need to stop hanging round with Englishmen. Shag does not transfer well into a Californian accent."
Xander massaged his brow with one hand while muttering something about spiking Weetabix with Holy Water.
"So, what happened with Faith was in no way your fault. You and Angel were the only members of the Scooby Gang that actually gave a damn about what happened to her."
He nodded once, shocked at the maturity and sensitivity that Cordy was displaying.
"Now, lets not keep our girl waiting."
Faith Wilkins was not a patient woman. She had been sitting on the prisoner side of the safety glass for five minutes. It was so unlike Cordy to be late.
'Is she even gonna come? Did she finally realise that I ain't worth visitin? Sheesh, sure took her long enough.'
The hollow ache in her heart gave the lie to those thoughts, however. When the doors opened and Cordy walked in with a guy trailing behind her, Faith felt her sadness lift like a rainbow revealing itself after a storm. Cordy strutted as confidently as ever, while the guy looked around, taking in the surroundings with sharp eyes. The guy seemed familiar, but the way he walked and the build of his body was new. The lighting; as well as the fact that he had been looking around, had obscured his face.
When he stepped up beside Cordy and gave Faith a lopsided smile, the incarcerated Slayer's heart almost stopped.
"Xander? BOYTOY? The Hell are you doing in LA?"
"Wow Faith. I missed you too. That the way you greet all your old friends?"
She crossed her arms and looked to the side.
"When I meet an old friend, I'll let you know."
"Oh! We're back to this old chestnut, huh? Faith the big bad Slayer. Comin' straight outta Boston with a stake and a bad attitude. I saw through your pathetic act last year. It doesn't get better with repeated viewings."
She glared at him.
"It's who I am. If you don't like it, you can leave. Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out."
"Its not who you are, or the Mayor would never have entrapped you by showing you a father's love."
She snorted, most unladylike, but definitely in keeping with Faith's character.
"I told you once Faith. We have a connection. You assumed that I meant sex. I didn't. I meant that we both wear masks. Cordy did it as well. We hide our true selves, afraid of rejection, or pain or whatever. The reasons are different for everyone. You tried to break the connection by killing me. It scared the hell out of you. I could see it in your eyes, as plain as day."
She was looking him right in the eye, no bravado, no pretense. He returned her look, no joking, and no self-depreciation. Just Faith and Xander, the real people behind the façade.
"How can I trust you? You're a guy. You just want to get some and get gone."
"If that were true, why would I be back here now? You already popped my cherry, what other use are you?"
"You want some more. I know how good I am between the sheets, boytoy."
"I just came out of a relationship with an 1100 year-old former vengeance Demon. She knew positions and could do things that make you look like a nun."
"Why'd ya split? She realise that one guy is just the same as the next?"
He leaned forward, his eyes becoming colder than liquid nitrogen.
"She was kidnapped and used in genetic research, before they murdered her. They couldn't use her, you see. I killed the mad scientist who gave the orders. I shot her and left her to bleed to death. The only reason I haven't decided to kill you for making that remark is that you were ignorant of the facts. Say something like that again and I will kill you."
For the first time since she had been Called, Faith Wilkins was afraid of a normal human. The look in Xander's eyes had been truly lethal. He was being absolutely serious. He would kill her without thinking twice. The whole room seemed darker and (if possible) even less friendly.
Then Xander leaned back, smiled that goofy grin of his, and the whole episode seemed like a dream. His eyes warmed up and sparkled with the humour he was known for.
"So, are they gonna knock any time off your sentence for good behaviour?"
Cordy and Faith both smiled at that one.
"You know me, Xan. Good behaviour isn't in this girl's vocabulary, get me?"
The guard came to escort her back to her cell.
Xander leaned in again and spoke quietly, words intended only for Faith.
"I forgave you for what you did a long time ago. Don't continue to hate yourself. Let it go. When you get out, Angel will have a place for you on his team. If you want, I can keep your seat on the Scooby Gang couch warm. The future is bright for you, Faith. All you have to do is satisfy the authorities that you've changed."
She looked into his eyes here, trying to determine whether or not he was telling the truth. When he met her gaze and nodded once she was convinced. As she turned to walk out, she mouthed a single word to him. He replied in kind:
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Then Xander and Cordelia also turned to leave.
There was a lull over the rest of the summer months. The Angel Investigations used the time to redecorate the Hyperion. Angel and Xander continued to practice sword fighting in a barely non-lethal way. There were only a handful of note-worthy incidents.
The first was the delivery of a government letter addressed to Mr. A. Harris. Inside was a gun permit that covered his SOCOM and the FAMAS. Everyone but Xander was surprised at the implied ability of the United States Government to find one man. He knew that he had placed himself on their radar by bringing down the Initiative.
The second was a very unsettling conversation that Angel had engaged him in after practice one day.
"Xander, I need to talk to you about something."
"Can it wait? I smell like blood and sweat, and muscles I didn't even know existed ache."
"It's more of a favour I have to ask."
"Look, I don't swing that way. I knew getting sweaty and scantily clad in front of you was a bad idea. If you want a toyboy, phone Sunnydale and ask for Spike."
Angel looked like he had just been asked to eat Buffy's cooking.
"Not that, you idiotic mortal!"
There was a pause as Angel thought about the strange turn the conversation had taken.
"Just what did Spike tell you anyway?"
"I was his unwilling flatmate for several months. There wasn't much he wasn't willing to try in order to traumatise me."
"Any way, to get back onto the reason I was trying to talk with you. Do you remember the promise you made Angelus?"
"That he would die and I would be there? You bet your ass I do."
"I'm going to hold you to that, if he ever gets loose. There was an incident several months ago where my blood was spiked with a drug. Angelus got loose and Wesley and Cordy had to stop him."
"Well, if the can take care of it, why are we having this conversation?"
"Cause I need someone who is capable of taking him out. Cordy and Wes are too close; they would go for resouling. If it becomes necessary to take him out, there's only one person I trust to do it. You."
Xander sighed and looked at the ground. He had come to like Angel over the past couple of months. Well, maybe not 'like'; but there was a definite respect between them. He knew that he would do what was necessary, even if he didn't want to.
"I know you can be relied on to do this, Xander. I know that you lied to Buffy about the curse." Xander's head snapped up, his eyes wide with shock. Angel nodded, smiling slightly.
"You told Cordy later on. She told me one evening when we were working on research. Incidentally, the same night I told her about the Zombies and the Visiting room incidents."
Xander steeled himself, expecting the shouting and recriminations to begin any moment. Angel merely shot him an amused look.
"Relax, kid. Its not like I could hurt you physically even if I wanted to. I admire the fact that you loved Buffy enough to hide that little piece of information from her. It wasn't as if Angelus was gonna hold back during the final act. He wanted her dead, whether by his own hands or by Acathla. It hurts that Buffy couldn't see past the face to the thing behind it."
Xander started breathing again.
"You have a talent for seeing beyond the surface. I believe you know the difference between myself and Angelus."
Xander just nodded, agreeing with Angel's statements, as well as accepting the request that had started the conversation.
"I'd prefer it if you made every effort to keep the soul, Angel."
"I will. I promise you won't be called on unless there is no other choice."
They walked out of the room, conversation finished.
Xander's recovery was complete. He had finally finished grieving for Anya, while continuing to help Angel Investigations. The concerns of Buffy and Willow had ultimately been unfounded. Not only had he survived, he had become stronger.
The summer lull came to an end for Xander on the 4th of September 2000. He had been sitting watching Cable when there had been an emergency broadcast of CNN. There had been an incident at the Akropolis Towers in downtown LA. The top 10 floors of the building had been destroyed by an explosion.
Over the next two days, the life of Xander Harris would be irrevocably changed. It all started with a phonecall. When he picked it up, he was greeted by the decidedly unsettled voice of Riley Finn.
"Xander, we have a problem."
"Sunydale? Is it an Apocalypse?"
"Not Sunnydale. 'We' as in you and I. The suits in the White House want you to do a job for them!"
"I'm a civilian, Ri. They have no power over me. Not even the Mr Impeachment Hearing himself."
"They know you'll want to be in on this one, Xan. In the Mojave Desert, Nevada is a small town called Dryfield. Underneath Dryfield is an old Shelter. This Shelter has been used as a laboratory by a group of scientists studying DNA manipulation and something called 'Mitochondria'."
Xander's hands tightened on the phone.
"Finn, were the Government involved with this shit again?"
"No. We had nothing to do with it. This was a private effort. The suits wanted to send in a guy named Kyle Madigan to investigate, but your name came up. Your experience with things that aren't exactly human was seen as necessary."
"What the hell? What's been done up there in these experiments that they need a Slayerette to deal with them?"
"There are reports of cattle mutilation and wild monsters in the Dryfield area. We thought initially it was Demons, but it isn't. Demons aren't stupid enough to be so obvious."
Xander nodded in agreement, pleased with Riley's assessment.
"The FBI have dispatched a Detective by the name of Aya Brea to investigate. She was also involved in the Akropolis Tower investigation. She has a history of investigating serial murders and such. The case reports seem to indicate that weird shit happens at her crime scenes. She is also highly attractive, so be careful."
Xander knew that a highly attractive woman was, according to his experience, the most deadly of the species. He usually fell for the pretty ones, who in return tried to kill him. He knew that e would be going to Dryfield as soon as he hung up, so he asked one last question.
"Was this the reason I was sent a gun permit?"
"The suits wanted to avoid unnecessary complications involving you and military issue hardware."
"OK. I'll get off. No time to wait around when genetic experiments are running riot."
He hung up and put his phone back in his pocket. Then he walked up to his room and packed his clothes into a holdall. Then he picked up his assault rig, which contained his guns and ammo. As he walked out to his car, he was brought up short when Angel and Cordy were standing in front of the entrance. Both looked deadly serious.
"So you're leaving?"
"How did you...Oh, wait - Vamp hearing?"
Angel nodded, looking embarrassed.
Cordy stepped forward and hugged Xander. Hard. Xander squeezed her in return, a little less strongly. She whispered in his ear.
"You better come back in one piece, Xander. Or I will be very angry."
Xander nodded, promising without words to do as she asked.
Angel came forward, declining to hug Xander, to his relief. Instead the Vampire with a soul handed over a black duster.
Xander looked from the coat to Angel in confusion.
"You're Hawaiian shirts don't really conceal your weaponry. Especially the sword. So I figured, if you were going to be in the company of a cop, you ought to be able to hide your arsenal."
Xander grabbed his hand and shook it.
"Thank you Angel. It's the first time I ever got a gift that's both functional and good looking."
"Stay alive kid. Or else."
Again, Xander just nodded. He really didn't trust himself to speak without his voice betraying him.
He folded the duster neatly over one arm, atop his various weaponry, and walked out of Angel Investigations. He unlocked his car, placed his items in the passenger seat and started the car. The deep rumbling of the powerful engine was like music to his ears, so he drove off with one final wave to his friends.
"Dryfield, next stop."
Xander was pushing his new car hard. The roar of the engine was as addictive to him as… something really addictive. When he had pressed down the pedal and let the throttle all the way out, it had taken every ounce of willpower he possessed not to start squealing like a little girl. The car was travelling at such speeds that he had actually had to activate his early warning ability just to ensure he didn't crash.
'Looking back, the blindfold thing was actually a pretty good idea. Without it, I would probably still be unable to activate this…thing I can do. How 'bout that? The Xan-man has a thing.'
He chuckled as the last time he had mentioned his 'thing' had came to mind. Buffy had wondered if he had been using a penis metaphor. Uncle Rory's broken down Bel-Air was nothing compared to the beauty he now owned.
He grabbed the roadmap he had bought and studied it again, trying to make sure he was going the right way. All the speed in the world wouldn't help him if he got lost. Worse, it wouldn't help the people in Dryfield. When he was satisfied that he was heading in the right direction, he wedged the map between his seat and the gearbox. Once that was done, he shifted up a gear and pushed the accelerator as far down as he could.
The Firebird responded by moving (or, more accurately, leaping) forward in a display of acceleration that would have done a Formula 1 race driver proud. The noise of the engine became louder, drowning out even Xander's shouts of excitement.
Xander arrived in Dryfield several hours after leaving LA. He pulled up beside the chain link fence and opened it, before climbing back into the Pontiac and driving through the open gate. As he drove, he noticed another car parked beside a set of gas pumps. He turned the car left and parked opposite a rundown grocery store. He exited the car and returned to the gate, closing it. The he went and fetched his assault harness from the passenger seat.
It was, Xander reflected, not the type of weather for the clothing he was wearing. Black jeans, a grey T-shirt and a pair of Caterpillar boots. He put the thigh holster on his right leg, as usual, with the SOCOM in easy reach. The rest of his weaponry was placed in various positions on the harness. His FAMAS had been sold off in LA to a gun collector who had been obsessed with snakes or something.
His replacement, an MP5A5 hung at his side, four clips of 9mm prepared for quick reloading. It was far easier to conceal, though it meant that all of his guns were now Heckler and Koch. Then there was the fact that it was a sub-machine gun rather than an assault rifle, but that was something that couldn't be helped. His short sword was slung over his back, resting comfortably in a position that would allow Xander to easily unsheathe it.
Force of habit had led to him bringing several stakes and some Holy Water along as standard issue. He placed a couple of stakes in the assault harness. During his months in LA, Xander had found that a stake to the heart would kill a surprising proportion of the various Demon species.
The H&K VP70 that he had taken from Maggie Walsh was no longer in his possession. The same gun collector had bought it from Xander for an extravagant amount of money. Though it was a rare gun, the buyer had started going on about Racoons. As far as Xander was concerned, using a handgun to chase away vermin was like using a sword to cut a slice of cheese. Overkill. That went double for a gun such as the VP70.
He had replaced it with a HK P7, a small 9mm that had been the perfect size for a backup weapon. It was slipped into an ankle holster on his left leg, bought in LA for just that purpose. A small pouch on Xander's left hip contained 9mm rounds that would reload the pistol. Given that the clip already loaded in the pistol only held 8 rounds, he was prepared to use it only when he had no other choice. It was a back up pistol, after all.
He slipped his new duster over the ensemble, concealing the slightly illegal weaponry from view. Into the various pockets of the duster he slipped a vial of Holy Water, two stakes and a combat knife. An inside pocket was home to a pouch containing loose .45 rounds for the SOCOM, in addition to the three clips he had already attached to his harness.
A silver cross went round his neck, the only source of light among the dark clothing Xander was wearing. After four years of wearing a cross as the last line of defence against vampires, he felt naked without the familiar weight around his neck.
Adjusting the jacket so it fit comfortably (as well as checking his reflection in the car window to make sure he didn't look like a Vamp) he headed toward the motel that was visible a few yards away. As he moved, there was a soft rustling behind him. He spun, moving the duster aside and placing a hand on his SOCOM in one easy motion. As he drew the SOCOM from its sheath, he felt the familiar whisper that he had named the 'get the hell out of dodge' tingle.
It was so named because it only happened when something was about to take place that required he move the hell out of the way. He had named it after the Angel team had taken down a sorcerer who had intended summoning a nasty demon. All at the behest of Wolfram and Hart. They had tracked him down thanks to the timely intervention of one of Cordy's visions.
When the sorcerer in question had been cornered, he had resorted to a kamikaze magical explosion, in a last-ditch effort to fulfil his contract. Xander had grabbed Wesley and Cordy by the ears and hauled ass. Angel had followed them unhesitatingly; realising that Xander had felt something bad was going to happen.
They had reached the edge of the area of effect that the spell would encompass when it had exploded, literally. They had all been knocked over by a shock wave, barely avoiding the burst of green flames that had consumed the sorcerer and the room they had just exited.
Now Xander obeyed his early warning system with an ease born of long practice. Angel had been absolutely unmerciful in coercing Xander into learning how to make use of his early warning skill. Xander had the bruises to prove it. After he had learned to activate the skill at will, Xander had attempted to use the skill in an offensive capacity.
He had practised on the various Demons and Vampires which he had come across with his Private Investigator friends. His ability was equally lethal when applied to where an enemy would be. Firing a gun into the direct path of an enemy is usually only done by snipers, who have to calculate how far a target will have moved between the firing of the rifle and the bullet reaching the target. It was an accurate testament to his skills that he had never failed to hit what he aimed at.
He had been almost equal with Riley in terms of skill, despite the Initiative soldier's greater experience and training. Often Xander had competed with the elder man while at the firing range. Then this strange ability had reared itself, so Xander now made Carlos the Jackal look short-sighted.
Xander leapt to the side, twisting in the air in order to backflip as soon as he landed. Once he had finished his evasive manoeuvres, he pulled his SOCOM from its sheath and aimed at where his attacker was now standing. Though Xander had taken aim, he was stopped from pulling the trigger when he got a good look at the thing he was about to shoot.
It was a four-legged horse type thing, with a vaguely human face. Big red eyes and beady black pupils stared at him. Then it charged again, forcing Xander to cartwheel to the side. He followed this up with a back somersault, hoping to put enough distance between himself and the beast. In the meantime, the rampaging animal had smashed its head against the wall of the grocery store, so Xander took advantage of this to pump it full of .45 calibre lead.
When he had shot it with 5 rounds, it died. He knew it was dead, because it began dissolving into a puddle of orange slime, which just as quickly disappeared. Now that had a surprisingly calming effect on Xander. Demons often disintegrated when dead, so it gave him something familiar to fix onto. The beast he had just killed was more like a rabid animal than any demon Xander had come across.
'Riley was right. These things aren't Demons. No Demon worth his salt would up and die after being shot 5 times. There is some serious freaky stuff happening in this town. I intend to get to the bottom of it. First thing I'll do is find the locals and see how they're holding up.'
Xander knew on a subconscious level that he was unlikely to find any survivors. The town had a desolate, empty feel to it. Even Sunnydale didn't feel like this. Xander shivered, despite the temperature. He reloaded his SOCOM; some instinct telling him he would need all the bullets he could lay his hands on before this little adventure was over. Once he had finished reloading, he slipped the silenced pistol back in its holster, then rearranged his duster to cover it.
He opened the second gate, through which he could see the motel he had intended heading towards. None of the doors were open when he checked them, so he moved on. There was an ice machine at the end of the square he stood in with a door that looked more like a gate. Vertical metal bars made up the doorgatething, with horizontal metal braces in the middle and the bottom, holding it all together. As he opened it, it grated loudly, in serious need of some lubricant.
Xander made his way round the side of the building he had just discovered, to the front door. The sign next to the door read 'Douglas Scrapyard - No Trespassing'. He tried the door, but it was locked. Smaller footprints could be made out in the sand around him. If Xander was any judge they were recent prints. There was a second set that led back the way he had come. He followed them back to the square, and over to a gate that was nestled in between the middle two hotel rooms.
He walked through the gate and winced as his ears were again assaulted by a high pitched squeak. He emerged into an alleyway that widened into a cul-de-sac. There was a public toilet on his left and what was probably the office for the motel. He pressed his nose up against the window, seeing a till and a rack of room keys. That was when he heard it.
A strange, highly distinctive report from a pistol that seemed to float down from above. Xander spun round, seeing a set of stairs that he had missed on his initial inspection. He ran for the stairs, taking them two at a time. As he moved, his mind identified the gunshots as having come from a Beretta 93R.
He reached the top of the stairs and ran along the corridor at the top, emerging on the balcony with his SOCOM drawn. The sight of three rapidly disintegrating monster corpses, as well as the echo of a door closing greeted him. There were two rooms on this level, as well as a storeroom at the far end of the balcony. One room was on his right, while the other was on his left. The corpses that had now disappeared entirely, had been strewn about in a pattern consistent with someone moving to the left.
Gathering his courage, he holstered his .45 and walked toward the door, pausing right in front of it before he took any further action. He could hear a voice faintly through the door. He was unable to make out any intelligible words, but he could make out the pitch and tone of the voice. It was undeniably feminine, almost entrancing, Xander had never heard a voice like this before.
He knocked on the door confidently, receiving a muffled (and slightly shocked) shout in response.
"Be there in a minute!"
Xander waited patiently for the door to open, and was rewarded two minutes later when a vision in blue answered the door. She was medium height, slender and had blonde hair down to her jaw line. Bright blue eyes peeked out from behind gently slanted eyes, implying Asian blood. She wore a denim jacket and a purple and black skirt, with a Beretta 93R in a thigh holster.
Xander snapped back to attention when she coughed politely.
'Oh, damn. She probably thinks I'm checking her out!'
He looked up at the woman's face, only to see she was clearly amused, to the point where she was holding back laughter. Her eyes twinkled merrily at him.
"Men always look at the gun. What can I do for you?"
Aya had taken the time to study the young man before her. He was tall, probably over 6 feet. He was well muscled, and armed. She placed his age at anywhere between 20 and 25. He had also quickly and expertly analysed her with a glance. Whoever he was, he would bare watching.
"I'm looking for Agent Brea of the FBI. Given that you are female, armed and the only other person I've encountered in this charming little hamlet, I presume you're her?"
"I am. Would you like to come in? Its terribly impolite to leave you on the doorstep after you've come all the way out here to see me."
Aya walked back into the room, allowing Xander entrance. Xander was caught off guard by the invitation; it had been years since he had been invited into anyone's home. It just wasn't the done thing in Sunnydale. You stepped to the side and allowed the person entry, but you never ever said, "come in." So he just kind of stood there in shock. When he realised that he must look really, really stupid, he walked inside and closed the door behind him.
He walked in calmly, trying not to remember the last time he had been alone with a woman in a motel room. The entire place was filled with the delicate aroma of Aya's perfume. It was something citric, something that made his heart beat faster and his breath quicken. He had never had a reaction to any woman's perfume like this. Not Buffy, nor Willow, nor Cordy, not Kendra, or Jenny. Certainly not with Faith, or Anya, with whom he had been far more intimate than the other women in his life.
She flicked on the kettle and found two cups to drink from. She grabbed the milk from the small refrigerator and poured some into her own cup. Then she turned to ask her guest what his preferences were.
"Tea or Coffee?"
"Uhh…Coffee please."
"Milk or sugar?"
"Milk, no sugar, thanks."
She poured the hot water and stirred the drinks, then handed him a cup. They sat for a moment or two, sipping the hot drinks. Aya was rather uncomfortable with beginning any conversation, give that she was something of a lone wolf.
Circumstances after the awakening of her Mitochondria and the subsequent abnormal abilities that had lain dormant (but were now decidedly active), had meant she had been alone for the past couple of years. Her only friends after moving from New York to Los Angeles were Jodie Bouquet and Pierce Carradine, two of her workmates at the FBI's M.I.S.T. unit. Everyone else was afraid of her. Or they failed to respect her due to her physical appearance. After all, her chronological age was 27, but she looked about 22.
It was Xander who would be required to open the conversation. He realised that he had failed to give the pretty lady his name, so he took another sip of coffee and concentrated on calming down and decreasing his heartbeat. Then he put his thoughts into as coherent a pattern as he could manage. Then he leaned forward and began to talk in a quiet, serious tone that made Aya sit up and pay attention.
"My name is Xander Harris. I come from a small town two hours away from Los Angeles, named Sunnydale. Three months ago I came home from my job at a construction site to find my girlfriend had been kidnapped. I deduced from evidence left at the scene, that she had been taken by a local government black project called the Initiative. She had certain genetic abnormalities, which they wanted to see if they could replicate and make use of. I was too late to save my girlfriend, but I succeeded in shutting down the project."
He stopped, taking another sip from his coffee. He was trying to avoid using the word Demon. He cast a surreptitious look at Aya, who looked almost…sad? No, he thought haunted was probably a better word.
"I took a couple of months to recover from her death, as well as becoming rather proficient at some unusual skills that had awakened. Then I get a call from a friend saying that his bosses want me to come to Dryfield and take a look at the genetic experimentations that have been running around. I was also told to find an FBI Agent named Aya Brea. Apparently you have quite the reputation for 'weird shit' happening at crime scenes you investigate."
At the phrase 'weird shit' he bent his fingers into the universal sign for quotation marks. The FBI agent was looking at him strangely, almost measuring him up.
"Are you some sort of spy, Xander?"
"Nope, I'm just a civilian who got involved in a secret war."
Aya nodded. She could certainly understand that. This young man had been sent with orders to find her. That implied that he was expected to be useful to her in some capacity. This was all highly unorthodox. Sending a civilian into an NMC combat zone was absolutely unheard of. There was one thing that she needed confirmation on, before she would be prepared to accept either his story or his help.
"Have you ever come across the term Mitochondria, Xander?"
"It cropped up in my briefing, but I'm afraid that it went right over my head."
That was perfectly acceptable. In Aya's experience, there were few people who understood the term and its implications. She drank some more coffee while deciding exactly how much information to give to her guest.
"Mitochondria are organelles that are present in multi-cellular lifeforms, possessing DNA different from that found in the nucleus of that lifeform. Mitochondria generally co-exist within their human hosts. There are cases of Mitochondria changing their hosts into bizarre beasts, which have been named Neo-Mitochondrion Creatures, which generally rampage around, killing people. That's where the FBI enters into things. I am a member of the Mitochondria Investigation and Suppression Team. We aren't agents in the traditional sense; rather we are NMC Hunters. We came about after the N. Y. Blockade incident."
"Hey, wait a second! What was the Blockade incident?"
Aya's head turned, a bemused look on her face.
"What! You don't know? A six day blockade starting on Christmas Eve 1997, only ending when I killed the ringleader. It was where Neo- Mitochondria, a strain that is responsible for the creation of NMCs first became active. Most people believe, due to a slight cover-up, that it was a terrorist incident. You really haven't heard of it?"
His gaze darkened slightly.
"Christmas isn't a good time for me to concentrate on news stories. 1997 in particular was a pretty bad year for me."
The FBI agent just nodded, unsure as to the cause of his change of mood.
Xander was almost shocked. If not for the fact that he had been fighting things that were an even more well kept secret, he might have been surprised that the government, the FBI and the rest, could keep something like this hidden. His mind was already imagining some of the cover stories that they could be using. Gas leaks. Wild animal attacks, serial killers, copycats of older cases.
"So you hunt these monsters? That would explain why you're here. Given that you were at the Akropolis Tower, I assume that NMCs were involved."
She smiled, pleased at his ability to piece together the clues that had been placed in front of him. Xander smiled back with the familiar goofy grin that had captured the heart of many a female.
"Actually there was an unusual development in the Akropolis incident. The NMCs there were not natural. They had been altered genetically, so that the Mitochondria could be impelled to change after receiving a specific signal. The receiver for this signal was a small transponder that was fitted behind the ear. One victim transformed into an ANMC right in front of me."
"Let me guess, an ANMC is an Artificial Neo-Mitochondrion Creature?"
Aya smiled sheepishly and nodded.
"You obviously have experience with government naming systems. Not a very imaginative title, but it's adequate."
"Oh, I could probably come close. I don't think I'll try it, though."
She smirked at him, obviously not believing him. He just shrugged. Then he walked out onto the balcony of the motel room, looking at the water tower in the middle of the town. He decided that he would go up and have a look.
"I'm gonna head for the high ground. I'll be back in a couple of minutes."
Aya nodded, agreeing with his decision. When he had climbed down the stairs to the ground below, she phoned M.I.S.T. Headquarters.
"Pierce? It's Aya. I need a background check on a man named Xander Harris. Born in Sunnydale, California. Around 20 years of age."
"..."
"I know it isn't much. It's all I have for you though."
"..."
"Okay. Thanks very much Pierce. I'll speak to you later."
Then she gathered up her things and went out to join Xander on the water tower. She looked up, but couldn't see him anywhere up there. Then she looked down to the ground level, wondering if Xander was having trouble with something. When her eyes fell on the decomposing remains of several ANMCs, she was shocked, to put it mildly.
Then her eyes were drawn to a flash of light, as would be caused by sunlight glinting off something metal. She followed the glint and found Xander. He was shooting one ANMC at range with a silenced handgun, while he sliced another at close range with a sword. That made two times in the past twenty-four hours that she had seen someone use a sword!
"What is wrong with these people? First that freak at the Akropolis tower dresses up like the Green Beret version of Jason Voorhees, complete with machete. Now Xander is fighting two ANMCs at once in the most unusual way possible! Is it some kind of guy thing?"
Her diatribe was cut short when she noticed a group of ANMCs waiting to Ambush Xander, should he reach them. She quickly climbed down the stairs and drew her pistol, aiming at the closest creature. Then she realised that they were too far away for he pistol to reach.
Meanwhile Xander approached, oblivious to his peril. His weaponry had all been put away. Aya realised that she had only one option left, if she wanted to exterminate the ANMCs quickly. She let her gun drop to her side and brought her left hand up to her forehead. She mentally counted down to the point where her mitochondria produced enough energy to produce the attack she was about to perform.
The ANMCs had sensed the change in her biochemistry and were reacting on instinct, closing in to attack her.
Xander noticed that a group of creatures were approaching Aya and his so-called 'White Knight' complex kicked in. He ran forward, remembering his SOCOM was empty and drawing his MP5A5 from his side. He brought it up to his hip and mentally flicked the switch that would allow him to fire with 100% accuracy.
Aya realised that she had miscalculated, that she was going to be unable to activate her Combustion Parasite Energy before the monsters reached her. Undaunted, she redoubled her efforts. She would take them with her then!
Her face changed from one of concentration to one of shock, when the first horse-NMC leapt at her, intent on smashing her into the wall behind her. Then her shock deepened when there was a chattering burst of gunfire and the leaping creature was ripped out of the air and smashed against the wall. The rest of the creatures continued to charge, right into the range of Aya's attack.
All of a sudden, her energy stopped gathering, the warm, buzzing sensation in every cell of her body telling her it was ready. She removed her hand from her forehead and pointed it towards the ANMCs. Barely seconds later, two streams of fire traced a semi-circular arc in front of her, immolating the beasts.
She straightened up, caught her breath, and ran a hand through her hair. Then she heard the crunch of a booted foot on sand, which snapped her back to reality. She turned to find Xander inspecting the remains of the ANMCs she had burned. He whistled, seeming… impressed?
"Wow! You didn't even displace the sand! That's some mighty impressive control you've got going there, Ms Brea."
"Uhh…thanks…I think."
"Oh, yeah. One time one of my friends pulled a similar trick with a ball of ire, she nearly burned her house down. Well, her curtains, anyway."
Aya just nodded, slightly confused by the younger man's rambling. Then she noticed that the water tower was behind an electric gate that was open. Presumably that was why Xander had been making his way around the perimeter of the fence. She walked over to the gate, Xander following a pace or two behind. When they reached the ladder, Xander put a hand on her shoulder, in order to stop her from attempting to climb before him.
"If I knew you better, I would make an inappropriate comment about the opportunity to look up your skirt. Instead, I'll just climb the ladder first."
Aya laughed at his rather offbeat sense of humour, motioning for him to go ahead. When they reached the top of the ladders, they both looked out over the desert. The entire town, small as it was, could be seen from this vantage point. Aya looked west, while Xander looked east. Then they swapped positions. Xander bashed his arm against the ladder that led to the top of the water tower, then he climbed up it.
Aya barely noticed, having spotted Mr. Douglas' red pick-up truck driving back into town after his patrol. When Xander came back down the ladder with a pensive look on his face and a set of keys in his hand, she decided that it would be better not to ask. She made to climb down the ladder and Xander followed her.
There was a scratching beneath them, as if some small animal were burrowing. Aya stopped, trying to identify the sound. She was standing there, a look of intense concentration on her face, when Xander grabbed her by the arm and hauled her backwards, none too gently. Then he drew his MP5 and pointed it towards the direction of the noise, prompting Aya to do the same.
Then, as if on cue, four oversized scorpion-like ANMCs emerged from the sand. Xander opened fire on the first with his SMG, whilst Aya destroyed another with her Beretta 93R on three-shot burst. The other two fell in the same way as Xander and Aya changed targets. Xander turned to her with a smirk on his face.
"I hate it when the bad guys burrow out of the ground. So cliché."
Aya just smiled at him and shook her head.
Aya waited until the ANMCs had dissolved before walking through the open gate and looking around. The door off to the left seemed to lead up to a small alcove, which led to a door that seemed familiar to Aya. One side of the alcove was the wall of the motel, while the other was a rock face.
As she walked through, Xander and herself were attacked from above. She had heard stones falling down the rock face, her hand going automatically to her sidearm. Xander had merely drawn his sword, placed it ahead of him and angled it upward. Another NMC had fallen on top of the blade and been cut in half when it had made contact. Then it dissolved.
Xander then walked forward and tried the door, as Aya stood and looked between the man and the place where the ANMC had met its end. Then she shook her head as if to clear it and went over to the intercom next to the door that Xander had now stopped trying to open. She pressed the 'Call' button and waited for Mr. Douglas to answer.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Douglas?"
"Oh, it's you. I can't come to the door right now, my peg leg is off. There's a key next to the door, let yourself in."
"Will do, thanks very much!"
*Click*
Xander looked around when the spare key was mentioned, trying to find it. He spotted a small wire mesh covering something at ground level. Behind the mesh dangled a key. He tried to reach in to grab it, but his arm was too thick.
"Aya, I've found the key, but I can't reach it. I'm too big. Will you give it a shot?"
She nodded, getting down as he moved out of the way. She gave up a minute later, as her limbs were too small to get behind the wire, despite the sizeable hole in the top right hand corner of the mesh. Then Xander slapped his forehead and muttered something, before pulling a combat knife from one of his pockets. He handed it to Aya, who made short work of retrieving the key.
5 minutes later they stood inside Gary Douglas' trailer home, as he sat in a chair next to a computer.
"Well, two visitors in one day. That's mighty unusual. What are you doing round these here parts, boy?"
"Well sir, I'm doing a favour for a friend. I also happen to owe something of a debt to people who always get their moneys worth."
Xander shrugged out of his duster, taking advantage of the air- conditioning in the trailer. Aya had made some small talk with the middle-aged guy about his sizeable gun collection, despite the fact that some of the weapons weren't strictly legal. When Xander took off his coat, the old man stared longingly at the SOCOM on his hip.
"May I see that pistol, son?"
Xander nodded and handed it over. Douglas unloaded the clip, counted the rounds, then checked the engraving on the slide. He briefly wondered how the boy had gotten hold of a military model MK 23. Then he decided not to ask. If his guess about the boy was right. The Vietnam veteran looked the boy over again.
'Cross…Sword…Stakes. Yup, the boy's a Vamp hunter.'
"So, son. When did you kill your first vamp?"
Xander's head spun round so fast he almost broke the sound barrier. His expression darkened noticeably. The memories of that night were carved upon his memory in stone. The unfamiliar weight of a stake in his hands, the ebb and flow of the human tide, the shocked expression of betrayal on Jessie's face. He had replayed the whole chain of events out in his head so many times.
"It was only a day after I had found out they existed. My best friend…no, my brother since we were three, had been taken by an old Vampire, a bitch named Darla. I had tried to save him, but."
Xander stopped, casting his mind back to the night of the Harvest.
"He was there the next night, with her. They were going to raise an old and extremely powerful Vamp from his prison beneath the town. He started talking to me, telling me how great it was. He wanted me to join him. Then there was a rush to get out. He and I were pushed together, but I had a stake and…and…Jessie was pushed onto it."
He laughed then, a sound devoid of mirth. He turned away from Aya and Douglas, his shoulders heaving as he tried to get his emotions back under control. Whether he was shaking in rage, or crying, neither of the occupants of the room wanted to hazard a guess.
"How's that for a laugh? I didn't even stake him! He was killed by proxy! Isn't that the funniest thing you ever heard?"
Aya watched as a tear ran down the boy's face. That was what he looked like in the midst of this suppressed grief, a child rather than a man. She understood better than anyone else the pain he had gone through. It was a very unique case of survivor's guilt. Worse, he had had to cope with it alone, seemingly in the middle of a combat situation.
She decided not to look too deeply at the 'Vampire' issue until after the Dryfield problem had been resolved. It was likely that the boy had merely come across an NMC, she rationalised.
She had coped with her own guilt only with the help of her father, after the car crash that had taken the lives of her mother and sister. She closed the distance to where Xander was sitting and embraced him. He resisted for a minute, before grabbing her as if she were the only other person in the world.
Douglas watched as the boy broke down, crying. It was something he had seen only a handful of times before in his life. The boy was one of a dying breed, who put others before themselves. They were the types of men who joined up and gave their lives on a battlefield to make a difference, the ones who believed in an ideal or were prepared to do whatever was necessary to protect others. The ex-soldier was going to make the boy see sense on this issue, though.
When Xander had finally cried himself out, he gave Aya a grateful squeeze and disentangled himself. The older woman had to admit she was quite…unhappy about that. She had felt a warm tingling when ha had made contact, which she had been unable to classify. It was resonating with something lodged deep in her memory, however. She let it go, knowing that trying to force it would only hinder the process.
"Boy, it just so happens that I was in a similar situation back in 'Nam. My squad had encountered a Vietcong patrol. They didn't fight us though. They told us to turn and run, as fast as possible. They claimed that death was following them. We offered to help, 'cos whatever scared Charlie in his own damn jungle, we knew wasn't going to be pretty. So we laid an ambush. An hour later, everybody's dead but me and a VC by the name of Ao. I had used all my Ammo for my M16, while Ao had run dry of bullets for his AK-47. He pulled a combat knife and I slapped on my Bayonet. We ended up going hand to hand with two Vamps. We took down one, but the other killed Ao and had me dead to rights. 'Till I shot him in 'tween the legs with my .45. Then I beheaded him with my Bayonet."
Xander winced at that, unconsciously crossing his legs.
"I got back to the front line a day later. During that time I had been forced to kill two of my own men who had been turned. It was a difficult thing to do, boy. Kill men whom I had been closer to than family. We ate together, camped together, trained together. I had to kill things that looked like them, talked like them, but weren't them. Y'see what I mean son?"
Xander nodded, accepting the moral of the tale. Only time would tell if he could truly forgive himself for the events of that night in the Bronze. Lecture over, Douglas returned to more pressing matters.
"Well, Aya, a friend of yours from the FBI e-mailed me about supplying you weapons, ammo and the like. Wanna see my collection?"
He had prepared a selection of armaments, including an old Luger, an M4A1, various attachments, such as the M203 Grenade Launcher, the M9 Bayonet, as well as extra clips for the rifle. A PA3 shotgun was also available. The most eye-catching weapon there was a Grenade Pistol.
Ammunition was also available, from 5.56mm rounds for the rifle to 12- gauge buckshot for the shotgun, to 9mm bullets for various pistols.
Xander also came forward to have a look at what was on offer. He wondered if Douglas would object to supplying Xander some Ammunition. He was in need of some .45 ammo for the SOCOM, as well as some 9mm for the MP5. When asked, Douglas thought for a couple of minutes before replying.
"Well son, this stuff isn't cheap. The people in charge of bookkeeping for the FBI are gonna reimburse me after Agent Brea has finished. I'm afraid that you're gonna have to pay f'r your own weapons."
Aya was checking out the various weapons with such close scrutiny, that she didn't even move at the mention of her name. Xander thought back to his award from the government after the Initiative had been FUBAR. When Cordy had found out, she had insisted he invest some of it and had been very vocal in telling him exactly where. Angel had had some excellent suggestions, having made no small amount of money during his two hundred and forty-something years. Xander smiled, amused at the question of money.
"I have more than enough to cover what I need. Question is, do you have what I need? I'll take some 9 millimetre bullets to start with, and some .45 calibre if you have them."
"The nines are right there. For the .45s, check the third drawer on the right hand side over on that wall."
Xander did so, finding a drawer of boxed .45 rounds. Once he had satisfied himself that he had enough of both types of bullets, he handed over the correct amount of money to his supplier.
Aya had settled on an M4A1 with an M9 Bayonet secured beneath the barrel, extending beyond the end of the gun. She also bought some ammunition for the rifle. That was when Xander heard it. A sound carried on the wind, one that was as familiar to him as the 'whoosh' of a Vampire dusting.
A scream.
Aya turned, meeting his eyes with an unasked question. He nodded once. Douglas did not fail to notice the interaction between the two.
"What is it?"
"We heard screaming. I'm afraid we'll have to leave rather abruptly."
"Go on, what are you waiting for!"
They had followed the sound of the screams back to the grocery store that Xander had parked close to. At ant other time, Aya would have commented on his car. Instead, she attempted to open the door, before nodding once to Xander. He drew his sword and slashed at the door twice, before kicking it down. They passed through the store without incident, pausing upon reaching the outside only to exterminate two ANMCs that lay upon the ground, dozing.
Aya entered the closest house, while Xander tried the door of the farther away house, finding it locked. Tortured screams were definitely coming from within, so he shook his head at the delay, before kicking in the door of the dilapitated house. He left his sword in his hand. Aya entered from the other end of the building, coming face to face with the woman making the bloodcurdling screams.
Xander noticed shock and…recognition or something similar to it, appear on Aya's face. The woman collapsed to the floor, dead. Then a hulking, simian man in a green assault suit with yellow body armour stepped into their vision.
Aya raised her rifle, seeming to place the intruder.
"It's you, from the Akropolis tower!"
"Huh? Oh, if it isn't the Fed! Fancy meeting you out here."
"Why did you kill that woman!"
"Woman? Take another look!"
Xander and Aya both looked at the dead woman's body, which was rapidly disintegrating, in exactly the same way as an ANMC would.
"I'm just like you, little girl. We both hunt, that we may live."
Aya took aim with her rifle. The ape-man spread his feet and drew a wicked looking sword. It was large, metallic and shone dully in the dusty light of the dilapitated house. Xander noticed that it was not merely a blade, but also had a gun, which served as a handle. A weapon that really shouldn't work outside of a sci-fi series, but which the guy in green hefted with menace.
"You gonna fight me? Our Mitochondria will have the last laugh!"
Xander stepped forward, bringing his MP5 up and raking bullets along the flank of the monkey man.
"Hey, assface! I heard George Lucas was gonna sue you for breach of copyright."
If Aya hadn't been concentrating on killing this freak, she would have burst into laughter. It was true, the big guy sounded exactly like Darth Vader when he breathed.
As the big swordsman turned to gauge this newcomer, Aya took the opportunity to begin charging a Parasite Energy. She selected Pyrokinesis, remembering that it had worked well for her the night before, against the same enemy. As Xander occupied the attention of the enemy by firing at him again, she continued to gather energy from her Mitochondria.
When she had reached the necessary level, she thrust out her hand and three fireballs were produced, one after the other, aimed squarely at the back of the monster she was fighting.
He screamed in pain as his back was assaulted, turning to aim his gunblade at the female responsible. Xander dropped his MP5; drawing his sword and slashing diagonally down the exposed back of his enemy. Aya then raked the humanoid with gunfire from the M4A1, counting on his greater bulk to shield Xander. It was a clever tactic, as well as a successful one.
'Assface' was barely phased by the rifle rounds, moving forward to bring the Federal Agent into striking range. His eyes widened in shock as she began charging Mitochondria energy and preparing to attack him with it. He experienced a Eureka moment, standing in that dilapitated house, riddled back and front with bullet wounds, his skin scorched.
"So, you're Eve's…Heh, heh, heh, ha, ha, hah, hah!"
Aya clutched her head, the name Eve bringing up all sorts of unpleasant memories. Her very cells seem to resonate, golden light shining from her outline.
Xander threw an arm over his eyes as she glowed brilliantly, burning 'Assface' in searing flames. He felt something deep within him stir in recognition of the power Aya was unleashing, despite the fact that he knew he had never encountered anything like it in his life. Then there was a shockwave of enormous force, which threw him back against the wall. He struck his head and knew nothing but darkness.
Meanwhile, 'Assface' continued to burn, screaming an unearthly sound as flames seared him in the most excruciating pain of his life.
Aya stopped glowing, slowly sliding down the wall to the floor, exhausted. She was unconscious before her eyes finished closing.
Xander awoke, several hours later. The sun was hanging low in the sky, pink light colouring the sky in hues that were breathtaking. Xander was tempted to sit and watch the sunset, but time was short. He looked around the room, in a daze. Pretty much everywhere in his body was aching, having been introduced to a wall at high speed.
When his eyes found Aya, lying against the wall, his heart almost stopped beating. He definitely forgot to breathe for a minute. One leg was straight; the other folded gently beneath it. Her gun was gripped tightly in hand, despite the fact that she wasn't conscious.
He managed to get up somehow and started to walk slowly across the room. His eyes didn't leave the still form across the room for one moment, his footsteps soft as if afraid that a loud noise might wake the sleeping beauty. He reached her and placed a hand on her neck to check her pulse.
It was slow, but steady. He was distracted by the softness of the skin beneath his fingers, her perfume again playing havoc with his brain functions. Aya still didn't stir. Xander was beginning to worry about her, as this was not normal behaviour. She should really have woken when he touched her.
His mind flashed back to one of the after-patrol nights that had taken place earlier in the year. Tar and Willow had cast a lot of spells in a short space of time and were running low on energy. They had fetched a tub of Baskin-Robbins ice-cream and a couple of spoons, before eating a large amount of the sweet snack food. Xander had made some comment about waistlines, at which Tara had laughed, before explaining that it would all be burnt up to replace the energy they had spent.
'The same thing must be happening here. Only Aya doesn't have any ice-cream, so her body is sleeping to restore energy.'
He decided to go back to the grocery store and grab some supplies, presuming that there was anything fit for eating left.
2 minutes and several rounds of .45 ammo later, a group of overgrown 'scorpions' as Xander had started calling them, the Scooby on sabbatical stood in the middle of the store with two bottles of mineral water and several bars of chocolate. This was the only stock left in the shop that Xander was prepared to eat, or to risk giving to Aya. He left a couple of dollars on the counter, hoping that the store owner was still alive to find them, then returned to the dilapitated house.
Aya was still lying on the floor, so he took a minute to decide exactly how to serve a bar of chocolate and a bottle of Evian water to an unconscious woman. That and he tried to burn this image onto his long-term memory.
It was unlikely he would ever get to see this woman sleep again, so he enjoyed it while it lasted. He sat down beside her and resolved to wait for her to wake at her own pace. Some women were not pleasant to be around right after they woke up.
Aya drifted slowly back to consciousness, enjoying the pleasant warmth at her side. She moved closer and let out a groan of pleasure as the warmth enfolded her. It was such a nice sensation. She opened her eyes and looked around. Why was she lying on the floor?
'Oh, that's right. The guy from the Akropolis was here. Xander and I trapped him between us in a pincer attack. Oh, Xander! Is he OK?'
She looked around again, failing to see Xander anywhere. The sun had gone down, the full moon slowly climbing into the sky. Then the warmth at her side shifted, causing her to look to her side.
'Oh, there he is. Mmm, just another minute. We'll stay like this for just another minute, then get up.'
True to her word, she was preparing to stand up a minute later when Xander snapped into wakefulness. He looked around and smiled when he saw Aya was awake. Then he shifted and brought something up from is side. Aya looked at the contents of his hand, a bar of chocolate and a bottle of water. Her eyes sparkled with amusement, so Xander knew he was in trouble.
"Is this your idea of breakfast in bed, Xander? That's no way to treat a girl."
He ducked his head and blushed at the implication that he had slept with Aya, (which the older woman found adorable) then responded.
"Well, it's more a case of quickly restoring your energy levels after you burned Donkey Kong to a crisp."
She took the offered sustenance with a grateful smile and a nod. It had been a long time since anyone had taken such an interest in her wellbeing, especially after seeing her Parasite Energies at work.
Xander was oblivious to Aya's thoughts, as he looked for the Extra- crispy remains of the late, lamented Assface. He couldn't find any trace that he had ever been here.
"We have a problem."
"What is it?"
"Look around, Assface is conspicuous by his absence."
"What! How could he have survived that last attack!"
"Maybe we underestimated him. If he shows up again, I'll slice and dice him. That usually works on these scientifically altered super- soldier types."
Aya gave him a puzzled look, before shaking her head and taking a drink of water. Xander took the opportunity to eat his own confection before washing it down with water.
"So, what's next on the agenda?"
"Well, I thought we could go back to Mr. Douglas and see if he has any information on the shelter. I also think we should restock on ammunition. There is no guarantee that the shelter will be free of monsters, or offer the opportunity to reload."
"Sounds good. Let's do it. Do you wanna take my car or yours?"
"We'll take your Firebird."
"A lady with taste. Practically perfect in every way."
"Aya Poppins. I don't think so. If you try and pull of an English accent, I will shoot you Xander."
They walked out of the dilapitated house, chatting amiably. Xander found it impossible to look away from Aya. The moonlight was catching her skin, giving it an ethereal glow that made her seem otherworldly. He was so busy watching her that he didn't even notice that they had arrived at Douglas' trailer. The first he knew of it was when Aya grabbed him by the hand and pulled him up the steps to the door of the trailer.
"Oh, sorry about that. I got kinda distracted."
"I noticed."
Douglas turned round as the door to his trailer opened and the two youngsters walked in.
"Hey there. Good to know you're alright. I went and marked down the position of the Shelter on that map there. Also, I never did catch your name, boy."
"The name's Xander Harris."
"Well Xander, I got something for you. A clip holder for that MP5 of yours, along with a couple of extra clips. That'll give you 90 rounds to play with."
"Thanks. How much will it cost?"
"Only a couple hundred bucks. Oh, Aya. Check that box behind you."
"Oh my! A Calico M950? You're going to give this to ME?"
"Sure. Why not? Its just been sittin' there gatherin' dust. The FBI'll get the bill anyway."
Again the two hunters stocked up on ammunition and prepared for the next encounter.
Aya then walked over to the phone and reported into head office. A frantic Pierce lectured her about calling into HQ at regular intervals. She was rather touched at his 'mother-hen' routine. Then he gave her the info he had managed to find on Xander.
"Aya, Xander Harris is a twenty year old former construction worker. He grew up in Sunnydale before going to Los Angeles where he has been working for a Private Investigation firm named 'Angel Investigations'. That was pretty much it for the FBI file. The Sunnydale PD had a file on him that they failed to provide us with, so I uh…kinda…well, hacked into them. They said that Harris had been involved with a local vigilante group since 1997. There is a high incidence of running battles with Gang Members on PCP. He is also suspected of having stolen a rocket launcher from the local Army Base and destroying (and I quote) 'a big blue monster dressed like a domintatrix' in a shopping mall."
Pierce had been hacking again. Well, at least this time it was for a good cause.
"I don't think you've quite finished, have you Pierce?"
"No. I also hacked some top-secret files on Harris held in a directory labelled Initiative. According to this, Sunnydale is a hive of activity for Demons and Vampires, which the Government were studying I order to find how best to kill the various species, as well as what kind of benefits could be derived from the different Demons. The last entry states that one Anya Jenkins was kidnapped and experimented on, as she was a former Demon. There were no genetic markers to indicate this, so she was killed. Her boyfriend, one Alexander L. Harris broke in to the labs, found her and was very angry."
"I'll bet he was."
"His psyche profile says he is unerringly loyal to his friends, as well as being in possession of a White Knight complex that would put King Arthur to shame. He also appears to have a strong attraction to powerful women. Apparently he destroyed a prototype Demon/Cyborg Hybrid on his own, before executing the scientist responsible. She had undiagnosed megalomaniacal tendencies, as well as other mental imbalances. The government awarded him enough money to buy a small island, which has been invested in various places and which is accumulating at an impressive rate. The same members of the Government 'encouraged him' to investigate Dryfield."
"Thanks Pierce, I owe you one. That's all I need to hear."
"From what I've read between the lines, if this guy is your friend, he'll move Heaven and Earth to help you. If he is your enemy, you're living on borrowed time. That's everything. 'Bye Aya."
"Good bye Pierce."
Xander was studying the map of the mesas around Dryfield, trying to find the safest path to the Shelter. He decided on one and marked it with a fluorescent highlighter pen. Then he yawned and looked at his watch, seeing the time. It was only half an hour since he had gotten up! It was really unusual for him to be this tired.
Aya looked across when Xander yawned, surprised by the sudden noise. Then she watched as a confused expression appeared on his face, half hidden by the arm being thrust in front of his face, in order to read the time on his watch. Ah, so that was the problem!
"Xander, if we've finished here, I think we should grab a couple hours sleep."
"Huh? Why's that?"
"Earlier we were unconscious, not asleep. There is a difference in the quality of rest. Now, get moving!"
She walked up to him and playfully swatted his arm. Xander saluted cheekily.
"Yes ma'am."
They walked out of the trailer, saying good-night to Mr. Douglas as they left. 6 minutes afterward they were climbing up the rope ladder and into Aya's motel room. Xander, ever the gentleman, attempted to make himself scarce.
"Well, I'll go and sleep in my car. Sweet dreams Aya."
"Oh, wait a minute, there was something I wanted to ask you."
"Go for it."
"Would you stay with me tonight?"
Xander almost swallowed his own tongue. He coughed several times, before bringing his shocked body under control. Aya watched, amused at his shock, trying valiantly not to laugh at his shocked expression. She knew that if she laughed, Xander would think she was teasing him.
"Could you repeat that please?"
"Will you stay with me tonight, Xander?"
"By stay, do you mean sleep in the same bed with, or…"
"Yes, I mean exactly that. I'm not talking about wild bouts of sex, I just want someone to hold me."
She looked away, casting her eyes to the moonlit sky outside.
"Ever since my Mitochondria awakened after New York, I've been alone. I've hunted NMCs as they migrated across the country. Do you know that NMC Hunters are supposed to work in teams? NMCs are too dangerous to take on without back-up."
She stopped, sobbing quietly as she released three years of pent-up anguish.
"No-one would work with me. Even before joining the Bureau, back when I was a rookie in the NYPD, no one could bare to look me in the face after the N.Y. Blockade incident. So I left, out of consideration for my former friends and colleagues."
Her shoulders were shaking now with the force of the sobs wracking her body.
"I've been so alone, isolated from everyone else because of my abilities. Even those that don't know me judge me, either because I'm pretty or because I look like a twenty-two year old. I am a twenty seven year old woman, with years of experience in killing things that make most people run away screaming in terror. Then you came along, a young man who didn't judge me by age, didn't presume that beauty and brains were mutually exclusive and didn't get scared when I used my freakish abilities. There isn't another man in the world like you, Xander Harris."
She turned and looked at him, tear tracks lining her face, he eyes clear, her skin shining gently in the moonlight, and Xander knew that when he looked back on this moment in the years to come, this would be the turning point. This was the identifiable moment when he fell in love with Aya Brea.
Xander had stood, allowing her to speak her mind, to exorcise three years of hurt, loneliness and rejection. He had waged a mighty battle with his instinctive drive to comfort someone who was in pain. Now that she was finished, he moved forward swiftly and enveloped Aya in a firm hug.
She hugged him back with an eagerness that would make oxygen an issue for a Vampire. She began crying again, feeling the anger and bitterness that she had hidden deep within all come flooding out, released by her crying. Xander stood still, rubbing her back and gently babbling soothing nonsense in her ear.
After an indeterminate amount of time, which could have been hours or minutes, they pulled apart. Aya looked up into Xander's eyes, seeing understanding and sympathy there, as well as something more.
"I'm sorry, I'm not normally such a cry-baby. Usually I would-"
Xander interrupted her, knowing exactly what she would say.
"You usually cover your pain with a joke before finding a private place to wallow in your misery. You save other people without a word of thanks, never acknowledged by your peers because you aren't like them. No matter what you do you just can't seem to make them see that you are just like them, with or without powers. You hurt, you bleed, you breathe the same air as them, and you eat the same food. Simply because you're different doesn't make you inferior to them."
She just nodded, amazed at this mans seemingly infinite capacity for compassion and understanding. How had he known those things? How could he have captured her life so perfectly with but a few words?
"I'm the same as you, Aya. The only difference between us is that I had no powers in a group filled with powerful people, while you have powers among a group who are powerless. Now, lets get to sleep."
He turned around and slipped off his coat, folding it neatly over an armchair. Then he shrugged out of his assault harness, placing it carefully in the same chair. His clothes were removed next, as he pulled on a pair of sweatpants. Aya grabbed her nightdress and walked into the bathroom, to give both herself and Xander some privacy.
When she emerged, Xander was already lying on the bed. She took a moment to admire his well-built torso, complete with scars. He likewise was distracted from attempts to sleep by the woman who was moving toward him. She was like Aphrodite, come to life from the pages of Greek mythology. She moved onto the bed and into his open arms, finding safety and security for the first time in three years.
Xander placed a single kiss on her head, to which she responded by moving in closer to him.
They were both asleep within minutes.
Xander was enjoying himself very much. Well, he would have been, if he were awake. He was sleeping soundly, perfectly content, Aya Brea's slender form pressed tightly against him. They had lain like this for several hours. Xander was rudely awakened from his slumber by a strong feeling of danger. He had learned not to ignore this feeling, so he didn't even bother trying to get back to sleep.
Instead, he (very quietly, so as not to wake Aya) grabbed his sword, walked out onto the balcony and down the rope ladder, before beginning his morning exercises. After running through his warm-up, he moved on to the more strenuous exercise routines.
Once he had finished these he moved onto the various sword kata that Angel had taught him. That probably wasn't the right phrase to describe the techniques by, but as a Highlander fan, Xander was going to call them that regardless. Once he had finished his various routines, he climbed back up the stairs and grabbed a fresh set of clothes. Then he stalked past the bed, toilet bag atop clothes, trying not to wake the sleeping woman in his room.
Xander revelled in the feeling of warm water washing off the dirt and sweat of another day. He kept the shower quick, hoping not to wake Aya. He stepped out of the shower and dried off, before brushing his teeth and shaving. Then he applied deodorant and dressed. When he emerged from the bathroom, he saw Aya sprawled out over the covers, including the space he had vacated.
'Looks like I can forget climbing back in there then.'
He grabbed his weaponry from the chair and shrugged on his duster. Then he walked over to the desk, flicked on the lamp and sat down, a rag and a bottle of gun-oil in his hands. He disassembled his SOCOM first, cleaning out any sand and giving it a damn good seeing to.
Once he had finished this he reassembled the weapon and reloaded it, before moving on to his MP5. That was slightly more complicated than the SOCOM, but it was eventually cleaned to the young Scooby's satisfaction. The strange feeling he was getting was slowly intensifying, as if some danger approached.
Then his P7 was given the same treatment. After all, what use is a backup gun that failed to work when you needed it? Xander finished his preparations, satisfied that everything was ready.
Then he walked over to the bed and wrapped his arms around a still sleeping NMC Hunter. He lay awake for another half hour, just absorbing the sensations of having someone in his arms. It was a nice feeling, no matter who the occupant of one's arms is. The fact that it was Aya merely sweetened the deal.
He supposed he really ought to feel guilty, or see this as a betrayal of Anya. He didn't, though. Anya had been his girlfriend, but feelings between them had been slow to develop. He couldn't even name any of her favourite foods, or what TV shows she liked. They had really been about sex. Anya's two pursuits in life were money and orgasms. In large quantities. It was nice to have goals in life, but Anya had approached them with a single-mindedness that was unsettling.
Aya stirred then, becoming visibly upset about something. He stroked her hair gently and held her close, but didn't wake her. He had read somewhere that waking someone in the middle of a nightmare is a bad idea, especially if they have guns or know how to fight.
She woke up on her own, hyperventilating and sweating, scared terribly by something. He held her close, gently stroking her arms. She turned and grabbed onto him in a crushing grip, as if afraid that he was a dream. Xander just pulled her closer, saying nothing, allowing her to calm down.
Aya inhaled the scent of the man in her bed, enjoying the potent mixture of his aftershave and his cologne. It was a scent she had never encountered before, so she savoured it.
"You need to get ready. Something is approaching, something dangerous. Go and have a shower, change your clothes and grab your guns."
She nodded, inhaling his scent one last time and trying to imprint it into her memory. Then she grabbed her toiletries and went to get ready. Xander boiled the kettle and grabbed some breakfast foods from the fridge, getting ready for the action packed day that was sure to follow.
Xander was sipping coffee when Aya came out of the bathroom, in her black and blue dress from the previous day, her denim jacket slung lazily over one shoulder. She grabbed the coffee he had prepared for her and took a sip, not speaking until she had drank half the cup. Then she ate the food he had left out.
"I left something in the boot of my car. Will you come with me to get it?"
"Yeah, sure. Might as well stretch the legs."
She finished up her makeshift breakfast, rinsing out the dishes and handing them to Xander to dry and put away. Then they headed out to Aya's car.
She fiddled with something in the boot as he watched her back. There were no enemies in the area, so Xander took the opportunity to check out Aya's back in the most literal sense, as well as the rest of her. She leant further into her TARDIS-like boot, searching for Lord Lucan, or Shergar, or perhaps Jimmy Hoffa or Elvis. As she moved, Xander almost choked on his own tongue.
Her legs were bare from the middle of her thighs to her calves where her brown boots began, while the dress was clinging to her derriere, following every curve perfectly. It had shifted when she had moved, giving her younger companion a breath-taking view of soft white skin.
Xander ripped his eyes away from her body as his cheeks turned crimson, scolding himself for acting like a teenager. Aya straightened out of the trunk of her car with a big, powerful looking revolver and a box of bullets. He identified the bullets as .44 calibre, but they were jacketed and tipped in a way that was unfamiliar. A silver bullet, tipped with metallic purple. As she fiddled with a brown shoulder holster, Aya answered his unasked question.
"It's a .44 Mongoose. These bullets are Maeda specials, NMC killers loaded with specially designed mitochondria."
"There a reason you were capping ANMCs with 9 millimetre when you were packing a .44? "
"Yeah, it's really expensive and takes time to cultivate the Mitochondria, so we use them sparingly."
"Fair enough."
She then placed her M93R into the car and loaded up the M950. Her M4A1 was slung over her back on a strap, while the Mongoose was holstered in a shoulder holster her thigh holster now empty. Her M950 went to her left hip.
They went back to her hotel room and watched television. Neither said anything when Aya sat down on the bed, Xander's arms wrapping around her. They stayed like this in comfortable silence, preparing for the day ahead. There would likely be much chaos and bloodshed before the end of the day. They were about to head into the lion's den, where the ANMCs had been created.
There was a minor vibration then, which caused the attention of the two hunters to shift from the TV to each other.
"Um, Aya, did the building just shake?"
"Yeah. I felt the same thing. We aren't exactly on a fault line here. What could have caused it?"
There was an explosion outside, as well as the faint echo of a shotgun blast.
Aya and Xander got up from the couch and moved outside, not knowing what to expect. What they saw defied expectation in any case. It was an enormous monster, easily two stories tall. It was ugly as anything Aya ha ever seen, with a permanently open mouth that contained the business end of a flamethrower.
"This is not of the good."
"No arguments here, Xander. Suggestions?"
"I have a couple of ideas. I'm gonna go for its eyes. Try not to become extra-crispy in the meantime."
He ran off to set up for a shot to the monster's head. Aya shook her head.
"Extra-crispy? What is this guy, the reincarnation of Colonel Sanders?"
Xander was too far away to hear her, and too absorbed in his task to care. He drew his MP5, flicking the firing selector over to single shot, before carefully taking aim on the ANMC. Then he closed his eyes and activated that weird ability, concentrating. Only the gun in his hands registered in his brain, as his entire being was waiting for the signal that would mean it was time to fire.
Something in his head clicked, and he leapt down and to the left, firing twice. The first bullet hit home, damaging the big guy's right eye, but the second ricocheted off of its cheekbone.
'Shit! Bullet proof cheekbones! Why am I suddenly reminded of Spike?'
He flicked the MP5 over to full auto and lifted it to his shoulder, looking along the sights to the open mouth of the monster.
It opened its mouth and Xander fired, emptying his entire clip in a matter of seconds. It had no discernible effect on the Flamethrower toting fat boy, other than to piss it off.
Aya chose that moment to distract it by firing her rifle in a three round burst. The 5.57 mm rounds pierced the tough hide of the ANMC with unbelievable ease. Xander looked at Aya and saw that she was glowing slightly, as purple light erupted from the muzzle of her rifle with each shot.
'Must be one of her Parasite thingies. Pretty lights.'
He shook himself out of his stupor, reloading his MP5 and then letting it hang at his side. If he wanted to take this thing out, he would have to do it the old fashioned way. The fuel tank on this thing's back had given Xander an idea. He ran to the edge of the balcony they were fighting on and leapt, landing on the arm of the ANMC. From here, he quickly found his feet and ran up the arm, leaping the last furlong up to the shoulder of the giant.
Aya had stopped firing in shock at his breathtaking foolishness, but started again when Xander climbed over the shoulder and down onto the monster's back.
Xander meanwhile was trying, unsuccessfully, to slice into the fuel tank with his sword. The metal was far too thick. He moved back to the top of the fuel tank and went for the cap on top of the tank instead. After several failed attempts, he finally got the screw-on top to move in an anti-clockwise direction, subsequent twists encouraging it. It fell off the tank and rolled down the back of the beast, hitting the ground below.
Xander pulled out his SOCOM, unscrewed the silencer and placed the barrel up against the opening of the fuel tank. He squeezed the trigger once, twice, three times, then leapt off of the back of the ANMC as the fuel caught fire.
As he was moving through the air, the explosion he had begun took place, catapulting him further in a shockwave of displaced air. He kicked off of the approaching balcony and twisted in the air, before kicking his feet against a support pillar beneath the balcony to use up some of the kinetic energy he had built up. He landed on the ground in a crouch, pistol in one hand, sword in the other.
He stood, checked his immediate surroundings for danger, than put away his weapons. Gary Douglas was sitting on a bench, shotgun cradled in his lap, with his dog Flint at his feet.
"That was one big son of a bitch. Someone fetch me a goddamn wheelchair. I'm gettin' too old for this shit."
Xander laughed, having seen that the old man was pretty good in a combat situation. He had survived against that thing despite being missing a leg, and only having a shotgun as weaponry. Aya emerged from the gate, having run all the way down from above them. She closed in on Xander and grabbed him in an enthusiastic hug, which the younger man returned with no small force.
Then she stepped backwards and slapped him, good and proper.
"You damn idiot! What the hell was that stunt in aid of?"
"Gee, let me think…it was in aid of killing the big, fat ANMC that was laughing off my bullets?"
"Don't take tone of voice with me Xander. If you'd waited, I was about to break out some offensive Energies. I couldn't very well do that with you playing piggyback!"
"Well, I do apologise for not reading your mind before I put my obviously inferior plan into action!" In a quick change of mood that shocked even Xander (who had witnessed some pretty mercurial mood changes around Cordy, Buffy, Willow and Faith, especially during certain times of the month) Aya smiling and placated, her rage defused.
"Good. Apology accepted. Now, let's get moving. I want to drive the Pontiac, so if you'll hand over the keys?"
Xander shook his head, realising that he was not about to win this argument. The knowledge that women always won, was one of the earliest lessons that being a Scooby had taught him. It was also true that no-one got this angry about something unless they cared, so he smiled, grabbed one of her hands and placed his car keys into it.
She smiled back, happy beyond words that he trusted her to drive his car. Aya was something of a car enthusiast herself, as her Plymouth Barracuda testified to. She gave him a kiss on his cheek and walked off, eager to get behind the wheel.
Xander put his hand to his cheek, touching the spot where Aya had kissed him, dazed. He was certain that the soft feeling of her lips would be branded upon his memory forever.
Flint barked, distracting Xander from his happy thoughts. The first Slayerette checked that he had everything in his pockets, and that none of his weaponry had fallen off during his acrobatics, then he followed Aya.
He reached the Pontiac and got into the passenger's seat. Aya was sitting in the driver's seat, letting the engine idle. It purred beautifully, as they just sat and listened to it. Then Aya put her foot on the accelerator pedal and eased them out of town.
They travelled through the night, following the map Mr. Douglas had given them. Aya pushed the Firebird hard, loving every second behind the wheel. Her face lit up with pure enjoyment, which Xander observed in awe. There was, in his opinion, nothing in the world more beautiful than a woman enjoying what she was doing.
They arrived at the shelter some time later, coming to a halt in front of two very large solid steel doors. Aya parked the car and walked out, retrieving her guns from the back of the car. Xander had not removed his weaponry, so after grabbing a couple of Twinkies from his glove compartment, he walked up to the green metal doors and inspected them. The only way he could se to open them was a switch on the left hand side of the door. He was about to take a chance and press it, when the doors opened of their own accord.
"Damn it, I hate it when they do that. Like a Hammer Horror movie. The Big Bad always has to extend an invitation."
Aya came up beside him, looking at the door with open curiosity.
"Well, do we go in?"
"I suppose so. Nowhere else to go, in any case. Other than back to Dryfield."
"I'm not happy about going in the way that's just been opened for us. It's far too much like bait for a trap in my opinion."
"Yeah."
They shared a look, before pressing ahead anyway.
Aya took a deep breath and walked forward, one hand on her M950, ready to draw it at the slightest provocation. Xander followed, his MP5 in hand. Unlike Aya, he was unwilling to wait for a reason to draw. Years of fighting things stronger and faster than him had taught him not to be fumbling for a weapon when in a fight.
They walked past a room filled with containers, all earmarked for a place called 'Neo Ark'. Xander recognised some of it as materials for construction, other stuff for gardening and such like. Gardening was an understatement. If Xander was reading this right, they wanted to make the Amazon rainforest look small. Someone seemed to want to make a jungle in their backyard, which seemed kinda unusual, considering they were in the middle of the Mojave Desert.
They passed through the next set of enormous doors and into a small passageway, which had a door leading to the left and a door leading to the right. They checked the right door and found a dead end, containing the locking mechanism for, they presumed, the front door.
The door on the left led to a pedestrian walkway, after which they walked along a wide road, which led into a car park. The car park exited onto a walkway, where a large walk in freezer was situated. Xander pulled the handle, which was locked. Then he tried to peek into the room through the glass window, but it was so badly frozen over, he couldn't see a thing.
He abandoned the idea and followed Aya through the door she had opened. As they walked through the connecting corridor. There was a strange buzzing sound as they walked through.
Xander hit the deck, dragging Aya with him, as the hall was filled with gunfire. Aya looked around, trying to see where it had come from, when she was distracted by Xander opening fire. There was a small explosion above them, and Aya finally figured out what had shot at them.
Security cameras, which had weaponry attached. This was extremely hi-tech stuff, that didn't officially exist yet. There was a flash as another device fired on them. Aya twisted to the side as a red laser beam struck the ground beside her. She stared in shock at being under fire from a sci-fi weapon, before pulling hr M950 off her belt and returning fire.
Xander stood, Aya climbing to her feet with him. They stood back-to-back, firing at targets on opposite sides of the room, covering each other's back. When the final camera had been shot beyond repair, they turned and looked at each other.
"OK, am I the only one slightly freaked out by having walked into a Star Wars episode?"
Aya smiled, some of her shock dissipating at Xander's humour.
"No, I'm a little freaked as well. Lasers are pretty advanced stuff, especially when you consider the energy levels needed to operate one strong enough to emulate the effects of sci-fi weapons."
"Well, if we can avoid the scientific techno-babble, I'd like to scoot before Robbie the Robot finds out we killed his little brothers."
Aya shook her head at his antics, still unable to believe he had a pop-culture reference for every situation. They resumed walking through the hallway. The room they emerged in was a large, white coloured walkway, with doors at the top and bottom, as well a door on the left and right sides. The door on the left was signposted 'Armoury' so the two hunters made a beeline for it.
They walked into a sterile metal room, with enormous lockers on the wall, and a weaponry dispenser on the far wall, beside a desk that ran along one wall.
There was a fenced off section containing weaponry and ammunition, which had a gate in front of it that required a keycard. Xander watched as Aya went to the dispenser and looked through the options. She pressed several buttons and was rewarded by a pistol dropping down. She shrugged and picked it up, examining it.
"SIG Sauer P229, tactical flashlight and silencer attached. Nice"
She loaded it and placed it in her thigh holster. Then she pressed some of the other buttons. Ammunition fell down this time, a box of 5.56mm rifle rounds. She pressed a different combination and a very weird looking attachment appeared in the vending slot. Aya picked it up and examined it. It was a heavy, large piece of equipment with a lens at one end.
Xander, who had been examining the various lockers, got bored when none of them opened. As he approached Aya, he noticed a sheet of A4 paper pinned on the wall next to the machine she had been fiddling with. As he read it, he became increasingly amused.
"Aya, you didn't happen to notice the instruction manual for this thing on the wall next to you, did you?"
She looked at him sideways, shaking her head. He put an arm round her, ready to continue teasing her, when he noticed what she was holding.
"Ooh! Shiny!"
She handed it over, before looking at the instruction sheet. She retraced which buttons she had pressed and found the description of her new attachment, mumbling slightly as she absorbed the information.
"M4A1…Javelin…attachment."
She slung her M4A1 off her back and detached the Bayonet. Xander handed her back the laser and she set about attaching it. It took her several minutes to get the device attached, but it was eventually done to her satisfaction.
Xander was looking through the sectioned area, gazing at the various things lying around. The expression on his face was almost wistful, as Aya turned to speak to him. That was when she noticed the little symbol on the side of the card reader. It was familiar; something she had seen recently had contained the same symbol.
The card she had picked up from the Akropolis Tower! She patted down her jacket, trying to find where she had put the key-card. She dug it out and gently nudged Xander, who moved to the side. When she swiped the card through the reader, a small red LED flicked off and the green one beneath it lit up.
Xander was through that door in a flash, examining the room with a curious eye. His gaze fell on the ammunition cases in the corner, and he went to check them out. There was a case of 9mm parabellum, as well as a case full of 9mm hollow points. Xander quickly emptied his MP5 clips of 9mm parabellum and reloaded them with the hollow points. He did the same with his P7. The final case contained 12-gauge Buckshot rounds, which he left as they were.
Aya followed his example and reloaded her weaponry with Hollow points. She walked off to look at another section of the room and found a Franchi SPAS-12 shotgun lying ready for use. She picked it up, deciding that Xander could probably do with another weapon. Two pistols and a 9mm submachine gun don't cut it against a horde of NMCs.
Xander was still checking out the pieces of equipment and paperwork that littered the workbench, when his eye was drawn to a piece of glinting metal, half submerged in an avalanche of paper. He pushed the paper to one side and was shocked by what he saw. It was the single biggest handgun on the market. Everyone who has ever seen an Arnold Schwarzenneger movie knows this gun.
A large, stainless steel Desert Eagle. Brown wooden grips, with little golden medallions in the centre, engraved with an eagle symbol. Xander checked the writing on the slide, checking the calibre. Then he pressed the clip release and looked at the clip. 7 rounds.
That meant it was a .50 calibre, using the Action Express rounds. Xander whistled, impressed by his good fortune. He looked back at where the gun had been lying and cleared a space on the workbench. There were three extra clips of .50 A.E. strewn around the surface of the bench. That brought his total number of rounds up to 28.
Xander rearranged his combat harness, slipping the clips into position and slotting the Desert Eagle into a side pocket on his duster, where it rested comfortably. He rearranged the MP5 and the other ammunition on his harness so that it all balanced properly. Then Aya walked around the corner with a shotgun and offered it to him.
"What's that for?"
"It's for you. Y'know, close range firepower? Better than what you've got at the minute"
Xander drew the Desert Eagle and handed it over to Aya. She examined it for a moment before returning it to him. Then she smirked, a mischievous glint entering her eyes.
"You can't use that, Xan. Haven't you seen the Matrix? That's a Bad Guy gun."
"Well, who better to rescue it from the Dark Side than me?"
"Well, I don't know…"
She made a show of looking him over.
"You're a little scrawny compared to Arnie. You sure you can handle such a big, manly weapon?"
"I'll have you know, Agent Brea, that I am considered something of a manly man back in Sunnydale."
"Well, I'll have to take your word for it, I suppose."
"Yeah, unless you get someone at M.I.S.T to check up on me next time you phone in."
Aya stared at him in shock.
"How did you know that?"
"Oh, really, Aya. It wouldn't speak very highly of your skills if you had just accepted my story at first hearing. I would be rather unimpressed if you hadn't done a background check on me. So, did you find anything interesting on old Sunnyhell?"
"Well, we found out pretty much everything. Demons, Vampires, the Hellmouth, the Initiative. Even the fact that you are a very rich man, as well as having moonlighted for a P.I. firm in L.A."
"Well, that's very impressive. I hadn't thought you would dig quite that deep. Some of that should probably have been hidden by some hefty firewalls and cut-offs."
"It was, but we have a computer expert who was a very talented hacker in his youth."
"Ah, that explains it. I have a friend back in the 'dale who was a pretty well known hacker in those circles."
"I just have one question."
"Ask away."
"What is the Hellmouth?"
"Well, I'm probably the wrong person to ask. I can only give you a very basic answer. The Hellmouth seems to be a portal to a demon dimension, where they were driven after humans rebelled against them. It's also an energy field that attracts Demons and Vampire like moths to a flame."
"An energy field?"
Xander had no more to add to his explanation so he shrugged, then took the shotgun that had been proffered and checked it out. It was loaded with buckshot, but Xander felt that this was inadequate to take out any foe that he might come up against. It didn't guarantee a kill on an enemy. It would do more damage than a pistol round, if he got close enough. Perhaps there was some other ammunition available from the dispenser?
He walked past Aya, who followed him, her curiosity aroused by his actions. Xander stopped beside the dispenser and read over the instructions, before pressing several of the buttons. A box of 12-gauge slugs dropped down, which Xander gratefully accepted. Another sequence of buttons was pressed and a red box fell down into Xander's waiting hands.
'Slugs are a better proposition for taking out an enemy. They're like really big bullets, whereas Buckshot is a cylinder filled with little pellets. Then we have incendiary rounds. These beauties will set the target on fire. That would have come in useful back in Sunnydale.'
The SPAS-12 held seven shells. It was also a pump action shotgun. While you got the immensely satisfying *chu-chink* after every shot, you had to wait a second for the next round to chamber. That could leave you vulnerable. Anyway, Xander was satisfied with his variety of ammunition.
He went to affix the ammo onto his harness, when he realised that he didn't have enough space left. He patted down the pockets of his Duster. There was the Vamp-killer kit, which consisted of a Zippo Lighter, a bottle of Holy water and several small stakes. Then there was one inside pocket filled with .45 rounds and another that contained 9mm. Then there was his combat knife. He removed the knife and placed it in his belt, ready to be grabbed by the handle and drawn at a moment's notice.
Then he tried to fit his shotgun shells into his pockets. They were too large to fit. He looked around the room for a solution. One jumped out at him, in the form of a wraparound ammo belt, which was suitable for wearing on a limb - the arms, or the legs.
'Hey, that's just like the little thing that Wesley Snipes stores his stakes in, during Blade! Cool!'
He wrapped one around his left thigh, slotting the slugs into it. Incendiary rounds went into a second one on his right arm, which he had wrapped around his duster sleeve. Any shells that didn't fit were left in his pockets as spares. The shotgun was placed on his back, opposite his sword
Now, ready to go and do a rather convincing rendition of the typical Hollywood one-man army, Xander grabbed Aya by the arm, swung her in front of him and kissed her soundly on the lips. Then he pulled away and moved toward the door.
"Lets Rock, Baby!"
He was brought out of his rather pleasant daydream by the repetitive drumming of someone's nails on a tabletop. He opened his eyes, to see Aya's amused expression.
"Uh, got a little distracted there. Sorry. What next?"
They walked out of the Armoury, Xander finding that his equipment had become substantially heavier after he had added the new guns and ammo. It wasn't enough to endanger him by slowing him down, but it would be necessary to take things easy until he got used to the weight difference.
"I plan on going through door number one."
Aya pointed to the door at the top of the walkway, in the direction they had come from. There was the door they had entered from, as well as a door directly opposite that. Aya was pointing to a door that was in between the two doors, directly ahead of them.
Xander walked with her, before branching off to the right, intent on investigating the section of this mysterious shelter that lay beyond the door. He gave Aya a hug, before moving off.
"Be careful Xander. These things are really dangerous. There may be more ANMCs running around."
"I'll be as careful as I always am. You stay safe, Aya."
Xander felt an indescribable happiness well up within him. Aya trusted him and his abilities enough to allow him to investigate on his own. No 'Xander, you're the normal guy' or 'Xander; we just want to make sure you're safe'. No more Donut runs, no more treating him like a mushroom. The Zeppo was dead, buried in the smoking ruins of the Initiative.
The metal doors closed behind him with a sharp hiss, jolting him out of his train of thought. He looked around, his hand tightly gripping the handle of his MP5. When an ANMC walked round the corner, he centred the sights on its torso. It was bi-pedal, walking forward in a shaky gait. This caused Xander to wait for it to come closer before firing.
The ANMC dropped far more quickly than he had anticipated, due to his recent upgrade in bullets. Xander waited to see if there were any more applicants for a dose of hot lead. When none appeared, he released his MP5 and walked forward, looking at the room he found himself in. It was a living quarters for staff of the shelter, as could be seen form the bunk beds along one wall. A computing magazine called Aeris monthly was lying in a bed marked 'Yoshida'.
There was nothing of interest in this room, so he walked through it, exiting through the door beside a set of large, heavy-duty lockers. The next room was filled with shelving. Xander wasn't even remotely interested in checking what the shelves contained. He paused as he heard a scuffling. Years on the Hellmouth had taught him to recognise the sound of claws being scraped against a hard surface.
He spun, his MP5 coming up again, centering on his target. The last bullets in his clip were fired, the empty gun being dropped before the shell cases had even hit the ground. His SOCOM cleared his thigh holster and came to rest on his target, which had fallen to the ground, writhing in pain. The pistol bucked as he fired, making little sound and even less muzzle flash, due to its recently reattached silencer. The ANMC began to dissolve, and Xander reloaded his SOCOM with loose .45 rounds from his pocket. Then he ejected his spent clip and loaded a fresh one. Then he reloaded the empty clip and reattached it.
The next room was an open floor, which led off to a narrower corridor. There was an elevator a little further over, which Xander decided to use. When he arrived on the bottom floor, he stepped out of the elevator and looked around. There was a door to his right and a path leading around the corner on his right. He chose to explore the path first, leaving the door for later.
He walked around the corner, wondering what he was likely to find down here. He advanced with typical abandon, his 9mm sub-machine gun drawn and ready to fire. It occurred to him that the old quote about warfare being long periods of mind-numbing boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror was entirely correct. It held true for his experiences in Sunnydale as well, so it would be appropriate to refer to the ongoing battle in that town as a war of its own.
'Hmm. A war in the shadows, fought in the darkness of night. That sounds so cool, even if it is a touch melodramatic.'
He laughed to himself as he reached the end of the path and opened the door that blocked further progress. There was another corridor down a set of steps, which led to a further door. On the far side of the room, down a steep drop could be seen a lower room. Xander ignored it for now, as it seemed to be merely a corridor between one room and another.
The next room contained a path that traversed the outer edges of the room, with a large sunken section in the middle. There was a gate at the far end, which was locked when Xander tried it.
'Looks like I should go back and try the door by the elevator.'
As he turned to leave, he was surprised to find he was no longer alone in the room. A large, wide ANMC with overly long arms and short legs was making its way toward him, stopping only to yawn occasionally.
"Where on earth did you spring from?"
There was no reply but for another yawn.
"Well, if my conversation skills are boring you, I'll let my little friend entertain you instead."
The MP5 fired, every shot hitting home. Motor-Mouth seemed unfazed, continuing to move forward. He, or maybe it, stopped and drew back, as if to strike. When it brought its arm forward, the arm stretched and moved towards Xander at surprising speed. Xander was so surprised at the attack that he missed his early warning. He could only pivot around the outstretched limb.
He abandoned the 9mm and drew his SOCOM and adopted a one handed, side on stance. He hadn't the necessary time to reorient himself and adopt the weaver stance. He squeezed the trigger and prepared to absorb the recoil.
Xander had to empty the clip into the fat Stretch Armstrong clone, before it fell down and died. After he had reloaded his weaponry, he moved back to the entrance of the room and left, his gaze dissecting each room for enemies, finding none. He looked down at his watch and saw that almost 30 minutes had passed since he and Aya had split up. He reached the elevator just as the minute hand on his watch reached the half-hour mark.
The door to the right of the elevator took him several minutes to figure out how to unlock it, before he could open it. After he stepped cautiously through the door, he saw another floor that branched off in two directions. One path went straight ahead, to a large double door, while the other went left to a more normal sized door. He stood still, weighing up the options, before his mind was made up for him.
There was a loud roar from inside the room beyond the double doors, followed by the thundering report of a big, powerful gun. Xander's mind supplied the unwelcome answer to the question of the shooter's identity, when it placed the report as that of a .44 revolver.
"Aya."
His face set in hard lines, Xander raced for the double doors. They refused to open, even when struck by his sword. There was a control panel to his left, a bright red light shining next to a dull green one and a switch below them both, which he pressed. There was another loud roar from within, which made Xander's movements frantic. The doors still refused to open. He could feel his anger and frustration growing as the seconds passed, as if his very skin was starting to burn up with rage and frustration.
He was reduced to helplessly banging on the door as if hoping to beat it into submission. He stopped moving altogether as a swan song sounded from inside, the mighty scream plainly audible even on the outside of the double doors. It was too deep and monstrous to be Aya, so he guessed she was alright. His head collapsed against the door in relief, his vain struggles against the mighty door forgotten. Then, as if to punish him for daring to believe that his torture was over, a siren started to howl.
'Warning: Incinerator activation in 5 minutes and counting.'
"Oh Shit! Aya, please be okay!"
This brought back terrible memories of all the times he had failed over the years to protect those he cared about. Jessie, Jenny and Anya were the most serious, though there had been lesser incidents with the rest of the Scooby Gang over the years. All at various times had been in danger and Xander had failed to save them, despite his best efforts.
It was usually Deadboy or Giles who waltzed in for a last minute save as Xander lay on the floor nursing a concussion, or broken bones. The thought of Aya dying, as he stood on the other side of a door from her, unable to help in the slightest, was almost enough to make him insane with rage.
There was a banging on the door then, causing Xander to take an involuntary step back. A voice sounded from within, the very voice he had worried he might never hear again.
"Hello? Is there anyone there? Hello? If there's someone there, please open the door!"
He looked at the control panel, which chose that moment to begin working properly. The red light switched off altogether and the Green light became bright. Xander punched the button repeatedly, as if his efforts would cause it to release Aya more swiftly.
An eternity later, to Xander's senses, the door finally deigned to answer his prayer and opened up.
He sighed in relief as Aya emerged; her clothes smudge with dirt, her Mongoose gripped tightly in one hand. She examined the room, her eyes drawn to a male form standing by the wall.
"Xander!"
"Wow! That was a close call, huh?"
"You can say that again! I almost ended up extra-crispy for real this time."
She moved across to him, intending to continue the conversation with a hug, when he stepped back, holding his nose.
"Oh, yuck! What is that smell?"
Aya lifted her jacket to her nose, smelling it. She almost keeled over there and then.
"Uh…I'm afraid it's me. I just had a fight in the garbage area."
"Damn, you walk in front and all the ANMCs will run for the hills!"
She glared at him, rather annoyed by his jokes at her expense. It had been a choice between poisonous gas and the garbage chute.
"Very funny. My sides are aching with suppressed laughter."
"Well, you look like you're in pain, but that might just be because you're smelling what I'm smelling."
"You'll be sleeping alone tonight, Xander Harris."
He put a hand to his heart, pretending he had received a mortal blow.
"Oh, how quickly they forget. I wouldn't want to share a bed with Aya the garbage Queen anyway."
She glared harder, trying desperately not to laugh at his increasing silliness. Then she coughed daintily and gathered her dignity and professionalism as best she could, while smelling like an extra from the trash compactor scene in Star Wars.
"So, what do we do now?"
"Well, the only path I haven't checked is the one off to the left from where we stand. Shall we check it out?"
Aya holstered her Mongoose and slung her M4A1 off her back and into her hands.
"Sounds like a plan."
They walked confidently down the path, each trusting to the other's skill and ability. When they reached the door, Xander opened it while Aya covered a field of fire from the doorframe. No ANMCs presented themselves, a fact which seemed to make Aya almost disappointed.
They walked through the room, which Xander felt was strangely familiar. It was only when he looked up and to the left that he realised he was now on the lower section that he had previously seen from higher ground. They passed through the room without any activity from ANMCs.
Aya opened the next door as Xander covered the entrance, then she went in, strangely excited. When they found an ANMC, she let out a soft 'Woo-hoo!' and aimed her M4A1 at it. She activated the secondary trigger for the Javelin and Xander stood in amazement at what the results were.
There was a loud humming noise as the Javelin activated, then a beam of blue light shot forth from the lens. The ANMC was pierced by the light and it screamed before dissolving. The beam of light had not stopped at that ANMC, however. It continued through the target to the wall behind it, causing scorch marks on the thick concrete.
"What the hell was that?"
"That was my Javelin. It's an experimental hi-tech laser, just as the Security devices were equipped with earlier."
"Laser? LASER!? That's not possible! Lasers can't reach the level of power needed to penetrate tissue! That's a Star Wars fantasy."
"Oh? Who says so?"
"My Physics teacher did when I asked him about the feasibility of Light-sabers within the near future!"
"Well, this place is pretty cutting-edge. It's true that the level of technology necessary to create a laser like this shouldn't really exist. Then again, neither should mitochondria or Vampires."
Xander held up his hands, admitting defeat.
"Okay, I give. I just can't win against you, Aya. You're some kinda lady."
She smiled at him, her head inclining slightly, as if trying to figure out exactly what that statement meant. If possible, she felt both amused and confused.
Xander moved forward, going to the door that lead out of the room. In the next room, progress was impeded by a large body of water. Aya looked around and spotted a control panel, while Xander headed for a scrap of paper taped to the wall.
"This is a numerical keyboard, which will open the floodgate elsewhere and allow us to continue on."
Xander resumed his inspection of the paper. There was a riddle that would likely surrender the correct number Aya needed.
"You have to calculate the total number of legs of the following animals - rat, spider and cockroach."
She had started counting on her fingers, an adorable look of concentration on her face.
"It's 18."
She looked at him quizzically.
"Hey, one of my oldest friends is a rat. This is a subject I feel strongly about."
She laughed at him and shook her head in playful exaggeration. Then she pressed the 1 and 8 buttons on the keypad. She was rewarded by the water being drained from the room they stood in. She and Xander descended down the nearby stairs to the section of the room that had until recently contained water. There was a gate on the far wall which they opened and went through.
Some of the water they had recently drained remained at ankle height, which they were forced to wade through in order to proceed. There was a lone ANMC waiting for them, which began to crackle with electricity as the approached. Aya merely aimed her M4A1 and fired the Javelin at it. After several seconds of continuous fire, the ANMC fell to the floor and dissolved.
There was another gate behind them, as well as a ladder further on. When they tried the gate, it was locked, forcing them to use the ladder instead. As they emerged from the dark tunnel, Xander groaned and slapped his forehead.
"What is it?"
"I was in this room before I went to check the one you ended up in."
"Oh? Did you check up here?"
Aya pointed to her left, to a small side path, which had a panel on the far wall. Xander had failed to notice this in his previous trip through the room, having been distracted by Fatboy. They walked up the path, Xander covering the water that had been moved to this room. Obviously the flood gate connected this room and the one they had just come from.
"This refers to the 15th night, a Japanese tradition, which is related to the full moon and its apparent good luck. The number to enter must be 15, then."
Xander nodded in agreement with Aya's logical deduction. He certainly wouldn't have been able to guess that one.
"Will we go back and explore beyond the Full Moon Gate, then?"
"You're the Fed. I'm just supporto-guy."
They returned to the gate and opened it, cautiously stepping through it to the other side. Aya's breath hitched as she recognised where they stood.
"What is it?"
"This is the path underneath the well in Dryfield!"
"Wow. That was unexpected."
She spared him a sidelong glance, trying to detect if he was serious or not. He seemed too be sincere, so she took his statement at face value. They climbed up the rope that Aya had used earlier, coming up from the subterranean area and emerging outside Mr. Douglas' scrapyard.
Xander thought for a minute on how they should proceed.
"Why don't you go back to your room and clean up. I'll go check on Mr. Douglas. Meet me there."
Aya nodded, going toward the door that would lead back to her motel room. Xander walked into Douglas' building and threaded through the building, trying to avoid making a mess.
'Why do buildings always look different in the dark?'
He eventually found his way to Mr. Douglas' trailer, a great deal more slowly than he would have liked. Flint was silent, so Xander assumed he was elsewhere. He stepped up to the door and tried the handle, which caused the door to open and admit him. There was the familiar sound of a pump-action shotgun being readied, which caused Xander to stop moving altogether. A gruff voice came from in front of him.
"Is that you, Harris? How in tarnation did you get back here so quick? You musta turned round as soon as you arrived at the shelter!"
"Not exactly, Mr. Douglas. It turns out the shelter has one or two surprises. There's a bottom section that leads to the well under Dryfield."
"No Shit?"
"I kid you not, sir."
Douglas stroked his chin with one hand, deep in thought.
"So that's how the little buggers got into town."
"Yeah, that's about the long and short of it."
"Where's Aya?"
"She had a fight with a garbage chute. She lost, so she went to freshen up."
"Should I ask you to elaborate on that statement, boy?"
"Probably best if you don't, sir."
"Alright then. Sometimes ignorance is bliss."
Xander thought about that statement for a moment, before dismissing it. Sometimes ignorance was downright lethal.
Douglas noticed the new weaponry that Xander was carrying, his eyes drawn to the Stainless steel Desert Eagle as an errant beam of light caressed it.
"That's a real beauty, boy. Mind if I take a look?"
In response, Xander removed the Desert Eagle from his pocket and checked the safety, then handed it to Douglas. The older man nodded with approval, though whether he was approving of the gun or Xander's safety routine, the younger man could not tell.
The Vietnam veteran removed the clip and inspected it, before removing a bullet and holding it up to the light.
"Well, looky here. This is the .50 Action Express round. Most powerful bullet in the world. Did you know, no-one thought it was possible?"
"No sir, I didn't. I wasn't very big on guns 'til recently."
"Well, we can't all be perfect."
Both men chuckled at that. Douglas stopped after a moment, his eye flickering back to the bullet in his hand. He frowned, which Xander picked up on.
"Something wrong, sir?"
"Not wrong, just not what I expected."
"What is it?"
"The tip of the bullet should be a pale yellow, almost golden. The tip on this round is a metallic purple."
Douglas checked the rest of the clip. Each bullet was tipped with a purple metal. Xander had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"Mr D, I need you to think very carefully before you answer me."
The older male nodded, his expression concentrated.
"Have you ever seen this type of work done on a bullet before?"
The recipient of the question thought hard, racking his brain for any instance of having seen this type of bullet before.
"I haven't, son. Not once in my life before today."
Xander sat down, his mind racing. If his suspicion was correct, there was a big problem.
"I have seen similar work done on a bullet before. Aya has a set of .44 calibre bullets tipped in exactly the same way."
"I don't follow, son. What's the problem?"
"The bullets were custom designed, with a very special chemical that poisons the monsters we've been hunting."
"You picked this gun up at the shelter, I presume?"
"The gun and the bullets."
"So whoever made the bullets has access to the same information as Aya?"
"No, I think it's more serious than that. I think that someone from Aya's outfit provided the shelter with the info."
Aya walked in at that moment, in a different outfit. A black leather jacket, navy blue T-shirt and blue jeans. Her weaponry hung in various places around her body. The atmosphere as she walked in was tense, as though the two men were discussing something they would rather not be.
"Wow. This is a really unwelcoming atmosphere. You want me to go out and come back in again?"
"No. Maybe you should grab a chair, though. You won't like what I have to tell you."
Aya followed Xander's advice, sitting down. Once she was settled, Xander tossed one of his .50 AE bullets to her. She inspected it, unsure as to it's significance. When a ray of light glinted off of the tip of the bullet, her heart leaped into her throat.
"No, no this isn't possible."
Xander nodded almost regretfully. Aya knew it was true, as soon as she felt the mitochondria secreted in the tip of the bullet.
"You have a security breach at M.I.S.T. Someone is selling your secrets."
Her expression changed, from shock to disbelief and then anger. She stood and walked over to the phone near the door, dialling her HQ.
"Pierce? It's Aya. We have a problem."
(…)
"I've just come across a set of bullets using Dr. Maeda's mitochondria."
(…)
"No, they weren't M.I.S.T. issue. They were .50 calibre action express bullets, for the Desert Eagle. M.I.S.T. only produces .44 calibre bullets."
(…)
The only response from her friend was a confused 'huh?' She sighed in frustration, having forgotten that she was speaking to Pierce. This man was to guns what Hugh Hefner was to monogamy. He had actually loaded a Revolver with 9mm rounds once.
"Look, Pierce, write the details down and get onto your magic box of tricks. Look through the M.I.S.T. records for anything suspicious."
(…)
"Yeah, I'll check in with you later. Try to avoid letting anyone else on this, will you? I don't know who we can trust."
(…)
"Yeah, see you later."
She hung up the phone and turned around, scrubbing her face with her hands. Now that the problem was being addressed, at least to some degree, it was probably time to go back to the Shelter.
Xander stood patiently, waiting for Aya to decide what to do next. The only real course of action available, other than staying in Dryfield, was to go back to the Shelter.
A look passed between them, which confirmed that they had both come to the same conclusion. They nodded, then began to move out.
Douglas just sat and watched, having figured out for himself that the two visitors would desire answers to the questions raised by the custom ammunition. The only place that held any hope of revealing answers was the Shelter.