From: owner-buffyfic@lists.xmission.com (buffyfic-digest) To: buffyfic-digest@lists.xmission.com Subject: buffyfic-digest V2 #376 Reply-To: $SENDER Sender: owner-buffyfic@lists.xmission.com Errors-To: owner-buffyfic@lists.xmission.com Precedence: bulk buffyfic-digest Tuesday, November 24 1998 Volume 02 : Number 376 In this issue: BUFFYFIC: Xander's Incredible Journey (7c/?) BUFFYFIC: ADMIN: List rules See the end of the digest for information on (un)subscribing to the buffyfic or buffyfic-digest mailing lists and on how to retrieve back issues. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Tue, 24 Nov 1998 04:43:31 PST From: "Cutter Kinseeker" Subject: BUFFYFIC: Xander's Incredible Journey (7c/?) TITLE: "Xander's Incredible Journey" AUTHOR: Cutter Kinseeker E-MAIL: ckinseeker@hotmail.com FEEDBACK: Yes! Yes! Yes! Tell me what you think, but constructive criticism only please. No "it sucks" type messages. DISTRIBUTION: Ask me first. RATING: Mostly PG-13 for language and adult themes. A couple of parts will be R. DESCRIPTION: In the aftermath of "Becoming," Xander sets out after Buffy and winds up "becoming" in his own right. Xander and Cordelia find themselves at odds in Las Vegas when they run across an old enemy. The "two mysterious strangers" from Chapter Five(e) are revealed, and they mess with Xander's mind. AUTHOR'S NOTES: For those of you who were waiting for the newest installation of XIJ, I'd like to apologize for taking so long. As you may notice, this chapter approaches 10,000 words in size! That took a long time to write, plus the fact that I had writer's block for a couple of weeks, and the power went down one day and I had to rewrite almost 2000 words of the story. But finally, here it is. Tell me what you think! DISCLAIMER: I don't own jack. Correction--jack's probably the only thing I do own. The rest belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and the Frog Network. SPOILERS: Everything up to "Becoming". S S P P O A I C L E E R *** Mornings were not Xander's strong suit. In fact, it could be stated honestly that Xander hated mornings more than any other time of the day or night; the only things that could rile him more were math and being stalked by evil supernatural monsters. Fortunately, his math class was several hundred miles away, and the only supernatural evil in town was being held captive in the next room with Cordelia diligently guarding him... Okay, now he was awake. In fear and panic over what he had done the night before--leaving Spike with Cordy? was he crazy? what had he been thinking?-- he stood and dashed into the other room, sure that he would see a broken chair and Cordelia's drained husk... *Try not to think about it*, he said to himself; *just take a look and make sure nothing's wrong.* Xander's hands shook as he pushed the door fully open, and he had a moment of nauseating deja vu as he remembered what had happened in Bakersfield. The room came slowly into view, like a tension shot from a cheap horror movie, revealing... Xander cocked his head to the side, unable to believe what he was seeing. A grin tried to surface, but he managed to submerge--just barely. Because there, in the center of the room, sat a table; on one side, Cordelia, and on the other, Spike, his body still bound to the chair but his hands free up to the wrists. Most unbelievable of all, on the table between them, several piles of cards. As Xander watched for a few moments, Cordelia laid down a card and Spike retrieved it, laying down one of his own; a euphoric look crossed Cordy's face as she began to lay down all of her cards in neat stacks. Spike growled low in his throat as she discarded her last card into the proper pile, a prim--if gloating--smile etched on her features. "Damn it!" he roared. "Not again! That's the tenth time in a row! Are you sure you're not stacking the deck?" Cordelia shook her head, losing her smile as she saw Xander walking into the room. "I kinda got bored," she said sheepishly, "and you were asleep. Can you believe this place doesn't even have cable?" Xander was unable to contain himself anymore and let loose his laughter, picking up Cordelia and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Well," she said, a new smile forming on her face, "good morning to you too." "It's my turn for ghoul watch," he told her kindly. "Why don't you go get us some breakfast, and then get some sleep? We can decide what to do with Spike tonight, after you're rested up." She nodded, went to the bathroom for a quick change of clothes, and returned, picking up her keys as she passed. At the door, she stopped and turned around. "What do want for breakfast?" she asked. "Well," said Spike unexpectedly, "a nice pint would hit the spot right about now..." "Nothing for our guest, I'm afraid," said Xander quickly, his smile turning to a moue of distaste. He turned to Spike. "I'm sorry that we can't offer you anything, but the blood banks are closed today." "Quite all right," Spike responded with mock politeness. "I'm sure I can go without another night... maybe." As Cordelia left, their eyes locked, a silent battle of wills raging between them. Walking to her car, she wondered what was going to happen to them all; she pushed such serious concerns out of her head as she started to calculate possible prices for breakfast and locales at which to purchase it. *** When Cordelia returned, she was shocked and dismayed by the sight that greeted her. The inside of her room was a tunnel of devastation, from the overturned table, to the shattered lamp, to the broken chair. She paused, looking at the scene; something about it struck her as even worse than usual, but she couldn't place it. Her eyes darted back and forth in terror as she realized what it was. Dropping the bags of food on the bed, her eyes continued to fixate on the broken chair; the only chair in the room, with torn rope and broken links of chain scattered around it. Spike was free. Close to utter panic now, she convinced herself that, since it was daylight out, Spike still had to be in here someplace. The thought did little to comfort her. She began to make her way across the darkened room, stopping only a moment to open the curtains and let the sunshine in. She started to call for Xander, softly at first, then scaling up to a full-scale screech of terror as she entered the other room. "Here," called Xander's voice from the opposite bathroom. "I'm in here." Cordelia made her way into the bathroom, expecting the worst, instead finding Xander sitting nonchalantly on the edge of the bathtub. He had an ugly bruise on the side of his face, but was otherwise unharmed. What garnered her full attention, however, was Spike: the vampire, probably one of the most dangerous and evil they had ever faced, lay unmoving in the tub, trussed up like Hannibal Lector, every appendage tied together and his face taped closed with duct tape. She opened her mouth in surprise, then closed it again in surprise, unable to think of anything to say. He just looked back at her with an innocent expression on his boyish face. "What?" Realizing that she would hardly accept the "Who, me?" route, he tried again. "Well, he managed to escape from his bonds, but utilizing my knowledge of martial arts and military tactics... What now?" he asked, seeing the look of frank incredulity on his girlfriend's face. Having tried innocence and false bravado, he finally decided to go for the truth. Downcasting his eyes, he said, "All right, all right... Boy, you sure know how to break a guy's ego--and without saying a word either..." He sighed. "I don't know why, but he let me win. While you were gone, I started questioning him again, mainly about Drusilla. I don't like the idea that we don't know where she is; one super-powerful vamp in town is bad enough, and by capturing him, we might have attracted her. After a little bit of that line sort of thing, he freaked out, vamped out, and broke out. "We fought--I still had that pool cue--and I think that I was doing pretty good right up until he faked me out and got a shot in." He rubbed the black and blue mark on his left cheek, a spot that was already fading to a mustard yellow. "I went down, hard, and I guess I blacked out for a minute. When I came to, Spike was just standing over me, not even really looking at me. He had changed back into his human shape and was just... standing there... with his fists clenched. He was shaking, and finally he just collapsed on his own. I never even touched him. When he fell, I tied him back up and put him in the tub." He looked over at his prisoner. "Maybe I overdid it a little. But anyway, I had just finished mummifying him when you came in; that's why I didn't answer right away--Spike's a lot heavier than he looks." Cordelia had been silent for the length of Xander's explanation, and now he saw on her face a look he found alien to her features: one of solemnity. As he watched her internally debate whatever she was thinking about, he realized that her face was much more suited to gaiety and lightness than to sorrow or serious matters. While it did not make her ugly--he didn't think that anything could make her truly ugly--it did detract from her charisma, and he realized why she was so rarely serious; it wasn't because she couldn't be severe or somber, it was that she had decided not to be out of vanity. He almost smiled at the idea, but Cordelia's words cut him off. "We should stake him. Now. Before he wakes up," she proclaimed in slow, even tones. Xander looked at her in shock. While he had staked vampires before, and he had even longed to stake Spike at one time, he had never done so in cold blood. Killing a vampire who was trying to kill you was one thing, but to kill a helpless opponent? That was murder, regardless of the species. As he was trying to decide how to put these sentiments into words that wouldn't ring hollow, he saw Cordelia leave the room, than enter again carrying the sharpened pool cue. She stalked slowly towards the prone demon, raising the makeshift stake slowly, the killing intent written across her grave face. "No!" yelled Xander, leaping into her path and snatching the cue from her hands. She struggled with him for a moment, finally relinquishing her hold on the cue to beat her tiny fists (he had never realized her hands were so small before) against his chest, tears of anger breaking out despite her best efforts to control them. She pounded on him for a moment, until he cast the pool cue aside and embraced her. She ceased her attack and simply laid her hands against his shoulders, her face pressing into his chest, her tears soaking his shirt, and they stayed like that for a long time. At last, however, their hold on one another broke, and they made their way into the next room to talk. When at last words came, it was Xander who spoke. "We can't kill him," he said, the look in his eyes making it obvious that he didn't like the idea at all. "Why not?!" she exclaimed, forgetting her need for quiet for a few moments. Xander glared at her, and she repeated her question in a lower tone of voice. "After all, he's tried to do it to all of us enough times. Do you remember the time I got stuck in a closet with Willow for twelve hours?" He did indeed remember, though he thought it prudent not to say anything. "Vampire raids, assassination attempts, helping Angel every step of the way..." "I don't think he was," Xander said quietly. "The only person Spike hates more than Buffy is Angelus. And remember, until recently Spike was confined to a wheelchair. I think he just finally got fed up with Angelus controlling the place--and Drusilla--and went to Buffy for help." Noticing the incredulous look on Cordelia's face, he went on. "He told us about that 'deal' long before we even knew about it; and if he and Buffy weren't working together--or at least, hadn't called some sort of truce or cease-fire while Angelus was a threat--then how did Spike get away alive? Or, as alive as he is, anyway?" "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!" Cordelia exclaimed. "All I do know is, Spike's evil--way eviller than I ever was. He kills people, he kills people for food! God only knows how many people he's killed so far, and if we let him go, how many more will he kill?" "Rats," Xander said with a mirthless chuckle. "Ever since Drusilla left him, he's been feeding on rats." He looked up at Cordy. "Before he clocked me, I managed to get some things out of him. Not anything he told me directly, but things I put together from his denials and his vague evasions. Apparently, he helped Buffy out by distracting Angelus at a crucial moment, then knocked out his own girlfriend. He pulled away all the guards from Giles so I could get in and save our friendly neighborhood Watcher. Then, while Buffy and Angelus dueled for the fate of the world, he put Drusilla in his car and drove away; I think he intended for them to go back to Europe, but something happened between Sunnydale and Las Vegas. Drusilla was still in love with Angelus, insanely so, and she figured that instead of helping her, Spike had betrayed her. She dumped him and ran off to God-knows-where, and for the last two weeks, Spike's been eating an alley rat every couple of days as a chaser for his booze. What do you think now?" Cordelia's face was a mask of pity and horror. She knew what it was like to love someone who didn't love you back, or to pretend to love someone just to get something they had. She had been on both sides of betrayal, and she now found it unpalatable. "It's kind of romantic, in a evil, sicko, Manson-family, hell-beast sort of way," she said. "But I stand by my original argument: he's evil, and he should be destroyed." Xander looked at her for a few moments before he made his final decision. "Let's leave." Cordelia looked at him in disbelief. "It's not our place to kill him, especially not as helpless as he is now. When he escaped, he could have killed me, but he didn't. For that at least, I think he deserves a chance. We'll pay our bill and leave, and just leave him in the room." She turned away from him and gathered her things together. As he watched her drift a little further away from him, he muttered, "I'm sorry," so low that he barely heard it himself. They left the motel a few minutes later, still in silence, with the inert body of their mortal enemy laying in the bathtub. *** "Hey, mister, are you all right," came the voice. He shook himself awake; it was well after nightfall. He checked his body and found it unbound. Looking at the source of the voice, he found an attractive young woman in her twenties, apparently a maid. How nice of her to untie him! She bent down to look closer at his face, exposing her ivory neck. He fixated on that throat, saliva beginning to drip in his mouth. She seemed oblivious as he leaned closer, his breath almost brushing her skin. Then, he stopped. Not knowing why, Spike stood up, pushed the protesting young woman aside, and ran from the room. Once outside, the hot night air only exacerbated his thirst, and he quickly looked for an alley where he could find a rat. Such places were common in this city, and he found a rat not long after. Chasing the slippery little fellow proved to be an exhausting task, but one which he enjoyed; if he couldn't attack humans--and he still didn't know why, but he couldn't--then the hunt was just as good, because it took his mind off his lost princess, his angel of the night. Slipping in a pile of wet garbage, he stumbled forward and would have crashed headlong into the wall, save that he was caught by the shoulders and hoisted back up. He began to curse the stranger, but stopped before he truly started; something about the man's eyes forbade anger. The stranger smiled broadly and began to speak. "I've got a proposal for you, Spike old boy. It's the same one I made to a friend of yours not too long ago, and I think you'll like it... though it might take a little longer to convince you than it did him." "I don't have any friends," said Spike bitterly. The little man in front of him roared laughter. "You do now," he said cheerily, extending one hand. Spike, not knowing what else to do, shook it. "We'll be hanging around together a lot, you and me..." he said as he led the confused Spike further into the alley. "By the way, since we're going to be friends, you should know my name. They call me... The Whistler..." *** Excerpt from the audio journal of Alexander LaVelle Harris: "Conscience is a funny thing. It can drive us to the heights of light or into the mouth of deepest darkness. It can inspire deeds worthy of saints or crimes as heinous as any devil. In the end, conscience is what truly defines us as human, because no other animal in the world has an internal concept of good and evil. But is that concept something that we develop for ourselves? Or is it a product of outside forces? A combination of the two? We may not ever know. With the right influence, maybe even an undead monster like Spike can find integrity and honor. "But if a man's conscience can overrule his judgment, who are we to say that our personal sense of conscience is the right one? I let my internal sense of right and wrong lead me down a destructive and selfish path once before, and I refuse to do it again. I cannot judge Spike, no matter the evil he may have wrought, or may wreak again in the future. I am not fit to be a judge; sometimes I think I'm barely fit to be human. "For a long time, I thought that Buffy's whole 'Chosen One' spiel was just some old legend made up to justify her abilities. Maybe it is, but it's also the truth. Whatever she, or those like her, were chosen by, it realized that normal people don't have the capacity to deal with horrors on a regular basis. We begin to rationalize, to judge things by our own standards--because those are the only standards we know. "This journey began as a way to purge my conscience, but now I know it's something more. I now realize that we have been guided by some outside force, possibly the same force that has always guided Buffy as the Slayer, possibly another, but definitely by *something else*. This trip is no longer just about salving my feelings of guilt at betraying my friend--though that is still a part of it--but it is now about conscience and about perspective. The power of the Slayer is not just physical; it is the power to be the conscience of the world, the power to keep a bigger perspective without losing the human one. Buffy is a powerful fighter, but her biggest strength is that she can make the tough decisions; not all the time--the early stages of the Angel crisis proved that--but usually. She can make hard choices and live with them. "But now, even she has lost perspective. And it's because of me. This search is not about me anymore; it's about saving Buffy from me, and from herself. It's about restoring her point of view, so that she can continue to do what she does best: make the hard choices. I've begun to think that maybe Buffy would be happier if we just let her stay away, if we let her live out the rest of her life in anonymity and peace. But we can't do that; she has a duty, and whatever force is compelling me to find her continues to drive that point home relentlessly. "Or maybe it's just my conscience." "End journal entry for June 1, 1998." END CHAPTER SEVEN Cutter Kinseeker - -Chieftain of the Wolfriders - -Holder of New Moon, artifact sword - -Slayer of the dreaded beast Madcoil - -Keeper of Xander's firm belief that he could take Angelus with the help of a bunch of orderlies, cops, doctors, and nurses (KBD) - -Keeper of Xander's derisive sneer at Angelus (KBD) - -Keeper of Xander's jaunty stake-whittling tune ("School Hard") - -Keeper of Willow's longing gaze at Xander while he talks about the unattainable ("Some Assembly Required") - -Keeper of Giles' masochistic need to spar with Buffy - -Keeper of Cordelia's divine request for aspirin ("School Hard") - -Keeper of Buffy's need for a warning label (KBD) "AYOOOOOOOOAAAAAAHHH!!!!" --Cutter Kinseeker "From famine to feast and back to famine again." --Skywise Visit the Holt of Cutter Kinseeker http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Chamber/2234/ ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 24 Nov 1998 12:49:46 -0500 (EST) From: sah Subject: BUFFYFIC: ADMIN: List rules Welcome! 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