ã€ŠFool of The Devilã€‹


 Welcome to Hell I

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    ?

    February 7, 1997

    Sunnydale, California

    The bright mid January Southern California morning was in full swing as Xander Harris made his way down the road towards Sunnydale High, the sun''s rays already promising another day of sweltering heat. His skateboard glided along the pavement at a steady pace, the wheels rattling softly against the asphalt. Dressed in an unbuttoned white semi-translucent short sleeve button up, a blue tank top and wrinkled corduroys, Xander embodied the shaggy indifference common to skateboarders. A light breeze ruffled his messy mop of black hair as he took in the sights around him.

    Students milled about on their way to school, some walking, others biking or rollerblading. A few cars pulled up to the curb, dropping off their teenage passengers before speeding off to beat the morning rush. Just another day in good ol'' Sunnydale, Xander mused, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

    As he continued down the street, his eyes caught sight of something unexpected. Glancing to the side, Xander noticed another boy riding a skateboard, keeping pace with him effortlessly. Intrigued, he slowed his own board slightly, taking a moment to study the stranger.

    The boy''s black t-shirt with red lettering and ripped jeans were nothing out of the ordinary, and neither were his well-worn basketball shoes. But what struck Xander was the teen''s appearance. His skin was a rich, dark tone, with full lips and a somewhat wide nose. Crowning the boy''s head was a wild mane of dreadlocks, the same vivid shade as fresh blood.

    Whoa, definitely never seen anyone like him around here before, Xander thought, his eyes widening slightly. He prided himself on not being racist, but even he had to admit that the boy''s unique features stood out in the sea of familiar faces. Despite its size and surroundings, Sunnydale wasn''t the biggest of places to live in, and its population was far from the massive throng of some of the bigger locales in Southern California. That in mind, new faces were rare and new faces like his¡­ even more so.

    As if sensing Xander''s gaze, the other teen glanced over, a lazy smirk playing on his lips as a pair of bright blue eyes seemed to look through him. With a casual two-fingered salute, the black kid kicked off on his skateboard, propelling himself forward with impressive speed. Xander watched in awe as the boy rounded the corner, his movements fluid and effortless, disappearing from sight in a matter of seconds.

    Dud... I''d totally eat gravel if I tried to pull off a move like that, Xander admitted to himself, a grin spreading across his face as something hit him. "New kid! Sweet!"

    Excitement bubbling in his chest, Xander kicked off, determined to catch up with the mysterious newcomer. He rounded the corner at a more moderate pace, his eyes scanning the crowd of students rushing towards the doors of Sunnydale High. Much to his disappointment, the new kid was nowhere to be seen, lost among the sea of teenage bodies and school day traffic.

    Aww, man, Xander thought, his shoulders slumping slightly. Undeterred, he wove through the thickening mass of students, his skateboard gliding smoothly beneath his feet. He slid past a short yellow bus and an Asian girl on a bike, careful not to hit anyone.

    "''Scuse me, comin'' through, pardon me, ''scuse me, whoa!" Xander called out, his voice carrying over the chatter of his classmates. "Not sure how to stop! Please move, whoa, ''scuse me..."

    As he weaved through the crowd, a flash of blonde hair caught his eye and Xander''s gaze landed on a pretty, leggy girl dressed in a short-sleeved white button-down, a miniskirt, and high-heeled boots. Damn, that combo should be illegal for school, he thought, his teenage hormones taking over.

    Unable to resist, Xander craned his neck to get a better look, openly staring as he skated by. So focused was he on the blonde beauty that he failed to notice the stair railing rapidly approaching. With a sickening crunch, Xander collided with the metal barrier, his body flipping over it and landing on his back with a painful thud. His backpack provided little cushioning as he lay there, grunting in agony.

    "I''m okay. I''m okay," he tried to convince himself through gritted teeth, the throbbing pain in his back suggesting otherwise. "I feel good."

    Through the slight haze of growing back pain he''d probably pay for in his mid-thirties, Xander noticed a pair of legs making their way towards him, penny loafers stepping carefully to avoid tripping over his sprawled form. Glancing up, he found himself face-to-face with a familiar face, a smile spreading across it as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

    "Need some help?"

    Willow Rosenberg, his best friend since childhood, stood over of him, her shy and bookish demeanor evident in her modest green dress layered over a white long-sleeved shirt. The old-fashioned black penny loafers on her feet were a telltale sign of the fact that her mother definitely picked out her clothes for today. Yet, despite her unassuming appearance, Willow''s eyes sparkled with intelligence, and her smile radiated a genuine charm that often went unnoticed by the shallow minds of high school.

    Xander''s face lit up, his pain forgotten as he grinned. "Willow! You''re so very much the person that I wanted to see!" he exclaimed, pulling himself up with his skateboard in one hand.

    Willow''s eyes widened slightly, sounding just a little hopeful as she replied, "Oh, really?"

    As they began walking towards the school together, Xander shrugged, looking just a little guilty. "Yeah. You know, I kinda had a problem with the math," he admitted, his tone sheepish but still casual.

    Willow''s shoulders sagged a little, her usual look of disappointment whenever he came to her with homework issues clear on her face even as she tried to hide it. "Uh, which part?" she asked, her voice steady.

    Xander shrugged again, still sheepish as he smiled wide. "The math. Concept, Essence, all of it. Can you help me out tonight, pleeeease, be my study buddy?"

    Willow''s eyes narrowed playfully as she tilted her head. "Well, what''s in it for me?"

    Xander''s face scrunched up in faux-thought for a moment before a grin spread across his face. "A shiny nickel!" he declared theatrically.

    Willow rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Okay. Do you have ''Theories in Trig''? You should check it out," she suggested, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.

    "Check it out?" Xander repeated, screwing up his face in legitimate confusion.

    "From the library?" Willow raised an eyebrow at him, turning slightly to the side as another student brushed past her, the bustling crowd of teenagers filling the air with noise. "Where the books live," she added, her tone teasing.

    Realization dawned on Xander''s face, and he nodded enthusiastically. "Right, right, I''m there! See, I wanna change¡­"

    As they approached the front doors of the school, a familiar figure emerged from the sea of students, in all his orange shirted, khaki shorted glory. Jesse, Xander''s best friend and a close enough companion to Willow, sauntered up to them with a goofy grin plastered on his face. Standing a good bit taller than Xander, Jesse somehow managed to be even more awkward¡­ which was quite the accomplishment.

    "Hey, hey!" Jesse greeted, his smile broadening as he clapped hands with Xander, hard and fast.

    Xander returned the gesture as he leaned into the bro hug, his own grin widening. "Hey, Jesse, what''s what?"

    Jesse''s eyes sparkled with excitement as he leaned in conspiratorially. "New girl!" he announced, voice clearly giddy and excited.

    Xander''s face lit up, mirroring his friend''s enthusiasm. "That''s right," he agreed, nodding fast. "I saw her. Total ten, talk about a hottie!"

    Beside them, Willow''s mood seemed to deflate once more, her shoulders sagging slightly as the boys talked about another girl. Xander, caught up in the moment, failed to notice.

    "I heard a couple of people were transferring¡­" Willow interjected, her voice trailing off as she glanced around the bustling schoolyard.

    Xander blinked, his mind briefly flashing back to his earlier encounter. "Couple? Oh, yeah. I saw this other dude on a skateboard. Black kid, dreadlocks, red hair," he emphasized, shooting Willow a joking suspicious glance.

    Instinctively, Willow''s hand reached up to touch her own long fiery locks, a small smile playing on her lips despite herself.

    "Relative of yours, Will?" Xander teased, his eyebrows waggling mischievously.

    "Haha," Willow retorted, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly as she did her best to suppress a grin. After a moment, her expression turned thoughtful. "But I do know something about him. My dad mentioned that they got a new young client. He''s an orphan, I think, from Los Angeles, and got a lot of money in inheritance. Kinda sad."

    "Yeah, yeah." Xander nodded, his face growing a bit serious for a brief moment before he turned his attention back to Jesse, who was still grinning like a Cheshire cat. "So tell!"

    Jesse stared blankly, his smile faltering slightly. "Tell what?"

    Xander raised an eyebrow, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "What''s the sitch? What do ya know about new girl?"

    Jesse''s grin returned in full force, his eyes sparkling with renewed excitement. "New girl!"

    Xander shook his head, a goofy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Well, you''re certainly a font of nothing!"

    Laughing loud, the trio stood in the middle of the crowd of students as they rushed around them, sounds of laughter, shouting, and the occasional slamming of locker doors filling the air. The sun''s rays streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the bustling hallway. Xander''s gaze wandered, taking in the familiar sights and sounds of Sunnydale High.

    As they made their way deeper inside, Xander couldn''t shake the feeling that something about the school was different. Eh, I''ll figure it out.

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    A few minutes later, Xander found himself walking down the hall, still in a good mood from his little powwow with both his friends. The bustling crowd of students filled the corridor, their chatter and laughter echoing off the walls as they hurried to their first classes of the day.

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    Suddenly, his eyes widened, and his heart skipped a beat as he spotted a familiar figure just a door or two down. It was the same blonde girl from before, her shoulder-length golden locks pretty as ever as she walked with a confident stride. Xander couldn''t help but stare, his mouth slightly agape as he took in the hottie for the second time.

    Damn, she''s even hotter up close, he thought, his mind racing with a thousand possibilities.

    However, his staring was cut short as another girl, too engrossed in her conversation with a taller black boy to pay attention to her surroundings, accidentally bumped into the blonde, causing her to lose her grip on her bag. The contents spilled onto the floor, scattering in every direction.

    "Oh! Sorry!" the blonde girl exclaimed, her voice tinged with surprise and a hint of frustration.

    The other girl, realizing her mistake, quickly apologized. "That''s okay."

    The blonde girl glanced down at the mess, her shoulders slumping slightly as she surveyed the damage. "Oh¡­" she muttered, her tone deflated.

    With a sigh, she knelt down and began scooping her belongings back into her bag, her movements hurried and clearly embarrassed.

    Xander''s face shifted into a grimace of sympathy, heart going out to the girl. Man, talk about a rough start to the day, he mused to himself, watching as she struggled to gather her things.

    But then, an idea struck him, and a grin spread across his face. Now''s my chance, he thought, his eyes sparkling with mischief and anticipation.

    Seizing the opportunity, Xander quickly made his way over to the blonde girl, squatting down next to her to assist in the cleanup effort. He reached for a stray pen, his fingers brushing against hers for the briefest of moments.

    "Can I have you?" he blurted out, his brain momentarily short-circuiting as he found himself in such close proximity to the object of his affection.

    The blonde girl looked up at him, her brow furrowed in confusion, and Xander felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

    Smooth move, Harris, he chastised himself, mentally facepalming at his own stupidity.

    Quickly realizing his mistake, Xander let out an awkward chuckle. "Duh... Can I help you?"

    The girl''s confused expression melted into a smile, and Xander felt his heart skip a beat for a second time this morning. "Thanks," she said, her voice soft and sincere.

    Together, they began gathering her scattered belongings, Xander handing each item to her without really looking, his attention focused solely on the girl beside him. He couldn''t help but marvel at her beauty, the way her golden hair framed her face, and the warmth in her blue eyes.

    "I don''t know you, do I?" Xander asked, trying to play it cool despite the butterflies in his stomach.

    The girl shook her head, her smile widening. "I''m Buffy. I''m new."

    Buffy, Xander repeated in his mind, committing the name to memory. Even her name is cute.

    "Xander. Is, is me. Hi," he stammered, mentally kicking himself as the words killed themselves on their way out of his mouth before they could form a proper sentence.

    Buffy grinned at him, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Um, thanks."

    As they finished gathering the last of her stuff, Xander found himself at a loss for words. He wanted to say something clever, something that would make her laugh and remember him, but his mind was drawing a blank.

    "Well, uh, maybe I''ll see you around... maybe at school... since we... both... go there," he managed to get out, words stumbling over each other in a jumbled mess.

    Wow, real smooth, Xander, he thought, cringing at his own malfunctioning brain.

    But to his surprise, Buffy didn''t seem to mind. She simply smiled at him, her eyes warm and friendly. "Great!" she said as they both stood up. "It was nice to meet you."

    Xander handed her the rest of her books, watching as she stuffed them into her bag. With a final smile and a wave, Buffy hurried away down the hall.

    "We both go to school," Xander muttered to himself, his voice dripping with self-admonishment. "Very suave. Very not pathetic."

    He reached out for a moment, as if to call her back, before clenching his hand into an embarrassed fist. Way to go, Harris. You really know how to make an impression.

    But then, something caught his eye. A small object still lay on the floor, forgotten in the chaos of their encounter. Without really paying attention, too focused on Buffy''s retreating backside to truly divert his focus, Xander bent down to retrieve it.

    "Oh, hey!" he called out, rising to his feet with it in hand. "Hey, you forgot your¡­"

    As he looked down at the item, his words trailed off, and his eyebrows mashed together in confusion. In his hand, he held a wooden stake, its surface smooth and worn.

    A stake? he thought, turning the object over in his hand. The hell is she doing with a stake?

    But Buffy was already too far away, the noise of the crowd swallowing his words. Xander stood there, holding the stake, glancing at it with confusion written all over his face, and his mind racing with a thousand questions.

    "Wow, a bonafide vampire hunter," a voice came from behind him, calm and drawling, breaking Xander out of his confusion-induced daze. "This school has everything, doesn''t it?"

    Xander whirled around, eyes wide with surprise as his mouth moved on instinct, the words tumbling out before he could even think. "I wouldn''t let the school take credit. That''s all me." His gaze landed on the speaker, and his eyes widened further as recognition dawned on him. It was the same kid he had seen skateboarding earlier, the black kid with the red dreadlocks and bright blue eyes.

    The speaker in question raised an eyebrow, one hand lazily playing with a single lock of his blood-red dreads, and smirked at Xander. "That''s crazy, homie. Do tell."

    Xander blinked, his brain taking a moment to catch up with the situation. Well, look at you, Xander. Barely even started the day, and you''re already the talk of the town. Or at least the talk of the mysterious new kid. "Yeah, y-yeah¡­" he paused for a moment, his mind racing to come up with a clever response. Come on, Harris, don''t let the joke die now.

    With a sudden burst of confidence, Xander barreled on, his voice taking on a faux-serious tone. "I come from a long line of Hellsings, actually. It''s in my blood."

    The red-haired boy''s smirk shifted into a grin, his white teeth somehow even brighter than his striking blue eyes. "Really?" he shot back, voice dripping with amusement. "Your blood?"

    Xander nodded his head, crossing his arms in a mock-serious manner. "Well, it''s in my head, and that''s good enough for me," he finished, barely suppressing the urge to laugh at his own joke.

    The boy with the red dreadlocks let out a loud laugh, the sound echoing through the bustling hallway, and held out his fist. "You''re killing me with this, homie."

    Xander smiled back, his free hand reaching out to complete the fist bump. Looks like I''m not the only one with a sense of humor around here.

    "Killing you? What, don''t tell me you''re a vamp? In SoCal?" Xander quipped, his eyebrows waggling mischievously. "What kinda crazy SPF do you use?"

    "Nah, homie," the other teen answered, still chuckling. "Not a vamp. That would definitely be awkward, though." He paused, his grin softening into a genuine smile. "You''re cool, bro."

    Xander felt a warmth spread through his chest at the compliment. It wasn''t often that he found someone who appreciated his particular brand of humor. "Thanks, you''re pretty cool yourself, uhhh¡­" he trailed off, gesturing for the other boy to introduce himself.

    "Sam. Sammy, if you feel like it ," the red-haired teen supplied, his name rolling off his tongue with an easy confidence. "Short for Samuel Lucius Ash the Sixth."

    "Nice name. I''m Xander. Hold your applause, though," Xander responded, raising both hands up, palms facing Sam in a mock-surrender. "It''s short for Alexander Lavelle Harris."

    Sam raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of amusement and disbelief. "Lavelle?"

    Xander sighed, his smile becoming less genuine and more bitter as he continued. "Yeah, don''t know what the ''rents were thinking. Must have been drunk."

    "Must have," Sammy agreed with a slow nod.

    A thought suddenly struck Xander, and he couldn''t help but blurt it out. "Hey, I saw you skating earlier. How''d you get so good, man?"

    Samuel''s lips curled into a smirk, his blue eyes twinkling. "Years of practice, homie. But I can give you some tips if you want."

    Xander''s face lit up, excitement coursing through him at the prospect of learning from someone who clearly knew their stuff. "Sweet!"

    Reaching into his pocket, Sam pulled out a sleek black business card with red lettering. He handed it to Xander, who took it with a curious expression. "Here''s my card."

    Xander glanced down at the card, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. In large print, it read "Odd Jobs and Services for a Good Deal," followed by Sam''s full name and number. Flipping the card over, he noticed a strange circular logo with odd symbols etched within.

    Unable to contain his amusement, Xander let out a laugh, his face pulling into a comical expression. "You have a card? You have a business?"

    Sam smiled softly, his eyes glinting with a hint of challenge. "So you don''t want the tips?"

    Realizing his mistake, Xander quickly pocketed the card, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "I didn''t say that," he laughed, trying to play it off.

    "Well, I gotta head to my first class, Xan Man. Be seeing ya, homie."

    With a final nod and a casual wave, Samuel turned around and walked away, his dreadlocks swaying with each step. Xander watched as the other teen rounded the corner, disappearing from sight.

    "Yeah¡­ be seeing ya," Xander mumbled, glancing down at the stake still clutched in his hand. What a way to start the day, he thought, shaking his head in disbelief.

    A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he tucked the stake into his back pocket, the weight of it a reminder of the strange encounter with Buffy. Look at you, Xander. Talking to two new kids on their first day. You bonafide social butterfly, you.

    As he turned to head to his own class, he failed to notice a pair of piercing blue eyes staring at his back.

 Welcome to Hell II

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    ?

    The last two days were officially a new type of Hell, and Xander was being all too literal when he said that.

    It wasn''t bad enough that he had to give up his glorious freedom to be another unwilling victim of the United States mandatory school system, he also had to find out that not only are vampires real, but so are all other types of monsters and demons and they''re all running around his town, free as birds.

    On top of that, said town was also built on a literal gate to literal freakin'' Hell.

    It couldn''t even just be an ancient Indian burial ground, Xander thought bitterly, his mind racing faster than his body could manage as he stumbled through the darkened alley. It had to be so much worse. I already had to worry about lead popping up all over the place, who knew what weird Hell energy was doing to my system?

    To make matters worse, their only defense against all this was the blonde new girl. Impressive as she was when it came to kicking evil ass, she was all of five feet tall and with a face that wasn''t very threatening.

    Vampire Slayer Barbie would sell like hotcakes, though, Xander joked, trying to distract himself from the searing pain in his leg and the terror gripping his heart. A pocket-sized superhero, wrapped up in a pretty blonde package.

    All of that barely mattered right now, because to make matters somehow even more worse, he was running down the back alley of the Bronze while his new friend Buffy fought off vampires with the help of an old friend and a British librarian in tweed, because another of his old friends seemed dead set on drinking him like a freshly opened Capri-Sun.

    "Where you goin'', bud?" the voice cackled through the alley, the laugh lacking all of its usual goofiness. "It''s me, harmless ol'' Jesse. I just wanna talk, man." The fanged monster he once considered a friend chased after him, barely speedwalking as Xander struggled to keep moving despite the pain.

    It would have been funny, you know, if he wasn''t living it.

    Xander panted heavily as he scrambled through the darkness of the alley, the echo of his desperate footsteps swallowed by the ominous shadows. The sharp pain shooting up from his upper thigh, where another vampire had unintentionally clawed him open when he tried to face Jesse inside the Bronze, slowed his pace, leaving red staining his jeans and a trail of glistening blood behind him.

    This is bad, this is so bad, Xander''s mind screamed, his thoughts jumbled and frantic as he tried to push through the agony. I''m gonna die in this alley, and I never even got to second base with a girl.

    He cursed himself for fleeing the relative safety of the under-twenty one club, thoughts racing as panic and adrenaline fueled his shaky legs. "I should''ve stayed," he muttered under his breath, the fear of the creature that attacked him now overshadowed by the terror of the one now pursuing him.

    The shadows seemed to close in around him, the narrow walls of the alley feeling more like a coffin with each passing second. Don''t think about coffins! Don''t think about graves! Xander''s heart pounded in his chest, the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears nearly drowning out the ominous footsteps behind him. How am I not supposed to think about either? They''re BOTH vampire related.

    "You smell kinda good, bro." Jesse, once a friend, now a nightmarish version of himself as a vampire, taunted Xander with a chilling casualness. "Is that weird of me to say?" His voice, filled with a horrifying hunger, bounced off the graffiti-covered walls.

    Xander''s response was breathless, his voice filled with both fear and defiance as he clutched for the wooden stake hidden in his jeans. "Very! I''ll call it kosher if you leave me alone though," he shot back, managing a weak smile and a shakier laugh.

    Come on, Xander, keep it together, he urged himself, trying to steady his breathing and focus through the haze of pain and terror. You''ve got a weapon, you''ve got a chance. Just keep him talking, keep him distracted until Buffy can get here.

    But even as he tried to convince himself, Xander knew deep down that his chances were slim to none. He was just a regular guy, a high school kid who liked to snark and loved his comic books. He wasn''t a superhero, he wasn''t a fighter.

    He was just... Xander.

    The blood loss was starting to take its toll, his vision blurring at the edges as he stumbled forward, his legs feeling more like lead with each step. The world seemed to tilt and spin around him, the shadows dancing at the edges of his vision.

    Jesse laughed from behind him, the sound more terrifying than reassuring, as Xander quickened his pace. "No can do, bud." He glanced behind him and shuddered, picking up the pace as once-friendly eyes glinted back at him with open hunger. "A man''s gotta eat."

    "Yeah, yeah," he gasps, trying to inject some bravado into his voice as he continued to run from his old friend. "You''re a growing boy and all that. Didn''t figure you could grow anymore considering you''re DEAD!" Xander''s heart sank, a cold realization settling in the pit of his stomach.

    He knew he couldn''t outrun Jesse, not in his current state.

    But he''d be damned if he was going to go down without a fight.

    Come on, Buffy, he silently pleaded, a last desperate hope clinging to his heart. Where are you?

    Xander knew it was pointless to hope. He was alone in this alley, alone with the monster that had once been his friend. And as much as he wanted to believe otherwise, he knew that no one was coming to save him.

    The alley seemed to stretch on forever, the end nowhere in sight as the shadows kept on closing in, slower than Jesse but terrifying all the same. Xander''s breath came in ragged gasps, his lungs burning with each desperate wheeze. He could feel Jesse''s presence behind him, and he hoped that was only blood he felt trailing down his leg.

    Jesse''s footsteps grew closer, the sound echoing through the alley. Xander''s heart raced, his pulse pounding in his ears as he tried to push himself to move faster, to escape the inevitable. This can''t be happening, he thought, a hysterical laugh bubbling up in his throat. I''m too young to die, too pretty to be vampire chow.

    But even as the dark humor flitted through his thoughts, he knew it was a futile attempt to keep the fear at bay. At least cook me first.

    Xander''s vision swam with that last joke as he laughed out loud to himself again, the blood loss and exertion hitting him even harder. He stumbled, his foot catching on an uneven patch of asphalt, and he nearly went down. Somehow, through sheer force of will, he managed to stay on his feet, to keep moving forward. He pulled the stake from his back pocket and gripped it in his hand as tight as he could manage.

    Just a little further, he told himself even as his knuckles turned white around the wooden weapon, though he knew it was a lie. Just a little further, and maybe Buffy will find me. Maybe she''ll save me.

    Without warning, Jesse appeared in front of Xander with a sudden burst of vampiric speed, nearly blurring in Xander''s swimming eyes as he let out a cackling laugh. The friend turned freak grabbed him by the jacket with one hand and raised him in the air, Xander''s legs kicking wildly as he let out a frightened yelp.

    Still laughing, Jesse slammed his friend against a cold brick wall, the impact sending a shockwave of pain through Xander''s already battered body.

    "Ooooh, is that O-Negative?" Jesse cackled, smiling at Xander hungry as his face shifted, his brown eyes glowing a sickly yellow. "Why am I asking? You don''t know."

    This can''t be happening, Xander thought, his mind reeling as he stared into the face of the creature that had once been his best friend. Jesse''s face was monstrous, brow ridged, features distorted and mouth twisted by the fangs that protruded menacingly.

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    With the stake now pointed at Jesse''s heart, Xander trembled, both from pain and the cold realization of what he had to do. His hand shook, the rough wood digging into his palm as he tried to steady his grip.

    Jesse smirked, monstrous eyes mocking as he tilted his head to the side. "Ooh! All right. Put me out of my misery. You don''t have the guts."

    He''s right, Xander thought. I can''t do this. I can''t kill my bud. I can''t kill anyone.

    But even as the thought crossed his mind, another voice spoke up, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Buffy from the night before. That''s not your friend anymore, Xander. That''s a monster wearing his face.

    Fear, pain, and a desperate burst of willpower collided as Xander ignored his own agony to drive the stake forward. He let out a primal scream, a sound equal parts terror and determination as he put every ounce of strength he had left into the downwards thrust.

    Jesse, caught off guard by Xander''s sudden move, tried to react, but it was too late. The stake pierced his chest even as his clawed fingers speared through Xander''s chest in a lastdefensive attack.

    Xander gasped, the pain so intense that for a moment, he couldn''t breathe. He looked down, eyes wide with shock as he saw Jesse''s hands buried in his chest, blood already soaking through his shirt.

    This is it, he thought, a strange sense of calm washing over him. This is how I die.

    But even as the thought crossed his mind, Jesse collapsed into dust, his body disintegrating before Xander''s eyes. The hands that had been buried in his chest vanished, leaving behind gaping wounds that pulsed with each ragged breath.

    Xander crumpled to the ground, his legs giving out beneath him as he clutched at the fatal wound. Blood flowed freely, mixing with the dust that was once his friend. He gasped for air, his mind a whirl of pain and confusion.

    "Fuck," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper as he tried to crawl forward, his hands and knees scraping against the rough asphalt. He managed a few feet before his strength gave out, and he crashed to the ground once more.

    I can''t die here, he thought, even as the world began to spin around him. I can''t leave Buffy and Willow alone. They need me.... I need them.

    Blood flowed from him as he watched with droopy eyes and darkening vision, the red liquid trailing out in front of him like a macabre river. The pain was fading now, replaced by a cold numbness that seemed to seep into his very bones.

    I just... he began to think, a haze filling his thoughts. I just wanna be the hero for once. I wanna matter.

    A warmth suddenly made itself felt from his back pocket, something that felt almost hot but small. What?

    Xander''s brow furrowed, confusion cutting through the fog that had settled over his mind. He tried to reach for the source of the warmth, but his arms refused to cooperate, his fingers twitching uselessly at his sides.

    Before he could question it further, a flash of red light filled the alley, so bright that it seared his retinas even through his closed eyelids. Xander blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision as he heard footsteps clicking towards him slowly.

    A pair of red dress shoes filled his vision, stopping just short of stepping atop his blood. Xander blinked again, his eyes struggling to focus as he cast his gaze up from his position on the filthy, cold alley floor.

    Black dress pants, a black vest, a black tie, and a red dress shirt were the major things he noticed, but what was above all those took his breath away.

    "...you?" Xander croaked, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his own heart.

    A mouth full of perfectly straight, brilliant white teeth smiled back at him. "Me."

    The figure ran his hand through his mane of thick, blood-red dreadlocks, piercing blue eyes focused on Xander''s bloody, wheezing form. "Hey there, Xander."

    "...wha..." Xander managed, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing.

    But even as he tried to convince himself it was a trick of his failing mind, Xander couldn''t deny the evidence of his own eyes. Samuel was there, looking for all the world like he had just stepped out of a fashion magazine.

    What the hell is going on?

    Samuel Ash shook his finger and made a noise that was clearly discouraging as he spoke in that slow drawl, seemingly unbothered by watching another kid mortally wounded and bleeding to death. "I wouldn''t bother talking. You don''t have the energy. Just nod or shake your head. Okay, homie?"

    Xander opened his mouth to speak, only to realize the other boy was right. His tongue felt like lead in his mouth, his jaw refusing to cooperate as he tried to form words. Guess I''m not getting any last words in, he thought, a morbid sense of humor still clinging to his fading consciousness.

    After a moment, he nodded, the simple motion sending a fresh wave of pain through his battered body.

    "Good. See, what I''m here to do is offer you a deal."

    A deal? Xander''s mind raced, trying to make sense of Samuel''s words through the pain.

    He nodded weakly, hoping Sam would get to the point before he passed out. The edges of his vision were already starting to blur, the shadows of the alley seeming to close in around him like a shroud.

    "Good. Me too. As in I," Sammy pointed a thumb at his chest, his voice carrying a note of confidence that seemed out of place in the grim surroundings, "want you," he pointed an index finger at Xander''s prone form on the ground, "to live. Planet Earth would be worse off without you and you don''t want to die if you can help it, you''re a fighter that way."

    Xander nodded, a flicker of hope sparking in his chest despite the dire situation. He wants me to live, he thought, clinging to the words like a lifeline.

    "Which is why I took it upon myself," Sam snapped his fingers, and what could only be described as a red glowing pawn chess piece appeared over his palm, the thing hovering a few inches above it, "to make things happen. You wanna live right, Xan Man?"

    Xander''s eyes widened, his gaze transfixed by the glowing chess piece. What the hell is that? he wondered, his mind struggling to process the impossible sight before him.

    He nodded, barely able to do anything else as his vision continued to darken. The pain was fading now, replaced by a cold numbness that seemed to seep into his very bones.

    "You want to make a difference, don''t you?"

    Another nod, weaker this time. Of course I do, Xander thought, a flicker of his old determination sparking to life in his chest. I want to help Buffy, I want to keep Willow safe, I want to... I don''t wanna die.

    "You want to be a hero like The Slayer, putting vamps in the dirt, right?"

    Xander opened his mouth, his voice barely a whisper as he forced the words out. "...y-yes."

    "That''s what I want to hear, big guy," Sam grinned as he squatted down to the alley floor, his face mere inches from Xander''s own. Up close, his eyes seemed to glow with an otherworldly light, the blue irises literally luminescent in the darkness.

    What are you? Xander wanted to ask, but the words wouldn''t come. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, his lips refusing to form the syllables.

    "Welcome to your new life," Samuel said, his voice seeming to echo from a great distance as Xander''s consciousness began to slip away.

    The last thing Xander saw before the darkness overtook him was the scarlet glow of the pawn piece as it touched his forehead, the warmth of it seeming to spread through his entire being like a wildfire.

    And then, there was only darkness.

 Devil I

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    Xander Harris jolted awake, the sudden rush of sunlight cutting across his face like a sharp reminder of reality. "FUCK!"

    His voice cracked as the word burst from his lips, pure instinct driving him to sit up so fast whiplash was a possibility. His heart was a jackhammer in his chest, pounding out a rhythm that ran on nothing but fear and adrenaline.

    His hands, trembling and unsure, immediately searched his chest. Patting himself down, he expected to feel... A hole? Blood?

    Honestly, he wasn''t quite sure, but what he wasn''t expecting was unblemished whole skin, at the very least. It was wrong, it had to be wrong.

    This can''t be real, Xander thought, his mind reeling as he tried to make sense of the situation. I was stabbed, I was dying, I... I killed Jesse.

    But something was off...

    His hands fell down to the side, fingers searching for a stake that wasn''t there.

    "Jesse!" The name came out as a growl, a reminder of the night and its horrors. Xander''s mind raced, the memory of his friend¡ªno, not a friend, not anymore, a monster¡ªflashing vividly behind his eyes. Jesse, his face twisted into something grotesque, something hungry.

    The alley, the fight, the end... His fists clenched at nothing, nails just digging into his palm.

    It was real, it had to be, Xander thought, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he tried to calm his racing heart. I felt it, I lived it, I... I died.

    But with no wound¡­

    "Was it all a wacked out dream?" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper as he stared down at his unblemished chest.

    "Not a dream, Xan Man," a voice broke through his thoughts, smooth and unnervingly perfectly calm. It wasn''t the voice he expected, not the monster from his nightmares, but one far too casual for the morning after.

    Instinctive fear filled his heart as Xander''s eyes widened, the sixteen-year-old letting out a shriek that was completely and totally manly as he jumped slightly in his bed.

    His head snapped to the side and Xander was met with the usual mess that would be more embarrassing if he ever bothered to have friends over anymore. Action figures stood guard on cluttered shelves, posters of rock bands and the occasional movie star plastered on the walls, all surrounded by clothes that had never found their way back to drawers or the laundry basket.

    Everything was as normal as it could be in the chaotic sanctuary of a teenage boy''s bedroom.

    Oh yeah, and then there was the unbothered image of a boy slouching in the middle of his room, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, just lounging on a white plastic lawn chair like he owned the place.

    "You!" Xander''s voice was accusatory, his finger pointing sharply at the intruder. He didn''t remember inviting anyone in, certainly not some guy he had just met yesterday. What the hell is he doing here? Xander thought, his mind racing with a thousand questions. How did he even get in?

    And also¡­ whose chair is that?

    "Me," the boy replied with a smirk, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. His skin was a rich, deep brown, his dreadlocks a startling shade of red, and those eyes... a piercing blue that seemed almost unnatural. "Samuel Lucius Ash VI, at your semi-service." He clicked his tongue as the last word left his mouth, winking. "Slept well, bro?"

    Confusion tangled with the remnants of fear, but Xander had to admit, he had slept deeply, strangely peacefully. "Yeah, actually," he responded, the normalcy of his sleep dawning on him as odd. "Weird, kinda. Not gonna lie, I haven''t slept that good since... since I was a baby, I don''t thi-waiiiiiitaminute."

    His train of thought crashed as suspicion rebooted the rest of his brain. "You don''t get to distract me like that. No tricks here, buster."

    Sam''s chuckle was low, almost inaudible, a slight tightness to his smile that was the clear expression of someone trying to hold back a larger laugh.

    Xander''s eyes narrowed. "...what?"

    "Nothing, just... You said tricks." The blue-eyed boy waved off the question like it was a bad smell. "It''s... it''s an inside joke."

    He shook his head again, amusement clear in his smile but an oddly focused look on his eyes as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Anyway, I''d imagine you slept well. You''ve been in bed for a good thirty-six hours."

    "Two days!?" Xander nearly jumped to his feet. What the¡ª

    "Nahhhh, just messing with you," Sam said with anoter laugh, that intense gaze never leaving Xander. "It''s just Saturday."

    Xander shifted uncomfortably under the intensity of the other boy''s eyes, feeling like a bug under a microscope for some reason. What''s with this guy? he thought, his mind still struggling to catch up with the bizarre turn his morning had taken. Something about him gives me the worst creeps, like why is he in my room?

    "But seriously," Sam continued, his voice losing its casual edge as he cut in before Xander could do the necessary interrogating, "how''s your chest? Y''know, where you got stabbed last night."

    Stolen novel; please report.

    Xander''s hand instinctively flew to his chest, fingers once again searching for a wound that wasn''t there. The memory of the pain, the feel of Jesse''s hands plunging into his flesh, it was all so vivid, so real.

    But there was no evidence of it now, no scar, no bandage, not even a bruise.

    "I... I don''t know," Xander admitted, barely whispering as he met Sam''s gaze. "It''s like it never happened, but I know it did. I felt it, I..." he trailed off, unable to put the horror of the previous night into words.

    Jesse''s face, twisted into that demonic mask, flashed in his mind again. The memory of the pain was vivid, a sharp, piercing agony that had felt like the end. "That was a... That wasn''t a dream...?" he muttered, the question more to himself than to Sam.

    "That was not, in fact, a dream," Sam confirmed, his tone steady. He leaned back in the chair, his posture relaxed, as if he were discussing the weather and not the fact that Xander had apparently just missed his appointed dinner date with the Grim Reaper himself. "It happened."

    This is insane, he thought, his mind reeling with the implications of Sam''s words. How can he know about what happened? How can he be so calm about it?

    "B-but then what about the wound I''m s''posed to have? How can I be fine?" Xander asked, his voice trembling slightly as he gestured to his unblemished chest. It didn''t make sense, none of it did. He should be dead, or at the very least, in a world of pain. But instead, he felt... fine. Better than fine, actually. "How do you know what happened? How are you here? What the hell is going on?"

    Sam leaned back in the chair, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "That''s a lot of questions, Xan Man. And I promise, I''ll answer them all. But right now, I''m only gonna do a couple. One or two, maybe? I got an appointment on the other side of town."

    Xander swallowed hard, a sense of dread settling in the pit of his stomach. He had a feeling he wasn''t going to like any of this, but he knew he had to hear it. After all, his life had already been turned upside down by the revelation of vampires and demons. What was one more bombshell?

    "Okay," he said, his voice trembling slightly as he met Sam''s gaze once more. "Hit me with it. My chest¡­ how?"

    Sam''s smile was as mysterious as it was maddening, Xander quickly disliking it. "I healed it," he said simply, as if that explained everything, as if magic were an everyday occurrence in the sunlit streets of Southern California.

    Which¡­ considering last night¡­ wasn''t that far-fetched.

    Healed it? Xander thought, his mind reeling. What is this guy, some kind of wizard? A... a demon? The thought sent a chill down his spine, the memory of Jesse''s twisted face still fresh in his mind.

    Xander was stuck in a mix of disbelief and a creeping dread as he stared at the boy across from him. "You... healed me?" His voice cracked slightly, the weight of the words sinking in, absurd and impossible as it seemed to be. He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs of confusion. "How? Why?"

    Sam just shrugged, an easy smile playing on his lips as if he were discussing the Santa Ana winds or something. "Healed you, resurrected you," he said, his hands making a casual waving motion, his dreadlocks swaying. "Potato, potahto, it doesn''t matter."

    Doesn''t matter? The casual dismissal made Xander''s head spin. His eyes widened, an odd mix of fear, disbelief, and curiosity he was growing very familiar with bubbling up as he focused on the second thing the other boy said. "Wait, resurrec-"

    "The point is," Sam cut in, rising from his chair in one fluid, unnerving motion. As he stood, the lawn chair he''d been sitting on vanished with a flash of red light, leaving no trace it had ever been there. Xander''s room suddenly felt too small, too normal to contain this kind of magic and his mouth dropped open, eyes so wide they almost hurt as he scrambled back on his bed.

    "I''m Samuel Lucius Ash the VI," the red-haired teenager declared again, this time with a flourish that felt like it should''ve been accompanied by dramatic music, "and I''m a devil."

    With a clap of his hands, Sam smiled broadly, as if he hadn''t just claimed to be an evil creature from Hell. "I''m also your master," he added, as though it were the most natural follow-up in the world. "Nice to properly meet you, Xander. Mind if I call you Xan?"

    Xander''s mind raced, each word from Sam piling up like cars in a traffic jam. What in the actual¡ª His thoughts tumbled over each other, the casual way Sam threw around words like ''devil'' and ''master''...

    It was too much, too fast, too... bizarre.

    Eeeh!?? Xander thought, his eyes darting around the room, half-expecting to see a hidden camera or a smirking Jesse ready to pop out and yell ''Gotcha!''

    The other sixteen-year old could only stare in confusion. His mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, his brain struggling to form a coherent response to the bombshell that had just been dropped on him.

    Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he managed to force out a single, eloquent phrase.

    "Say whaa-!?"

 Devil II

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    Xander slouched on his bed, the room around him a mess of typical teenage mess and pop culture relics. As his gaze flitted from the streaks of sunlight slicing through his blinds to the dusty corners of his comic-strewn floor, the weight of his new reality settled in with an almost audible thud. It had to be said Xander of the Harris clan wasn''t really a thinking guy.

    That wasn''t to say he was stupid.

    At least, he didn''t think so¡­ much.

    He just didn''t like to use his brain unless it was absolutely necessary, content to glide on instinct and humor more often than not. And more often than not, it served him just fine.

    Today demanded more brain power than usual, however. All blame or thanks for that could be laid at the feet of the ''Devil''¡ªaka Samuel Lucius Ash VI¡ªthe new kid who also claimed to be his ''Master''. The thought alone was enough to make him want to drown in his own sarcasm.

    This is just too much, even for Sunnydale, Xander thought, his mind still reeling from the bombshells that had been dropped on him one after another the last three days. Vampires? Slayers? Devils? What''s next, a talking dog?

    Glancing at the spot that had hosted Sam''s vanishing act with the chair, then remembering the whole ''resurrected like Big J'' stunt, Xander couldn''t help but consider the possibilities, however crazy they seemed. After all, the guy had apparently brought him back from the dead. "And in only five minutes too," he grumbled aloud, a bitter twist to his voice as he tried to turn it inot a joke. "Way better turnaround time than three whole days."

    But seriously, what the hell? Xander''s thoughts continued to spiral, his brain struggling to make sense of the insanity that had become his life. I died, like actually died, and now I''m back? He couldn''t exactly deny it.

    He knew how badly he was gored and the blood that was everywhere.

    Not exactly something you can slap a bandaid on and call it a day.

    As the reality of his situation dug its claws deeper, a groan escaped Xander''s lips, quickly morphing into an unintended laugh that was only a little bit manic.

    Why not, right?

    It was either laugh or scream, and he figured the walls of Casa de Harris had heard enough screaming and shouting from its inhabitants over the years. He''d been holed up in his room since the ordeal, save for quick ventures downstairs for sustenance¡ªsugar-coated cereal and leftover pizza serving as comfort food.

    His morning had vanished in a haze of trying to piece together last night''s events, the teenager doing his best to recall everything that had happened, moment by moment. He remembered waking up in the alley, blinking and dazed, then stumbling back into the Bronze, the local teen haunt, just in time to see Buffy¡ªhis friend and resident vampire slayer¡ªtaking out the ugly bloodsucker on the stage built like a pro weightlifter.

    What kind of immortal undead evil creature of the night is named Luke, anyway? Xander honestly wasn''t sure how vampires could be both scary and lame. At least Lestat had... I dunno, class? Everything after that was a blur of numb motions until he collapsed into bed, in a sleep so deep he felt like last night was five minutes ago.

    After he was done with that, he had spent the last four to five hours dealing with the daunting task of breaking the news to his friends as the stress of that loomed over him like a dark cloud. He pondered the potential conversations, each one spiraling as he could only come up with more and more absurd ways to open the dialogue. Hey, guys, nice weather we''re having. Did you know that I sold my soul to Satan? Crazy, right?

    The thought of explaining this to Willow, with her Jewish upbringing, or Buffy, who literally fought demons as a hobby, was enough to make him want to declare it all a bad dream. He wasn''t even sure which of them would take it worse.

    "No, that''s a lie," he admitted aloud to no one but his Spider-Man poster. Willow would freak out¡ªpanicking was her default mode for less. At the very least, she''d be freaked out for him.

    Buffy? Well, she was more likely to kick into slayer mode first and ask questions... maybe never. "She''s got a real knack for decapitation," he muttered, a half-hearted attempt at humor to mask his dread. He only knew her for less than her a week anyway, he doubted there''d be much sympathy for him.

    And let''s not forget Giles, Xander''s mind helpfully supplied the image of the school''s new tweedy librarian ¡ª who was apparently also part of an ancient order of vampire slayer assistants ¡ª popping into his head. He''s gonna have a field day with this one. ''Xander, you foolish boy, do you have any idea what you''ve done? What we must now do? It is for the greater good that we must free your soul.''

    Falling back against his pillow, Xander stared at the ceiling, his eyes tracing the lines where the paint was starting to chip. "All because I thought I could be the big damn hero," he sighed, his voice thick with bitterness. "Try to fight a vampire on your own, bleed a little, and bam¡ªnext thing you know, you''re in debt to a devil with dreadlocks."

    He let out a low groan as his hands flew to his face, covering his eyes as if he could block out the absurdity of his life. "What is my life? I lose my best friend to some demon monster Dracula bitch, then I die, and now I owe my undead soul to the Devil... who apparently likes reggae?" The words spilled out in a half-whisper, the reality of his situation feeling more like a script from a bad horror flick. "Why didn''t they cover this in Sunday school?"

    Tink.

    Tink.

    Xander was distracted from his own thoughts as the sound of something hitting his window caught his attention. He blinked, momentarily confused, before the sound came again, a soft tap against the glass.

    Tink.

    What the hell? he thought, his brow furrowing as he crawled over his bed to the other side of the room. If that''s a vampire throwing rocks at my window, I swear...

    He lifted up the blinds to look out the window, squinting against the bright sunlight that streamed in. Another small pebble hit the window, making him frown as he looked down to see who was responsible for the impromptu rock concert.

    His eyes widened as he spotted a familiar set of red dreadlocks and a pair of unmistakable blue eyes that left him feeling like there was a pit in his stomach. Oh, great. Just what I needed, he thought, a mix of dread and resignation washing over him.

    Xander opened his mouth to say something, only to realize the "devil" outside probably wouldn''t be able to hear with his window closed. Not that I really know what to say anyway, he thought to himself, his mind racing with a thousand questions and not a single answer.

    He looked back to see the red-haired boy roll his eyes in a way that looked both natural and, at the same time, extremely exaggerated. With a few hand motions, most notably, the "come here" gesture, the other teen clearly told him to come outside.

    Xander felt himself hesitate, fear rising up slightly at the idea of following anyone who called themselves "The Devil" anywhere, whether or not the name was factual. The idea that he believed it was bad enough, especially with demons being a real thing and the gate to Hell apparently just a few blocks away from his own house.

    This is insane, he thought, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared down at the boy who had turned his world upside down. I should just pretend I didn''t see him, maybe hide under the bed until he goes away.

    But even as the thought crossed his mind, Xander knew it was pointless. If Sam really was the Devil, or even just a powerful demon, hiding under the bed wasn''t going to do jack squat. And besides, a part of him, the part that had always been too curious for his own good, wanted answers.

    I mean... It''s not like he''s going to kill me, right? he thought to himself, actually thinking deep once again. Like, no point in pulling off a miracle if he''s just gonna do the job himself anyway. Huh...

    After a few seconds of long deliberation, Xander came to a single conclusion. "Might as well find out what I want to know before I take this to the girls... and Giles," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper as he signed back to Sam that he was coming down with an "Ok" sign.

    The teenager quickly threw on a pair of tan shorts, a relatively clean white tee with a breast pocket, and some brown sandals, his mind still reeling with the implications of what he was about to do. This is crazy, he thought, shaking his head as he made his way to the door. I''m actually going to have a conversation with the Devil. Me, Xander Harris, the guy''s struggling with Trig.

    As he made his way down the stairs, he paused by the living room to see his father, Tony, asleep on the couch, a half-finished beer spilling from his hand onto the floor and a half dozen more empty ones littering the ground in front of him. Xander''s nose wrinkled at the sight, a familiar mix of disgust and resignation washing over him.

    His mom was out of town, going to see a long-time friend that was in Los Angeles ¡ª Ashley or something ¡ª and it was just him and his dad for the week, something he wished would never happen. He doubted he''d get anything to eat unless it was at school or he ordered in with what little money he had, considering the man could barely feed himself.

    The balding and graying man let out a loud snore and murmured in his sleep, shaking Xander from his long gaze. Let''s get this over with, he thought, letting out a sigh as he quickly opened the door and stepped outside, leaving all those thoughts behind as he spotted the devil standing on the curb.

    The blue-eyed black boy had discarded the outfit from the Thursday that had been the Buffster''s first day of school, going for a black tank-top and red shorts instead. Xander couldn''t help but notice how the colors seemed to suit him, a thought that made him shake his head in disbelief. I''m actually checking out the Devil''s fashion sense, he thought, a hysterical laugh bubbling up in his throat. This is my life now.

    He took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever was to come as he made his way over to Sam. The other boy watched him approach, a small smirk playing on his lips as if he knew exactly what was going through Xander''s mind.

    "Took you long enough," Sam said, his voice carrying that same casual drawl that had unsettled Xander from the moment they met. "I was starting to think you were gonna leave me hanging."

    Xander shrugged, trying to play it cool even as his heart raced in his chest. "Yeah, well, I had to make sure I looked my best for our little date," he quipped, the words feeling hollow even to his own ears. "Wouldn''t want to disappoint the Devil, now would I?"

    Sam''s smirk widened, his blue eyes glinting with amusement. "You could never disappoint me, Xan Man," he said, the words sending a chill down Xander''s spine. "After all, we''ve got a special bond now, you and me."

    Xander swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry as he met Sam''s gaze. "About that," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I think we need to talk."

    "Yeah, we do," Sam answered back, "Sorry I had to head out so quickly. I had to make sure my new place was set up. I''m new to the Dale, if you haven''t guessed. Anyway, how was your Saturday?"

    Xander shrugged, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his shorts as he fell into step beside the other boy. "Bout as good as the Star Wars Christmas Special," he answered bluntly, returning Sam''s smile with one that he didn''t feel. "You gonna answer my questions now?"

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Sam''s smile quirked upwards, becoming an outright smirk. "Sure," he waved his hand behind his back, gesturing for Xander to follow. "Let''s walk and talk."

    Xander nodded, the smile falling from his face as he trudged after the self-proclaimed devil. "...great, Saturday''s getting worse," he muttered under his breath.

    This is insane, he thought, his eyes darting around the quiet suburban street as if expecting to see a horde of demons pop out from behind the manicured hedges. I''m actually taking a stroll with the Devil. The actual, real deal, Devil.

    Sam snorted, drawing Xander''s attention back to him. "Come on, I don''t bite."

    "What?" Xander shot back as he jogged up to meet him on the sidewalk, voice positively dripping with sarcasm. "Not that kind of demon? No fangs?"

    Sam turned to him and smiled wide, Xander freezing slightly at the sight of two rather pronounced canines that stopped just short of being vampire-like fangs. In front of Xander''s eyes, they grew out to be chompers any bloodsucker would be proud of before retracting back again to only being slightly sharp. "I wouldn''t say that," the devil winked as he closed his mouth, blue eyes glinting with mischief. "You''re just not my type."

    Xander let out a nervous chuckle, suddenly feeling nervous at the decision to follow this guy. What the hell was I thinking? he berated himself, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to keep his cool. I''m actually joking around with a demon. A demon who brought me back from the dead and claims to be my master. This is so far beyond normal, it''s not even funny.

    "...lucky me," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper as he tried to shake off the rising sense of dread.

    Taking another breath, the teenager decided to get right to the burning question. Heh... burning. Hell. The Devil. I kill me, he thought, a humorless smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Shaking his head, he pushed that admittedly funny joke aside to voice his pertinent question. "When you say, you''re the Devil, what does that m-"

    "I''m gonna stop you right there, Xan," Sam interrupted, holding up a single finger as they continued to walk away from Xander''s house, the boy with dreadlocks making a left turn as the black-haired boy followed. The sun continued to set in the sky, the horizon turning a bright shade of orange as they kept going, casting long spooky shadows across the pavement. "Never said I was the Devil."

    Xander frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. Is this guy pulling my leg now? he wondered, turning to the other teen with narrowed eyes. "I have it on good authority that you sai-"

    "First of all, by good authority you mean yourself," Sam interjected, receiving an instinctive nod from Xander. "And you''d be wrong about what you heard because what I said is that I''m a devil."

    The black-haired boy raised an eyebrow. "I d-"

    "A devil," Samuel interrupted again.

    Xander stared.

    Sam rolled his eyes. "Not the," he emphasized the latter word. "A."

    The other boy blinked, his mind struggling to process the distinction. "...Well, that makes it so much clearer now, doesn''t it?" he said, sarcasm fresh and clear in his tone. "What does that mean? You''re a demon, right?"

    Sam snorted, rolling his eyes in a way that made Xander feel like he was missing something obvious. "You''re a mammal, right?"

    Xander raised an eyebrow, unsure of where this was going. "I do have nipples, if that''s what you want to know, but I thought I wasn''t your type," he quipped.

    "Funny," Sam shot back, raising his eyebrows slightly. "Anyway, I''m a demon, sure, the same way a vampire is a demon, pretty much. That doesn''t help you understand anything, though, because demon covers such a wide range that it''s a terrible descriptor for anything, very vague honestly," the demon added with a snort, before quickly recovering. "I''m a devil, though. It''s a colloquial term for my race among ourselves, as we''re officially known as Fiend demons."

    Xander nodded slowly, his mind racing to keep up with the influx of information. Fiend demons, he repeated silently, committing the term to memory. Okay, so there are different types of demons. That makes sense, I guess. But what the hell is a Fiend demon? And what does it mean to be a devil?

    He opened his mouth to ask, but Sam was already moving on, his hands gesturing animatedly as he spoke. "I say officially, but no demon you''d ever encounter this side of... uh, Creation, I guess," he muttered the last three words, "would ever hear of us," he paused for a moment, kicking a discarded soda can out of his path without looking down.

    "...okay," Xander nodded, understanding very little.

    "We''re kind of above their level, so to speak," Sam added with a bit of a grin. "We''re your true Biblical demon, as in a race descended from the spawn of Lilith, the first woman and the seed of Lucifer, the first fallen angel. Unlike the vast majority of demons, as we are technically made in the image of His creation, we look as human as humans do... all the time," the red-haired boy added the last three words, pre-empting Xander''s next question.

    "...okay, so no aaarrgghh game face like the vamps and you''re not Satan. Got it," Xander said with a few quick nods, swallowing a mouthful of nothing. "Really just wanted to know that but thank you, sure."

    The devil snorted. "I mean, that''s not to say we''re locked out of the classic glowing eyes, fanged teeth, forked tongue nonsense," Sam admitted with a tilt of his head, blue eyes shifting scarlet for a beat. "But it''s something you use your own power to do, not your natural form."

    "Okay¡­ Uhhh," Xander blinked, hypnotized by the sudden eye color change, "Uh, next question..."

    "How did I heal you?" Sam glanced at him.

    Xander nodded slowly, focusing his attention directly on the other boy as they walked past the Doublemeat Palace. "...yeah."

    Samuel nodded, a slight smile on his face as he continued to gesture. "See, there are all kinds of demons out there. You got your shitty little vampires, your hellhounds, your succubi... the list goes on and on. But us Devils, we''re a special breed. We''re the ones who stand opposite the angels, rule the Hells, make the deals, grant the wishes and take the souls."

    The red-haired boy frowned for a moment at that last bit. "At least¡­ historically."

    Xander felt a chill run down his spine at the mention of souls, his hand instinctively going to his chest where Jesse''s hands had plunged through. Is that what he did to me? he wondered, his heart sinking at the thought. Did he take my soul in exchange for bringing me back?

    "So, wait," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "You''re saying that you''re like, what, a demon salesman? You go around making deals with people, trading... for what, exactly?"

    "Well, I mean, I don''t... Not usually at least. But I felt like slumming it for at least a day. Anyway, yeah," Sam grinned imperiously, teeth flashing in the fading sunlight. "Whatever they want, Xan Man. Power, wealth, fame... you name it, we make it happen. For a price, of course."

    Xander swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry as he stared at the boy beside him. This is insane, he thought, not for the first time. I''m actually having a conversation about selling souls with a demon. Who owns mine.

    "And what about me?" he asked to confirm his fear, his panicked hazel eyes locked onto Sam''s calm blue gaze. "What did you do to me, exactly? Did you... did you take my soul?"

    Sam''s grin faded completely, his expression turning serious as he regarded Xander with those piercing blue eyes. "I said historically. That''s not how it works with us anymore."

    "Anymore? So how does it work, then?" Xander outright demanded, his voice rising in strength as the sun began to set in earnest. "Don''t lie to me."

    "First of all, Alexander, I did not take your soul," Sam answered, speaking and enunciating slowly as if talking to a baby.

    Xander felt a wave of relief wash over him, but it was short-lived as Sam continued. "You see, when you were dying, you were begging in your mind for someone to give you a chance, for someone to save you and when your blood touched this," the devil snapped his fingers, a familiar black card with red lettering appearing between his fingers in a flash of scarlet, "you summoned me to make a deal."

    "...I¡­" Xander swallowed a mouthful of saliva as he stopped walking, eyes locked on to the card he remembered putting in his back pocket.

    "I offered you the chance to live and make something of yourself, to be the hero, and you accepted, Xan," Sam nodded as if able to see what Xander was slowly recalling as the Harris boy locked eyes with him again. "You were a goner. Healing wouldn''t have fixed you in time and I''m not one for quick and easy necromancy. So, I had to do something else."

    "Else?" the Harris boy asked, voice low.

    "I didn''t just heal your body," Samuel snapped again, scarlet flashing as the black card was replaced with a glowing red chess piece¡ªa pawn¡ªfloating over his raised palm. "This is what''s called an Evil Piece, also known as a Magatama to some. It''s a tangible piece of my Demonic Power, my own essence, with the sole purpose of turning another being into a Fiend. That''s what brought you back, bud. You gave me your life, if not your soul, because you were about to lose it anyway. And in my line of work, we call that a debt."

    Xander''s eyes widened, his mind reeling with the implications of Sam''s words as he recognized the same piece that touched his forehead last night. "So, what, I''m like... part demon now?"

    Sam shrugged, another small smile playing on his lips. "Not part. You''re all devil, Xanny. Still the same memories and person, nothing possessing you or replacing you or anything. Just your metaphysical self changed on the genetic and soul level."

    Xander shook his head, his mind spinning with the revelation, his brain feeling like it was overheating in the cool night air. I''m part demon, he thought, the words echoing in his head like a twisted mantra. I died, and now I''m part demon. I''m a demon. Imademonimademonimademonimademonimad-

    He took a deep breath, steadying himself as he looked back at Sam. "Okay, so... what does that mean, exactly? Why me? Why are you here? What... what do you want from me?"

    Sam''s smile widened, his eyes glinting with something that Xander couldn''t quite place. "Well, first things first," he said, voice low and dangerous. "You gotta prove something first?"

    Xander, once again, found himself swallowing. "...w-w-what?"

    He leaned in closer, his face mere inches from Xander''s as he whispered the next words. "Go kill those vampires for me."

    Vampires? Xander felt a shiver run down his spine, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared into those blue eyes, so full of promise and threat. "Huh?"

    A strong hand grabbed him by the neck and the black-haired boy found himself being lifted out of his sandals and hurled bodily into the air, flying several dozen feet into what he now recognized as Ashwood Cemetery.

    He crashed onto the cold ground with a grunt, wind knocked out of him, as he blinked up at the night sky, staring at stars as he tried to catch his bearings.

    Before he could even sit up to shout insults at the devil, a clawed hand burst up from the ground near his face, and a very manly scream left Xander''s lips.

 Devil III

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    The graveyard was a symphony of hisses, roars, and the unsettling noise of dirt being forcefully displaced. Another set of hands burst through the ground, clawed fingers scrabbling against a cold tombstone for leverage. "Motherf-!" Xander bit back the curse as he crabwalked away, scuttling away frantically.

    Did he say fight them? What the- I''m not Buffy! Xander screamed mentally as much as he did audibly, his heart pounding in his chest as he scrambled backwards, the damp grass staining his jeans. This is insane! He glanced up at the entrance to the cemetery over a dozen meters away only to realize that Sam was nowhere to be seen, his jaw dropping open as he realized the so-called "devil" had left him alone surrounded by bloodsuckers. I''m not a Slayer, I''m not even a sidekick! I can''t fight vampires!

    As Xander backed up, terror spiking with each demonic hiss, he twisted to look behind him, only to meet another grave being torn open as its undead resident crawled out the ground. He let out a high-pitched shriek, more girlish than he''d ever ever admit to, reversing direction with a speed that would''ve impressed any high school gym coach. He crawled, hands and knees digging into the cold, hard soil, desperate to put distance between himself and the hungry dead.

    Son of a-! Xander''s mind raced, his thoughts a frantic mess of panic and disbelief.

    His escape route was cut off by a new obstacle, as a head covered in bright, dirt-caked long blond hair thrust itself out from a nearby grave. "F-fuck!" The word burst from him in a panicked exhale as he staggered to his feet, his eyes darting between the three freshly risen vampires. "How many vampires are in this town?"

    "I don''t know," quipped a female vampire with a smirk that didn''t reach her cold eyes and her black hair in a short bob. She stepped forward, her movements fluid and predatory, like a cat stalking its prey. "But we''ll make sure to do a headcount for you after dinner, as a courtesy."

    Great, a comedian, Xander thought, rolling his eyes as the fear took a slight back seat to his annoyance. I''m about to be eaten by a vampire, and she''s making jokes. Stick to your role, lady.

    Xander''s usual sarcastic self found its footing as his brain relied on instinct, his voice calm and sardonic despite the terror in his veins. "That''ll make my job as demon census taker so much easier, thank you," he shot back, even as his voice quivered slightly. His eyes darted around the graveyard, searching for an escape route, a weapon, anything that could give him an advantage.

    The second vampire, a brown-haired college-age guy in a blue polo, hissed in a stop-starting way that, combined with the shaking of his shoulders, Xander could quickly and easily recognize as a laugh. Wow, I should work demon comedy clubs. I''d kill.

    "Enough talk, let''s eat!" the third vampire growled, stepping forward with a menacing snarl. His face was twisted into the demonic visage of the undead, ridges and fangs distorting his features into something monstrous.

    Xander faced the third, his expression a mix of incredulity more than fear. "...really, dude?" he blurted out, scrutinizing the vampire''s overly dramatic, goth-like outfit. "You were really planning for this whole bloodsucker thing, weren''t you? Like, come on, black eyeshadow, all black clothes, with a black leather trench? July was a couple weeks ago."

    The vampire paused, seemingly unsure how to take that. His demonic visage twisted in a scowl, the ridges on his forehead deepening as he glared at Xander. "It''s n-It''s not like tha-" he stammered.

    That''s right, keep ''em talking, Xander thought, his mind racing as he tried to buy himself some time. If I can just keep them distracted long enough, maybe I can find a way out of this. Or at least, a way to not die horribly.

    "In Sunnydale?" Xander continued, his nervous energy fueling his rapid-fire banter. He gestured around at the graveyard with a smile on his face. "You''d think you''d try to blend in more, but nope. Gotta go full Lestat, huh?"

    "This is what I usually wear, you kn-" the vampire tried to defend, his frustration mounting. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the pale skin stretched taut over the knuckles. "You don''t know what you''re tal-"

    "Like, look at Thing One and Thing Two over here," Xander interrupted, gesturing dismissively between the other two vampires, his heart pounding in his chest as he realized he was running out of material. Come on, Harris, think of something! "They''re dressed like, you know, people. People with common sense, not freakazoids." He barely suppressed a smirk, noticing the visible discomfort on the bottle blonde demon''s face. If I die, at least I''ll die as I lived. Mocking the forces of darkness.

    The vampire''s face darkened, his embarrassment shifting quickly to anger as he glanced at his companions¡ªwho struggled to maintain their menacing demeanors amid stifled snickers. After a tense moment, he turned back to Xander, a low, dangerous growl spilling from his throat.

    Uh oh, Xander thought, his bravado faltering as he saw the murderous glint in the vampire''s eyes. May have pushed my luck a little too far.

    "That''s it. Kill ''im."

    "Fuck."

    He took off running before the vampires did, an action that probably saved his life as the wannabe Lestat roared and leapt at him.

    The echo of his own heartbeat thundered in Xander''s ears as he bolted through the fog-draped cemetery, the cold mist swirling around him as he booked it. His breath puffed out in frantic bursts, the cold air nipping at his lungs as he dashed through the maze of graves. How in the hell am I supposed to fight demons? he thought, mind racing as fast as his legs.

    Laughter, dark and menacing, followed him¡ªthree vampires finding amusement in his terror. They fanned out, a tactical move to corral him, each of them moving with a predatory grace as he tried to find an escape route through the headstones. Their laughter grew even louder, a sound that sent shivers down his spine.

    This is bad, this is so bad, Xander''s mind screamed as he pushed himself to run faster, his heart pounding in his chest like a jackhammer. I''m not cut out for this, I''m not a hero. I can literally blame the devil for this.

    Xander''s panic spiked as he realized he couldn''t keep running. The vampires'' strategy was clear¡ªthey were effectively herding him, driving him towards a particularly shadowy part of the cemetery. The fog there was denser, cloaking everything more than a few feet away in a blanket of gray. They''re trying to trap me, he thought, his eyes darting around frantically as he tried to spot a way out. They''re gonna box me in, and then¡­

    He didn''t want to think about what would happen then. He''d seen enough horror movies to know that being trapped in a dark, foggy graveyard with a bunch of hungry vampires was not a good place to be.

    Suddenly, Xander''s foot caught on a low-lying grave marker, sending him stumbling forward. He regained his balance just in time to see the blonde vampire sprinting towards him, face monstrous as ever. His mind screamed at him to move, to do anything but stand like a deer in headlights.

    Move, Harris, move! he yelled at himself, his body frozen in place as the vampire closed in. You''re gonna die if you don''t do something!

    With a burst of adrenaline, Xander turned and sprinted towards a large, gnarled tree. Its branches loomed overhead, casting gnarled shadows on the ground. He pressed his back against the rough bark, breathing hard, his eyes darting around for any sign of escape.

    The blonde vampire, wild greasy hair reflecting the moonlight like a halo, lunged forward with claws extended, a blur of motion aimed straight for Xander''s throat.

    Xander''s instincts screamed, and he leaped off the tree¡ªan explosive, unthinking jump that had him over the vampire''s swipe, clearing the attack by at least half a dozen feet and nearly soaring through the air.

    Holy shit! Xander''s mind reeled as he felt himself propelled upwards, his body moving with a speed and agility he''d never experienced before. What the hell was that?

    He dropped heavily on the other side, the impact jarring his bones. The ground beneath him was cold and slightly damp with evening dew and he managed to roll on it into a three-point landing, his hands pressing into the soft earth, his body coiled and ready to spring up again.

    Xander looked down at his hands, his mind racing. He was breathing heavily, not just from the run but also from the fact that... I jumped... like, superhero jumped.

    Stunned, he continued to stare down at his hands, one of them planted firmly on the cold, damp earth, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. Did I really just leap over a vampire like I was freakin'' Spider-Xan?

    "What the hell was that?" The girl vampire shouted as she neared Xander''s place with the polo-wearing frat boy of a vampire right behind her. Her face was twisted in a mix of shock and anger, confusion noticeable as a strong third.

    "I don''t know, but I want him dead!" The greasy bottle blond let out another roar and, with only that as warning, he leaped again.

    Shit! Instinct roared in Xander''s brain and the teenager rolled to the side, scrambling to his feet as Greasy Lestat slammed face-first into a tombstone, a roar of pain leaving the vampire''s maw.

    I''ve got superpowers, and I''m fighting vampires in a graveyard. Weirder things have happened. I can''t think of any right now but I definitely will. He didn''t have time to dwell on it, though, as the other two vampires closed in, their faces twisted in snarls of rage. The girl was faster than the younger guy, her limbs a blur as she lunged for him, her claws outstretched.

    Xander reacted on instinct, his body moving almost before his mind could catch up. He ducked under her swipe, his newfound speed and agility allowing him to avoid her attack with ease. As he came up, he lashed out with a punch, his fist connecting with her jaw with a satisfying crack.

    I just punched a vampire! The thought burst into his mind as a manic laugh burst from his lips, the vampiress grunting as she held her jaw in pain. And it actually hurt her!

    His mind reeled even as his body continued to move almost instinctively, ducking around the frat vamp''s wild swing. The polo-wearing vampire in the backwards cap came at him again from the side, and Xander spun to face him, his body moving with a grace and power he''d never felt before.

    I can fight, he thought, a grin spreading across his face as his confidence surged. Bring it on, bloodsuckers.

    Blondy McGoth let out a feral roar, his rage audible as he rose again, the demon adjusting his nose back into place with a loud crack. In a show of brute strength, he wrenched a headstone from the earth, the stone visibly cracked from his earlier collision with it. With another, louder roar, he hurled it at Xander like a discus.

    Oh, shit! Xander''s mind screamed as he saw the massive chunk of rock hurtling towards him.

    The teenager ducked instinctively, the headstone whizzing just inches above his head. He almost dropped into a full split, the movement awkward and more painful than he expected as his heart pounded in his ears from the near-miss. Okay, note to self: work on flexibility, he thought, wincing as he felt the burn in his muscles.

    The frat boy vampire, decked out in a blue cap, yelped and dove to the ground. His eyes widened in alarm as the headstone sailed over him, crashing with a loud thud against another grave marker, sending shards of stone scattering across the dewy grass.

    "Damn it!" Interview with a Gothpire let out a loud curse, the sound echoing off the tombstones. Anger flashed in his yellow undead eyes as he charged towards Xander, his clawed fingers stretched out menacingly.

    Xander''s mind raced, barely registering his own movements as he sidestepped the vampire''s initial lunge. I''m faster than them, he realized, feeling the rush of his movements, the ease with which he avoided the vampire''s attacks. A little at least.

    Is that Evil Piece thing that strong? he wondered, his brain struggling to keep up with his body. Is this part of the whole Devil package? I can''t say I hate it.

    The fight escalated quickly, Xander fighting almost entirely on instinct at this point. He blocked a swipe from the blond vampire, the demon''s long hair fluttering like a greasy cape behind him. The vampire, dressed all in black, snarled and aimed another hit, which Xander also managed to block with a raised forearm. Stronger and tougher too, he realized. Tony''s hit me harder than that after the Chargers lose a game.

    Seizing the moment, Xander countered with a swift, double-fisted hammer blow to both of the vampire''s temples. The impact was solid, sending a shock up his arms as the vampire''s head rocked to the side. A grunt of pain escaped the leech''s lips as he staggered back, momentarily disoriented.

    "Hey, you stupid leech," he shouted out, dodging another blow he quickly responded to with a hasty kick. "How does it feel being a vampire? Just for the census."

    "It feels like drinking your blood!" the frat boy vampire snarled.

    Note to self: Taunt vampires more, Xander thought, grin wide and manic even as he barely managed to avoid another swipe of the vampire''s claws. They''re so full of themselves, it''s the funniest thing ever.

    Despite his newfound strength and his enjoyment of the fight, Xander''s lack of training was costing him as he often moved clumsily, his reactions more desperate dodges than skilled footwork. The first vamp, the girl with short black hair and a mocking smirk, managed to land a solid punch to Xander''s side that knocked the wind out of him, pain flaring across his ribs.

    Fuck me running, that hurt, he gasped, doubling over for a moment, but recovered quickly. He straightened, pain igniting a fierce determination within him as he dodged another incoming swipe from the wannabe Count, who had recovered and rejoined the fight with a score to settle.

    The fight was messy, Xander''s movements uncoordinated but still somehow effective. He ducked under a wild swing, felt the whoosh of air as a fist passed just above his head, and used his momentum to deliver a hard elbow to the stomach of the short-haired vampire. The demon doubled over, hissing in pain.

    Okay, you can do this, Xander thought, his breath coming in sharp gasps as he faced off against the three vampires. You''ve got the power, you''ve got the moves. You just need to put it all together and kick some undead ass.

    "Enough of this!" the Gothpire growled, shaking off the effects of the hammer blow. The vampires regrouped, their expressions a mix of frustration and newfound caution. They circled Xander slowly, eyes on him as they hissed like animals.

    They''re getting smarter, Xander realized, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the vampires circle him. They know I''m not just some easy meal.

    He glanced around, looking for anything he could use as a weapon. A broken branch, a sharp piece of stone, anything. Aha! His eyes locked onto a large piece of shattered headstone, the rock lying flat on the ground thanks to the angry goth''s tantrum a minute ago.

    Okay, Harris, he told himself, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a plan. You can''t just keep dodging forever. You gotta take the fight to them.

    He looked at the vampires, studying their movements, their positions. The blonde one was still the most aggressive, his face twisted in a snarl of rage. The girl was more cautious, her eyes darting between Xander and her companions. And the frat boy...

    Wait a minute, Xander thought, his eyes widening as he noticed something. Frat boy''s favoring his right leg. I must have hurt him when I knocked him down earlier.

    A plan began to form in Xander''s mind, a desperate, crazy plan that had about a 50/50 chance of getting him killed. But it was better than nothing, and right now, nothing was all he had.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Alright, Harris, he thought, taking a deep breath as he readied himself. Time to channel your inner Buffy. Let''s do this.

    With a yell that was equal parts fear and determination, Xander charged forward, heading straight for the frat boy vampire. The demon''s eyes widened in surprise, clearly not expecting such a bold move.

    Xander didn''t give him time to react.

    With a burst of speed, he dropped low, sweeping his leg out in a move he''d seen the small blonde do the night before. His foot connected with the vampire''s injured leg, sending him tumbling to the ground with a howl of pain.

    His hand snatched the jagged piece of stone from the ground and he immediately lashed out with a harsh downward thrust, twisting it inside the bloodsucker''s chest. With a look of surprise and a pained gasp, the frat boy''s eyes widened and an instant later, he was nothing but dust on the soil.

    One down, Xander thought, a grim smile on his face as he rose to his feet with his new weapon in hand and spun to face the other two vampires, both looking at him with shocked faces. Two to go.

    "Shit, vampire slayers are real!" A feminine voice yelled out, the words cutting through the calm of his first kill of the night.

    Regaining focus, Xander spotted the female vampire¡ªthe one with mocking eyes¡ªturning to flee, her movements a blur of speed as she tried to escape the unexpected threat. Oh no you don''t, he thought, his legs moving before his mind could even fully process what he was doing.

    Instinctively, he sprinted after her, his newly enhanced speed making him a blur as he closed the distance between them in a matter of seconds. The world seemed to narrow to a tunnel, his focus solely on the fleeing vampire as he pushed himself to move faster, to catch her before she could escape.

    As he gained on her, he leaped, his body moving with a grace and power he was still getting used to. He tackled her to the ground with surprising force, the impact sending them both tumbling across the damp grass and dirt. They hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind out of both of them as they rolled to a stop.

    "Waitwaitwai-" she attempted to plead, her voice muffled by soil as her face was pressed against the ground, Xander''s weight pinning her down.

    "One less vamp for the census," he muttered, his breath heaving as he raised the rock in his hand and straddled her back.

    Without hesitation, Xander thrust the rock through her ribcage from behind, using all of his newfound strength to drive it all the way through her heart. There was a brief, pained gasp, and then another cloud of dust as another vampire crumbled beneath him, leaving nothing but a pile of ash.

    Finally, only the goth vampire remained, looking far less terrifying than he had ever been. As Xander turned to confront him, the vampire''s eyes widened with fear, his bravado and swagger completely gone in the face of the unexpected threat.

    "Wait, wait, wait, can we talk about this, bro?" he stammered, backing up toward the very tree where Xander had been cornered earlier, his hands held up in a gesture of surrender. His voice had lost all its previous drama and gravitas, the guy sounding more like a grocery store clerk than an undead monster. "I''m new. I haven''t killed anybody. This is like... I dunno, murder."

    "Murder?" Xander shot back, a cold rush of determination filling him as he stalked towards the vampire, his eyes narrowed and his jaw set. "You drink people, asshole. You''re already dead. This is just pest control."

    Ignoring the vampire''s pleas, he charged, his feet pounding against the ground as he closed the distance between them in a matter of seconds. He tackled the vampire with all the force of his newfound demonic strength, the impact sending them both crashing into the tree with a sickening crunch.

    As they collided with the trunk, a sharp branch broke free, the jagged end finding its mark in the vampire''s chest as if guided by some unseen force. There was a brief, gurgling sound, a look of shock and pain on the vampire''s face, and then nothing but dust as he met his end, his body crumbling to ash in Xander''s grip.

    Panting, gasping for air, Xander leaned against the tree, his shirt ripped, and his brow sweaty. His hair was a mess, sticking to his forehead in damp clumps, and his hands trembled slightly from the exertion and shock of the fight. I did it, he thought, a sense of disbelief and awe washing over him as he stared at the piles of dust that had once been his attackers. I actually did it. I killed them all.

    "What the hell was that?" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper as he pushed himself off the tree, his legs shaking slightly as he took a step forward.

    "That, my new blood friend, is the power and instincts of a devil," a familiar calm voice sounded out from behind him, the words cutting through the eerie stillness of the graveyard like a knife.

    "Son of a-!" Xander exclaimed, startled into action, his heart leaping into his throat at the sudden intrusion. His body reacted before his brain could process the interruption, launching him three feet off the ground in a surprise jump that would have made any basketball player green with envy.

    Who needs stairs when you can just freak out? he thought to himself as he landed back on solid earth, his feet hitting the ground with a soft thud.

    He spun around to face the newcomer, his eyes locking with the unsettling calm blue of Samuel as the devil stood there with that same amused smirk that seemed to be his default look. Seriously, does this guy have any other facial expressions? Xander wondered.

    "You''ve got a lot of nerve showing up like this again," Xander demanded, his voice ringing with both accusation and curiosity as he took a step forward, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Where''d you go? You just left me here to fend for myself against a bunch of bloodsuckers with a sudden case of superpower-itis."

    "Here and there," Sam replied vaguely, his smirk widening as he waved a hand in a dismissive gesture that only served to irritate Xander further. "How''d you like your first fight?"

    Xander shook his head, bending over with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath, the adrenaline finally starting to wear off and exhaustion setting in. "Very scary. Very crazy. Think I peed a little," he admitted, his voice coming out in a breathless wheeze as he fought to get his heart rate back under control. "Second night in a row."

    "But¡­?" Samuel prompted, an eyebrow raised expectantly as he watched Xander straighten up, a knowing look in his eyes.

    "Very much of the fun still," Xander conceded, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he met Sam''s gaze. His mind was still racing with the thrill of the fight, the rush of power and strength that had coursed through his veins as he took on the vampires.

    I can''t believe I actually enjoyed that, he thought, a mixture of guilt and excitement warring within him.

    "There usually this many vamps rising a night in this town?" Xander asked, his curiosity piqued despite the exhaustion that threatened to overtake him. No idea how we''re all alive, honestly.

    The devil in red shook his head, his expression turning serious as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Eh, it depends," he began, his tone shifting to a more informative one as he explained, "Tonight''s honestly kinda light when you take into account the major slayage your friend did on Friday. The local major vampire clan should be trying to bolster its numbers again. I''d say an average of two to three a night on the weekends, maybe one every other day, usually out of towners, wanderers, stragglers. Weird as it is, most vamps actually don''t really need to drink that much. The Nosferat are actually one of the hungrier clans, you know, behind the Culebra."

    "Wow," Xander responded, his voice flat as he looked down at his hands, flexing them experimentally.

    "Yeah, it''s unfortunate," Samuel added, his gaze drifting across the graveyard, taking in the broken headstones and scattered piles of dust that were all that remained of the vampires Xander had fought.

    "No, yeah, yeah, of course," Xander nodded quickly as he glanced up from his hands, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. "Just still kinda stuck on how strong I am now. Like, I knew I felt different, but actually seeing it in action... it''s a lot to take in."

    Samuel turned to face him fully, mild amusement dancing in his eyes as he took in Xander''s expression. "Yeah, you''re in almost the same realm as a fresh slayer," he explained, his hands tucked casually into his pockets as he spoke. "Little bit slower, a little bit weaker, but even with your body still compensating for being ventilated last night, still a lot tougher. Give it a month or so and your devil blood will settle down. Especially if you take down other demons often enough."

    Xander''s eyes widened in disbelief, a flicker of excitement sparking to life in his chest at the idea of being a threat to the threats instead of a late-night snack. "I''m that strong?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

    The devil smirked, a knowing look in his eyes as he nodded. "And you''ll get a lot stronger," he confirmed, his voice carrying a hint of promise that sent a shiver down Xander''s spine. "Trust me, Xan Man, this is just the beginning. You''ve got a whole new world of possibilities ahead of you now."

    Xander swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. "And you''re not just saying that because as a devil, it''s your job to¡­ I dunno, tempt me and taint my soul and drag me to hell when I die?"

    Sam''s expression went sour in a way that Xander would have laughed at any other time, the look entirely out of place on the laid-back demon''s face. "Tempt you? Taint your soul? You''re joking, right? Homie, you''re a devil. What about this are you not getting? You kinda crossed that rubicon when you died."

    "Hey hey, just asking," Xander raised his hands up as he nodded his head slightly.

    "Hey, you asked for this," Samuel reminded him, his tone turning serious once more. "You wanted the power to make a difference, to put vamps in the dirt. Well, now you''ve got it. This Earth is a shitty place, with potential apocalypses every year, most of them demon related. I wanna keep this blue marble spinning. The question is, do you want to help with that?"

    "Apocalypses every year¡­ Oh my God," Xander whispered, the magnitude of what he was stepping into dawning on him like a ton of bricks. Just as the words left his lips, a sudden, sharp pain pierced his skull, making him wince and clutch his head, his fingers digging into his scalp as if he could physically push the pain away. "Ow! What the hell?!" he exclaimed, his voice tight with discomfort as he squinted through the throbbing ache.

    Sam chuckled slightly, a mischievous glint in his eye as he watched Xander''s reaction. "Ooooh, forgot to mention that," he drawled, sitting atop a nearby tombstone with his hands in his pockets.

    "Mention what?" Xander grumbled, squinting through the pain, one hand still massaging his temples in a futile attempt to alleviate the throbbing. The sensation seemed to pulse with his heartbeat, each thud a hammer against his brain even as it slowly faded.

    Sam''s smile faded into a more serious expression, his brow furrowing slightly. "Remember how I said we Devils are a lot stronger and on a different ''level'' than the demons you''ll ever probably meet?"

    Xander''s other eye snapped open, his hand dropping to his side as he straightened up. "Yeah?"

    "That comes with drawbacks too," Sam explained, his voice smooth and even, sounding more like he was discussing the side effects of a common cold than the drawbacks of being a supernatural being. "Crosses, praying, holy water, really anything Big G related are gonna sting real bad like a migraine while you''re a new blood, even if not used actively as a weapon." He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting Xander''s with a serious intensity. "Especially saying His name, any of them. I''d avoid Big J too, just saying."

    Xander frowned, processing the new information as he rubbed at his forehead, the pain finally starting to vanish completely. "Huh," he muttered. Great, so not only am I a demon now, but I can''t even say the big man''s name without feeling like my head''s gonna explode. Fantastic.

    "You get stronger, might feel like you bumped your toe instead but for right now, you might start burning up if you''re in an active church for too long, honestly," Sam continued, his hands gesturing vaguely at the cross symbols that dotted the graveyard around them. "Run down and abandoned ones, probably gonna make you feel a bit¡­ sore?" He shrugged, looking rather uncertain.

    "You say that like you don''t know," The Harris boy accused, narrowing his eyes at the devil, his tone carrying a hint of suspicion. It was one thing to be turned into a devil without his consent, but to be stumbling around blind to the rules of the game just felt like twisting the knife. How am I supposed to do this if I don''t even know what can hurt me?

    Sam shrugged, an easy lift of his shoulders as if brushing off Xander''s concern. "Sue me," he quipped, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I''ve never been a lowbie. Thanks to genetics and luck, I was on your level as a newborn."

    "...Fine, whatever," the teenager grumbled, crossing his arms. "So, I can''t even mention Big G or Big J without feeling like I''m getting brain surgery?"

    Sam grinned, his teeth flashing white in the moonlight as he nodded. "Pretty much, yeah," he confirmed, his tone almost proud. "But hey, it''s not all bad. You''ve got powers now, remember? Strength, speed, senses, healing, magic¡­"

    Xander snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeah, because that totally makes up for the whole ''can''t go to church without combusting'' thing," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. I''m not gonna lie, it honestly does, he admitted to himself, but I don''t wanna give in too easy.

    "Hey, it''s not like you were a regular churchgoer before," Sam pointed out, his eyebrow raising in challenge. "When''s the last time you even set foot in a church?"

    How does he know... Xander opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again, a frown creasing his brow as he realized he couldn''t actually remember the last time he''d been to church. Probably Easter, when Mom dragged us all to that weird sunrise service, he thought, a vague memory of uncomfortable pews and droning sermons flashing through his mind.

    "That''s what I thought," Sam said, a smug grin spreading across his face as he watched Xander''s expression. "Trust me, Xan Man, you''ll be fine. Make it up to Sinner class and you can hold a cross with barely a sunburn."

    "There''s classes now?" Xander''s voice rose slightly, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise at the new tidbit of information. Everything''s getting more complicated by the minute.

    Samuel laughed, the sound full of genuine amusement as he shook his head, dreadlocks swaying with the motion. "Silly Xander, every society has classes." The devil turned his hand horizontal and held it up by his forehead. "There''s Imps, which is you," He lowered it to his neck, "Sinners," then to his chest, "Fiends," then to his bellybutton, "Archfiends," below his waist, "Demon Lords," and then dropped into a crouch, slamming a palm flat into the ground, hard enough that Xander blinked at the indent he formed, "and then we have the Satans."

    ...okay. I... don''t wanna go... there right now.

    The dark-haired teenager shook his head. "Okay, so what now?" he asked, his voice resigned as he met Sam''s eyes again, the redhead rising to his feet. "I mean, I can''t just go back to my normal life, right? Not with all this..." he gestured vaguely at himself. "So what do I do? How do I... how do I be a devil?"

    Sam smiled, suddenly looking more devious and devil-like than he ever had yet. Xander didn''t like it. "How do you feel about an afterschool job?"

    "...not great."

 New Job I

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    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    Xander stepped into the gym alongside Buffy and Willow, his eyes immediately captivated by the flurry of activity across the room.

    A specific type of activity, at least.

    Cheerleader tryouts were in full swing, a sea of girls stretching, flipping, and tumbling with an energy that seemed to electrify the air. One girl, in particular, caught his eye as she executed a flawless roundoff followed by a back handspring. Wow, sometimes being in this hell of a high school does pay off, he mused, eyes lingering on the girls as they moved.

    Willow''s voice cut through his thoughts, pulling his attention away from the acrobatics slightly. "So, Giles didn''t approve, huh?" she asked, crossing her arms as she walked alongside Buffy ¡ª Xander on the opposite side of the blond. Her green-eyed gaze scanned the gym with a slight frown, arms pressed tight to her chest. Dressed in her patterned long-sleeve shirt and purple velvet jeans, she was the most covered up example of the female species in the place, a stark contrast to the minimally clad cheerleaders doing their best to show their stuff.

    Buffy, walking beside them, scoffed at the mention of her Watcher. "He totally lost his water. Blabbing on about ''common sense, Buffy''. Give me a break. We haven''t even seen a vampire in over a week." She rolled her eyes, her ponytail swishing with the motion as she strutted towards the center of the gym.

    Xander raised his eyebrows at Buffy''s comment, a knowing hum escaping his lips. You''re welcome, by the way, he thought, a small surge of pride rising in his chest. Wish I could brag about that out loud though. Truth be told, a week later and he still had yet to tell anyone about his... changes, least of all the two girls and their resident Brit. He had been a major part of the recent peace, though he would prefer to keep that knowledge away from any of his friends, simply out of self-preservation.

    His gaze drifted back to the cheerleaders, biting his lip as he saw a particularly impressive flip. "Y''know, people scoff at things like school spirit, but look at these girls giving their all like this!" He pointed out a girl performing a perfect split between two chairs, his eyes widening appreciatively. "Oooooh, stretchy."

    Buffy rolled her eyes at Xander''s typical distraction, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth despite herself. "Maybe if you focused half as much on your studies as you do on cheerleaders, you wouldn''t be failing trigonometry," she teased, her tone more playful than serious.

    "Hey, I''m not failing," Xander protested, tearing his gaze away from the gymnastic display to shoot Buffy a mock-offended look. "I''m just... not excelling. There''s a difference."

    Willow, ever the supportive friend, smiled reassuringly at Buffy, choosing to ignore Xander''s academic shortcomings as she usually did. "Well, we''re behind you," she declared with a nod before her eyes shifted to Xander, her expression turning slightly exasperated. "Both of us. Right, Xander?"

    Xander, still somewhat entranced by the flexibility on display, only half-listened to his friends. It was less of him being not sure how to explain it and more of the worry that they''d try to eliminate him, honestly. He could only thank the girls in the gym for being the perfect distraction for his worry about being the next monster Buffy mauled. Maybe an overexaggeration, but I''d still like to keep my head where it belongs, he thought to himself, shoving his hands into his light-washed jean shorts.

    "Huh? Oh, yeah, totally," he agreed absentmindedly, his gaze still firmly on the potential cheerleader limbering up. "One hundred percent behind the Buffster. Go team."

    Buffy, noticing his distraction, nudged him lightly with her elbow, and rolled her eyes before striding off towards the bleachers. Xander snapped his fingers twice, and pointed his finger in Buffy''s direction without looking, his gaze still firmly on the potential cheerleader limbering up, before turning to face Willow, the green-eyed girl shooting him a look.

    "What?" he asked defensively, holding up his hands in a gesture of innocence. "I''m appreciating the... athleticism. It''s very impressive."

    Willow raised an eyebrow, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Uh-huh. I''m sure that''s what you''re appreciating," she said dryly, her tone making it clear she saw right through his flimsy excuse.

    Xander grinned, unrepentant. "Hey, I''m a red-blooded American male. It''s in my DNA to appreciate the female form in all its... bendy glory," he quipped, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Especially when they''re smokin'' hot."

    Willow rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth despite herself. "You''re incorrigible," she informed him, shaking her head as she started to follow Buffy towards the bleachers.

    "I prefer ''charming''," Xander called after her, his grin widening as he watched her go. Okay, maybe ''incorrigible'' is more accurate, he admitted to himself, his gaze drifting back to the cheerleaders once more. But can you blame me? I mean, look at them.

    He allowed himself another moment of appreciation before shaking his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Focus, Harris. Maybe try to stay on the girl''s good side so they''re thinking good Xander things if they find out.

    The thought sobered him, a frown pulling at his mouth. It had been a week since his transformation, a week of sneaking out at night to hunt fresh vampires, a week of lying to his friends about where he was going and what he was doing. He''d say family but neither of his parents cared all that much where he went, Tony especially. It was exhausting ¡ª more mentally than physically, seeing as he could run for a good hour now before needing to catch a breath, at least at night ¡ª and he knew he couldn''t keep it up forever.

    I''m gonna have to tell them eventually, he realized, his stomach twisting at the thought. But how the hell do I even begin to explain this?

    He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to push the thought aside for now. One problem at a time, Harris, he told himself, taking a deep breath as he started to follow his friends towards the bleachers. First, let''s stare at the girls to relax. Then you can worry about the whole ''coming out as a devil'' thing.

    "Where was I?" he asked absentmindedly as he caught up to Willow and Buffy, trying to focus on the moment.

    "Being a bit of a pig," Buffy chirped playfully.

    Willow glanced at him, her expression a mix of fondness and exasperation. "Ogling the cheerleaders," she reminded him, tone dry as the Mojave but a smile on her face.

    Xander grinned, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "Ah, right. The important things in life."

    Willow shook her head, but leaned into his side slightly, a small smile on her face. "You''re hopeless," she informed him, but there was no real heat behind the words.

    Cordelia marched over to where Xander, Willow, and Buffy stood, the popular mean girl in nothing more than a black sports bra with silver star patterns along with a matching pair of booty shorts. Stopping beside Willow, she tossed her brown hair back and scoffed, her expression full of disdain. "Just look at that Amber. Who does she think she is, a Laker Girl?"

    Willow, who had been watching the cheerleader with awe on her face, responded without missing a beat. "I heard she turned them down." Xander smirked as her response did the intended job of getting under Cordelia''s skin, judging by the quick flick of insecurity that crossed her face.

    Score one for Willow, he thought, shooting his best friend a subtle thumbs up. Nothing like a little verbal sparrage to give Cordelia a taste of her own.

    The cheerleading squad leader, a girl in a thin yellow sweater and a ponytail, stepped forward with a clipboard in hand. "Okay, listen up! Let''s begin with," she glanced down at her clipboard, "Amber Grove. If you''re not auditioning, move off the floor."

    As the cheerleaders and spectators shuffled around, Willow spotted a familiar face in a yellow t-shirt. "Amy! Hi!" she called out, waving over the brown-haired girl who was tying her ponytail.

    Amy approached with a nervous smile. "Hi!"

    "I didn''t know you wanted to be a cheerleader!" Willow commented, sounding both surprised and pleased.

    "What about you?" Amy asked curiously, a focused look on her face for a moment.

    Xander raised an eyebrow at the comment, his gaze flicking between the two girls. Willow, a cheerleader? he thought, trying to picture his shy, bookish best friend in the skimpy outfits and pom-poms. Now that''s a mental image.

    "Me?" Willow laughed nervously, her face reddening. "Noooo, I could never¡­" Coughing into her fist, she glanced back at Amy. "You lost a lot of weight, by the way," she continued, sounding both surprised and pleased.

    "Had to," Amy replied shortly, her eyes flicking meaningfully towards the group of cheerleaders. Xander followed her gaze, taking in the slim, toned figures of the girls stretching and warming up. Yeesh, talk about pressure, he mused. No wonder she''s looking so stressed.

    "Do you know Buffy?" Willow turned to introduce her friend.

    "Hi," Buffy said, extending a hand with a friendly smile.

    "As much as I love cheerleading, I hate the competition," Amy muttered, her tone dry as she shook Buffy''s hand.

    Xander smirked at the comment. "Tell me about it," he said, leaning in as he butted in to the conversation. "I''d rather face a horde of hungry vampires than a pack of judgmental cheerleaders any day."

    Amy shot him a curious look, her brow furrowing slightly. "Vampires?" she repeated, sounding both confused and intrigued.

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    Xander''s eyes widened, realizing his slip-up. "Uh, just a joke," he covered quickly, forcing a laugh. "You know, because they''re both bloodsuckers? Haha, get it?" He looked to Willow and Buffy for support, silently pleading with them to play along.

    Buffy rolled her eyes, but gave a small nod. "Ignore him," she advised Amy, shooting Xander a pointed look. "He thinks he''s funny."

    "Hey, I am funny," Xander protested, clutching his chest in mock offense. "You just don''t appreciate my genius."

    Willow patted his arm consolingly, but he could see the amusement in her eyes. "Sure, Xander. Whatever you say."

    Their banter was interrupted by the start of Amber''s routine on the floor, the girl executing a series of impressive moves: a needle-split lift, a double spin, and then an aerial followed by a cartwheel. Jazz slides transitioned into a single spin, capturing everyone''s attention.

    Damn, Xander thought, his eyes widening appreciatively as he watched Amber move. Girl''s got some serious skills.

    Amy leaned closer to Buffy, her voice low. "She trained with Benson. He''s one of the best coaches money can buy."

    Buffy looked genuinely surprised as she turned to face Amy. "They have cheerleading coaches?"

    "Oh, yeah! Don''t you have? I train with my mom, three hours in the morning, three at night," Amy explained, her tone matter-of-fact.

    Xander let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Man, and I thought Buffy''s training schedule was intense," he muttered, earning a sharp elbow to the ribs from the Slayer in question.

    "Ow!" he yelped, rubbing his side with a wounded expression. "What was that for?"

    "For being a doofus," Buffy retorted, but there was no real heat behind her words. "And for the record, my training schedule is perfectly reasonable. Right, Will?"

    Willow held up her hands, looking like a deer caught in headlights. "Hey, don''t drag me into this," she protested, taking a step back.

    Buffy sighed, turning back to Amy with a wry smile. "But honestly, that much quality time with my mom would probably lead to some quality matricide."

    Amy chuckled, nodding in understanding. "Oh, I know it''s hokey. But she''s really great."

    Cordelia, still standing by Willow, turned her back to the routine with a scoff, clearly trying to seem unimpressed. Xander rolled his eyes at her, wondering how someone could be so consistently shallow and self-absorbed.

    As Amber''s routine escalated in intensity, Xander noticed something odd¡ªa smell in the air that was almost bitter. The hell is that? His gaze narrowed as he tried to identify the source, feeling a tension start to build in his gut.

    Something''s not right, he thought, his instincts screaming at him to be on guard. There''s some weird mojo going on here.

    Suddenly, Amber''s hands began to smoke. Xander''s eyes widened, and he pointed. "What the...?" he started to shout, just as Buffy said the same.

    "That girl''s on fire!" Willow exclaimed, her voice pitched high with panic.

    Cordelia, oblivious and looking away, dismissed Willow with another scoff. "Enough of the hyperbole!" she snapped, clearly not paying attention to the unfolding chaos.

    But it was no exaggeration. Amber''s hands burst into flames, the smell of burning flesh filling the air. Dropping her pom poms, she screamed in terror, her voice echoing through the gym.

    Buffy sprang into action, her Slayer instincts kicking in as she raced towards the burning girl. "Buff!" Xander called out, dashing to the bleachers and pulling down a large banner. He hurled it to Buffy, who caught it on the run and used it to tackle Amber to the ground, smothering the flames with the heavy fabric.

    The gym fell silent, every eye fixed on the smoldering banner and the sobbing cheerleader beneath it. Buffy comforted Amber, her voice soft but strained. "It''s okay, it''s okay, you''re gonna be... okay," she murmured, then added under her breath, "God!"

    Xander winced as he approached, the pain from hearing the word ''God'' spiking through his head. Maybe I shouldn''t have called them smoking hot.

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    "What the hell just happened?" Xander slumped back in his chair at the study table in the library, clearly bewildered. Willow, sitting across from him, looked even more confused and a good bit alarmed by what just happened. "Since when do cheerleaders spontaneously combust?"

    Willow shifted uncomfortably, her voice low and tinged with worry. "I don''t know, but something tells me this wasn''t just a freak accident." Her hands fiddled with the edge of her book, her eyes darting around the library.

    Yeah, no kidding, Xander thought. I definitely felt something go down even before it happened. Gotta ask Sam if it''s another weird devil thing.

    Buffy paced back and forth, her steps quick and agitated as she turned to face her friends with a serious look. "I''ve been slaying vampires for more than a year now, and I have seen some pretty cringeworthy things, but... nobody''s hands ever got toasted before."

    Giles emerged from the library''s cage, a dusty tome in hand. "I imagine not," he commented dryly, adjusting his glasses as he walked towards the group.

    Oh, great, here comes the G-man with his usual dose of doom and gloom, Xander mused, bracing himself for how there was a secret race of firestarters no one ever heard about. Although, if they all look like Drew Barrymore, that wouldn''t be the worst thing.

    "So, this isn''t a vampire problem," Buffy concluded, her tone indicating she was piecing together the puzzle.

    Giles confirmed her suspicion with a nod. "No," he said simply.

    Buffy spun around to face him as he passed by her. "But it is funky, right? Not of the norm?"

    Xander couldn''t help but snort at the question. "No, people ''flame on'' all the time. Literally every day," he said with a roll of his eyes.

    Giles, choosing to ignore Xander''s comment, continued. "Quite. Spontaneous human combustion is, is rare, and, and scientifically unexplainable, but there have been cases for hundreds of years. Usually all that''s left is a pile of ashes." He sat on the edge of the table near Willow, his expression sober.

    Well, that''s comforting, Xander thought sarcastically, trying to ignore the chill that ran down his spine at the thought of being ''dusted'' like a vampire.

    Willow piped up, "That''s all that would have been left if it hadn''t been for Buffy." Her voice carried a mix of gratitude and fear, her eyes wide as she looked at the Slayer.

    Are we forgetting someone? Xander questioned silently, shooting Willow a confused look. "So, we have no idea what caused this. That''s a comfort," he said aloud instead, throwing up his hands in mock celebration.

    Giles smiled slightly, trying to offer a more optimistic perspective. "But that''s the thrill of living on the Hellmouth! There''s a veritable cornucopia of, of fiends and devils and, and ghouls to engage." He looked around at the young faces watching him. "Pardon me for finding the glass half full."

    Xander raised his hands half-heartedly and cheered, "Devils, yaaaaay." Buffy shot him a look, her eyebrows raised in disapproval. "No yay?" he asked with a head tilt, trying to look innocent.

    "Not quite worthy of a yay, Xander," Giles chided gently, his lips twitching with the hint of a smile.

    Xander adopted a mock-sad expression, pouting with his arms crossed. "No yay," he repeated, his tone mournful.

    Tough crowd, he thought, suppressing a grin.

    Buffy, ever focused on the task at hand, turned back to Giles. "Any common denominators in cases of spontaneous combustion?"

    Giles thought for a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Uh, rage. In most cases, the person who combusted was terribly angry or upset."

    "So maybe Amber''s got this power to make herself be on fire. It''s like the Human Torch, only it hurts," Xander pondered out loud, gesturing as he spoke.

    Buffy nodded, her expression thoughtful. "I need to get the skinny on Amber. Find out if she''s had any colorful episodes before." She started towards the stairs but paused as Willow stood up.

    Willow beamed, excited to contribute. "That means hacking illegally into the school''s computer system." She stood up with a pep in her step, almost bounding over to Buffy. "At last, something I can do!"

    Go, Willow! Xander cheered silently, proud of his friend''s enthusiasm and skills. That''s our resident computer whiz.

    He stood up, ready to play his part. "I''ll ask around about her," he offered, eager to help in any way he could.

    Buffy hesitated, her concern for her friends evident. "You guys don''t have to get involved."

    Xander grinned. "What d''ya mean? We''re a team! Aren''t we a team?"

    Willow chimed in, her enthusiasm clear. "Yeah! You''re the Slayer, and we''re, like, the Slayerettes!"

    ¡­we''ll workshop it, Will. Xander tilted his head to the side.

    Buffy sighed, her voice soft but firm. "I just don''t like putting you guys in danger."

    Xander laughed lightly. "Oh, huh, I laugh in the face of danger. Then I kick it square in the nuts," he declared, striking a heroic pose.

    "I''m sure." Buffy gave a small smile. "Okay, just walk softly, at least until we know a little more. I mean, what if Amber isn''t causing these problems herself?"

    Good point, Xander thought, sobering up slightly.

    Giles added thoughtfully, "Well, then we have to determine who or what did, and, uh, deal with it accordingly."

    Xander nodded. No problem.

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 New Job II

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    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    No problem, my left buttcheek, Xander thought sardonically as he jogged down the street, his breath catching in his throat not just from the exercise but from the sheer ridiculousness of his situation.

    Asking around about Amber had been as fruitful as a desert cactus. The pretty and popular crowd had given him weird looks, their eyes glazing over the moment he mentioned anything slightly out of the ordinary. Fun fact: the pretty and the popular tend to look down on my kind, weird skater guys who have a reputation for throwing around pop culture references and snarking. It was a harsh reality, but one he was all too familiar with.

    Story of my life, Xander mused, shaking his head as he continued his jog, dodging pedestrians and the occasional stray dog.

    With the case of the spontaneously combusting cheerleader momentarily on hold Xander found his thoughts drifting to his so-called new job. Or at least, what he assumed was supposed to be a job.

    Sam, his mysterious and infuriatingly elusive so-called ''master,'' had barely even been paying attention to him all throughout the week, leaving him alone with Buffy and Willow. Apart from seeing him at times in the halls, he''d be wondering if he hallucinated the whole thing. Hell, the last time they had interacted was a few days back when Sam had pressed a ruby-red pager into his hands with a firm, "don''t lose it," before disappearing into the crowd.

    A pager, really? Xander thought, honestly confused. He''s a devil. Can''t he just speak to me through mirrors or something like that?

    If he didn''t know any better, he would think Sam didn''t really want anything to do with him anymore. Which was both a relief and a frustration. Just what had he signed up for?

    The final school bell had rung not twenty minutes ago, its echo still bouncing in his ears as he stood up from his seat when the pager had beeped to life in his pocket. Fumbling to read the message, he had groaned at the terse command: [Red bldng at end of Maple Ct, nxt 2 mall. Get here.]

    Now here he was, running across town because, for some unfathomable reason, he had forgotten his skateboard at home.

    Guess even half-devils can have off days, Xander thought, his lungs burning as he pushed himself to keep running. Or maybe I''m just naturally forgetful. Who knows?

    The worst part was that his supposed superpowers were apparently solar-powered... or technically the opposite, considering they didn''t kick in until after sunset. And he wouldn''t lose that little backlash for a month or two still.

    Which meant that for the majority of the day, he was just plain old Xander. No enhanced strength, no supernatural speed, nothing. No more Spider-Xan or Super-Xan or Captain Xanmerica.

    He paused for a moment, then shook his head. ...Okay, maybe that last one''s a stretch.

    Figures, Xander grumbled internally, his legs starting to ache as he turned a corner, the mall coming into view in the distance. I finally get powers, and they come with a reverse curfew.

    Feeling cheated was an understatement. He hadn''t given up his soul¡ªat least he hoped not, despite what the literal devil had told him. But what was the point if he couldn''t use his new powers when he actually needed them, like sprinting across town or, more importantly, dunking a basketball?

    I swear, if this turns out to be some kind of prank or hazing ritual, I''m gonna be pissed, Xander thought, his jaw clenching as he pushed himself to run even faster, the red brick building growing closer with each step. I did not sign up to be the devil''s errand boy¡­ or did I?

    By the time he reached the designated location, he was panting, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead and his shirt clinging uncomfortably to his back. The building he stood before was a stark, red brick structure starkly out of place opposite the gleaming modernity of Sunnydale Mall. In red and black gothic lettering, the sign atop the building read [Rosen Queen Co.] and right below that in smaller signage, the words [Sunnydale Branch] .

    Rosen Queen Co.? Xander thought, frowning as he stared up at the unfamiliar name. Never heard of it. Then again, I haven''t exactly been keeping up with the local business directory.

    He glanced around, taking in the empty street and the quiet surroundings. The mall was bustling with activity, shoppers and teenagers milling about, but this little commercial section across the mall seemed almost deserted.

    Xander paused, taking a moment to catch his breath and wipe the sweat from his forehead. "''So, this is what he''s always so busy with across town." Shrugging his shoulders, he held open the front door. "Time to see what fresh hell awaits me on the other side." And like that, he walked in.

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    Xander stepped inside the Rosen Queen Company''s Sunnydale Branch, the door closing softly behind him with a click that echoed slightly in the expansive lobby. ''Huh,'' he thought, raising an eyebrow as he surveyed his surroundings, ''Not what I expected honestly.''

    A blast of air conditioning greeted him as he entered, powerful and brisk. It swept over him like a wave, chilling the sweat on his skin that Sunnydale''s relentless heat had inflicted. Oh, sweet, sweet AC, Xander thought, letting out a soft sigh of relief as the cool air washed over him. I could get used to this.

    The lobby was strikingly designed, with ceilings tiled in a vibrant red that contrasted sharply with the glossy black vinyl floors. The walls, painted an unobtrusive off-white, seemed almost to recede, making the bold colors pop even more. Above, fluorescent lights buzzed softly, casting a bright glow that reflected off the shiny surfaces.

    Wow, they really went all out with the red and black theme, Xander mused, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the decor. It''s like they''re trying to scream ''we''re run by the devil'' without actually saying it.

    Compounding the surreal atmosphere was the music that played softly in the background. It was an odd, melodic tune, as if half a dozen different ice cream trucks were playing at once and somehow sounding... good. "Weird," Xander muttered under his breath, his gaze sweeping across the room.

    View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xVuXU67J3Ys</a></a>

    If this is what hell sounds like, it''s a lot more pleasant than I imagined, he thought, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Then again, I always figured there''d be more screaming and less... whatever this is.

    "Hello!" The sudden voice made Xander jump slightly, his heart skipping a beat as he whirled around to face the source of the sound. It was feminine and melodic, slicing through the odd music and drawing his attention immediately.

    Cheese and rice, warn a guy next time, Xander thought, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart. I''m already on edge here, I don''t need any more surprises.

    Xander turned towards the source of the voice, his eyes landing on a black reception desk situated against a bright red tiled wall. A large sign with the building''s name hung in gothic lettering, starkly black against the red backdrop. Behind the desk stood a short young woman with dirty-blond hair styled in a pixie cut. She wore a tight red-and-black leather dress that seemed almost out of place for an office setting, her smile inviting as she noticed Xander approaching.

    Holy... okay, that''s definitely not standard receptionist attire, Xander thought, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the woman''s outfit. Unless this is some kind of weird demon dress code or something.

    As Xander moved closer, he noticed how bright her eyes were and, more noticeably, there were slight ridges raised on both her cheeks, giving her a literally otherworldly look. "Welcome to the Rosen Queen Company, Sunnydale Branch. I''m Tana. How may I assist you today?" Her voice was as inviting as her smile, her eyelids lowered in a way that almost seemed... lustful.

    Okay, that''s definitely not normal, Xander thought, swallowing hard as he felt his face heat up under the receptionist''s gaze. Unless she''s just really, really friendly.

    She smiled at him, eyelashes fluttering. Or... oh wow, is she flirting with me?

    Stumbling over his words, Xander struggled to form a coherent response. ''Work, brain, I''m begging you, work!'' he pleaded internally, feeling his face heat up with embarrassment. Don''t make me look like an idiot in front of the hot demon receptionist.

    "Do you have an appointment?" Tana continued, the receptionist licking her lips as she looked Xander up and down, her gaze lingering on certain areas longer than others.

    Oh wow, she is flirting with me, Xander realized, his eyes widening even further as he felt a bead of sweat trickle down the back of his neck. Okay, play it cool, Harris. You''ve got this.

    "I..." Xander gulped, his voice squeaking slightly as he tried to remember why he was there. "Uh, S-Sam told me to come here."

    Smooth, real smooth, he chided himself, resisting the urge to facepalm. Way to impress the lady with your eloquence and wit.

    Tana''s expression shifted from professional curiosity to recognition. "Sam?" She paused, her mouth forming a small ''o'' of realization. "You mean, ''Mr. Ash''? Oh, you''re his 3 pm!"

    Mr. Ash? Xander thought, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion. Since when does Sam go by ''Mr. Ash''?

    "...yes?" Xander replied, still not entirely sure what that meant but going with it. Just play it cool, Harris, he reasoned, nodding slowly.

    She pointed towards a door across the lobby. "Up the stairs and right down the hall. You can''t miss it," she instructed with a nod, her professional demeanor returning as she offered him a final smile.

    Stairs, hall, can''t miss it, Xander repeated in his head, trying to commit the directions to memory. Got it. I think.

    "...thanks," Xander managed, his voice steadier now as he nodded back, offering Tana a small smile of his own before turning towards the door.

    Xander made his way up the stairs to the second floor slowly at first, but more quickly after the first landing. He could feel the shift in atmosphere with every echoing step, the air somehow growing warmer with every step, yet somehow even more comfortable than the air conditioned coolness of the lobby. As he exited the stairwell, he was greeted by a hallway that maintained the same stark design; the ceilings a vivid red, the walls a clean off-white, and the floor a glossy black. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a bright but harsh light, making the reds seem even more intense.

    Walking down the hallway, Xander couldn''t help but feel like he was moving through a scene from a stylish noir film¡ªonly with a color palette that aggressively favored red and black. He approached a bright red door framed in black, unmistakable among the otherwise plain hallway decorations. On the door, a black plate with red lettering displayed the name "Samuel L. Ash VI."

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Man, this guy is riding the red and black theme into the ground. Rolling his eyes, he raised his hand to knock but was interrupted by a familiar drawling voice from the other side, "It''s open."

    Pushing the door open, Xander stepped inside and found himself unsurprised by the continuity of the color scheme. The large office was decked out in the same red and black theme as the rest of the building. Sam was sprawled comfortably behind a black-and-red desk, in a black vest and tie along with a red shirt, lounging in a black leather office chair that looked both ridiculously expensive and supremely comfortable. He looked up at Xander with a broad smile, spreading his arms wide. "What do you think?"

    Xander paused, taking in the room with a critical eye before landing his gaze back on Sam. "... I think you''re homesick."

    Sam barked out a laugh, waving his hand to guide Xander into a chair. "See, that''s why I like you, Xan Man. You make me laugh."

    "Oh goody, I give the devil the giggles," Xander deadpanned, sinking into one of the chairs in front of the desk. The leather felt cool against his back. "Maybe when I die, I''ll get the soft pitchfork in my kiester."

    "See, that''s what I mean," Sam grinned, the amusement clear in his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled in front of him. "Always a quip. You know how rare that is? I mean, to do with feeling? You''re actually scared out of your mind and the only way you can fight that is to joke your way through it."

    Xander shifted in his seat, his expression a mix of confusion and hesitant pride. "...thanks?" he ventured, unsure whether he was being complimented or critiqued. I mean, it''s not like I try to be funny, he thought, his brow furrowing slightly. It''s just how I cope. Better than curling up in a ball and crying, right?

    Sam''s expression turned serious, his smirk fading into a more business-like demeanor as he leaned forward, elbows on the desk. "Don''t thank me yet. I''ve got work for you."

    "Finally," Xander blurted out before he could stop himself, relief and excitement mixing in his voice. It''s about time, he thought, straightening up in his chair.

    Sam paused, raising an eyebrow at Xander''s outburst, the look on his face unreadable.

    "Just wondering when you''d actually have me start doing devil stuff, you know," Xander added quickly.

    "...now," Sam stated flatly.

    "Just wondering," Xander repeated defensively, raising his hands in a placating gesture. Okay, maybe a little too eager there.

    "Well, no more wondering," Sam replied, standing up from his chair and walking around the side of his desk to lean against it, arms crossed over his chest. "You''re officially an employee of Rosen Queen, same as Tana downstairs, but with more authority cause a, you''re a devil and b, you''re my Pawn."

    Xander perked up at that, his eyes widening slightly. "...do I get an office?" he asked, half-joking but also half-serious. Please say yes, please say yes, he chanted in his head, already imagining himself lounging behind a big fancy desk, feet propped up as he barked orders at underlings.

    "...We''ll see."

    Xander couldn''t help the grin that spread across his face at the possibility. "Nice."

    Sam stared at him for a moment, eyes slightly narrowed. "...Not gonna ask about the Pawn thing?"

    "No, not really," he said, his gaze wandering around the office, taking in every detail before settling back on Sam.

    "Wait, I do have a question though," a thought occurred to him, his brow furrowing. "What does this place even do anyway?" he asked, gesturing at the room around them.

    Sam pushed off from the desk, allowing Xander to see his outfit in full. The dreadhead was dressed in a matching pair of black dress pants to match his vest, a pair of red leather shoes on his feet to round out the entire outfit. Snazzy, Xander thought, taking in the devil''s attire. Guess even hell has a dress code.

    "The Rosen Queen Company is my pet project. We are something of a retail corporation with a focus on specialty items catering towards innovation and inclusivity for entities spanning from demons to humans with a penchant for the arcane," Sam explained, his voice taking on a slightly more formal tone. "We specialize in a vast array of products and services tailored to meet the unique needs of its diverse clientele and h-"

    "Demon Wal-Mart, got it," Xander quipped, interrupting his boss. Makes sense, he thought, nodding to himself. Even demons need to shop, I guess.

    "...yeah, pretty much," Sam admitted with a resigned sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly.

    Xander''s grin widened, sensing an opportunity for more banter. "And my job is, what, to be a greeter?" he smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Cause I think the hottie at the front could do a better job than I ever could."

    Sam''s expression turned a bit more serious again, blue eyes narrowing slightly. "No," he replied slowly, his tone a mix of amusement and sternness as he eyed Xander across the desk. "That''s not your job. And also, if Tana hits on you, don''t encourage her."

    Xander''s eyebrows shot up, his interest piqued. "Why?" he asked, his grin turning mischievous as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Is it ''cause she''s too old for me?"

    "Homie, we''re devils, you''re old enough. I really don''t care," Sam shot back, his hand slicing through the air. His expression was serious, though, clear in his tone. "It''s just that she''s a Vimite demon. You don''t have the durability or stamina to handle what she''ll do to you."

    Xander''s eyes widened. Not the worst way to go, though, he thought, his imagination briefly taking a wild turn before snapping back to the conversation. Death by sexy demon secretary.

    "I don''t need to read your mind to read your face. No fraternizing with my help," Sam added sharply, catching Xander''s momentarily distracted gaze. "I don''t feel like healing your broken pelvis, spine and/or soul because you were stupid."

    "Aw," Xander shook his head, feigning disappointment even as he mentally filed away the knowledge of Tana''s demonic nature for later. Probably best not to mess with that, he admitted to himself, deciding to look through Giles'' books later. At least not until I know what I''m dealing with.

    "Whatever, I''ll live," he said aloud, shrugging.

    "As long as you stay away from Tana after hours, yeah," Sam shot back.

    "What''s my job again?" he asked, redirecting the topic back to the important stuff.

    "Simple," Samuel snapped his fingers, and a piece of paper appeared in his hand in a flash of red. "You handle contracts," Sam continued, holding up the paper for Xander to see. It was covered in strange symbols and runes.

    "Hmm, Hmm," Xander nodded thoughtfully, pretending to understand what he was looking at for a moment. "...and contracts are?"

    Sam smirked. "Short answer: I have some employees hand out flyers with these runic circles on them to the greedy and supernaturally aware folks in town. People drop some blood on them when they wanna make a wish. Devil shows up, wish gets answered, you get a tiny little permanent boost of power from the deal, and as your King, so do I."

    "...power," Xander narrowed his eyes slightly, a question on his mind. "You mean, like their soul?"

    Samuel''s smirk vanished again, a sigh escaping his lips. "No, for the third time, no soul. Not unless they want to pay with their soul and even then," the Fiend demon shook his head, dreadlocks swaying with the motion, "it''s not the most effective payment structure. Makes us look bad, too."

    The teenager shrugged. "Alright¡­ I guess, but where''s the power come from then?"

    The devil in a suit rolled his eyes. "I gotta write you a pamphlet or something, this is gonna get annoying quick," he said with a groan, rubbing his nose.

    "Look, you don''t have to exp-" Xander raised his hands defensively.

    "Shut up," Sam raised a finger, cutting him off as the redhead raised his gaze. "Here''s the quick and easy. People use the word soul to talk about a lot of things and they''re wrong and stupid for that, but it''s simple so whatever."

    "I''m with you." No, I''m not.

    "No, you''re not, shut up," Sam shot back, the quick response making Xander''s eyes widen.

    Is he reading my m-

    "No, I''m not reading your mind. I told you, your face is just... your face," Sam interrupted with a sigh, narrowing his eyes at him. "Also, you''re gonna naturally get better at that. The lying thing. Don''t worry, it''s genetic or¡­ metaphysical¡­ metaphysically genetic?" He glanced to the side, squinting for a moment, before looking back over at Xander. "I was talking about the soul, right?"

    Xander kept his face blank, doing his best to hold back a laugh. "You were doing that, yeah."

    "Shut up, anyway¡­ the soul is actually made up of three parts," Sam continued, holding up three fingers. "The affectus, animus, and the vitus. Right off the bat, forget affectus," he pulled down one finger with the other hand, "nobody gives three fucks about that. It''s emotions and morals and the part that makes you instinctively feel bad when you do bad. That''s the part of the soul that vampires get rid of to make way for more demon animus," he held down his middle finger, focusing a look at Xander, "aka "primal force" or "animating force" in the soul space, the instincts and physical power of a thing, okay? Example A, vampires become psychopaths because of demon predatory instinct replacing their human social instinct. Example B, some free-floating animus, enough of it at least, can form a poltergeist or something, because it''s a remnant of strong emotions, instincts and ideas of a dead person, but not a real ghost."

    Xander nodded slowly. "Okay."

    Sam snorted, shaking his head again. "And last, but certainly not least, we got the Vitus, the vital part of a soul, the heart, not like emotionally but like¡­ the part that makes you you, like you you. This is the thing that makes a ghost an actual ghost that can think and respond because it''s the actual vital personal part of a soul. We get a little bit of human animus, basically stamina and physical energy which grows back pretty quickly in general, but for us Devils, it gets permanently added to our standard level with every contract, boosting us up a little bit. You get me?

    Xander processed the information quickly, nodding in understanding. Okay, so demonic Make a Wish gives you more energy, got it, he thought, his mind racing with the possibilities. Except instead of getting a trip to Disneyland, you get... anything else you want? "Alright, easy peasy," he said aloud, rubbing his hands together. "Where do I go?"

    "Well, traditionally, I''d have a magic circle set up to teleport you to your contractor," Sam explained, his voice taking on a teasing tone that made Xander''s stomach sink.

    "...traditionally?" Xander echoed, a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. "Meaning not currently."

    "Yeah, I figured you could use the exercise," Samuel grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ever heard of Uncle Bob''s Magic Cabinet?" His grin widened as he tossed the contract paper at Xander, who caught it with a fumbling grasp.

    Xander let out a groan, slumping in his chair as he recalled the place. "That''s all the way on the north side of town."

    "You better start running, then."

    </article>

 New Job III

    New Job III

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    Two days later, Xander was at school irritated and frustrated.

    That same day, after he had made it all the way to "Uncle Bob''s Magic Shop", the Bob in question just sent him back, shaking his head almost disgusted, as he said, "Ain''t no way in hell I''m gonna believe you''re a Fiend, kid. No practical jokes here, no sirree."

    I can''t believe that guy, Xander thought, his jaw clenching as he replayed the memory in his head. I bust my ass to get to his shop, and he just brushes me off like I''m some punk kid playing a prank. Unbelievable.

    Heading back to the Rosen Queen had him quickly head back home as Tana informed him that "Mr. Ash just went out of town, he should be back tomorrow morning. Would you like to leave a message?"

    Cleared up? Sure, Xander thought sarcastically, rolling his eyes at the memory of Sam''s message on his beeper the next day telling him "Evrythng cleared up. Go to Magic Shop." More like he just didn''t bother to tell the guy I was coming. Typical.

    But what the Magic Shop guy wanted him to do was the most annoying thing of all. The old guy¡ªapparently some kind of minor wizard because why not?¡ª said he needed a special ingredient that came from the bones of something called a Chalk Goblin.

    A Chalk Goblin? Xander had thought at the time, his brow furrowing in confusion. What the hell is a Chalk Goblin?

    Oh, just a six foot tall ape-like gray-skinned demon with off-white bones sticking out of not only their faces, but their arms, and their legs and their chests. Like an uglier, anorexic version of Doomsday and he, Super-Xan, had to kill one and haul it back.

    Easy enough, right? Xander thought, inner monologue absolutely dripping with sarcasm.

    Wrong.

    First, he had to hike his way miles out of town, all the way down to the old abandoned quarry that was apparently a thing.

    Then, he had to pretend to be sleeping for this demon to attack him and drag him back to its cave to eat him alive.

    Joy, Xander thought, his mind flashing back to the long, arduous trek through the woods and then the desert, the cold night air biting at his skin as he stumbled over roots and rocks. Nothing like a midnight stroll through the wilderness to really get the blood pumping. And by pumping, I mean oozing out of various wounds.

    As strong as the Chalk Goblin was, and it was pretty damn strong, he was stronger.

    Well¡­ slightly.

    So, with a fight that took way too long and left his clothes dirty, tattered and all around ruined, he hauled the demon''s carcass back in the dead of night, journeying miles back into Sunnydale to deliver it to Uncle Bob, just for the man to go, "Wow, I guess you are a Fiend, kid, or something. Really thought you bastards were a made up story, no offense. Hell, I honestly expected you to die for wasting my time."

    Ungrateful asshole, Xander thought, his fists clenching at his sides as he remembered the wizard''s dismissive tone. No offense, for what exactly, the ''bastard'' or the ''made up story''? I risk my life to get him his precious ingredient, and that''s all he has to say? Not even a thank you?

    He wasn''t sure if it was the devil in him, but Xander had been sorely tempted to introduce that guy to the same type of hurt he gave the Chalk Goblin. Thankfully, I have more self-restraint than that, he thought, taking a deep breath to calm himself. Barely.

    The $1500 dollar check Tana gave him the next day made it a lot more tolerable, honestly. A lot, Xander admitted silently, his eyes widening slightly as he remembered the feeling of the crisp bills in his hand. Guess being a devil''s errand boy has its perks after all.

    If that was all, he might not be so irritable. Might, Xander thought, his jaw clenching again as he walked through the halls of Sunnydale High, the familiar sounds of lockers slamming and students chattering grating on his nerves.

    But noooooo.

    Now, he was back at school and this was happening.

    "A Bloodstone Vengeance hex," Giles announced, the Watcher standing over Buffy in the library, the Slayer lying back in a chair with a cold compress on her forehead and Willow supporting both Buffy''s head and the compress with her hands.

    "A what?" Xander asked, voice flat and teeth gritted. He simply stood there and fumed, his hands gripped into tight fists by his sides.

    "Bloodstone Vengeance hex," the British man repeated as he took Buffy''s pulse with two fingers before shaking his head, his brow furrowed in concern. "Hits the body hard like a, a quart of alcohol, and then it e-eradicates the, uh, immune system."

    "She gave Buffy magic AIDs," Xander thought, his jaw clenching as he tried to keep his anger in check. Fan-freakin''-tastic. "Tell me you''re joking, Giles.

    "More of a curse, really," Giles added on, more to himself than anyone else. "A vengeance curse," he clarified, as if that made it any better.

    Xander just stared at him, his expression a mix of disbelief and frustration. "A vengeance curse," he parroted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "We''ve got a witch so obsessed with being a cheerleader she''s ready to kill anyone just to get on the team." And I thought Cordelia was bad, he thought, shaking his head in disgust. At least she just uses her words to cut people down, not actual curses.

    Buffy''s voice was weak as she spoke up from her prone position, her face pale and lined with pain. "Also¡­ also ''cause she knows I know she''s a witch."

    Willow''s eyes snapped from Xander to Giles, her expression a mix of panic and determination. "We need to get her some medical help! Some morphine, antibiotics, something!" she exclaimed, her hands trembling slightly as she held the compress to Buffy''s forehead.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    Xander shook his head, his expression grim. "This is magic, Wills," he said, his voice soft but firm. "I don''t think some guy with a 4 year degree is gonna be able to fix this."

    Magic, he thought, his mind flashing back to his own recent experiences with the supernatural. It always comes down to magic.

    Giles nodded in agreement, his expression somber. "Quite," he said simply, his gaze drifting back to Buffy''s prone form.

    Willow bit her lip, her eyes wide and frightened. "So what do we do?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

    Giles sighed, rubbing his temples as he spoke. "The others she just wanted out of the running. Buffy, she intends to, um..."

    "Kill?" Buffy finished for him, her voice weak but her expression deadly serious.

    Giles coughed awkwardly, his gaze darting away for a moment before he met Buffy''s eyes again. "In simple terms, y-yes."

    Willow''s voice was barely above a whisper as she asked the dreaded question that was on all their minds. "How much time do we have?"

    Giles hesitated, expression pained as he tried to find the right words. "Oh, uh, I''m sure, uh..."

    "Truth. Please," Buffy demanded weakly, her eyes boring into Giles with an unusual intensity for the small Slayer.

    Giles sighed again, his shoulders slumping slightly as he spoke. "Couple of hours... Three at most."

    Xander felt like he had been punched in the gut, the air rushing out of his lungs in a sharp exhale. Three hours, he thought, his mind reeling at the revelation. We have three hours to save Buffy''s life, or she''s gonna die. He could smell it around Buffy, that same bitter smell he had around Amy, like something stinging his nostrils, almost coppery.

    Willow''s voice was high and panicked as she spoke again, her eyes wide with fear. "How?" she demanded, her grip on Buffy''s shoulder tightening slightly.

    Giles blinked, taken aback by the intensity of her question. "Um, what?" he asked, confusion coloring his tone.

    "How do we reverse the spell?" Willow clarified, her voice trembling but determined.

    Giles''s expression cleared as he understood what Willow was asking. "Well I, I''ve been researching that, and, uh, we can reverse all the spells if, um..." he paused, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes wearily. "...we can just lay our hands on, on Amy''s spell book."

    Willow swallowed hard, her face paling slightly at the thought. "And if we can''t get a hold of it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

    Xander''s expression darkened, his eyes flashing with barely contained rage. "Then we burn the witch," he growled, his fists clenching at his sides.

    Giles cast a worried and frightened look at Xander, taken aback by the intensity of his statement. But after a moment, his expression shifted to one of determined resignation. "Well, among other ways, but, but yes," he agreed, his voice heavy.

    "It''s not Amy''s fault." Buffy''s voice was weak but insistent as she spoke up again, her eyes pleading as she met Xander''s gaze. "She only became a witch to survive her mother."

    Xander''s expression softened slightly at Buffy''s words, but the determination in his eyes didn''t fade. "Look, I don''t care why, I honestly don''t really care about Amy that much," he said firmly. "You saved my life. You saved Willow''s life. I owe you mine and hers. For that, I just want to make sure you keep breathing for as long as I can make it happen."

    Buffy''s eyes widened slightly, a faint blush coloring her pale cheeks. "Xander..."

    Willow stared at Xander, her mouth dropping open slightly in surprise. "Wow," she said simply, her voice filled with a mix of awe and admiration.

    Buffy tore her gaze away from Xander, her expression turning serious as she focused on Giles again. "Giles, where would she be casting these spells?" she asked, voice weak but as determined as Xander''s face.

    Giles blinked, his focused gaze tearing away from Xander as he turned back to Buffy. "Oh, she needs a, a sacred space. A-a-a pentagram, um, large pot."

    Buffy nodded, her expression grim. "Her home. Okay. Help me up," she said, struggling to sit up in her chair.

    Xander shook his head, his expression brooking no argument. "No," he said firmly, crossing his arms over his chest.

    Buffy blinked, confusion coloring her features. "What?" she asked, her voice weak but filled with surprise.

    The three other occupants of the room stared at Xander, confusion written plainly on their faces.

    Xander sighed, uncrossing his arms as he met each of their gazes in turn. "You and Willow stay here," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. He turned to Willow, expression serious. "Buffy''s dying by the minute. You need to find something to keep her from falling apart inside and Buffy can''t strain herself."

    Willow nodded, her expression as determined as his even as her eyes shone with unshed tears. "I''ll do my best," she promised, her grip on Buffy''s shoulder tightening reassuringly.

    Xander nodded, his gaze shifting back to Giles. "I''m not good at fast reading like Willow and we need someone here to keep an eye on the Buffster to keep her from doing something stupid. What I do have is youthful energy," he continued, his mouth turning up into a smirk. "Me and Giles''ll check Amy''s house."

    Buffy''s eyes widened. "Uh! No!" she protested weakly.

    Xander raised an eyebrow, expression clearly amused. "Dying girl says what?" he quipped, tone dry as the Mojave.

    Buffy blinked, confusion coloring her features once more. "What?"

    Xander nodded, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Exactly," he said, his voice smug. "Do us both a favor and stay put, cheerleader."

    He turned to Giles, his expression sobering once more. "Come on, G-Man. Let''s move."

    Giles blinked, taken aback by Xander''s sudden take-charge attitude. "Uh, uh, certainly," he agreed, his voice stuttering slightly as he tried to regain his composure.

    Xander nodded, his expression determined as he turned and walked towards the library doors, unaware of the three behind him sharing a look. Hang on, Buff. We''re gonna fix this. I promise.

 New Job IV

    New Job IV

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    ?

    Giles and Xander pulled up to Amy''s house in the librarian''s old car, both of them quickly getting out and rushing to the door. A firm expression on his face, Xander quickly knocked on the door, his knuckles rapping sharply against the wood. Come on, come on, he thought impatiently, his foot tapping against the porch. We don''t have time for this.

    After nobody answered after a moment, Xander quickly knocked again, his expression growing more and more frustrated with each passing second. Another second passed and the sixteen-year-old impatiently knocked again, his fist pounding against the door with increasing force.

    Seriously, what the hell? he thought, his jaw clenching as he fought the urge to just kick the door down. Buffy''s life is on the line here, and this witch can''t even be bothered to answer the door?

    Finally, an older woman who Xander could only assume was Amy''s mom opened the door, a brown-haired woman with her hair in an updo. She looked at them with a mix of confusion and annoyance, her brow furrowed as she took in their agitated expressions.

    "Who are you? Wha, um, uh, is there something wrong?" she asked, her voice hesitant and slightly suspicious.

    Giles stepped forward, his expression grave. "Mrs. Madison, we need to talk to you about your daughter."

    Mrs. Madison''s expression shifted, her eyes widening slightly before she shook her head. "I''m not allow... You''ll have to come back later," she said, starting to close the door.

    But Xander was having none of it. He held the door open with one hand, pushing his way inside with a determined expression on his face. "Yeah, no," he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument.

    Giles followed him inside, his expression apologetic but no less determined. "Excuse us!" he said, his voice raised slightly as he pushed past Mrs. Madison.

    "What?!" Mrs. Madison exclaimed, her expression a mix of shock and outrage as she watched them barge into her home.

    Xander stepped forward, his finger jabbing in the older woman''s face as he spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "Listen, lady, your daughter is messing with someone she shouldn''t be and hurting people, important people. You need to get her under control."

    Mrs. Madison blinked, her expression shifting to one of confusion and defensiveness. "Uh, I don''t know what you''re talking about," she said, her voice wavering slightly.

    Giles shook his head, his expression grim. "Oh, I think you know only too well," he said, his voice heavy with accusation.

    Mrs. Madison''s eyes darted between the two of them, her expression growing more and more nervous with each passing second. "You''ve got to go," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "She''s gonna be home soon, and you..."

    But Xander cut her off, his voice rising with each word as his anger and frustration boiled over. "A friend of mine is dying right now ''cause of your dumb jealous obsessive little brat of a daughter..." he snarled, his fists clenching at his sides.

    Seriously, what the hell is wrong with this family? he thought, his mind racing with a mix of anger and disbelief. Who raises a kid to be so messed up that they''d curse someone just for being better than them at something?

    Giles nodded, his own expression twisting with anger as he spoke. "This young man is right! You will shut up and listen right now! Your daughter has access to some very powerful magicks, and somehow your obsession with cheerleading has made..."

    But Mrs. Madison cut him off, dropping to the couch with a heavy sigh. "I don''t care about cheerleading!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with a mix of frustration and resignation. "It''s not my fault she''s doing stuff."

    Xander''s eyes glanced down next to Mrs. Madison''s feet, noticing a plate of brownies under the table. His expression shifted to one of confusion as the anger bled away somewhat, replaced by a growing sense of unease. Wait... he thought, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. What the hell?

    Giles, oblivious to Xander''s sudden realization, continued to lay into Mrs. Madison. "As her mother, you should assume some responsibility for her actions," he said firmly, his voice filled with disappointment and anger.

    Mrs. Madison let out a laugh, the sound harsh and bitter in the quiet of the living room. "Well, you know, these kids today! I..." she said, her voice trailing off as she seemed to calm down a bit. "She''s out of her mind. Ever since dad, her dad... left..."

    But Xander had heard enough. "Shut up," he said tersely, his voice low and dangerous as he locked eyes with Mrs. Madison.

    Mrs. Madison blinked, her expression shifting to one of surprise and fear. "W-what?" she stammered, her eyes wide.

    Giles looked at Xander, his own expression confused and concerned. "Xander?" he asked, his voice questioning.

    But Xander ignored him, his gaze never leaving Mrs. Madison''s face as he spoke. "Amy used to show up at Willow''s house all the time because her mom was such a psycho when it came to food," he said, his voice low and filled with a mix of anger and realization. "She would lock the fridge for weeks at a time and only eat broth. Amy would come over to Willow''s house and I''d see her... see her eating brownies and I used to feel bad because at least my parents didn''t starve me... on purpose."

    Giles blinked, his expression shifting to one of confusion and concern. "Xander, what is this..." he started to ask, but Xander cut him off.

    Crouching down so that he was eye level with Mrs. Madison, Xander spoke again, his voice low and filled with a mix of anger and disgust. "Hello, Amy," he said simply, his gaze never leaving the woman''s face.

    Giles looked between Xander and Mrs. Madison, his expression one of utter confusion. "I don''t understand," he said, his voice hesitant.

    But Xander knew. He knew with a certainty that he couldn''t explain, but that he felt deep in his gut. "That bitch took your body," he said, his voice filled with a mix of anger and sympathy.

    Amy looked down, defeated, her expression one of utter hopelessness and despair.

    Giles blinked, his eyes widening as the truth finally dawned on him. "Good Lord!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with a mix of horror and disbelief.

    Xander nodded, his expression grim. "She wanted her youth back," he said simply.

    Amy looked back up at him, her eyes filled with tears. "She said I was wasting mine. So she took it."

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

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    They had moved quickly with Amy''s help, finding and snatching her mom''s spellbook from its hiding place and hightailing it back to Sunnydale High just as it was getting dark, the Sunnydale High Bobcats already a few minutes into the game and the cheerleaders doing their thing.

    Xander felt the sun set more than he saw it, his new strength returning in full, and his anger only growing more and more intense as they rushed into the Chemistry lab, Buffy already in there with Willow, the blonde lying on a table, pale and clammy as ever.

    Hang on, Buff, Xander thought, his jaw clenching as he took in the sight of his friend, her skin ashen and her breathing shallow. We''re here. We''ve got the book. We''re gonna fix this.

    Giles had already set down the ingredients needed to reverse the body-switching curse, frogs and all. The librarian folded his coat and put it under Buffy''s head as a pillow, the girl barely able to move as she let out a weak moan, the sound tearing at Xander''s heart.

    "I''m gonna stop this. I promise," Giles said to Buffy, his voice low and filled with determination as he met her gaze.

    Xander turned to the Watcher, his expression grim. "How is she?" he asked, his voice tight with worry.

    Giles shook his head, his expression somber. "We only have a few minutes left," he said with a heavy voice.

    Xander felt his heart sink at the words. A few minutes, he thought, his fists clenching at his sides. Is that gonna be enough time?

    He shot both Giles and Willow a firm look before turning a sympathetic one to Amy. "Then you guys do your thing in here," he said, his voice hard. "I''ll keep your crazy body-snatching bitch of a mom from crashing the party."

    With that, Xander left the room, his expression firm and his fists clenched as he closed the door behind him. Even from outside and down the hall, he could hear Giles chanting, his senses working on overdrive as he tried to tamp down his anger.

    Focus, Xander, he told himself, taking a deep breath as he walked down the hall, his footsteps echoing loudly in the empty corridor. You''ve got a job to do. Keep Amy''s mom away from the others, no matter what it takes.

    "She''s coming!"

    Xander''s eyes narrowed as he heard the sound of Amy''s mother''s voice from the Chemistry Lab, well aware of who she was referring to. Speak of the devil, he thought, his lips twisting into a humorless smirk.

    And, a few seconds later...

    "Amy!" Catherine-in-Amy Madison shouted, her voice echoing down the hall as she stormed towards the lab, her eyes blazing with fury.

    Xander stepped forward to meet her, his expression hard as he stood in her path, his arms crossed over his chest. "Mind if I cut in?"

    "Get out of my way!" the teenage woman shouted again, voice nearly a screech. She raised her hand, a ball of fire forming in her palm, the flames casting an eerie glow on her face.

    "Whoa, easy there!" Xander yelped, diving to the side as she hurled the fireball at him. It blasted against the lockers behind him, leaving a faint scorch mark on the metal. Too close for comfort, he thought, his heart pounding in his chest.

    "I said, move!" Catherine shouted again.

    "No way, you old bitch!" Xander spat back, his fists clenching at his sides as he glared at the woman wearing her daughter''s face. "Give Amy back her body first!"

    Catherine snarled, the expression odd on Amy''s face, seeming almost haglike. "What and let her ruin it, stuffing her fat little face with brownies and cake? I''m actually making something of her life!" She raised her hand again, electricity crackling between her fingers.

    Xander groaned, throwing back his head as he dodged another blast of magic, the lightning scorching the wall behind him. "Yeah, yeah, we get it, no one likes being old. You don''t feel pretty anymore, you miss highschool, this bit is older than you are, lady."

    The witch flinched at the insult, her expression outright twisting into a mask of rage. "You little shit!" she spat, her voice dripping with venom. She thrust her hand out, an almost invisible burst of wind slamming into Xander''s chest, sending him stumbling back a few steps.

    Xander smirked, his fists raised in a boxer''s stance as he stared her down, ignoring the slight twinge in his ribs. "Better than a dried up old hag," he taunted, his eyes flashing with defiance.

    Amy''s mother raised her arm, growling as she held up her hand like she was grabbing Xander''s neck. The teenager felt a slight pressure around his throat, but didn''t move, even as the pressure tightened slightly as she made a fist and twisted it.

    Is that all you got? Xander thought, his smirk widening as he stared down the witch. Feels like a first grader''s choking me.

    For as much effort as the woman seemed to be exerting, judging from the sweat on her forehead, Xander could barely feel a thing. "That your Darth Vader impression, or was it actually supposed to do something?" he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

    The witch''s eyes widened, her face paling slightly as she stared at him in disbelief. "What... what are you?" she whispered.

    Xander''s grin widened, his teeth flashing in the dim light of the hallway. "Your worst nightmare, lady," he said simply, his voice low and dangerous as he took a step towards her.

    "S-stay back!" Catherine stammered, her hand shaking as she raised it again, another fireball forming in her palm. "I''m warning you!"

    "Ooh, I''m shaking in my boots," Xander mocked, rolling his eyes. "What are you gonna do, give me a bad perm?"

    With a shriek of rage, Catherine hurled the fireball at him, the flames burning white-hot as they streaked towards his face. Xander ducked, the heat singeing his hair as the fireball passed over his head, exploding against the wall behind him.

    Okay, that one was a little too close, he thought, his heart pounding in his chest as he straightened up, his eyes narrowing.

    In a flash, Xander rushed forward and grabbed the witch from behind, his arm around her neck in a relatively light hold that had her stop struggling in only a few seconds. Taking a moment to check her breathing, Xander heaved a sigh of relief. Alrighty, body still safe for Amy, he thought, his grip loosening slightly as he held the witch in place.

    Only a few seconds later, a healthy Buffy rushed out of the lab, Giles and Willow behind her carrying an unconscious and bruised Catherine Madison. Xander grinned up at them, his expression one of relief and triumph. "Hey, guys, what''d I miss?"

 Hate This Town I

    Hate This Town I

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    Graveyard #12

    Sunnydale, California

    11:12 PM, A School Night

    Into every generation, a slayer is born: One girl in all the world, a Chosen One.

    A small blonde stood in the heart of a once-quiet graveyard, her expression focused. Her hair flowed down to her shoulders, the only thing keeping too much of it out her face being a white barrette. In her hand, she held up a wooden stake, the tip of it sharpened to a threatening anddeadlypoint.

    She alone will wield the strength and skill to fight the vampires, the demons and the forces of darkness.

    Roars and hisses filled the air as the ground shifted and pale clawed hands began to dig their way free from the graves that once held their unmoving bodies.

    To stop the spread of their evil -

    In barely any time at all, three yellow-eyed vampires stood above ground once more, their bodies hunched as they rushed hungrily toward what they saw as their first meal.

    As usual, the girl didn''t hesitate.

    Moving fast enough that she was almost a blur, she jabbed the stake in her hand through the chest of the first bloodsucker, a brown-haired man that would have bemoaned his unlife if he still had a soul to speak of.

    In the blink of an eye, the vampire''s body became a cloud of glowing green dust.

    - And the swell of their number.

    Buffy didn''t stop.

    Still in motion, the girl rushed past the second vampire, a brown-haired woman in a blue top Buffy might have called ''too much'', if she was in the mood to speak to the freshly risen. Leaping and spinning into the air, the girl drove her trusty stake through the slutty vampire''s back, before dropping to the ground.

    She is The Slayer.

    Both her kills done so quickly that neither of the ashes had yet to fully fall to the ground, still possessed of that greenish glow, the third yellow-eyed bloodsucker could only stare in alarm as Buffy stared him down.

    He turned to run, fear propelling him as fast as his unblooded corpse could carry him, and dashed past another potential victim, a tall bespectacled figure in a full three-piece tweed suit, the man engrossed in a book even as he raised his head slightly and called out to his charge with a somewhat bored tone. "One left, Buffy."

    The girl smirked, reaching for a wreath balanced against a gravestone. "On it."

    With superhuman strength, she hurled the thing and it flew hard and fast. It slammed into the back of the fleeing vampire''s skull with an audiblethwack, sending the monster screaming into an open grave.

    Only to fall right onto the wooden handle of a shovel, his body turning to ashes a second later.

    "You had a bit of luck with that slaying," the man said, casually adjusting his glasses with his index.

    Buffy scoffed with a smirk on her face. "C''mon, Giles, give a girl credit," she replied, both hands on her hips. "I''m still in a bad mood over losing out on a potential hottie."

    "Potential ''hottie'' aside," Rupert Giles continued, matching her smirk with a slight smile of his own, "you did eliminate the Anointed One, which is to be commended. More than that, your vampire-slaying skills have improved greatly in the last few weeks."

    Buffy turned to her Watcher, a conflicted look on her face. "Improved enough you think Willow and Xander might stay out of danger?"

    The librarian could only grimace, looking aside rather than directly at his Slayer. "...That rather depends on them, doesn''t it? At the very least, you can at least be happy they''re safe in their beds now."

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    The late night was dark in Sunnydale, the streets eerily calm as Xander strolled past the zoo, tossing a stake into the air with a practiced flick of his wrist. Each time it spun, catching the faint moonlight, before he snatched it back, the wood feeling increasingly familiar in his grip. The repetitive motion was almost soothing, a physical manifestation of his growing confidence in his newfound role as a vampire hunter.

    He was whistling a tune you could only really describe as ''jaunty'', the upbeat melody at odds with the sinister atmosphere of the deserted streets.Nothing like a little post-slayage celebration,he thought, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Gotta enjoy the little things in life, right?

    His mind drifted back to the three kills he''d just made, a vampire sire standing over two fresh graves, his back unprotected as Xander snuck up on him. Amateur move, buddy,he thought, shaking his head at the memory. Rule number one of being a creature of the night: always watch your back.

    Thinking back on it, the sire had been an unexpectedly careful one, in Xander''s opinion. He might have had a small pool of experience to draw from given his three weeks of vampire hunting, but a vampire that actually waited around for their childe to rise from the grave was new to him. Gotta give him props for dedication, I guess, he mused, absently flipping the stake in his hand.

    The guy probably had a whole speech planned too...

    Something about the dark embrace and the eternity of blood or maybe something about how they have joined the rulers of the night or something like that. Probably had a whole presentation ready to go, Xander thought, rolling his eyes. Complete with dramatic lighting and a smoke machine.

    Or he could have just been a good vampire dad,Xander let out a snort at the thought of it.Too bad. Should''ve picked a better career path, buddy. One that doesn''t end with a pointy stick to the heart.

    The fight itself had been quick, almost too easy.

    Xander had rushed in and staked him from the back, the bloodsucker probably too confused to know what was happening. The poor old leech hadn''t even let out a sound before he was already dust in the wind.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    The two newborns, barely out of their graves, were still dazed, their feral instincts not yet kicked in. They looked more confused than threatening, making it almost a mercy when he ended their short un-lives. Better than letting them wake up and start munching on the populace, I guess, he reasoned, trying to push down the slight guilt that always accompanied staking a vamp that hadn''t actually done anything yet. It''s not murder if they''re already dead, right?

    His duty for the night done, Xander continued on his way home with a pep in his step, the stake still twirling between his fingers. Three vamps tonight. That''s gotta be some kind of average, right? he reasoned, recalling something Sam had mentioned. Right. I''m totally on track to be like, the male Slayer of Sunnydale or something.

    Each night out sharpened his instincts a bit more, made him a better fighter. He wasn''t sure, but Xander could swear that he''d gotten stronger in the last three weeks too.

    A little bit faster, even.

    Must be all that vampire chasing, he thought, flexing his free arm experimentally. Cardio''s a hell of a workout.

    He wasn''t really sure how to measure it, but honestly, he doubted he was just imagining it. Either the vampires had gotten easier to wrestle, or he was bulking up somehow. "I''ve been drinking my milk and getting big and strong," he joked, his voice echoing slightly in the empty street.

    He decided to walk through Saunder''s Field, choosing to cut through the park on his way from the Mt. Sinai cemetery, thinking it''d be a slightly shorter way home. And maybe I''ll run into a few more vamps on the way, he thought with a grin, his fingers tightening around the stake in his hand.

    He was walking through the park, his newly acquired Devil senses granting him rather good night vision as he looked around, not noticing how good the night looked when it wasn''t so... dark. Huh, who knew having demon blood would come with perks like this? he mused, his eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. Guess it''s not all just super strength and a craving for meat.

    "Nothing to be scared of when you can see all o-" He paused mid-sentence, sniffing the air, nostrils flaring as the familiar smell of grave dust and old blood mixed with something else hit him.

    "...is that WD-40?" he muttered to himself.

    His thoughts were interrupted as something rushed out at him from the bushes, leaping and growling like a wild animal. Xander let out a yelp of surprise and dropped to the floor, the figure sailing over him in a blur of black and silver.

    His stake rolled out of his hand, stopping at the base of a nearby tree, as Xander burst to his feet to face his attacker, already falling into a loose boxing stance. "Alright, Mister Bloodsucker, let''s make this quick, I''ve got a cold pizza waiting for me back at the h-"

    The words died in his mouth as the figure stood up to face him, and Xander found himself blinking in confusion, his eyes meeting his enemy''s.

    The vampire stared back at him with evil glowing yellow eyes deep-set into a pale, veined face with caveman-like furrowed brows and gaunt, sharply-defined cheekbones, clearly nothing but death and blood and other badness on its mind. The thuggish-looking bloodsucker stood tall, his long greasy black hair hanging limply around his face. Someone needs a haircut. And a shower. And a-

    His mental list was cut short as he noticed the vampire''s attire, the blood-drinking creature of the night dressed in old-looking, almost medieval-style black leather armor. Great, a Renaissance Fair reject, Xander thought, rolling his eyes. Just what I needed tonight.

    But none of that was what really caught Xander''s attention.

    No, what made him do a double-take was the vampire''s hand.

    Or rather, the lack thereof.

    "I-is... is that a claw?" he asked, one confused finger raised to point at the vampire''s missing hand, the limb replaced by three wickedly sharp metal blades that glinted in the moonlight.

    Xander stared in pure confusion, his mind trying to wrap itself around this. "W-why do you have a claw?" he asked, his voice unsteady from bewilderment, rather than fear.

    The vampire didn''t answer, choosing instead to hiss menacingly and take a threatening step forward, the clawed hand held high in anticipation.

    "No! No fighting!" Xander pointed at him indignantly, even as the vampire continued to advance, steps slow and deliberate like the nocturnal predator it was. "Answer that first!"

    The creature lunged, its speed catching Xander off guard as he barely managed to dodge the swipe of its claw, the metal blades whistling through the air inches from his face.Shit, he''s fast!Xander thought, his heart pounding as he ducked and weaved, trying to keep some distance between himself and the vampire.

    This was no newborn, that much was clear.

    The strength and speed behind each blow was almost twice that of any leech Xander had faced in the last three weeks, the vampire''s movements a blur as it pressed its advantage. Okay, he''s a bit different, Xander thought, wincing as the claw caught his upper arm, tearing through his sleeve and leaving a shallow gash.

    He dove to the side, rolling and coming up in a crouch near the tree where his stake had fallen. His fingers scrabbled for the weapon, but even as he gripped it tight, the vampire was on him again in an instant, its claw descending in a deadly arc. Xander threw himself backwards, the blades sinking into the tree trunk where his head had been a moment before.

    Too close, way too close, he thought, his breath coming in harsh pants as he scrambled to his feet, stake in hand.Gotta end this quick, before he ends me.

    The vampire yanked its claw free from the tree, splinters flying as it turned to face Xander again, its eyes glowing with malice. It stalked forward, its movements more cautious now, wary of the stake in Xander''s hand.

    He gripped the stake tighter, his muscles tense. Okay, Xander, time to put all that practice to use.

    "Come on, Dracula''s ugly cousin, let''s dance," Xander quipped, trying to piss the leech off, hoping to goad it into making a mistake. Not a newborn. Maybe a fledge? Knight? Fuck, I should''ve paid more attention to Sam''s vampire hierarchy lessons.

    The vampire didn''t respond with words but with action, lunging forward with a speed that seemed to blur the distance between them. Xander''s reaction was raw, a mix of enhanced reflexes and sheer survival instinct. He ducked under the swipe, feeling the claws miss his head by mere inches, the wind of their passage ruffling his hair.

    Circling around, Xander kept his back to the open park, not wanting to get pinned against a tree or caught in the bushes. The vampire''s black eyes narrowed as it mirrored Xander''s movements, its clawed hand ready to strike, the metal gleaming in the moonlight.

    With no better plan, Xander feinted to the left and then darted right, his speed a slight edge he had yet to fully exploit. The vampire, anticipating a direct attack, was momentarily off balance, its weight shifted to the wrong side. Now or never, Xander thought grimly, seeing his opening.

    As the vampire adjusted its stance, Xander charged, the ground beneath his feet crunching with the force of his sprint. He closed the distance before the vampire could fully recover, ducking under another wild swing and coming up inside its guard, close enough to smell the decay on its breath.

    "Guess what? You''re it," Xander said with a heavy breath, using all his strength to drive the stake forward, aiming for the heart.

    The stake found its mark, plunging into the vampire''s chest with a sickening crunch, like a hammer driving a nail into rotting wood. For a moment, time seemed to slow as the vampire''s face went wide with shock, its yellow eyes bulging. Then, it exploded into a cloud of dust, the particles catching in Xander''s throat and making him cough as they settled around him, leaving him alone in the clearing, the stake stabbing uselessly at the night air.

    Panting, Xander dropped his arm to his side, the adrenaline slowly fading from his veins as he tried to catch his breath. "Least that''s over..." he muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Gotta remember to thank Sam for those extra training sessions. Saved my ass tonight.

    "Oh... hello," a sweet voice sounded out from behind him, making Xander spin around, his heart leaping into his throat. "How are you, young man?"

    Xander sniffed the air again, the scent of something sharp and grassy hitting his nostrils, with the smell of old blood and something else that made him feel... good.

    Too good.

    The teenage Devil slowly turned on his heels, eyes half-lidded as he met what could only be described as a hot older woman standing a few meters away; dark hair, full figure and long, long legs. Well hello there, Mrs. Robinson, Xander thought, mind going to places it probably shouldn''t.

    And I probably gotta end her too, Xander frowned, not ready for another fight, but knowing he didn''t have much choice. "So, what''s your deal, demon lady?" he asked, trying to keep his voice casual, even as his grip tightened on the stake.

    The woman''s eyes glowed a sickly green, and her hands shifted into dark green mottled insect-like giant blades, the transformation making Xander''s stomach turn. Oh great, a praying mantis demon. Just what I always wanted. Not.

    He let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping. "So... we''re doing this."Guess I''ll be late for that pizza after all.

 Hate This Town II

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    "Five hundred."

    Xander Harris pulled a face, his expression more irritated than confused though the confusion was still there. "You''re joking... and not in a good way like Allan Sherman or Adam Sandler. More Anthony Michael Hall."

    The musty air of the backroom, cluttered with dusty tomes and bizarre artifacts, only seemed to thicken the longer he stood there, the smell of raw old books managing to hide the irritating odor of all sorts of magic items clumped over each other.

    Stupid Devil senses, he thought, wrinkling his nose.

    "Kid..." Bob Bogarty stated flatly, his gaze barely flickering from the monstrous green corpse on the table to the disheveled teenager across from him. The dim light from the single bulb dangling above cast an eerie glow over the cramped space, illuminating the wrinkles on the old man''s face and the garish pattern of his blue Hawaiian shirt.

    Xander wasn''t in the mood for back-and-forth bartering. His irritation from the fight was visible, made even worse by the sticky green demon innards that smeared his tank top, button-down and shorts.

    And here I was thinking I was being smart by wearing all black to hide blood and dirt, he mused, looking down at his ruined outfit with a grimace. Next time, I''m bringing a poncho. Or a hazmat suit.

    Leaning forward, Xander ducked under the lightbulb, its faint swinging making the shadows dance across his bruised and bleeding face. "I just fought a giant bug demon with my bare hands after killing four vampires. I''m tired and I have a cold pizza calling my name," he said, his voice gaining an edge as he jabbed a finger at the lifeless mantis. "How ''bout you make me a deal that sounds right? ''Cause I''m pretty sure this should run me more than a measly five hundred." Measly? I remember when that would sound like a life changer.

    The shop owner rubbed his bald head in frustration, the action making the loose skin on his arm jiggle slightly. "I don''t know what to tell you, kid. You''ve killed 3 of those Chalkies for me, and you got good pay for ''em. I got the flier and the personal card you gave me. I''ll summon you anytime I need something, but¡­" He shook his head disbelievingly, "but c''mon, you bring me a demon corpse and just expect me to throw money at you, who says I can even use this?" He gestured at the mantis with a dismissive wave of his hand. "

    Oh, come on, Xander thought, exasperated.

    He was already regretting giving the man his personal card a few days ago, considering the guy had been requesting summons to do back-to-back Chalk Goblin hunts just because. Tana giving him a personal set of cards to give out had him giddy, especially seeing as they let people summon him either with it or through a flier that Sam marked with his energy.

    Seeing as he only had one client so far, the old guy had gotten one out of necessity.

    Those teleports drained the magical demon energy he didn''t even know how to use yet too, which was annoying. He''d honestly prefer to run.

    He wiped his slime-covered hands on his already filthy shorts, the dried green goop making the whole action as annoying as it was pointless. Is it racist or self-hating to say I hate demons? I don''t think I care either way. I just want my cash.

    "Because," he explained, counting off on his fingers, "I took it by the Rosen Queen first and they didn''t need it but I got a full lecture on what this thing is. Virgin Thieves, Kleptes Virgo, or whatever. Full of fresh virgin sacrifice energy and¡­" Xander pulled a face, as he made air quotes with his fingers, "man essence¡­ same class as sirens and sea-maidens, only even stronger because this thing can shapeshift. On top of that, the bug ate like three guys already, y''know. Perfect mojo for all kinds of rituals and spell slinging."

    Bogarty''s expression changed, a flicker of interest clear in his eyes.

    Xander could almost see the gears turning in the old man''s head, calculating the potential profits. Ha, you old fogey, Xander smirked inwardly. Didn''t expect me to come prepared, didya? I may be new to this whole supernatural shtick, but I know how to do my homework¡­

    He paused, frowning slightly. Okay, usually.

    "One thousand," Bogarty conceded, albeit grudgingly, his fingers stroking his chin thoughtfully as he eyed the corpse with renewed interest.

    "Five," Xander countered swiftly, his hazel eyes narrowing under the dim light as he stared down the store owner.

    "B-bullshit," Bogarty nearly spat, his voice actually shaking. "I''m trying to run a business here. I don''t care if you really are a Fiend. You don''t know what you''re talking about."

    "What I know?" Xander snorted, the laugh empty of any real humor. "What I know is that we''re talking about 150 pounds of demon flesh here. This ain''t like the Chalkies. You''re using more than bone here. You cut this baby up into quarter pound pieces, sell it for your real buyers at what...? Fifty dollars a pop, if you''re generous... which we both know you''re not..."

    The old man couldn''t hide his grudging respect, a bitter smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

    "Let''s be honest, old man," Xander continued, crossing his arms over his chest. "You''re making at least thirty grand off this thing. I''m even being nice after counting in labor and refrigeration and all that, so how about you be nice, give me my money, and I''ll be out of your hypothetical hair, Uncle Bob?"

    Bogarty groaned, dragging his hand down his face in exasperation. "You Fiends are just like the stories. Greedy, conniving bastards."

    Xander raised an eyebrow. Coming from you, I don''t know if that''s a compliment or an insult. Probably both, knowing this town.

    The old man sighed heavily, looking more resigned than anything else. "...you wouldn''t happen to take checks?"

    Is he for real? Xander thought, barely suppressing an eye roll.

    "Not from you."

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C

    ?

    Later That Night

    In a Shadier Part of Sunnydale¡­

    ~Darkness falls across the land

    ~The midnight hour is close at hand

    Under the moonlight but far from quiet was the Velvet Nocturne, a club notorious for its very exclusive clientele¡ªvampires and other denizens of the dark¡ªbuzzed with loud music and the raucous voices of those inside.

    ~Creatures crawl in search of blood

    ~To terrorize y''all''s neighborhood

    At the front entrance of the warehouse turned nightclub, two pale burly bouncers ¡ª one bald and the other in a buzzcut ¡ª both with black suits, black ties, white shirts and earpieces stood guard.

    The first bowed his head deferentially as a full-faced vampire with coiffed white hair and an all-black suit suit walked to the front of the black velvet rope, gracing the entrance alongside his also full-faced guest, a female vampire with black hair in a severe cut and a black leather dress that was as low-cut as it was revealing.

    ~And whosoever shall be found

    ~Without the soul for getting down

    "Good to see you again, Lord Lucian," the bald guard greeted, putting a hand out in front of him. "I hope you enjoy your stay."

    Lord Lucian, with his pallid skin and aristocratic poise, stared back with sharp demonic features, carved as if from marble, and betrayed no emotion as he acknowledged the welcome with a nod, his eyes sweeping over the club''s innards in a predatory manner.

    ~Must stand and face the hounds of hell

    ~And rot inside a corpse''s shell

    The next guests didn''t receive quite the same welcome as the rope closed in front of them.

    "You''re not going to let us in? That''s not fair, we''re vampires too," a pale freckled vampire girl with her hair in a bun protested to the bouncer as she took an aggressive step forward with her fist raised. Above a pair of gray jeans, the girl wore a short leather jacket that stopped above her midsection, as well as a yellow shirt, with a black choker and a long beaded necklace.

    The bald bouncer, a tall broad-shouldered brute with a gaze as cold as the grave, fixed her with a look that suggested his patience was wearing thin with the group in front of him that looked all of sixteen years old.

    "Look, baby vamps, it''s my job to keep this place free of undesirables. And you¡ª" he paused, his eyes narrowing and yellowing as he shifted into full vampire face "¡ªare undesirable."

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    The girl''s friends, a chubby Asian girl with round glasses, an Asian boy with a similar appearance only with rectangular glasses, and a thin boy with brown hair who looked Caucasian, huddled behind her fearfully.

    The other bouncer stared at them as well, expression bored and placid.

    "But this is a club for vampires! We should be able to go in!" the girl insisted, her voice rising in as she clutched at the velvet rope in front of them. "We''re a part of this now!"

    "Kid, I don''t make the rules," the bouncer said, voice coming out with an undertone of growls and hisses as he wore his game face. "Come back when you''ve lost your new-vamp smell."

    He sneered at each of them with a fanged grin, his gaze sweeping over their less-than-fashionable attire. "And acquired some fashion sense," he added dismissively.

    The girl in front growled, her own face shifting to match the bouncer. "Who even wants to be here anyway? Michael Jackson sucks."

    The Asian girl tugged at her angry friend''s sleeve, her voice pleading. "Hester, don''t lie. Let''s just go."

    Still in her game face, Hester growled and stuck her hands in her jacket pockets, stomping away from the club with her friends right behind her. "We''re the coolest and sexiest of monsters! So why do we keep getting treated like we''re losers?" she hissed as she marched away furiously.

    "Maybe coolness is something inside you?" the other girl offered, trying to make her friend feel better. "Something you''re born with?"

    After a moment, she looked down, slight sadness on her face. "And maybe even turning into a cool, sexy monster doesn''t make you automatically cool," she mused, sounding wistful.

    Hester shot her a yellow-eyed look. "That''s the stupidest thing I''ve ever heard, Lisette. So stupid," Hester shot back, one hand on her waist as she pointed a finger aggressively in her friend''s face. "I¡ªwe¡ªdeserve to be cool."

    Turning around to face the club''s entrance once again, the goth vampire yelled out to the bouncer just a few meters away, "Hey! For serious, what would get us into this club?"

    The bald bouncer, having overheard bits of their conversation, rolled his eyes as he let out a silent sight and cast a monstrous yellow-eyed gaze over in their direction. "You could kill the Slayer," he answered blithely.

    The suggestion hung in the air, the guest walking into the club turning back to shoot a wide-eyed yellow gaze at the bouncer''s insane offer.

    Unfortunately, being young also goes hand in hand with being overconfident, unaware and stupid, all something a fresh vampire had in spades. "Kill the Slayer... that''s perfect! We can do that!" Hester shouted out, her yellow eyes lighting up as an evil smile spread across her fanged mouth. The girl''s hand went into her pocket, bringing out a black flier with red lettering on it and her grin widened even more.

    Hester rushed away, an idea forming in her mind, her friends following right after her. As they vanished, the two bouncers shared a look.

    "That was mean, man. Slayer''s gonna dust ''em," Buzzcut commented, a slight whine to the large man''s voice.

    "So what? They were bugging me," Baldy replied nonchalantly, giving his friend a shrug.

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    The Next Day

    It was a sunny afternoon in Sunnydale, the kind that almost made you doubt the horror that went on most nights. Buffy and Willow sat around the coffee table in the brightly lit living room of the Summer''s residence, huddled around textbooks in front of them and papers strewn across the floor.

    "How''s your mom, by the way, Buff?" Willow asked, the girl''s head mostly down in a book.

    "Oh, yeah," the blond glanced up, only pretending to read in the first place. "She''s doing all right now, Cuclidus demon juju all gone now," the girl answered back, before actually glancing at the page she was supposed to be looking at.

    "History is awful. How many beheadings again?" Buffy groaned, her face scrunched up as she flipped through her textbook with her chin resting on an upturned palm, clearly more interested in doing the beheading than reading about them.

    "Well, it was a revolution," Willow chimed in with a gentle reminder.

    "Guess you can''t have a revolution without chopping people''s heads off," the blonde replied back, nodding as if that made perfect sense. "Does the French Revolution really matter if the apocalypse happens tomorrow?" she mused, only half-joking as she let her hand fall and sat up straighter. "It might, honestly, considering Sunnydale is right over a portal to Hell."

    "Yeah," Willow admitted, laughing as her green eyes sparkled, "but our history teacher doesn''t know that."

    Buffy, not quite ready to give up on her procrastination, suggested something else. "We could tell Mr. Fraser, ''Can I have an extension on this essay? The world will probably be over soon because Hellmouth.''"

    Willow countered with a knowing smile, "I''m sure he''d take that well."

    Buffy dropped her chin into both her palms this time, sighing, "Adults love it when you shatter their world and reveal that monsters exist. It''d probably go over great."

    "Okay, so back to the French Revolution¡ª" "So, how''s Xander?"

    Buffy''s immediate interruption had Willow shoot her a knowing look. "Now you''re just trying to avoid doing homework."

    The blonde smiled back, not willing to admit anything. "No, I really want to know! How are you and him?"

    "We''re friends, always and forever, I guess," Willow responded with a loud sigh, her tone both resigned and accepting as she kept her head down.

    "No luck getting him to see you as more than a friend?" Buffy pushed.

    "Oh, he sees me as more than a friend," replied Willow with a sarcasm that could only arise from close proximity to Xander. "I''m also a buddy, a pal, a homework partner¡­ The list goes on." She slumped forward on the coffee table, resting her head on her arms.

    "That''s rough, buddy." Buffy patted her friend''s arm with a sad smile and let out a sigh, leaning back on the couch. "At least it''s nice to have someone you like, right? I haven''t had much luck with that recently¡­. Especially since Owen and that crazy vampire prophecy guy last week."

    Willow perked up at that, the redhead sitting up on her knees to focus on the Summers girl. "Oh, really? What about that mysterious, handsome stranger you keep bumping into? The one who always has cryptic advice to go with his smoldering gaze?" She bit her finger playfully, eyebrows waggling. "His name starts with an A, I think?"

    "His gaze is pretty smoldering, isn''t it?" Buffy mused, a soft smile playing on her lips as she entertained thoughts of him. "Even his name is smoldering."

    Willow teased, sitting up against the couch to be next to Buffy, "See? There''s someone you like too."

    Buffy nodded. "And all you need is for Xander to get his act together and you''ll be set. You sure he doesn''t have his eye on anyone right now?"

    Willow frowned, the girl thinking for a moment. "Honestly, I thought he might have been into you those first couple days."

    Blue eyes widened slightly. "Me?" The small blonde coughed slightly. "I mean, that''s flattering, I guess, who wouldn''t? But¡­" Buffy paused, her face reddening a bit," are you sure?"

    Willow shrugged, her palms turning upwards. "I mean, I thought so, but he doesn''t seem to really notice you the way he did before."

    "Oh," Buffy responded, a disappointed expression crossing her face for a second.

    "In fact," Willow continued, "I don''t really think he''s seriously paying attention to any girls anymore, at least since the Amy situation," the redhead frowned. "Maybe¡­ seeing all that skin from the cheerleaders burned him out?"

    Buffy shot Willow a look, one eyebrow raised. "And you believe that?"

    Willow sighed. "A girl can dream, can''t she?"

    She shook her head, a somewhat despondent look on her face. "He''s been so different too. He never even hangs out with me alone since last month. I don''t know what he''s up to anymore."

    Buffy frowned, sighing as she rested her head on Willow''s shoulder. "Well, whatever he''s up to, at least it''s nothing too crazy, knowing Xander."

    Willow giggled, leaning into Buffy as they both ignored their homework. "Right, what was I thinking?"

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C

    ?

    7 Hours Later

    "I''M GONNA USE YOUR ASH AS KITTY LITTER!"

    "We''re sorry!"

    "YOU TRIED TO DRINK AN OLD LADY!"

 Hate This Town III

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    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    Cemetery #9

    Another School Night

    Before Midnight

    Another eerie night as the waning moon shined down on a foggy graveyard within the confines of Sunnydale ¡ª one of many ¡ª had a decrepit roofless mausoleum occupied by four creatures of the night, their figures casting long, sinister shadows among the crumbling tombstones. Hunched on the floor, they were surrounded with the artifacts of their sinister unlife, seeking unholy enjoyment in ways the average person would recoil in disgust from.

    "Greg, you have approached the throne of chance. Do you want to roll again¡­?" A chubby Asian vampire girl asked, her voice a little playful as she glanced at the boy to her left, a set of dice ready in her hand, "... or test your luck against the winds of fate?"

    "I dunno, if my luck was good, I don''t think I''d be a vampire right now," Greg mused out loud, one of his hands playing absently with a die while the other hand held up two cards to his face. "Maybe a werewolf, those are really cool."

    Steve ¡ª the chubby Asian boy to Greg''s left ¡ª shrugged, his own card-free hand brushing mausoleum dirt off his white shirt. "You got a point. On the werewolf thing too. I''d roll again, if it was me," he advised.

    "I don''t know," the Asian girl voiced, face screwed up. "All that fur feels like it''d get everywhere. And you''re not even in control of yourself. But yeah, honestly, I doubt luck''s in your favor.

    Greg glanced over at Steve and nodded quickly before shooting a glance at Lisette, their resident Dungeon Master. "Let me roll agai-"

    "What do you three think you''re doing?" interrupted the only member of their group not currently sitting on the floor immersed in role-playing. Her voice came out as a growl as she stomped forward, eyes yellow and face monstrously vampiric.

    "It''s Thursday night. We always play games on Thursday nights," Lisette responded hesitantly, pushing her glasses up her nose as she looked up at her goth friend.

    "Not anymore we don''t!" The girl in the leather jacket shouted angrily, her visible frustration boiling over as she kicked over the board. Cards, figurines, and dice scattered across the floor of the mausoleum, effectively ending their game night.

    "When we were human, we played games for hours," Lisette stared up as Hester stood over her, the angry girl''s hands on her hips. "Why do things have to be different now?"

    "Because we''re vampires!" Hester snarled, her voice rough as gravel. The girl reared forward with her fist raised in her friend''s face, the pigtailed Asian rearing back in fear. "Creatures of the night!" Shaking her head in frustration, Hester stood up straight again and crossed her arms over her chest. "We don''t sit around playing nerdy games."

    Her three friends remained sitting and kneeling on the ground, all of them staring back at the aggressive goth with sheepish, nervous, firmly cowed expressions. Sighing heavily, Hester released her game face, brown eyes replacing unholy yellow as she rolled them and let out a slight growl. "Now, do you guys wanna hear Plan A or not?"

    "Sure¡­" "...yeah." "Okay." All three responded meekly, clearly into this for the sole purpose of not being yelled at again.

    "Great," Hester said, turning back to her easel where a dry erase board was perched. She tapped a marker against the board, pointing to a series of poorly drawn doodles. "If we attack the Slayer under the cover of night, we can overwhelm her with our superior numbers," she asserted confidently, her voice cutting through the chill night air as she pointed to her poorly done doodles. "There''s four of us and one of her. Can''t believe no one''s thought of this before."

    Steven frowned, the gears in his head turning as he considered Hester''s plan. "But they''d have to have."

    Hester whirled around, her brow furrowing as she gripped the red dry erase marker tightly in one hand. "What?"

    "I-i m-mean, you know, i-it''s just..." Steven stuttered for a few seconds, the boy glancing desperately at his cousin for help. Lisette only waved her hands, unsure what he expected her to say and not willing to contradict Hester.

    Hester leaned in closer, her voice tense as she spoke through gritted teeth. "What?"

    Taking a deep breath, Steve decided to speak his mind. "I-it just doesn''t make sense when you think about it, y''know? They''d have to have done this before. There''s like hundreds of vampires in Sunnydale and the Slayer''s been in Sunnydale for like, a little over a month, I think?" Steve shrugged, the Asian boy clearly not on board.

    "And before that, rumor says she killed like a whole gym full of vampires in Los Angeles? And a Blood King too, that''s like... serious mojo. We''re still newborns, Hester. A King could tear through dozens of us." He shook his head, trying to get across the seriosness of what he was saying. "It just... it just doesn''t make sense if you think about it for like thirty seconds."

    If vampires could flush, Hester definitely would have, the girl looking affronted by the good criticism. "L-look, Steven, it''s about numbers, okay? Just because she''s stronger... i-it doesn''t mean that much. We outnumber her, it''s that simple!"

    Unfortunately for her, the chubby Asian boy in rectangular classes wasn''t going to let go of the point that easily. "Hess, I know strategy games and even there, numbers aren''t everything," He adjusted his glasses as he stood up, a sign that the normally quiet new vampire was digging in his heels. "Like, she''s The Slayer, like capitalized and with a The in front of it for a reason. I''ve been asking around... you know, and when an older vamp actually answers instead of ignoring me... or," Steve frowned, "punchingmeintheface... they tell me this Slayer''s a different breed. She''s only been around a year and already killed a King plus his whole clan. A new Slayer is supposed to be Prince level."

    Greg tilted his head, clearly on Steven''s side. "I mean, yeah... Like, even if she wasn''t that good, Slayers are more skilled and trained too."

    Hester stood there, fuming as Steven and Greg spoke, clearly unsure of how to counter both points.

    "Like actually trained in magic kung fu, probably," the Caucasian vampire teen continued, pulling a face. "Vamps treat her like a big deal for a reason. We can''t just rush in like dummies."

    Lisette chimed in, her voice tentative but firm. "They''re both right, Hester. It''s not just about attacking; it''s about being smart. We need a plan that''s more than just... attacking in a group."

    Hester''s face showed her frustration as her initial confidence began to crumble under the weight of her friends'' rational arguments. She paced back and forth, her boots kicking up small clouds of dust in the mausoleum, kicking aside old game consoles and fallen comic posters. "Fine, then what do you suggest we do, huh? We can''t just sit around playing games forever!"

    Greg, usually not one to speak at all, decided to chime in again. " I dunno, maybe find a way to weaken her first or something."

    "Hmm." Hester turned decisively away from the group, her gaze set on the dark horizon. "So¡­ Plan B it is."

    "Plan B?" the other three asked in unison, all of them blinking in confusion.

    "Plan B." The goth whirled around in full vampire face, a back flier held high in her hand to show off the red circle written in some strange language on the back. "...who knows where we can get some gold?"

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    The Next Day

    Xander sauntered down the hallway, weaving through the crowd of students milling about before class. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a harsh glow on the sea of faces he passed. Lockers slammed shut, the metallic clangs mixing with the chatter and laughter that echoed off the walls. Just another day in the ol'' Hellmouth High, he thought, smirking to himself.

    As he approached Buffy''s locker, he spotted the familiar blonde and redhead duo, huddled together like they were plotting world domination. Or maybe just gossiping about the latest fashion trends.

    With Buffy and Willow, you never knew.

    "My favorite blonde and my favorite redhead, together again?" Xander gave them both a lopsided grin, head tilted slightly to the side as he walked up to the two girls. "What''s the occasion?"

    Willow giggled as Buffy rolled her eyes playfully, said blonde shooting him a look. "The occasion is school, something we all hate."

    "Speak for yourself," Willow said back with a grin, her eyes sparkling.

    "Yeah, Buff," Xander replied, in as faux-serious a tone as he could manage, face straight and resolute. "Some of us actually take our education seriously." He placed a hand over his heart, as if deeply offended by the mere suggestion of disliking the hallowed halls of Sunnydale High.

    Willow shot him her own look of disbelief, the girl barely able to keep herself from laughing. Buffy rolled her eyes at him again. "Haha, what is this, ''Pick on Buffy Day''?"

    Xander held his wrist up, a serious look still fixed on his face as he pretended to check a nonexistent watch. "Well¡­ it is Friday, so yeah." He nodded solemnly, as if confirming a universal truth.

    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    "...No idea how I lived without your amazing sense of humor, Xander," Buffy finally replied, looking as if she was physically holding herself back from a third eye roll.

    "Don''t worry, Buff, it''s not just you," he declared triumphantly, grinning like an idiot. "The world would be worse off without me."

    "I think you mean better off," Willow chimed in, her smile taking the sting out of her words.

    Xander clutched at his chest, staggering back as if he''d been shot. "Et tu, Willow? Betrayed by my own best friend. The pain, the agony!"

    Buffy and Willow exchanged amused glances, shaking their heads at his antics. Tough crowd, Xander thought, straightening up and smoothing out his shirt. Gotta step up my game.

    "Jokes aside," the small blonde said, pulling a book from her locker and putting it in her backpack, "anyone know what happened to Mr. Blake?"

    Willow, who was rummaging through her own backpack, looked up, puzzled. "Who''s Mr. Blake?"

    "The Home Ec teacher?" Buffy explained, her brow furrowing as she thought about her next semester''s schedule. "I wanted to sign up for his after-school class for extra credit, something to pad out the classes I missed or sleep through with the slayage, you know."

    Xander hummed to himself, his expression neutral as he responded, "No idea, Buffster." The lie slipped out surprisingly easily, something he''d been surprised by the last few weeks. He couldn''t very well tell them that Mr. Blake wouldn''t be showing up anytime soon, and that said Mr. Blake was a tiger demon planning on eating anyone who signed up for his extra credit class.

    Or that he had to slay said tiger demon.

    Too many questions, and I don''t have the patience. He suppressed a shudder, remembering the feeling of using a butcher''s knife to tear into demonic flesh, the spray of blood that had coated yet another shirt. Note to self: invest in some stain remover.

    Willow tilted her head, concern clear on her face. "You okay, Xander? You look a little¡­ off."

    "Hm?" Xander raised an eyebrow, trying to act confused. Shit.

    "Probably nothing," he gave the redhead a shrug, "just might not be getting a lot of sleep recently."

    While that little tidbit was true, Xander didn''t feel it necessary to mention that his new Devil status came with a lessened need for sleep, especially with all the energy that came with his powers coming back in full force at night.

    Buffy, seeming to pick up on something, nodded understandingly. "If you''re feeling tired, you should try and fix that. Don''t want you fainting on us."

    The teenage boy snorted. "If I find myself catching the vapors, I''ll do my best to let you know." He fanned himself dramatically, batting his eyelashes.

    The three of them snort and laugh, as Xander''s attempt at a Southern Belle broke whatever seriousness they were trying to hold on to. Surrounded by the noise of so many other students, the sounds of three students laughing were almost unnoticeable, that is until a slight hush came over the entire hallway.

    Xander glanced up and to his left, the sight of Cordelia Chase, Harmony Kendall, and Aura White, the three girls dressed up as they usually were, incredibly pretty and stunning.

    Damn, Xander snapped his fingers in front of his chest, if only they weren''t evil bitches.

    As if reading his mind, Cordelia shot him a look and frowned, the expression on her face managing to approach something that could only be termed disdainful grace, as expected of the queen bee of the school''s social hive. "Oh my God, looks like some boys can''t help but be a constant fashion disaster. At least the rest of them try," the brunette said with a laugh, tossing her hair back like she was in a shampoo commercial.

    Xander flinched at the word and then glanced down at his outfit, a baggy white tee from the convenience store and simple baggy blue jeans. What''s wrong with my outfit? he thought, furrowing his brow. It''s not like I''m trying to win any fashion awards here. The Harris boy opened his mouth to shoot another jab back at the queen bee before she walked off, but he was interrupted by something else.

    The teenager felt his eye twitch as he saw Harmony, with a mischievous glint in her eye that screamed ''I''m about to do something stupid and think it''s clever'', sauntering past Willow, who was balancing a small stack of books. With an obviously calculated bump, the blonde sent his friend''s books scattering across the floor along with her backpack.

    "I''m sooooo sorry, that was so clumsy of me," the blonde chirped insincerely, barely suppressing a laugh as she continued on her way, looking far too pleased with herself for someone who just committed an act of minor violence.

    Cordelia, a little bit ahead, kept walking with a smirk plastered across her face, clearly enjoying the show. Of course she''s in on it, Xander thought, his jaw clenching. Queen C probably put Harmony up to it in the first place.

    Willow knelt to gather her books, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and frustration. Buffy watched it all with a growing scowl, her hands curling into fists at her sides as she made to step forward and confront the three. Only to find herself blinking in slight confusion as Xander quickly stomped ahead of her, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced by something harder, more serious.

    Stepping assertively in front of Harmony, Cordelia, and Aura, his usual goofy expression hardened, smile a thin blank line. "Harmony, go back and say sorry," he demanded, voice firm and eyes hard. He crossed his arms over his chest, leveling the blonde with a look that said ''I''m not messing around''.

    Harmony rolled her eyes as she looked at him, her expression twisting into a mock-confusion that might have been more convincing if she wasn''t visibly sneering at the same time. "What are you talking about? I said sorry," she scoffed back at him, tone dripping with feigned innocence. She examined her nails, as if the whole situation was beneath her.

    "Yeah, and this time I want you to mean it," Xander demanded again, his voice taking on an edge that even he wasn''t used to hearing from himself. "Go say sorry."

    The directness in Xander''s voice seemed to make Harmony shrink slightly, clearly never having expected this from the class clown. She hesitated, her confidence crumbling under his stern gaze, and cast a glance at Cordelia for help, like a lost puppy looking for guidance.

    The Chase girl, always ready to assert her dominance, stepped forward, eyes narrowed as she showed Harmony what a real sneer looked like. "Listen here, " she began, voice sharp enough to cut glass, "you worthless dork, I-"

    "Cordelia, not now."

    But Xander cut her off without even looking her way, his attention fixed on Harmony. "I know this might be hard to understand, but not everything''s about you. Keep walking," he interjected, his tone dismissive yet harsh all the same. Wow, where did that come from? he thought, momentarily surprised at his own boldness.

    The brunette seemed to visibly bristle at the brush off, like an angered cat with its fur standing on end. Her mouth snapped shut as her fists tightened slightly at her sides, perfectly manicured nails digging into her palms. "Excuse me?" she hissed, her voice low and dangerous.

    Xander ignored her, stepping a little closer to Harmony, the blonde stepping back slightly, as if trying to escape his gaze. "Apologize. Now," the words came out lower than he''d ever heard his voice, an odd gravel slipping into it that he didn''t recognize.

    The blonde girl gulped, eyes wide as she looked at Xander like she was seeing him for the first time. With a reluctant shuffle, she turned back toward the confused redhead watching it all from her spot on the floor.

    Her head hung low, and in a small, subdued voice, Harmony Kendall muttered, "I''m sorry," to a still-kneeling Willow.

    "Uh¡­ no problem?" Willow said back, her eyebrows high in confusion as Harmony walked back to the other two popular girls, this time avoiding Xander''s eyes purposely. Buffy simply blinked, unsure what she was looking at.

    But Cordelia wasn''t willing to let this go, especially with everyone''s eyes on her. She scoffed loudly and tossed her hair back, the absolute picture of indignation. "What? Your balls finally drop, and you think it makes you a man to yell at girls now?"

    Gonna have to try harder than that, Cordy, Xander thought, merely rolling his eyes, a gesture of dismissal as he turned his back on Cordelia and strode back towards Willow.

    "Don''t walk away from me, Harris!" Cordelia called after him, her voice tinged with a mix of anger and disbelief, as if she couldn''t comprehend someone not bowing to her whims.

    Xander continued, unfazed, kneeling down beside Willow to help her gather the last of her books. "I''m talking to you!" Cordelia''s voice rang out again, louder this time, echoing off the lockers.

    But Xander kept ignoring her, glancing up at a still stunned Buffy before looking back at Willow. An awkward smile broke out across his face, "So... we thinking Bronze tonight?"

    </article>

 Hate This Town IV

    Hate This Town IV

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    The Bronze was crowded after sunset ¡ª like that was news. When there''s only one decent club in town where kids under twenty-one can hear music, drink coffee, dance, and hang out, there was no doubt it was bound to draw a crowd.

    It being on the ''wrong side of town'' didn''t even hurt it''s appeal. If anything, that made high schoolers flock to it more, plenty sneaking out just to make their way to the club.

    Buffy Summers and Willow Rosenberg turned away from the pastry counter, the blonde carrying a croissant and a soda while the redhead settled for a box of raisins, her gaze distant and unfocused as she glanced around.

    She''s preoccupied, Buffy thought. It didn''t take a genius to figure out with what.

    As far as Will was concerned, the sun rose and set with Xander.

    The girl had felt that way since they were both five years old ¡ª a little young for serious romance, but maybe not for a first crush. Even at the time, though, Willow had thought it was true love, recognizing that the relationship was not the perfect romance she''d wished for only when Xander broke her Barbie.

    Even that, I forgave him, Willow thought, with a rueful smile. Even that.

    But in all the years since then, while they''d remained steadfast friends, that was just about as good as she got.

    Xander, her best buddy.

    Xander, her favorite friend.

    Xander, the guy who would complain to her when he was having girl trouble. Which was often.

    Never seeming to realize what he could have had.

    "I thought Xander would be here by now," Willow said as they threaded their way toward an open table.

    "That''d make him on time," Buffy replied wryly, the blonde quirking her lips slightly. "We couldn''t have that."

    The redhead turned to face her friend, a slightly worried expression clear on her face. "Did he say where he was going?

    "No?" Buffy mused. "Just said he was gonna pick up some new clothes. So, the mall maybe?"

    "I don''t know," Willow said. "He never shops at the mall. Was he acting weird?"

    Buffy slid onto a seat at one of the chest-high tables. "I didn''t notice anything. But then again, I''m not as hyper-aware of him as, oh, say, for example, you."

    "Hyper-aware?" Willow asked, taking the stool across from Buffy''s.

    "Well," Buffy said. "I''m not constantly monitoring his health, his moods, his blood pressure ¡ª"

    Willow knew that one, even though it had been over a month since last check. "One-thirty over eighty."

    Buffy laughed, the girl slapping the table lightly. "You got it bad, girl."

    "He makes my head go tingly. You know what I mean?"

    "I dimly recall," Buffy said, gaze cast toward the ceiling.

    "Still don''t feel the tingles lately?"

    Buffy offered her redheaded friend a shrug, unsure why asking the same question a day later would change anything. "Not really."

    "Not even for a dangerous and mysterious older man whose leather jacket you''re wearing right now?"

    Buffy glanced at the jacket Angel had given her. Angel, the tall, dark, mystery hunk whose life kept intersecting with hers in the oddest ways. He had told her that the jacket looked better on her ¡ª which wasn''t, strictly speaking, even close to true. It was way out of place, for instance, with the pale green dress she was wearing tonight. And yet, she had barely taken it off since he''d given it to her.

    "It goes with the shoes," she insisted, doing her very best to keep a blush off her face.

    "Come on," Willow said, having none of it. "Angel pushes your buttons. You know he does."

    "I suppose some girls might think he''s good looking," Buffy relented. "If they ¡­ have eyes. All right, he''s a honey." Understatement of the month club, she thought. She didn''t want to let on to Willow, though. The poor girl thought the whole situation was terribly romantic, but there was still that Slayer thing to contend with. Makes dating a little complicated. "But he''s never around, and when he is all he wants to do is talk about vampires, and I just can''t have a relationship ¡ª"

    Willow interrupted with an excited, "There he is!"

    Buffy''s head swiveled as Willow stood up straight. "Angel?"

    "Xander!"

    Then Buffy saw him too, eyebrows going up as she spotted him sauntering over, the teenage boy smiling, winking, and casting long looks at young women in his path that they returned.

    Granted, that wasn''t something different, but the clothes... the clothes definitely were. "That''s a new look for him."

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C

    Xander strolled into The Bronze, rolling his shoulders as he tried to get used to the feeling of his brand new outfit.

    The leather jacket hugged his frame just right, the dark denim jeans fitting like a second skin. Is this what it''s like to get things tailored to fit? he wondered, glancing down at himself. He couldn''t help the frown that tugged at his lips, a realization settling in. No wonder Cordy looks at me like a rube most of the time. Probably thinks I shop exclusively at the Sunnydale Salvation Army.

    The clothes were brand-spanking-new, as in he had literally put them on half an hour ago, shortly after he bought them. Cordelia picking on him for his outfit earlier in the day, combined with losing so many clothes to demons and vampires lately, had left him in desperate need of a wardrobe update. Guess that''s what I get for trying to fight the forces of darkness in flannel and baggy jeans,he mused, shaking his head. Not exactly the height of fashion or function.

    It was on a whim that he had decided to stop by the Rosen Queen, hoping they could provide him with something a bit more fashionable.

    Sturdy, too, but he was hoping to look cool more than practical.

    Sam was once again out of town after school, his Devil boss taking almost as many trips out of town as his mom had been the last few weeks. One week, Los Angeles, the next, the guy was in Seattle. Always on business... I gotta ask more questions. Unfortunately, after the combat training and supernatural study sessions, Xander was often too physically or mentally drained to ask what was on his mind or do anything else, really.

    Case in point, despite having been working there for weeks now, he hadn''t taken a chance to look at what the Rosen Queen store had to offer, too busy dusting fresh vampires and hunting whatever demon was dumb enough to eat people in his vicinity.

    But then when he finally did take a look today- "What the hell?"

    His poor devil eyes nearly popped out of his head when he read through the catalog Tana, the seductive receptionist, had given him to browse through.

    500 bucks? For a pair of shoes?And that was for one of the least expensive items in the catalog, the literal cheapest pair of kicks they sold.These prices are the most evil thing in this town, forget about the Hellmouth. Highway robbery, I tell ya!

    Thankfully, the every helpful andsensuousTana had calmly let him know that not only was he looking at the devil-exclusive catalog ¡ª the stuff rated for his kind a good bit better than the average buyer¡ª but also informed him about his employee discount, a whopping 50% off, but even still¡­ Why does a freakin'' notebook cost one hundred dollars? What''s it made of, gold-plated paper?Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    It took him a few good minutes of sitting in silence, jaw clenched tight, to remember that he had at least ten grand saved up with the Rosen Queen. The office also functioned as something of a demon bank, apparently ¡ª at least forhim. Perks of being one of two Devils in good ol'' Sunnyhell.

    Being a Devil really was more awesome than he thought. Being able to lug around a V8 engine in each hand like they were heavy bags of groceries and run faster than school zone speed limits was just way more awesome than he thought it would be. And he didn''t even have to be evil. Making mucho dinero was almost more of a perk than the powers honestly.

    Almost. He wasn''t crazy.

    Even still, he had been very hesitant to actually buy anything, his frugal nature warring with his desire to not look like a total dweeb, until Tana told him that all the clothes Rosen Queen sold were both magically durable and came with magical pockets. Magical pockets? Like, bigger on the inside, ''let me just pull a rabbit out of my hat'' pockets?

    Granted, the pockets weren''t that magical, but really, that was all the push he needed. Imagine the snacks I could smuggle into class with those babies.

    Picking out the clothes and shoes he wanted had been a breeze after that, and he was ready to go home and change into what he already had in his closet before heading over to the Bronze.

    That is, until Tana told him that his clothes were already ready.

    As in, the ones he had just picked out and paid for minutes ago, suddenly tailored to his exact measurements and specifications.

    The grin that had spread across his face then was almost evil, a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes. Damn, I love Devil magic.

    The thumping beat of the music drew Xander out of his thoughts as he made his way further into the club, the flashing lights and bodies on the dance floor assaulting his enhanced senses. He winced slightly, the volume a bit too loud for his liking now that his hearing was kicked up to eleven. Probably should''ve brought earplugs, he thought, trying to tune out the worst of the noise. Or invested in a pair of those magic noise-canceling headphones. Wonder if Rosen Queen sells those too?

    "Hey there," Xander called out as he made his way up to a slightly confused-looking Buffy and a wide-eyed Willow, both girls sitting at the counter. He draped an arm over Buffy''s shoulder, the small blonde raising an eyebrow high at the sudden contact, and leaned over to give Wills a peck on the cheek¡ªthe redhead letting out a surprised squeak¡ªbefore leaning back against the counter with a sigh. "How''s my two favorite girls in the world doing on this fine Scarydale evening?"

    Buffy glanced at Willow, his old friend looking somewhat dazed for some reason, her cheeks tinged pink, before glancing back at him. "Nothing much, just waiting for you to grace us with your presence, Xan-Man." Her tone was teasing, a small smirk playing on her lips.

    Xan-Man, huh? That''s new from the Buffster, Xander thought, grinning back at her. "Did I keep you two waiting?" he asked, putting on his best apologetic face. "I''m sorry, took a bit longer than I thought to get ready. You know how it is, gotta look my best for my best girls."

    "No worries, we were just talking about... girl stuff," Buffy said with a shrug, her eyes darting to the dazed Willow for a moment.

    Girl stuff? What''s that supposed to mean? Xander wondered, but decided not to pry.

    Buffy gave him a once-over, her gaze lingering on his new threads. "Nice clothes, by the way. Very hip."

    Xander let out a chuckle, brushing his nose with his thumb as he tried not to look too smug over his clothes while also fighting back tears over the fact that his entire outfit cost him two thousand of his hard-earned demon-killing dollarydoos. "Oh, these old things? They were in the back of my closet," he said with a smarmy look, going for nonchalant. "Just something I threw on, you know how it is."

    "Old?" Willow finally snapped out of her odd daze to blink at Xander, her brow furrowed. "I''ve never seen you wear that before." She leaned in closer, as if trying to get a better look at the material.

    Xander turned the puppy-dog eyes on Willow, bottom lip out in a fake-pout. "You''re telling me you hate my outfit, Wills? And here I thought you were my best bud, my partner in crime, my-"

    "N-no. Not at all, n-no," Willow stammered, waving her hands in front of her, eyes wide in actual panic. "I love it actually! It''s, it''s just really new. And different. Good different, not bad different. Like, ''who are you and what have you done with Xander'' different."

    "And really good quality too," Buffy chimed in, reaching out to feel the sleeve of his leather jacket. "It looks expensive. What''d you do, rob a bank?" She raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eye.

    "Something like that," Xander joked, winking. I really should be mugging more vamps before I dust them. Just break their necks or stake them with something thin and not-wood to paralyze them for a bit. He nodded to himself at the thought. More money that way.

    At Buffy''s unamused look, he chuckled nervously. "Kidding, kidding. I just know a guy, that''s all. We''re pretty cool so he gives me a half off discount at his shop. Perks of being a valued customer and all that jazz."

    Buffy''s eyes lit up, the small Slayer visibly energetic at Xander''s last few words. "Did you say discount?" She leaned forward, eager. "Think you could hook a girl up? I''m always down for a good shopping deal."

    "A discount?" Willow piped up, looking just as interested. "What kind of shop is it?"

    Xander''s mind raced, trying to come up with a way to steer the conversation away from the shop. I can''t exactly tell them I''m getting my threads from a demonic boutique, he thought, fighting back a grimace. Time for a little classic Xander deflection.

    "He wouldn''t have anything you like," he said quickly, waving a dismissive hand. "It''s all leather and chains and stuff. Very niche. Not really your style, Buff."

    Buffy pouted, looking put out. "I could totally rock leather and chains," she muttered, crossing her arms.

    Xander cast a glance at her jacket, one eyebrow raised. "You''re already half there. Kinda big for you, though,no?"

    The five foot blonde''s face visibly reddened, Xander''s enhanced eyes picking it up even in the dim lighting, as she turtled slightly into her large leather jacket. "I mean... uh, y-yeah, I guess, I like it though..."

    Willow, however, wasn''t ready to let the point go. "But what''s the name of the shop? Maybe we could just go browse, see if there''s anything-"

    "Hey, you know what? Enough about my clothes," Xander interrupted, pushing off the counter and clapping his hands together. "We''re here to have fun, right? And what''s more fun than dancing with your two best friends?" He grinned, doing a little shimmy.

    Buffy and Willow exchanged a look, both seeming unconvinced. Uh oh, losing them. Time to bring out the big guns. Xander grabbed their hands, pulling them off their stools and towards the dance floor. "Come on, girls! Let''s show these people how it''s done!"

    "Xander, wait-" Willow protested, stumbling a bit as he tugged her along.

    "I don''t really feel like dancing right now," Buffy added, though she allowed herself to be pulled into the crowd.

    "Nonsense! There''s always time for dancing," Xander declared, spinning Willow around with one hand, making the girl giggle happily as Xander pulled her close and stared at Buffy over her shoulder, his chin resting in the nape of Willow''s neck. Xander raised a single eyebrow at Buffy, wiggling his eyebrows. "Unless the Buff Buffster is afraid she can''t keep up with my sick moves?"

    Buffy rolled her eyes, but a smile was tugging at her lips despite her attempt to look serious. "Oh, you are so on, Harris. Prepare to be out-danced."

    As the three of them fell into a rhythm, laughing and moving to the beat, Xander felt himself relax. Crisis averted, he thought, twirling Willow and making her squeak. Hopefully, this will take their minds off the whole shop thing.

    The last thing he needed was his friends poking around in his new devil business. What they don''t know won''t hurt them. Or me.

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C

    An Hour and A Half Later

    Xander lounged at a table, his body still thrumming with energy from dancing with Buffy and Willow. Man, who knew Willow could cut a rug like that? he thought, grinning to himself.G irl''s got moves.

    Speaking of Willow, the redhead was currently resting on his arm, eyes closed even though Xander could tell she wasn''t actually asleep. Her breathing was too quick, her body too tense. But he wasn''t going to disturb her for no reason. Poor Will, she works herself to the bone with all that studying. Girl deserves a little shut-eye, even if it means my arm goes numb.

    Buffy, on the other hand, had wandered off to get drinks, leaving Xander alone with his thoughts. And what thoughts they were.

    Tonight''s been great,he mused, his free hand tapping out the beat of the music on the table. Just me and the girls, dancing the night away. No demons, no vamps, no craziness. Just fun.

    As if the universe was responding to his challenge, the teenage devil felt something, a familiar warmth coming from his pants. Huh?

    His eyes widened and his free hand reached into his back pocket almost on instinct, only to freeze as said hand touched something. One of those wide eyes twitched in frustration as he felt the slight heat emanating from his personal card as he cupped the small rectangle, the Demonic Energy tingling familiarly in his palm. Oh, you''ve got to be kidding me.

    Unbidden, Xander felt a growl slip from his throat as he quickly jerked up in his seat, the sudden action startling Willow and making the girl open her eyes a little. A summoning? Now? He shook his head, sliding the card back in. Maybe I can ignore it.

    But of course, because the universe apparently had it out for him, that peace couldn''t last.

    Suddenly, Xander felt what he could only describe as a buzzing in the center of his gut, like a swarm of bees had taken up residence in his stomach. What the hell? His eyes went wide and he tensed in his seat, the movement jostling Willow again.They''re paying in advance for a summoning... fuck me.

    Xander felt another growl slip from his throat as he quickly rose to his feet, the sudden action startling Willow fully awake. She stared up at him, confusion and concern clear on her face, as her friend cracked his knuckles on each finger individually; a tight, almost frustrated look on his face as he glared with narrowed eyes at the exit to the Bronze, looking almost violent.

    A pre-paid summoning? Now? On my night off? Xander thought, his left eye twitching in frustration. Someone out there has a death wish, and I''m more than happy to grant it.

    "Xander, what''s wrong?" Willow asked, her voice tinged with worry.

    "Sorry, guys, forgot about something. Real important, at home," Xander rambled quickly to Willow, gaze flicking over to the approaching Buffy, the words spilling out of him in a rush as he tried to come up with an excuse. "Gotta go take care of it."

    Buffy, who had just returned with their drinks, frowned as she put them on the table. "What? But we were having fun! Can''t it wait?"

    Oh, Buff, if only you knew, Xander thought, already moving towards the exit. "Sorry, Buffster, no can do. This is... uh... family stuff. You know how it is."

    He didn''t wait for a response, already rushing his way through the Bronze, gently shoving other patrons out of the way as he did his best to leave as soon as possible. What dickhead is summoning me on my off day? he wondered, his jaw clenched tight. It better not be Willy again, or I swear to Satan... He promised vengeance on the sleazy bar owner, who kept summoning him to use as security.

    Finally bursting out into the cool night air, Xander ducked into a side alley, glancing side to side to make sure no one was there to see him.

    With a firm expression, the young Fiend allowed the summoning to begin, a frustrated glint in his eyes as the black-tinted scarlet light surrounded his body, his Demonic Energy draining slightly from his already small pool as a small teleportation runic circle formed beneath his feet in blood-red coloring.

    This better be worth my time, he thought as the world began to fade away, or someone''s gonna learn why you don''t mess with a devil''s night off.

 Hate This Town V

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    Sunnydale Cemetery #12

    An Hour or So Before Midnight

    The night air was thick with an eerie stillness, the only sound the occasional rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale, ethereal glow over the gravestones that dotted the landscape, their shadows stretching long and sinister across the dead grass.

    In the center of this macabre scene stood a group of four teenagers, their faces full of determination and naive eagerness, a stark contrast to the deathly atmosphere that surrounded them.

    "Tonight, we strike a final and decisive blow against the Slayer," a girl declared, her voice high-pitched but adamant, befitting the eternal sixteen-year-old she now was. She stood triumphantly in the center of the near-empty cemetery, a ritual circle drawn in salt on the dead grass out in front of her, its lines almost glowing in the moonlight. "We do what no vampire has ever done."

    The girl¡ªHester Goody¡ªwore a dark leather jacket with rolled-up sleeves, a pink shirt beneath that with fishnets and a short leather skirt. Large gold hoop earrings dangled from her ears, catching the light with each turn of her head, and around her neck was a beaded necklace and a collar, the latter a touch that seemed more for show than any practical purpose. Her face was done up in makeup that could only be described as amateurish at best, almost clown-like even, with an excess of blush over her freckles, black lipstick, black eyeliner, a large amount of purple eyeshadow, and a long black line starting from her forehead and going down to the sides of her mouth on each eye, again doubling down on the clownery.

    Despite her youthful appearance, Hester was a vampire, a very very young one at only three months old, but still a vampire, and that meant something, goddamn it.

    She held up a black flier with red script in one hand and a book bound in black leather with odd symbols on the cover in the other, the latter looking far too old and ominous to be in the hands of a teenage girl. "Now, with this flier," she announced dramatically, her voice echoing through the empty graveyard, "and this book, we will summon and bind a true demon to kill the Slayer. Then, we will take our rightful place among our vampire brothers and sisters."

    "Hester, are you sure about this?" the other girl in the cemetery asked, her voice tentative as she stepped forward, her hands clasped in front of her. "I mean, summoning a demon? That''s pretty heavy stuff."

    Directly opposite Hester stood Lisett Kurobara, a chubby Asian girl in round glasses and Hester''s fellow vampire friend. Lisette wore her hair in pigtails and sported similarly horrendous makeup, with the exception of the lines. She had on an ill-fitting tight purple dress and a set of pearls around her neck that definitely did not belong to her.

    "Of course I''m sure!" Hester snapped, her eyes flashing with annoyance as she looked from Lisette to the other people standing around the salt circle. "This is our chance, Lissy, Greg, Stevie. Our chance to prove ourselves, to show everyone that we''re not just some dumb kids playing at being vampires."

    To Hester''s right and left stood two boys, Gregory Braun and Steven Kurobara, both with makeup on but thankfully to a far lesser degree. Gregory, thin and tall, wore a midriff-baring sleeveless tight black leather turtleneck and pants of the same material, along with some black eyeshadow around his eyes, an attempt at looking edgy that fell somewhat flat.

    Steven, sporting the same eyeshadow as Greg behind his rectangular glasses, simply wore the same clothes he normally did, not bothering to change like the rest of the vampiric teenagers. His white button-up was untucked with the collar popped, and his hands were in his pockets, trying to give off an air of cool the same way all his friends attempted, but coming across as more awkward than anything¡­

    Which, more than anything else, was actually rather appropriate.

    "I don''t know, Hess," Greg spoke up, his voice hesitant. "This seems like a bad idea. I mean, what if we can''t control the demon? What if it turns on us?"

    Hester scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Don''t be such a pussy, Greg. We''re vampires. We can handle one little demon."

    The other three shared a look, used to their friend''s bouts of overconfidence but even still¡­

    "Besides," Hester raised a clawed hand in the air, "I saw the weakness in the Slayer''s eyes last night! She is tired, alone, and weak," she continued, crowing eagerly as her voice rose with each word until she was almost yelling. "Soon, we will destroy her completely!"

    Her three friends listened with rapt attention, a fervent innocence in their eyes and placid yet eager smiles that made them look all their sixteen years of age and not at all like undead creatures of the night.

    "By the way," Hester grinned, holding the book even higher as its pages rustled in the breeze, "I got this thing off Ebay a couple months back when I was human. I always knew it''d come in handy. It''s amazing what you can buy online. Internet shopping, it''s gonna be big."

    "Where''d you get the flier?" Steven asked, the teen vamp eyeing the black paper Hester clutched tightly with curiosity.

    Hester shrugged, waving her hand dismissively. "These slutty looking demon girls by the mall were handing them out. Figured it might come in handy, you know, for a rainy day."

    A moment later, the girl paused as her eyes roamed over the faces of her friends, her grin visibly widening as her face shifted ever so slightly, revealing the sharp fangs that had replaced her once human teeth. "Can you believe it? We''re gonna be the ones to take down the Slayer. Us! The Slayer Slayers!"

    Lisette giggled, clapping her hands together. "Ooh, I like that! The Slayer Slayers!"

    "It''s got a nice ring to it," Gregory agreed, nodding his head slowly, "I guess."

    Greg, ever the quiet one, simply gave the name a shrug, his all-leather outfit creaking with the movement. "Cool," he said, his tone flat as his eyes continued slowly scanning the cemetery.

    Hester rolled her eyes at Greg''s lack of enthusiasm, her heavily made-up face twisting into a scowl for a brief moment before smoothing back into a grin, determined not to let his apathy dampen her mood. She held her arms out wide, the book and flier still clutched in her hands, the pages of the former rustling in the gentle breeze. "Now..." she said, her voice dropping to a dramatic whisper, "are you ready to defeat the Slayer once and for all?"Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    "Y-yes, I''m ready," Greg answered, the quiet boy catching the crack in his voice before it became a full-blown stutter.

    "Sure, I''m down," Steve parroted, his hands brought together in a single awkward clap.

    "Whatever you want, Hester," Lisette said adoringly, her gaze never leaving Hester''s face.

    Hester''s grin widened, her smile turning malicious, a cruel glint in her eyes. "You guys, you''re such good friends. That dumb blonde Slayer doesn''t stand a chance against us. We''re going to tear her apart, piece by piece, until there''s nothing left but a bloody smear on the pavement."

    Her heart figuratively beating with excitement, Hester opened the aged tome of demon binding, the leather cover cracking and crumbling under her fingers, and placed the black flier next to the spot she would be reading from, prepared for the alterations she was making to the spell. The book felt heavy in her hands as she held it tight, as if afraid it might slip away at any moment, the weight of the ancient knowledge contained within its pages pressing down on her like a physical force.

    She cleared her throat, the sound harsh in the quiet of the night, and began to chant, her voice echoing slightly off the surrounding tombstones as the words fell from her lips with practiced ease, the Latin phrases rolling off her tongue as if she had been born speaking them.

    "Ex Ore Orci te voco, Alexander,

    Daemon parvulus, potestas nascens!"

    The air within the crudely drawn ritual circle¡ªdrawn in chalk and encircled by a sloppily llaid line of salt¡ªbegan to stir, the dead leaves and debris that littered the ground swirling in a sudden gust of wind that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. A faint red light seeped from the earth, tracing the intricate chalk lines with a luminosity that resembled flowing blood, thick and ominous. The stolen antique gold coins they had laid down at several points in the circle sunk into the ground, vanishing as if swallowed by the earth itself, as the surrounding air filled with a palpably foreboding energy, a heaviness that seemed to press down on the gathered vampires, making it hard to breathe despite their lack of need for air.

    Hester''s friends, three figures standing around the other points of the ritual circle, watched with widening eyes, their faces a mix of awe and fear. They stood frozen, their breaths held as they witnessed the earth bleed, the very ground beneath their feet coming to life with an unholy glow. Lisette clutched at her pearls, her fingers trembling slightly, a whimper escaping her throat, while Gregory and Steven exchanged nervous glances, their already slight bravado from earlier nowhere to be seen.

    But Hester remained unfazed, her lips curling into a viciously triumphant grin as she continued the chant, her voice rising in volume and intensity, the words pouring out of her like a twisted prayer.

    "Audi verba mea, venti damnatorum,

    Ad hunc circulum iusso congregamini.

    Per sanguinem et cinerem, per ferrum et ignem,

    Te invoco,

    Pedissequus Principis Umbrarum."

    The glow from the ground intensified, pulsating and expanding like a living, breathing thing, the light casting eerie shadows across the faces of the vampires. The initial lines of the ritual circle began to morph, spreading and intertwining into more complex symbols that hadn''t been there moments before, ancient runes and sigils that seemed to writhe and shift before their eyes.

    "Per portas Orci iter fac, ad me veni,

    Pactionem inire volo, nomine tuae potentiae!

    Daemon parvulus sed validus,

    Veni, veni, Alexander!

    Cliens permaneo," Hester declared, the energy sparking like lightning and symbols spreading like blood, as her voice echoed through the cemetery.

    A gust of wind whipped violently around the graveyard, bending and swaying the ancient trees that lined the edges. It howled through the tombstones, carrying with it the whispers of the damned, a haunting melody that sent shivers down the spines of the gathered vampires.

    Lisette raised an arm to shield her eyes, clutching her glasses tightly to prevent them from being swept away by the sudden localized storm. Her pigtails whipped around her face, lashing at her cheeks like tiny whips, the pearls around her neck clattering together

    "Praesidium et secreta mihi concede,

    Pactumque accepto, tibi munus meum devoveo!

    In hoc signo, hoc tempore, in tuo magno nomine,

    Veni, Alexander! Dominiumque tuum ostende!" Hester''s voice rose to a fever pitch, her words nearly drowned out by the roaring wind, but she persisted, yelling even louder.

    With a blinding flash of light that erupted from the center of the circle, accompanied by a deep, resonant growl that seemed to shake the very ground, the end of Hester''s chant was answered with a loud, "THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?"

    The vampires stumbled back, their hands raised to shield their eyes from the searing light, their ears ringing from the thunderous voice that had spoken. A figure materialized, one knee pressed against the earth, its head bowed low. Tendrils of smoke curled around its form, obscuring it from view for a moment before dissipating into the night air, carried away by the dying wind.

    As the light dimmed and the smoke cleared, Hester leaned forward, a wide grin plastered across her face, her eyes glinting with a manic excitement. Her heart, if it still beat, would have been pounding in her chest, her veins thrumming with anticipation. Her eyes were eager, hungry to behold the demon she had summoned from the depths of Hell, the fearsome creature that would be their key to defeating the Slayer once and for all.

    But after a tense moment, as her eyes adjusted to the sudden decrease in light, her grin faltered, replaced by a look of confusion. She blinked, once, twice, as if trying to clear her vision, to make sense of what she was seeing.

    A boy, one her age, knelt there, raising his head slowly to stare at her. A boy in a black bomber jacket and jeans.

    A boy.

    He opened his mouth to speak. "Before you ask, this is a Terminator reference." He smirked at her, expression not matching his eyes. "I''d have taken my clothes off, but you know¡­ these duds were pricey."

    Hester felt her eye twitch. "What the Hell?" she muttered, her head tilting to the side as she took in the figure before her.

    "Great choice of words," the boy responded, its tongue far from forked, yet still sharp with sarcasm all the same. "Allow me to answer that with a question." It raised its head as it stood to its full height, revealing a set of vicious eyes that locked onto Hester''s, flickering between hazel and a violent, bloody red as an odd grimace forced itself on its all-too-human lips. "What kind of borked summoning was that?"

    Hester started, taking in the sight of the figure in front of her again¡ªclad in a leather jacket, black chinos, and with a face as youthful, if not quite as pale as her own. This was not the fearsome demon she had imagined, not the monstrous creature of her darkest fantasies. This was just a boy, but she could barely bring herself to believe it.

    A boy with a mop of dark hair and a face that wouldn''t have looked out of place in her high school yearbook.

    "Uhhh¡­ what''s with the discount Fonzie getup?" Greg blurted out, eyes wide as the other three vampires.

    "First of all, I could only hope to be so cool as the Fonz," the figure shot back, his voice dripping with annoyance. "Second, why the hell did you guys summon me? The flier literally says Monday to Thursday, for new clients. I get weekends off, people."

    Frustrated, Hester couldn''t handle this insanity.

    Eye twitching, she pointed an accusing finger at the boy. "What the hell are you?!" she screeched, voice rising in a shrill demand.

    Xander Harris, rose to stand fully in the summoning circle, growled back with a mix of annoyance and confusion. "Uhhh duh, you summoned a Devil, right?"

    He gestured to himself with both hands, his leather jacket creaking with the movement. "Well, congratulations. You got one. Happy now?"

 Hate This Town VI

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    "Also, that outfit is a choice," Xander continued, fingers twitching as he fought back the urge to wince. "I mean, were you trying to summon a demon or lose your virginity to it?" His eyes roamed over the other three, turning as slowly as he could even as his muscles seemed to burn with every movement. What the hell did these weirdos do to me? he thought, gritting his teeth against the pain. It''s like I''m being grilled from the inside out.

    Despite the agony coursing through his body, Xander couldn''t help but take in the sight of the other three teenagers, each one more ridiculously dressed than the last. "Oh, wow¡­ all of you¡­ well, you tried," he said, the words coming out in a strained chuckle. Tried and failed miserably, but hey, points for effort, I guess.

    He was surprised he could speak without stuttering, the pain so intense that it felt like every nerve ending was on fire. Xander glanced down at the circle, anger and confusion warring on his face as he took in the odd symbols glowing an ominous red and the white line of¡­ salt? that was drawn around said circle. Great, not only am I being tortured, but I''m being seasoned too. What''s next, a little pepper and a side of fries?

    "Whatever!" The girl in front of him shouted, her makeup the most laughable of the bunch. Seriously, did she just close her eyes and hope for the best when she was putting that on? Xander wondered, barely suppressing a snort. "If you are a demon¡­"

    "No, I''m actually the Hamburglar," Xander shot back, wincing slightly as another burst of pain shot through him, making his knees buckle for a moment before he forced himself to stand straight again. Come on, Harris, keep it together. Don''t let Little Miss Anne Rice see you sweat. "You guys got any Happy Meals?"

    "What?" The girl pulled a face, clearly confused, and Xander had to fight back the urge to roll his eyes. Right, probably too busy shopping at Hot Topic and listening to The Cure to watch cartoons.

    Xander gestured at her with one lazy hand, the other tightly clenched into a fist at his side as he tried to ride out another wave of pain. "I just assumed you were obviously Ronald McDonald''s goth sister or something and I just wanted to play along, y''know." He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest in a move that he hoped looked more casual than it felt. "I gotta ask, though, were you going for medieval harlequin on purpose, or was all this," he waved a hand at her entire getup, "just a happy accident?"

    "Enough!" Harlequin girl screeched, clenching the book in her hand so tightly that Xander was surprised it didn''t crumble to dust.

    Jeez, take a chill pill, Bozo.

    "That eye makeup is definitely enough, yeah," Xander smirked, despite another shot of pain that nearly had him seeing stars. Damn, she''s annoying¡­ and loud. Why do the crazy ones always have to be so loud?

    "Demon¡­"

    "Devil," Xander corrected, more out of spite than anything else.

    Another burst of pain wracked his body as the words left his mouth, the teenage Fiend clenching his teeth shut tight rather than let it show on his face. Son of a¡­ what the hell did they do to me? He glanced down at the ritual circle under his feet again, wondering if this was why she seemed so confident. Does she think I can''t leave it or something?

    "You''re the Devil?" Another girl asked, looking far more nervous than the first. She looked pale, her skin slightly gaunt, which seemed at odds with the rest of her plump body. At least one of them has some sense, Xander thought, taking in her pigtails and the way she seemed to be trying to make herself as small as possible in her tight purple dress.

    Xander turned his head to face the pigtailed Asian girl, doing his best to ignore the way his neck muscles screamed in protest. "...a Devil, not the Devil. That might be my boss, I''m not sure. He''s really vague about it," he explained, shrugging one shoulder and immediately regretting it as another jolt of pain shot down his arm. "I mean, not vague vague, but definitely hiding something, I don''t really care though. Not a baddie, not my business."

    "Who cares?" The first girl spat as Xander turned back to face her, her black lipstick making her sneer look even more pronounced.

    I care, Elvira. I very much care about not being mistaken for the literal King of Hell, thank you very much.

    "We have summoned you, devil, to do our bidding."

    "No," Xander corrected again, fighting the urge to sigh in exasperation. Seriously, did she even read the flier before she started chanting? "You summoned me to make a deal. I can tell you paid something up front, otherwise the summoning wouldn''t have been so urgent. But whatever¡­ what do you want?"

    "We want justice!"

    The young Devil blinked, certain he must have misheard. Justice? From a group of discount Marilyn Manson wannabes? This ought to be good.

    "Justice for every weird kid that was picked on in high school," the girl finished, her voice ringing with a self-righteousness that made Xander want to gag.

    What. Xander''s mouth fell open slightly for a few seconds as he tried to process the sheer absurdity of the situation. "Let me get this straight. You summoned a literal Devil¡­" he took in a breath, "to get revenge on your high school bullies? Seriously?"

    The chubby Asian kid raised his hand.

    Xander felt his eye twitch as he turned to look at him. "I''m not your teacher, this is not English class, you don''t have to raise your hand."

    "Oh," the kid lowered it slowly, "Ummm¡­ yeah, pretty much, that was kinda sorta the plan."

    Xander shook his head, immediately regretting it as another wave of pain crashed over him. I''ve heard of petty, but this takes the cake.

    "...Listen¡­ what''s your name?" he asked, turning back to the clear ringleader. "You with all that on her face¡­" He did his very best to keep his voice level despite the growing urge to laugh in her face.

    "Hester," the Goth vampiress answered imperiously.

    Wow. He held his tongue on that one, biting down on at least three or four different jokes that popped into his head immediately. "Listen, Hester, I can relate, but I''m not sure how summoning a devil is gonna do that for you."

    "We''re going to rid the world of the perfect, pretty, popular Slayer-" Hester began, eyes wide and manic as she started to explain her grand plan.

    Xander''s, on the other hand narrowed, his hazel eyes unbeknownst to him shifting to and staying a particularly bloody shade of red. "Nerd vamps said what now?" he interrupted, his voice low and dangerous.

    "Then we''ll take our rightful place in vampire society, adored by all!" Hester finished, hands held high in a gesture of twisted triumph.

    Vampires. Xander took in a breath, turning around to face all four of them, the burning pain from whatever spell they had cast seeming to fade into the background as the familiar energy in his gut spiked. "So¡­ all of you are vampires?" he asked, though it was more of a statement than a question.

    A surrounding murmur of yes''s filled the graveyard, the chubby Asian boy in the popped collar adding, "Just got turned before Christmas, actually." Merry freakin'' Christmas to you too, buddy, Xander thought bitterly. Hope Santa brought you a nice, shiny new moral center to replace the one you lost.

    "Good for you¡­," his eye twitched as he held back his rage, the red energy inside him churning and twisting like a snake ready to strike. "And you want me to kill the Slayer." Again, not a question, not that the immortal teenagers in front of him seemed to notice as they answered in the affirmative once more.

    Xander took in another breath, fists clenched so tightly he could feel his nails digging into his palms. They want me to kill Buffy. They summoned me, a Devil, to murder one of my best friends. The thought alone was enough to make his blood boil, the red haze of anger threatening to consume him.

    "And¡­ forgive me if I''m wrong here, but you''re doing all of this so the cool vampire kids will let you sit at their table?" Xander asked calmly.

    At once, they nodded.

    The red-eyed devil felt his eye twitch again, a muscle in his jaw jumping as he fought to keep his composure. "That''s so fuckin'' lame."

    "Shut up!" Hester shouted back, her shrill voice grating on Xander''s already frayed nerves. He shot her a look that promised pain. Oh, I''ll shut up alright. Right after I shut you up permanently, you crazy bi-

    Xander ignored the twinge of pain as he stood up straight, the raw energy in his body thrumming like a live wire. "I get it. You''re newborns, bottom of the pecking order, thin-blooded cannon fodder. You can barely lift a fridge and outrunning a German Sheperd is a coin toss."

    "A German Sheperd bit me last week, actually," the white teen in tight clothes chimed in.

    "I didn''t ask, leather boy," Xander shot back calmly, crossing his arms. "Anyway, the smart thing to do would be to find some hidey-hole, like a nursing home and drink from the elderly for the next 25 years till you hit fucking fledge and you go from shit on the bottom of a vampire pilgrim''s buckled shoe to the dirt under that four hundred year old Prince''s stompers."

    The Asian boy looked up again. "...that''s a pretty logical plan."

    "Shut up, Steve!" The Goth shouted back at him. "That''s so uncool!"This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    "I can respect a vampire trying to kill me. Hell, I''d be fine with a vampire trying to summon me, but doing it out of peer pressure?" Xander continued as he shook his head, hiding his glances from side to side as he tried to keep his head, tried to focus on anything but the overwhelming urge to rip these idiots apart. "Don''t let other people tell you how to live your life. Or half-dead tortured existence, whatever."

    "I don''t care," Hester screeched again, her voice like nails on a chalkboard to Xander''s sensitive ears. "Are you gonna kill that stupid blonde Slayer bitch or not?"

    Xander simply smirked at the screaming girl, the expression more a baring of teeth than anything else. "Why would I kill one of my best friends for a bunch of bloodsuckers?"

    "Best fri-" Her words froze on her tongue, the girl''s eyes going wide as Xander rushed forward, only to slam painfully into what seemed to be an invisible wall.

    What the hell?

    "Shit!" A grunt of pain ripped from his lips as he hit the ground, one that seemed to be matched by three of the other vampires in the group. "What the hell?" He growled, getting back up on his feet, his body protesting the sudden movement. Xander held a hand up, palm coming in contact with what he could only describe as a red-tinted force field that seemed to ripple slightly under his touch. Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

    Hester watched him with an evil smile, her black lips curling up in a sadistic grin. Enjoy it while you can, Bozo. I''m gonna wipe that smirk right off your face.

    The young devil drew an arm back and drove a fist into the barrier with all his strength, red energy rippling from the point of impact and slamming back into him with a force that made him shout.

    Son of a- The force seemed to ripple out to the other three just like before, one of them falling to his knees, his face contorted in pain.

    "It hurts!" the Asian girl called out, panicked, her voice high and shrill. "It hurts! Hester, what''s happening?"

    "Isn''t it obvious?" Hester replied calmly, smiling at her friends like Sylvester looking at Tweety Bird. "Your energy is being drained to control and fully bind the demon." To her left and right, both boys dropped to their knees, screaming and holding themselves as red energy poured from their bodies like blood from a wound.

    "Why are you doing this?" the other girl asked weakly as she dropped to her hands and knees, her face pale and drawn. "We''re friends!"

    "And as my friends, you should be okay with doing me this one tiny favor."

    Xander stared in shock and rage, the red in his eyes shifting to the color of fresh blood. What kind of monster¡­ He couldn''t even finish the thought, raw disgust and anger choking him. Using your friends as batteries, as cannon fodder... all to get back at some high school bullies? You''re not just a monster, you''re a pathetic one.

    "Alright, fuck this!" Dark red energy surrounded Xander''s raised fist, seeping from his pores like oil before thickening into a dark miasma, crackling with potential.

    Yelling at the top of his lungs, a primal scream of rage and frustration, Xander plunged his fist into the ground, the energy surging through him and into the earth.

    With a sound like a cannonball, the ritual circle exploded.

    The force of the blast sent Xander flying back, his body slamming into a nearby tombstone with a sickening crack. Okay, ow. Note to self, be further away next time you decide to punch a magic circle.

    The devil got to his feet rather quickly as the pain faded fast, noting with some smugness that his clothes were untouched, not even dirty from being dragged through the dirt. Perks of being a demon, I guess, Xander thought, brushing off imaginary dust from his jacket. No dry cleaning bills for this guy.

    With a slow stride, he walked past a group of groaning, gaunt vampires, the three of them far too weak to be a threat right now, their faces drawn and pale, like they had been drained of all their energy. Serves them right, Xander mused, stepping over one of the prone bodies.

    He made his way past the scorched ground that had once held a glowing blood-red ritual circle, the earth blackened and smoking, the acrid scent of burnt grass and something else, something darker, filling his nostrils.

    He only had one target, and his eyes were locked on her like a missile seeking heat.

    The girl in question, Hester, tried to crawl away, her face in full vampire mode, ridges and fangs on display as she tried to draw on all her strength. It was a futile effort, one leg entirely broken, the bone poking through the skin, and the other filled with gravel, leaving deep, bloody gashes.

    "Stay away! Stay away from me! Don''t¡­ don''t, don''t touch me!" she screamed, her voice high and panicked, a far cry from the confident ringleader she had been just minutes before.

    "You''re an idiot, you know..." he said with a sigh.

    Hester shook her head, chest heaving despite her lack of need to breathe.

    "I don''t know why you thought it''d be a good idea to mess with the bindings that already that exist in that circle that make me unable to kill you..." he shook his own head, actually confused. "The torture bit every time I disobeyed you was bad enough, but removing the part that keeps your ass from being demon food... I don''t get it... that''s on the flier for a reason, so we don''t get any funny ideas. Why would you?"

    Xander came to a stop just a foot or two away, standing over the girl with a look of contempt on his face as he stared down at her. Not so tough now, are you? he thought, a grim satisfaction settling in his chest. "Anyway... I can make it quick¡­ or I can make it slow, your choice."

    "...what was that?" the girl finally asked, not answering his question, her yellow eyes wide with fear and something else, something that might have been awe if it wasn''t so heavily tinged with terror.

    He raised his eyebrows, not expecting the question. She''s about to die, and that''s what she''s worried about? Priorities, much? "...I don''t actually know," he admitted with a shrug. "Didn''t even know I could do it till you pissed me off. Not all that good at this magic shit, or this demon shit, to be honest, outside of the killing stuff. Don''t even have enough Demon Energy to grant wishes yet. Energy''s too unstable to even cast cantrips, even, li-wait..."

    Xander blinked, shaking his head. "Why am I telling you this? I need to get a personal note recorder. I''m venting to fucking leeches. What would Sam say?"

    "...who''s S-Sam?"

    Xander glanced down. "Shut up. Anyway, I''m thinking of calling it Hell Impact." Xander raised his fist again and smirked, a little proud of the name as red light flared around his fist, to a much smaller degree than before. "Drains me like helll but... whaddya think?"

    She glared at him impotently, not even bothering to move anymore. "You''re a monster."

    "Well, technically..." The Fiend stared back, unmoved by her accusation. "The same way a tomato''s a fruit, but you trying to murder your friends makes you the actual monster," he said, his voice flat and cold.

    He raised his sneakered foot over her head as the goth let out a final pained hiss, trying to rear up at him. It almost might have been scary if it weren''t so pathetic.

    "Also, you''re a vampire. That also pretty much makes you a monster," Xander added, almost as an afterthought. In case there was any doubt.

    With that, he brought his foot down, a sickening crunch echoing through the graveyard as Hester''s vampiric skull caved in under the force of his stomp. Her body crumbled to dust a moment later, leaving nothing but a pile of ashes and the fading echoes of her scream.

    Well, that was therapeutic, Xander thought to himself. I should really stomp on vampires more often. His gaze slowly turned to the other bloodsuckers in the graveyard, all three of them half-conscious a few yards away. Speaking of¡­

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    10 Minutes Later

    Brown eyes behind a pair of big round glasses blinked slowly, blearily opening wide as a tired, pale face rose from the cemetery ground. Glancing around as she sat up, the young female vampire could only ask weakly, "...Hester?"

    "She''s dead, Jim," Xander answered back from where he sat on a gravestone, watching the three young vampires regain consciousness, his legs swinging idly. Took them long enough.

    The pigtailed girl turned around to see him and blinked, confusion clear on her face as she gripped her dress tightly. "...who''s Jim?"

    Xander frowned, letting out a long sigh as he hung his head. "...savages. Anyway," He hopped down from his makeshift seat, hands sliding into his pockets as he sauntered over to the trio of dazed vampires. "What are your names?"

    "...what?" the sole girl asked, clearly confused.

    Xander sighed. "Names. Now."

    "I''m Steven," the chubby Asian boy with glasses blurted out. He jabbed a thumb at the boy by his side, "This is Greg." And then an index at the bespectacled girl, "That''s my cousin, Lisette."

    "Okay, thank you," Xander nodded slowly, watching the three of them squirm and trying to act like he didn''t enjoy it a little. "Now¡­ you guys have¡­ three?" He tilted his head to the side, considering for a moment before nodding. "Three minutes to convince me not to kill you."

    The boy wearing glasses with the popped collar could only blink, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. The other two stared at Xander, their eyes wide and their jaws practically on the floor.

    "What?" the boy finally managed to croak out, his voice hoarse and weak.

    "Go."

    The three vampires scrambled to their feet, their eyes wide with panic as they faced the devil who had just given them an ultimatum. They glanced at each other, a silent conversation passing between them, before the girl with the pigtails, Lisette, spoke up, her voice high-pitched and frantic. "We didn''t... we didn''t want to do any of this. It was all Hester''s idea," she said, her hands waving in front of her. "She was our friend, and she... she got us all turned. Said it would be cool, that we could live forever and be young and go to cool parties and just play video games and stuff."

    The boy with the popped collar, Steven, nodded frantically, his head bobbing up and down like a toy on a dashboard. "Yeah, yeah! And like, we just wanted to see future cars and technology and all that. We didn''t want to hurt anyone, honest!" His words tumbled out in a rush, tripping over each other in his haste to explain.

    Greg, the other boy, chimed in, his voice quivering. "We''ve been stealing blood from the hospital, because we didn''t want to drink from people. Only Hester ever drank from people!"

    Xander raised an eyebrow, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked over all of them with a skeptical look. Stealing blood bags, huh? he thought, a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. Gotta give ''em points for creativity. "...that not drinking from people thing? Is it cause you didn''t want to kill or cus you were too lazy to?"

    Steven shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting to the side as he fidgeted with the collar of his shirt. "More the first, but also... we didn''t really have a lot of clothes and didn''t wanna mess up the ones we had. Blood''s really hard to get out," he admitted, his voice small and sheepish.

    The other two shot him horrified looks, their eyes wide and mouths agape. ''Why would you say that?'' was written all over their faces, as clear as if they had shouted it out loud.

    The Fiend grinned, a flash of white teeth in the darkness. "I like you," he said, pointing at Steven with an outstretched finger.

    "Honesty, that''s good," he clapped his hands together firmly. "You know, for a leech, you''re alright." And here I thought all vampires were lying, murderous assholes, Xander mused silently. The more you know...

    Steven blinked at the compliment... insult? as Xander nodded slowly, his head tilting from side to side as if weighing their words. "Hmm. Hmm," he hummed, the sound thoughtful and drawn out. The vampires held their breath, not daring to move or speak, as if the slightest twitch might set him off. He enjoyed the fear honestly, as long as it kept them in line.

    A moment later, Xander cupped his chin, his expression serious. "I''ve made my decision," he announced, the vampires tense as his voice went hard.

    "I''m not gonna kill you."

    Lisette''s eyes widened, a flicker of hope sparking to life in their depths. "You''re gonna let us go?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

    Xander snorted, the sound dismissive as he shook his head. "As if," he let out a cackle, rolling his eyes. Like I''d just let a bunch of leeches slink off into the night.

    Steven frowned, confusion etched on his face. "But you said..."

    Xander interrupted, one hand swinging down like a knife as he made a buzzer sound, the noise loud and jarring in the quiet of the graveyard. "I said I wouldn''t kill you, not that I''d let you go," he clarified.

    Greg swallowed hard, his Adam''s apple bobbing in his throat. "So what are you gonna do to us?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly. "Like... torture?"

    "Wow... uh, no. That leather might be getting to you, buddy. Pull it back a littl. I''m thinking¡­" Xander tapped his chin. "Internship."

    "Isn''t that another word for slavery?" Steven asked, wringing his fingers together.

    "Yes."

    "...Oh... do we get snacks?"

    "Ask again and it''s gonna be a no," the dark-haired Fiend shot back, shooting the chubby vamp a look.

    "Oh..." The Asian boy deflated for a moment, before brightening slightly. "...so that''s a yes."

    Is this what Sam feels like with me? He frowned slightly, letting out a sigh That guy must be a saint. "Any more non-stupid questions?"

    The vampire boy''s cousin spoke up, clearly as fearful as the other two. "W-where is this internship?"

    "Great question," Xander smirked, a glint in his eye that made the vampires shift uneasily. "You guys ever heard of Rosen Queen?"

 Hunter & Hunted I

    Hunter & Hunted I

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C

    Your Infernal Beginning: A Guide for Newly Reincarnated Devils?

    By Samuel Lucius Ash VI?

    <hr>

    Greetings and congratulations on your transformation into a Devil!

    There are many new parts to your life, from your duties as a member of your King''s peerage, to the curious new aspects of Devil life, all the way down to the interesting oddities of your Fiendish form. As you step into this new chapter of your existence, as your King, I warmly welcome you to a realm of infinite possibilities and power. This booklet is designed to serve as your introductory guide through the exciting and sometimes daunting world of Devil society.

    While the term "demon" often conjures images of various malevolent supernatural entities across the multiverse, as a Devil, you belong to a unique and distinguished lineage.

    Your Heritage

    Devils, also referred to as Fiends, are direct descendants of both Lucifer; the Great Adversary, Original Rebel, Bringer of Light, Morning Star, Fallen Seraph, Sovereign of Sin, Keeper of Knowledge and the original Satan, and Lilith; the First Woman, the Bearer of Evil, Herald of Rebellion, Consort of Darkness, Matron of the Night''s Realm and Queen Mother of Hell.

    This divine and infernal lineage grants every Devil not only remarkable longevity and formidable strength but also an immense potential for accruing power. Unlike the broader category of demons, generally rabble of no greater worth or potential ¡ª and rather ugly at that;varying widely in appearance and ability ¡ª Devils possess a strictly human-like appearance, reflecting their unique origin of being formed by beings made in the image of Him.

    You are now part of a unique and powerful community, distinguished by its rich heritage and supernatural abilities. As a newly reincarnated Devil, there''s much to learn about your present existence, the powers at your disposal, and the societal structures that will define your new life.

    Here, you will find everything you need to navigate your transformation successfully:

    <ul>

    <li>Understanding Your Abilities: Learn about the potent magical energies known as Demonic Power that you now command, and how to harness them effectively.</li>

    <li>Society and Hierarchy: Get to know the complex hierarchy that structures Devil society and where you fit into this new netherworld of yours.</li>

    <li>Cultural Insights: Dive into the rich cultural traditions and the ethical considerations of being a Devil, helping you to interact and thrive among your peers.</li>

    <li>Common Challenges: Equip yourself with knowledge about the potential challenges and vulnerabilities you might face, including how to overcome them.</li>

    </ul>

    This guide aims to ease your transition, providing you with a foundation of knowledge that will help you embrace your new identity with confidence.

    Harnessing Demonic Power: Understanding the Paths to Strength

    As a newly reincarnated Devil, or Fiend, one of your primary concerns will be understanding how to gain and grow your Demonic Power. This natural essence, which is the core of a demon''s strength, can be augmented through three traditional Ways, that of the Devil, that of the Imp, and that of the Fiend.

    The Devil Way: Pathways of Wrath, Pride, and Gluttony

    <ol>

    <li>Wrath: Engaging in combat is a traditional method for Devils to enhance their power. When you defeat enemies, especially those who are strong or numerous, you can acquire a portion of their animus (outer life) or vitus (inner life), components of their soul. It''s important to note that while animus can regenerate, excessive draining can be harmful, thus moderation and respect for foes remain crucial.</li>

    <li>Pride: Belief in one''s own power is more than just confidence; it is a means of soul-strengthening. Achieving unyielding self-assurance can significantly amplify your Demonic Power. However, true pride requires not only belief in oneself but also accomplishments that justify such belief.</li>

    <li>Gluttony: Historically, consuming the essence of other beings offered a rapid increase in strength. Currently, this practice is largely abandoned to promote ethical interactions with other entities and to foster healthier relationships within the multiverse.</li>

    </ol>

    The Imp Way: The Path of Sloth

    Sloth: The slow and natural increase of Demonic Power over time is considered the least effective method. Especially for those not born with substantial inherent power, relying solely on passive growth can result in minimal gains. Active engagement in other methods is recommended to truly thrive as a Devil.

    The Fiend Way: Paths of Greed/Envy and Lust

    <ol>

    <li>Greed/Envy: Making contracts with humans is a primary function of modern Devil society. By fulfilling human desires, you can acquire portions of their soul, either in the form of animus or vitus.</li>

    <li>Lust: This method involves the absorption of animus or vitus through intimate connections. Relatively effe-</li>

    </ol>

    "Xander!"

    "Whazzat?!" Xander jumped slightly as a hand slapped his arm. His head snapped up and snapped to the side as he looked over at Willow, quickly stuffing the booklet titled "How to Be a Devil" into his back pocket, hoping she hadn''t seen it. Training manual of evil? What''s that? Who''s Sam?

    "The zebras?" she shouted again with a giggle, still pointing.

    "Yeah, I know, right?" Xander flashed a lopsided grin, quickly deflecting Willow''s attention from his weirdness with humor. "Are they black with white stripes, or white with black stripes? Like, make up your mind."

    Willow, however, was not to be distracted. She frowned, obviously not amused by his attempt at humor, and pointed vigorously toward the zebra enclosure. "No! They''re mating!"

    Xander turned his gaze in the direction she pointed, his expression transforming into one of mild shock mixed with curiosity. "Oh... wow, just like the Discovery Channel," he muttered, a goofy chuckle leaving his lips as he watched the natural scene.

    "I can''t believe they would do that with everyone watching," Willow continued, her voice a mix of fascination and embarrassment. "It''s like they don''t even care that we''re here."

    Xander raised his eyebrows, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well, when nature calls, I guess." He glanced around, noting that a few other students were also watching, some with interest and others with embarrassed giggles.

    Trying to shift the topic from zebra romance, Xander leaned closer to Willow, lowering his voice. "So, did you bring any of those oat bars your mom makes? Because watching all this zebra action is making me hungry."

    Willow rolled her eyes but smiled, digging into her backpack. "You''re impossible, Xander. Here," she said, handing him a homemade oat bar. "Don''t ever change."

    "Thanks, Will." He accepted the snack, grateful for the change in topic and the chance to recover from the surprise of their unexpected zoological lesson. As he chewed, his thoughts drifted back to the hidden booklet in his pocket. How to Be a Devil, huh? Gotta admit, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. He nodded to himself, silently in thought. Where''s the virgin sacrificing? The drinking of children''s blood? The eating of puppies? Like, the actual evil, it has to be somewhere, right?

    ¡­right?

    He raised a single eyebrow, swallowing the snack. Seriously, if there''s this many upsides to being a demon, why isn''t half the world one?

    "You know, I''ve been thinking," Willow said suddenly. Xander looked down at the girl, her gaze thoughtful as she watched the zebras now calming down and pulling away from each other. "We learn about all this stuff in school, right? Biology, math, history... But when do we ever learn about the really important things?"

    Xander paused mid-bite, considering her words. After a moment, he shot her a grin, large and toothy. "Like what? How to file taxes, or all the fun parts of Sex Ed?"

    "Xander!" Willow''s face went red, the redhead averting her eyes as she cast her eyes to the ground. "I¡­ I¡­ l-letsgofindBuffy!"

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    "Hey! Buffy!" Xander called out, his voice echoing slightly in the open space near the elephant enclosure. He and Willow had just seen something in the zoo that definitely beat any biology class. She''s gonna get a kick out of this, he thought, a grin already spreading across his face. Jogging up to her, he noticed the distracted look on her face as she rounded the corner, her eyes distant and her brow slightly furrowed. Uh oh, looks like someone''s got a case of the Mondays... on a Wednesday.

    Willow was practically bouncing next to him, her usual state of being whenever she had exciting news. "You missed it!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with the kind of enthusiasm that made even the mundane seem thrilling, like she had just discovered the secret to cold fusion or something.

    Buffy, always a good sport, played along, her brow furrowing further in mock curiosity. "Missed what?" she asked, turning to face them fully, her hands on her hips in a classic Buffy pose.

    Xander couldn''t suppress his grin, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards like they had a mind of their own. "We saw the zebras mating," he announced with a dramatic flair, his hands waving in the air as if presenting a grand revelation. "Thank you, very exciting," he added, his tone dripping with sarcasm, though a part of him really found the whole thing bizarrely interesting. I mean, how often do you get to see a live nature documentary?

    Willow chimed in, her description vivid. "It looked like the Heimlich. With stripes." Her smile was usually contagious, lighting up her whole face, but Xander could tell that Buffy''s reaction was subdued this time, like she was only half-listening.

    "And I missed it," Buffy played along, her voice laden with feigned disappointment, her bottom lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout. "Yet, somehow I''ll find the courage to live on." She gave them a theatrical sigh, the back of her hand pressed to her forehead like a swooning damsel, which made Xander chuckle.

    They began to meander along the zoo''s pathways, the gravel crunching under their feet and the scent of popcorn and animal musk mingling in the air. As they walked, Xander felt the need to probe a little, to see what was up with Buffy''s mood. "Where were you?" he asked, genuinely curious about what could have taken Buffy away from their planned meet-up. "You find a vamp in the monkey house or something?"

    "I was looking at the fishes," Buffy replied, tone flat and uninterested.

    "Was it cool?" Willow asked, sounding at least three times more sincere than Buffy.

    Buffy seemed to consider her answer for a moment, her head tilting slightly to the side as if weighing her words. "It was fishes," the blonde said simply, her shoulders lifting in a small, bored shrug.

    Picking up on her lack of enthusiasm, Xander couldn''t help but comment, his brow raising slightly. "I''m feeling that you''re not in the field trip spirit here," he observed, trying to keep the mood light despite sensing her subdued vibe. Come on, Buff-Buff, this is supposed to be a fun day! No slaying, no bloodsucky beasties, just good old-fashioned wholesome shenanigans of the adolescent variety.

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    Buffy''s response was very bleh, her eyes darting away for a moment. "Well, it¡­it''s nothing." She shrugged again, but this time it seemed forced, like she was trying to convince herself as much as them. "Anyway, we did the same zoo trip at my old school every year. Same old, same old."

    Oh no, we''re not letting you off that easy, Xander thought, determined to get to the bottom of Buffy''s funk. "Buffy, this is not just about looking at a bunch of animals," he pointed out, his voice playful. "This is about not being in class."

    That got a smile from Buffy, small but genuine, like a ray of sunshine peeking through the clouds. Xander felt a hint of pride for managing to lift her spirits, even if just a little. Score one for the Xan-Man!

    "You know, you''re right," Buffy admitted, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she looked around again. "Suddenly the animals look shiny and new."

    "Gotta have perspect-wait, what''s going on there?" Xander''s tone and attention shifted as the three of them slowed down slightly, his eyes focused on another student entering the closed off entrance to the hyena exhibit, said entrance absolutely covered with multiple warning signs, caution tape and flashing orange lights.

    "Was that Lance?" Willow asked, eyes slightly wide as the boy disappeared down the path, followed by several others quickly dipping in after him.

    Xander frowned. Lance Lincoln was a shy kid who was a regular target for Sunnydale High bully wannabes. Honestly, he had been one since middle school. for the fact that he always gave in to said bullies, making him an easy target in their eyes.

    "Yeah," Buffy frowned as well. "And he was with Kyle''s group, those idiots."

    Xander''s scowl deepened. There was something very wrong about this picture, and it was as obvious as Lance''s bright red sweater ¡ª he would never be part of that crowd. Xander knew Lance was no more likely to hang with Kyle and those guys than Willow was. Or himself, even. Like, not at all.

    "What are Kyle and his buds doing with Lance?" Willow asked.

    To Xander, the answer was clear. "Playing with him, as the cat plays with the mouse."

    "What is it with those guys?" Buffy asked. They stopped at the tape, looking down the path. Lance and the others were gone from sight. "They tried to get in my face right before you guys showed up."

    "They''re obnoxious," Willow said, crossing her arms over her chest as the three of them walked closer to the hyena exhibit. "Professionally."

    "Every school has ''em," Xander explained, his voice carrying a casual, almost dismissive tone as he shrugged his shoulders. "You start a school, you get desks, some blackboards, and some mean kids." He counted off each item on his fingers, as if it were a universal checklist for educational institutions. "It''s like a package deal, you know? Can''t have one without the others."

    Buffy started toward the tape, her eyebrows furrowed. "Yeah, well, I better extract Lance before ¡ª" Her words were cut short as Xander raised a hand, stopping her in her tracks.

    But Xander raised a hand before she could actually enter, stopping her in her tracks. "I''ll handle it, Buffster" he offered. "This job doesn''t require actual slaying." I hope. He ducked under the tape and headed for the hyenas, fully aware that the two girls behind him were watching him go.

    Quickly walking down the tunnel towards the hyena exhibits, Xander''s nose wrinkled as a pungent odor assaulted his senses. It was like rotten, fetid meat ¡ª many days, if not weeks old ¡ª and it made him want to gag. What the hell are they feeding these things? he wondered, his stomach churning at the thought. Roadkill surprise?

    As he approached the exhibit, he arrived just in time to see Lance being held in front of the bars to the hyena cage, his face mere inches from the snarling beast within. The hyena stood in the middle of the pen, its dark muzzle pulled back to reveal large, pointed teeth that gleamed in the dim light. It growled menacingly, the sound sending a shiver down Xander''s spine.

    "Hey!" A familiar voice yelled out, fear and anxiety clear in its tone. Xander''s head snapped towards the sound, his eyes widening as he spotted Lance struggling against the grip of his tormentors.

    Xander''s grimace shifted from disgust to anger as he saw a hand on the back of Lance''s head ¡ª from who exactly, he wasn''t sure ¡ª pushing the boy''s face even closer to the cage as the group of bullies laughed, their voices echoing off the concrete walls.

    "Ow!" Lance whined, his voice high-pitched and panicked as he struggled to step away from the growling hyena. "Stop it! That''s not funny!" He squirmed in their grasp, his feet scrambling for purchase on the smooth floor.

    Xander heard that last part, and had to agree ¡ª despite the raucous laughter coming from the Kyle Brigade, none of it sounded terribly humorous. In fact, it sounded downright cruel. "He said, stop it!" he shouted, his voice booming in the enclosed space as he leapt up the stairs and into the thick of it.

    With a strength he barely held back to avoid doing damage, Xander yanked the bullies'' arms away from Lance, his fingers digging into their flesh. He shoved Lance out of their reach, sending the boy stumbling in the direction of the stairs. "Go on, get out of here," he urged, his eyes never leaving the group of teenagers in front of him.

    As Lance stepped a good distance away, cowering by the stairs, Xander found himself eyeball to eyeball with Kyle, the ringleader of the little gang. "Why don''t you pick on someone your own species?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

    The other dark-haired teen glared back, not giving an inch. "What, are you gonna get in my face?" he sneered, his lip curling in a mocking smile.

    Xander scoffed, his own lips twisting into a sneer. "Where does it look like I am right now, genius?" he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I''m so close I can smell your breath, and let me tell you, it ain''t minty fresh."

    The hyena interrupted the stare-down with another long, low growl. It raised its head into the light again, its eyes glinting with an almost unnatural intelligence. Xander found his attention drawn to the animal in a way he couldn''t properly put into words. The thing was not lovely at all, its fur matted and its teeth bared, but its eyes held a mesmerizing quality, and the five of them ¡ª Xander included ¡ª found themselves staring into those eyes, unable to look away.

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    Ax Xander walked away from the bullies, after staring off into space for who knows how long, the teenager stumbled back to his friends with a sheen of sweat on his forehead, seemingly out of sync with his own body as he moved.

    The other four ¡ª Kyle, Rhonda, Tor, and Heidi ¡ª simply stood there for a few minutes more, staring back at the hyena until it finally scampered off back into its den to rest, the beast seemingly tired for whatever reason.

    Hours later, they strolled the zoo grounds, the school buses long gone. They had hidden, obviously, watching with barely-repressed laughter as the teachers frantically searched for them, Principal Flutie among them.

    Nearly a quarter of an hour of punching each other on the arms and biting back raucous laughter. Finally, Mr. Flutie had given the order to go ahead without them ¡ª Another black mark on our permanent records, Kyle thought. How would we ever survive?

    They''d get home somehow. It wasn''t that far. Nothing to sweat.

    But ¡ª and this went unspoken among them ¡ª none of them wanted to leave. Something about the place ¡ª the sound of hooves scrabbling on dirt, the ruffling of feathers, the sharp smells of feed and fur and filth ¡ª drew them.

    Kept them here.

    They felt strangely at home.

    They wandered the paths, laughing at the locals looking into the enclosures, and the tourists in town from Ohio or Omaha or some other pointless flyover spot, getting their first glimpse at a real California zoo. An hour or so after the buses had finally gone, they came across a young couple, arm in arm on a bridge, watching ring-tailed lemurs scamper around an island enclosure.

    The couple looked to be in their late twenties, maybe early thirties. Middle class. He was tall and clean cut, dark and handsome, the classic type. She was smaller, and cute, in that red-haired, freckled way.

    Young marrieds, intent on starting a family, maybe.

    Yuppies. Conventional.

    Kyle hated them on sight.

    He started to say something to the others, but his gaze met Rhonda''s and he knew he didn''t have to. We''re all on the same page, he realized. In sync.

    The couple faced the cage, their backs to the path. Kyle stepped up to the safety railing, next to the redhead.

    "Like those monkeys?" he asked her.

    "I don''t think they''re monkeys," she started to say. The man, the husband, just glared at him.

    Heidi approached the man, put her hand on his arm as if he were an old friend. A very good friend.

    "I think they''re funny," she said. "Do you think they can smell us from here?"

    "Across the water?" the man asked. "I wouldn''t think so." He tugged his arm away, but Heidi persisted, holding tight with a sort of strength the man clearly found surprising by the look on his face..

    "You don''t mind, do you," she asked the wife. "Donald and I go way back."

    "My name''s not Donald," he insisted.

    "It''s not," his wife said, backing him. "It''s Henry."

    Heidi laughed, cruel and almost manic but she held it back somewhat. "I thought you were going to stop using Henry," she said, cooing at the grown man. "Don''t tell me you told her you were a programmer, too."

    Henry''s face was clouding over quickly, anger warring with his sense of impropriety at the idea of a teenage girl speaking to him like this. "Listen," he grumbled. "I don''t know what you''re trying to pull here ¡ª "

    "Oh, very good," Rhonda said. "I''d almost believe it if I didn''t know you."

    "Henry, you don''t know these people, do you?" the redhead asked, sounding sad, almost pathetic, even.

    "Of course not!" Henry barely kept his voice level, looking between his wife and the teenagers surrounding them. "They''re children."

    "You''re hurting my feelings, Donald," Heidi whimpered. She put her hands on his chest, the man quickly doing his best to brush them away.

    "Be nice, Donald," Tor said. He swelled out his chest and arms, trying to look threatening. "Is that any way to treat old friends?"

    The woman''s head swiveled like a spectator at a tennis match. Tears started to run down her cheeks.

    "I''ve never seen these people before in my life," Henry fully thundered, flicking back between Tor and his wife. "Now get away from us or I''m calling security!"

    "Ooooh," Kyle said in mock terror. "Not that!"

    "I mean it." Henry pulled a cell phone from his pants pocket and started to punch in numbers.

    "I said, not that!" Kyle slapped Henry''s hand from beneath and the tiny phone went flipping end over end, landing with a small splash in the water beneath the bridge.

    Henry''s face turned bright red. "Do you have any idea how much ¡ª"

    Kyle cut him off. "Can it, Donald. We''re tired of you. You want to lie to this nice lady, pretend you don''t know us, that''s fine. We don''t know you either. Come on, guys."

    He started off the bridge, clomping loudly on the wood as he went. He didn''t look back, but heard the others following him. Behind them, he could hear Henry and his wife talking, arguing, their marriage likely going through something it might never recover from.

    A match made in heaven. A blowhard and an airhead, both full of wind.

    Kyle started to laugh.

    Heidi joined in.

    Within seconds, they were all laughing so hard they could barely stand. They flopped down on a swatch of grass, rolling with laughter. Loud, high-pitched squeals of laughter, the kind that was so funny that when one of them stopped, the sound of it got him or her going again.

    They were still laughing an hour later, when the zoo closed.

 Hunter & Hunted II

    Hunter & Hunted II

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    The Next Day

    Alexander LaVelle Harris was not feeling his best.

    Honestly, no, that was putting it mildly.

    Very mildly.

    In more accurate terms, he could only say he felt like someone had refried a bucket of shit in dirty rat-infested oil from the Doublemeat Palace, mixed the result of that with fresh sewage and then left that concoction to sit in the sun to get all nice and warm. And then force-fed it to me, he thought, his stomach churning at the mere idea. Yum yum, gimme some.

    So, yeah¡­ not his best.

    Not by a long shot.

    He''d been weird since after the zoo yesterday, his memories of what he''d done after rescuing Lance seeming oddly faded out, like someone had taken an eraser to his mental chalkboard and just went to town slamming that eraser into said chalkboard. Might explain the pounding in my head.

    It''s like he blinked and, all of a sudden, school was over, and he found himself jumping from the hyena enclosure to the Rosen Queen; Sam''s over-decorated office, to be exact.

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    "-iking the booklet?"

    Xander blinked, the action slightly slower than he felt was normal.

    He raised his head, the movement feeling like it took far more effort than it reasonably should have. "Huh, you say something, boss?" His voice sounded distant to his own ears, like he was speaking from the bottom of a well.

    The red-headed boy in a suit, Samuel Lucius Ash VI, raised a hand to his head as he quirked an eyebrow in Xander''s direction, brushing some of his dreadlocks back behind his ear with casual grace. "I''ve been saying something for the last five minutes..." he drawled, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "...hm."

    Turning from where he stood at the far end of the room, Samuel put his hands behind his back and shifted to properly look at Xander, his piercing blue eyes seeming to see right through the young Devil. "But what I asked was... how are you liking the booklet?"

    Xander blinked again, his eyes much more responsive this time. "O-oh, yeah. Love it. Tons of good info," he stammered, trying to sound more enthusiastic than he felt.

    "You sure about that?" Samuel probed lightly, head tilting slightly to the side as he studied Xander''s face.

    Xander nodded, perhaps a bit too vigorously. "Y-yeah, yeah," he assured him, though the sudden motion made him wince, a sharp pain lancing through his skull. The room took a gentle spin, and he gripped the edge of his chair to steady himself, his knuckles turning white. Whoa there, cowboy. Let''s not go for a ride just yet.

    "Alright then," Sam nodded in return, seeming to accept Xander''s answer for now. He strode across the room with a fluid grace, his expensive-looking shoes clicking softly on the hardwood floor. He leaned up against his even more expensive-looking wooden desk, crossing his ankles in a casual pose that somehow still managed to look regal. "Any questions about some of the stuff written there or..."

    Xander shook his head quickly, the young devil wincing at the action as the room seemed to sway again. "Yeah, y-yeah, just not right now..." he managed to get out.

    After a pause, during which Sam scrutinized him more intently, his blue eyes boring into Xander like laser beams, the demon finally spoke. "...Alright. Well... I just wanted to let you know that the three Corpses you sent to me are doing a rather good job. For teenagers, they''re taking to things rather quickly. Although, I suppose that''s expected."

    Xander blinked, confusion clear on his face as he tried to process Sam''s words. "The who?"

    Sam raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "The¡­ Corps-"

    After a moment, he let out a slight laugh, shaking his head. "Different terminology, I see. What you term as Vampires... I would consider closer to a Corpse Tier Undead, a Revenant really, if slightly shittier overall, despite their agility. Two steps past a zombie, with one more step to the right. "

    The Devil shook his head again, the look on his face conveying complete disdain, as if he had just stepped in something unpleasant. "Really, no magic or true ability among the general species. Even the Nosferat need half a century to really do anything worth noticing. For the rest, just bloodsucking and a dead body? A waste of the term."

    Xander blinked, nodding slowly as he tried to wrap his mind around what was just explained to him. "...huh." So vampires are just shitty zombies? Good to know, I guess.

    "Honestly, I might have to see what I can do to fix that," the demon mused to himself for a moment, hand on his chin. "They''re not bad kids, honestly."

    The moment passed and Sam''s attention turned back to him, his expression growing serious again. "Yeah, there''s something wrong with this picture. No follow-up, no joke, not even an attempt to cut me off with some inane question..."

    The Fiend demon let out a sigh, shrugging his suit jacket off his shoulders and laying it over his chair, leaving him in only a black vest that hugged his lean frame. He stared at Xander, his eyes intense and searching. "What''s going on with you?"

    Xander wasn''t even sure how to answer that. He felt like his brain was wrapped in cotton, his thoughts sluggish and muddled. "I... dunno, I just feel... weird," was all he could muster.

    "Hm." Sam raised an eyebrow, before swiping up with one finger. Translucent red screens popped up in front of him, hovering in the air like holograms. His eyes trailed through each one as he looked between them and Xander, his expression unreadable.

    Xander wasn''t even sure what was supposed to be on them as they looked entirely blank from behind, at least from where he stood. More devil magic, I guess, he thought, too tired to even be impressed anymore.

    "Yeah... go get some rest," Sam finally announced, dismissing the screens with a wave of his hand. They vanished as quickly as they had appeared, leaving no trace of their existence. "We''ll talk tomorrow."

    "...okay."

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    Only he couldn''t.

    Get some rest, that is.

    He had avoided Willow and Buffy as much as he could all day, not wanting them to catch whatever it was he had. I thought being a demon meant I couldn''t get sick.

    Staying at home wasn''t an option either; Tony''s yelling was loud enough when Xander seemed to be dragging his feet leaving the house this morning, his dad''s voice grating on his already frayed nerves. He didn''t think his brain could take an extended session if he decided to skip school for being sick.

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    Expecting his mom to do anything was out of the question, either. She simply asked him if he was okay and then drifted away, a bottle in hand. He''d almost been getting his hopes up, too, at least when it came to her. She''d been acting better every time she came home from her trips to see her friends.

    Skipping P.E. by staying in the bathroom the whole time had been a g-Satansend?...a satansend, but knowing he was missing out on getting to play dodgeball was almost as bad as being sick. A chance to nail Kyle in the face and I was stuck in the john like a loser, he thought bitterly. Story of my life.

    The teenager shook his head again, quickly regretting the action as the world tilted on its axis, his vision blurring at the edges. His legs felt like jelly, and he stumbled slightly as he made his way to the library door, his hand reaching out to steady himself on the doorframe, the wood cool against his clammy skin.

    Pushing it open with more force than necessary, Xander barreled through, his voice ringing out in the quiet space. "G-Man!" he yelled, his voice hoarse but demanding all the same, echoing off the high ceilings. "Mr. G, I''m a student in need! A very sick, very miserable student!"

    His Royal Tweedness rushed out from the library''s cage, urgent and confused, his glasses slightly askew on his face. The man had been cataloging, Xander figured, because he was carrying a clipboard and one of those little cards from the card catalog with him as he moved from place to place, his tweed jacket flapping behind him. "Xander, what are you-" The man froze, eyes wide behind his glasses as he spotted the boy leaning heavily on the stairs, his face pale and slick with sweat. "Xander, what''s wrong with you?"

    "I¡­" Xander stumbled forward, his legs giving out as he slumped into a seat at a study table, the hard wooden chair feeling like a blessing after the trek from the bathroom. "I really wish I knew, Giles," he managed to get out, his voice strained and thin.

    "I appreciate that you think so highly of me, but a medical degree is not one I possess," the man said, stepping forward with a clearly worried look on his face, his brow furrowed in concern. "The school has a nurse for a reason, Xander."

    Xander let out a grunting laugh, the sound more of a wheeze than anything else. "Y-yeah, I don''t think Ruthie''s gonna help with this one," he said, shaking his head and immediately regretting it as the room spun.

    Giles frowned, clearly confused, his head tilting slightly to the side. "What? Why do you say that?"

    The teenager laughed again, the sound bordering on hysterical. "J-just¡­ just a h-hunch," he managed to get out between chuckles, his shoulders shaking with a humor that he didn''t really feel. "I''ve just been like this all day, but I''ve been feeling kinda weird since I helped Lance yesterday."

    "Lance?"

    "Kind of a wimpy guy," Xander answered, barely able to keep his head up and straight as he leaned from side to side. "These mean kids were bullying him by the hyena cage at the zoo. Maybe some kind of airborne animal disease, you think?"

    "Well," the Watcher adjusted his glasses, crossing the room to stand in front of Xander, his eyes scanning the boy''s face for any clues as to his condition, "did you sleep last night? Perhaps this is simply a case of exhaustion."

    Xander laughed again, the sound coming out high-pitched and manic, grating on his own ears. "Sleep?"

    He shook his head, the motion making the world blur at the edges. Last night had been a sleepless haze, more tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling than any time spent in snoozeland. Warm milk hadn''t helped in the slightest and neither had cookies, although the latter had been more of a treat for him than anything else. Probably shoulda laid off the sugar, in hindsight.

    Really, the only thing that had seemed to ease his nausea was the bacon he had for breakfast and that thing was barely cooked, still glistening with grease. "No, no sleep," he confirmed, voice flat. "Sleep is for the weak, G-Man. And I am... I am anything but weak," he joked.

    The man frowned, rolling his eyes at what he viewed as Xander''s carelessness, exasperation clear by the droop of his shoulders. "Of all the ri¡ª"

    Then Willow and Buffy charged into the library, both clearly upset and looking varying degrees of panicked, footsteps loud in the quiet space. Their sudden entrance jolted Xander from his feverish daze, his head snapping up from the table. What now? he thought, his mind still foggy. Can''t a guy get some peace and quiet around here?

    Giles turned his head, his attention diverted by the sudden commotion. "Girls, wha¡ª"

    "Principal Flutie!" Willow shouted, interrupting the librarian for a second time, her voice high-pitched and frantic.

    "What about him?" Giles asked, the older man tilting his head slightly, his brow furrowed in confusion.

    "Dead!" Buffy answered, her voice flat and matter-of-fact, as if she couldn''t quite believe it herself. After a moment, the blonde shook her head, her expression grim. "I mean, he''s dead. Like, really dead."

    Eyes widened behind a pair of glasses as the librarian''s mouth fell open in raw shock. "My word, how?" He looked between the two girls, waiting for some kind of explanation.

    "Eaten!" Willow answered, looking frantic as her hands fluttered nervously at her sides. "Ate him up! Like he was a big ol'' principal-shaped cheeseburger!"

    "Not like vampire eaten, either," Buffy added, the blond letting out a slight shudder. "More of an animal attack."

    Willow looked green. "Left a real mess behind, too."

    "And also Herbert," Buffy added, rushing down the steps with Willow right behind her. "They found what was left of him in the office too."

    "Herbert?" Giles questioned again, looking thoroughly bewildered. "Is that a janitor... a student?"

    "The piglet," Willow responded as she sank into a chair, her hands still twisting in her lap. "The school''s new mascot," she continued as Giles continued looking confused. "Something ate the both of them! It was awful, Giles. Blood everywhere, and... and pieces..." She trailed off, looking even more green around the gills.

    "Someone," Buffy corrected, her jaw set in a hard line.

    "Someone?" the librarian asked again at Buffy''s odd correction, the man a font of queries at the moment.

    "Word in the school is. a pack of wild dogs somehow got into his office, but I''m leaning more towards someone," She shot Giles a careful look, the Slayer''s blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Or a pack of someones."

    Willow gasped, her own green eyes wide and terrified. "Kyle''s gang, you think?" She asked, her voice trembling slightly.

    Buffy nodded, face grim with the seriousness of an expert. "They''ve been acting weird since yesterday. After Xander got Lance out of the hyena exhibit, they didn''t even make it on the bus back to school and today¡­" She let herself trail off.

    "Hyenas, you say?" Giles blinked, the librarian seeming to realize something, his eyes widening behind his glasses. "Xander was just saying something about hy¡ª"

    The Watcher turned around, his words cutting off abruptly as he spotted the boy in question fast asleep, twitching fitfully as his head laid quietly on the table, a sheen of sweat on the young man''s brow.

    "Xander?"

 Hunter & Hunted III

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    The musty scent of old books permeated the library, a familiar and comforting smell to Willow. Hanging out in the library has had at least one positive effect on Buffy, she thought, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the gravity of the situation. It had taught her how to do research, when it needed to be done. Like now.

    Willow loved research, the thrill of diving into musty old tomes and unearthing ancient knowledge. But getting Buffy together with a book was sometimes a challenge, and other times was not even in the realm of possibility, the Slayer preferring action to academia.

    Buffy sat on the steps leading up to the stacks, a huge folio across her lap, her brow furrowed in concentration as she scanned the pages. Her blonde hair fell in a curtain around her face, obscuring her expression. Willow sat at a table, reading one of her own, the heavy leather-bound volume open before her. The dim light from the lamps cast an eerie glow over the pages, the words seeming to dance before her eyes.

    At any other time, she would have been enjoying this a great deal more, relishing the opportunity to lose herself in the world of words. But not right now...

    She raised her head as the dark-haired boy in front of her let out a slight groan, his face contorting in discomfort. Willow''s expression fell as she caught sight of Xander''s body laid out on the table directly across from her, a cold towel on his forehead, his skin pale and clammy. He looked so vulnerable, so unlike the lively, goofy Xander she knew and loved.

    His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, his eyes darting beneath closed lids. Willow''s heart clenched at the sight, worry gnawing at her insides. Come on, Xander, she thought, her fingers tightening around the edge of the book. You''ve got to pull through this.

    The door had been locked as school had been let out a long time ago, the three of them hoping Xander would awaken, that whatever strange sickness had taken hold of him would release its grip. Unfortunately, no such luck. He remained unconscious, trapped in whatever fever dream had claimed him.

    "Wow," Buffy said, her voice cutting through the silence and catching Willow''s attention for a moment. "Apparently Noah rejected hyenas from the Ark because he thought they were an evil, impure mixture of dogs and cats."

    "Hyenas aren''t well-liked," Willow agreed, nodding sagely. "They''ve got a pretty bad rap, historically speaking."

    "They do seem to be the shmoes of the animal kingdom," Buffy said, bringing the book down to show Willow a picture, a detailed etching of a snarling hyena, its teeth bared in a ferocious grin.

    Willow shuddered, the image a little too close to home given Xander''s current state. "Why couldn''t Xander be possessed by a puppy?" she asked, her voice wistful. "Or some ducks? Ducks are nice. They don''t hurt anyone."

    "That''s assuming ''possession'' is the right word," Buffy said, her tone skeptical as she closed the book with a thump.

    "Oh, I''d say it is," Giles offered, emerging from another part of the library, yet another book in his hands, his finger marking his place. His tweed jacket was slightly rumpled, his glasses askew on his nose. "The Masai of the Serengeti have spoken of animal possession for generations. I should have remembered that." He added, looking chagrined, as if he had failed some personal test of knowledge as a Watcher.

    "So how does it work?" Buffy asked, leaning forward, her elbows on her knees as she looked up at Giles expectantly.

    "Well," he explained, his voice taking on that familiar lecturing tone, "apparently there''s a sect of animal worshippers, known as Primals. They believe that humanity ¡ª consciousness, the soul ¡ª is a perversion, a dilution of spirit. To them, the animal state is holy. They''re able, through transpossession, to draw the spirit of certain animals into themselves."

    "And then they start acting like hyenas," Buffy said, her nose wrinkling in distaste.

    "Only the most predatory animals were of interest to Primals," Giles said, nodding. "So yes, that would fit."

    "How do you explain Xander then?" Willow asked, her voice tight with worry as she glanced back at her friend''s prone form. "He''s still unconscious, Giles, and he''s sweating so much. It''s like he''s burning up from the inside." She wrung her hands, the action a physical manifestation of her anxiety.

    As if on cue, Willow was interrupted by another groan from Xander, his body twitching on the table. The redhead was at his side in an instant, her hand hovering over his forehead,almost afraid to touch him. "Giles, there''s got to be something we can do," she said, her voice tight with worry. "We can''t just let him suffer like this."

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    The Watcher sighed, closing his book with a snap. "I''m afraid there''s not much we can do until we know more about the possession. These Primals, they''re a secretive bunch. Not much is known about their rituals or how to reverse them."

    "So we hit the books again," Buffy said, standing up and stretching, her joints popping. "There''s got to be something in one of these musty old things that can help Xander."

    The older Brit nodded his head almost absentmindedly. "Well¡­ we do know this is a case of transposition as Xander was with the other students who are displaying classic and expected traits," Giles began, flipping through the book in his hands as he paced back and forth, his footsteps echoing in the quiet library. "I just don''t know why Xander is reacting this way. It''s almost as if... as if something in him is fighting the possession¡­ which is a small mercy but also... confusing for many more reasons."

    "Why is it confusing?" Willow asked, face twisted up a little.

    The Watcher looked over at her, expression hard to read for a moment. Then he spoke, "Simply put, the essence of a beast is essentially impossible to resist by humans in a transpossession. An earthly one, at least. After all, humans are earthly beasts, as well. If a transpossesion goes badly, it''s generally rather... immediate," Giles finished, a slightly more sickly look on his face.

    "Giles, there''s gotta be something you know," Buffy asked, her voice urgent, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "You''ve been Watching for how long now? You''re telling me you guys have never had to exorcize someone?" Buffy, as usual, was looking for solutions while everyone else was still focused on the problem.

    Giles removed his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he sighed. "I''m afraid I still don''t have all the pieces," he replied, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Accounts of the Primals and their methods are a bit thin on the ground. There is some talk of a predatory act, but the exact ritual is ¡­" He shook his head, and picked up one of his massive books, the leather cover worn and cracked with age. He flipped to a certain page, his finger skimming down the text as he continued. "The ''Malleus Maleficarum'' deals with the particulars of demonic possession, which may apply."

    He put the book down on the table, flipping a few more pages, the sound of rustling paper filling the quiet library. "Yes, one should be able to transfer the spirits to another human ¡ª"

    "Oh, thanks, great," Buffy interrupted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Any volunteers? ''Cause I''ve already got my hands full with one possessed friend, don''t really need another."

    "Oh," Giles said, his voice small as he realized the implication of his words. "Good point."

    Buffy went on, her mind racing. "What we need to do is put the hyena back in the hyena. Reverse the whole transpossession thing, right?"

    "But, until we know more ¡ª" Giles began, his tone cautious.

    Buffy was onto something, an idea, and Willow got a little thrill from watching her chase it down, like a dog on a scent trail. "Betcha that zookeeper can help us," the Slayer said, her eyes lighting up with realization. "Maybe he didn''t quarantine those hyenas ''cause they were sick."

    Giles seemed to catch on, his expression shifting from confusion to understanding. "We should talk to him," he agreed, already moving towards the door.

    Propelled by her own enthusiasm, Buffy started for the door as well, then stopped again, her hand on the handle. "Oh, wait," she said, turning back to look at Willow. "Somebody''s gotta watch Xander. We can''t just leave him here all alone, not in his condition."

    Willow stood, her jaw set with determination. "I will," she said, her voice firm despite the worry in her eyes.

    "Are you sure?" Buffy asked, concern etched on her features. "If he wakes up ¡ª"

    "I''ll be alright. Go." Willow''s voice was steady.

    "Come on," Buffy said to Giles, jerking her head towards the door. They left, the sound of their footsteps fading as they hurried down the hall, leaving Willow alone again in the dark library.

    Except for Xander, of course, still out cold on the table, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. Willow sighed, settling herself into a chair beside him. "I know you''re gonna be alright, Xander."

 Hunter & Hunted IV

    <div>

    <div>

    Hunter & Hunted IV

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    Xander''s eyes snapped open to a landscape that defied all logic, a twisted kaleidoscope of familiar and foreign, comforting and terrifying. One moment he was in the dingy, familiar surroundings of Sunnydale High''s library, the musty scent of old books and the soft glow of lamplight enveloping him like a warm blanket. The next, he found himself lying on a patch of earth that seemed borrowed from an African plain, the tall grass tickling his skin and the distant howls of unseen beasts echoing in his ears.

    The sky above was split in two¡ªa dark, unnaturally purplish fog dominated one half, swirling and pulsating like a living thing, under a massive, alien moon that pulsated with an eerie glow, casting an otherworldly sheen over the landscape. The other half was a more typical night sky, star-studded but with a darkness that felt thick and oppressive.

    "What the hell is happening?" Xander whispered, his heart pounding as he sat up, his voice sounding small and distant to his own ears, as if he were speaking from the bottom of a well. The grass around him was tall and wild, waving gently in a non-existent breeze, encroaching upon the small patches of suburban pavement that he could see morphing before his eyes, shifting and twisting like a living thing.

    Lamp posts twisted and elongated into wild trees, their metal frames groaning and creaking as they stretched towards the sky, then snapped back to their original forms, the transformation oscillating with each blink of his eyes, each breath he took. As he stood, the ground beneath his feet felt unstable, as if the earth itself couldn''t decide whether it was a well-trodden path or a wild, untamed plain, the concrete cracking and heaving under his weight.

    Xander stumbled forward, each step uncertain in the shifting terrain, his balance thrown off by the constant changes. The familiar streets of Sunnydale seemed to fight back against the encroaching wilderness, creating a surreal battlefield that disoriented him further, buildings melting and reforming like wax under a flame.

    "This is seriously whacked," Xander muttered, his voice trembling slightly as he took in the bizarre surroundings. "I''ve gotta be dreaming. Or hallucinating. Or both." He pinched himself hard on the arm, wincing at the pain. "Okay, not dreaming. Unless it''s one of those dreams where you can feel pain. Which would really suck."

    He felt exposed and vulnerable, stripped of a large chunk of the strength he had grown used to, yet strangely, the sickness that had knocked him on his ass seemed to have vanished, replaced by a sense of disconnect, as if he were floating above his own body. Instead, a different type of weakness gripped him, one that made his limbs feel heavy and his head light, as if he were moving through water, each step an effort.

    "Did someone drug me?" He couldn''t be sure, his words slurring slightly as he spoke, his tongue feeling thick and clumsy in his mouth. He turned in a slow circle, taking in the bizarre, dual-natured environment, his eyes wide and unblinking. The sense of being watched was palpable, a prickling on the back of his neck that made him shiver despite the absence of cold, as if unseen eyes were boring into his soul.

    The streets were utterly deserted, yet the feeling of eyes on him persisted, intensifying with each step he took, each ragged breath that tore from his lungs. He walked for what felt like hours but could have been minutes or possibly just seconds. Shadows seemed to flicker at the edge of his vision, darting away whenever he tried to focus on them, taunting him with their elusiveness.

    "Hello?" Xander called out, his voice echoing strangely in the empty streets. "Anyone there? Buffy? Willow? Giles?" No response came, only the distant howling of what sounded like hyenas, the sound sending a shiver down his spine. "Of course not. That would be too easy."

    He continued to wander, each step feeling more surreal than the last. The pavement beneath his feet began to crack and splinter, giving way to patches of grass and dirt that seemed to grow larger with each passing moment. Buildings warped and twisted, their facades melting like candlewax, windows shattering and reforming in patterns that made no sense.

    "This is not how I wanted to spend my Friday night," Xander grumbled, trying to inject some humor into the situation, if only to calm his own nerves. "I was thinking more along the lines of pizza and a movie, not a trip into the Twilight Zone."

    The air around him seemed to thicken, pressing in on him like a physical weight. Breathing became a chore, each inhale a struggle against the oppressive atmosphere. Xander''s heart raced, pounding against his ribcage like a drum, the sound echoing in his ears.

    "Okay, I''ve had enough of this," he declared, stopping in his tracks and looking around, his voice rising in frustration and a hint of fear. "Whoever or whatever is doing this, cut it out! I want to wake up now!"

    But no answer came, only the continued warping and shifting of the world around him, the landscape a nightmarish blend of the familiar and the alien. Xander ran a hand through his hair, his fingers trembling slightly as he tried to make sense of it all.

    "What kind of..." he let himself trail off, staring dumbfounded. "Yeesh, talk about trippy."

    Xander''s confusion deepened, a sense of unreality wrapping around him like a thick fog, clouding his thoughts and dulling his senses. This can''t be real. It can''t be. But... His thoughts tumbled over each other, each more frantic than the last, his mind struggling to make sense of the impossible landscape that surrounded him, of the growing sense of wrongness that pervaded every inch of this twisted dreamscape.

    A sharp noise cut through the silence¡ªa rustling to his left, like the sound of dry leaves being crushed underfoot. He turned, heart racing, to see a shadow dart between what looked like a hybrid of a streetlamp and a baobab tree, its form indistinct and ever-shifting, before darting down an alley that seemed to appear out of nowhere. His breath caught in his throat as he realized whatever was watching him wasn''t just a product of his imagination, but something tangible, something real, something hungry.

    "What the hell are you?!" Xander yelled at the creature, voice cracking as his brave facade fell away. "What do you want from me?!"

    As Xander rushed down the twisting alley, it unfurled like a never-ending serpent beneath the sickly moonlight that washed everything in a pale, eerie glow, the shadows seeming to dance and writhe with a life of their own. The ambient noise morphed into a scuttle that seemed to mock him with its proximity yet elusiveness, a symphony of skittering claws and rasping breaths that echoed from every direction and none at all.

    The air around him thickened, growing oppressively hot as though the very atmosphere tightened like a noose around his neck, the sweat that beaded on his skin evaporating almost instantly in the unnatural heat. Each step he took was muffled by the hard, spiky tall grass sprouting up through the cracks in the concrete, the blades seeming to reach out and grasp at his ankles like gnarled fingers.

    The alleyway itself was a labyrinth, walls leaning in close like the jaws of some great beast, ready to snap shut at any moment. They twisted and turned in ways that barely made sense at times, the path in front of him splitting and rejoining like the threads of some mad weaver''s loom, each fork in the road leading to a new nightmare.

    "Hey, come back!" Xander''s voice was ragged and rough, exhausted from running, the words tearing at his throat like shards of glass. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, a drum of war driving him forward, the rhythm seeming to sync with the pulsing of the alien moon above.

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    Actually...

    "Do I hear drums?" He shook his head as the laughter ahead echoed back to him, clear and manic, bouncing off the pulsating walls like a twisted game of telephone, each iteration more distorted than the last.

    What should have been meters felt like miles; corners he had passed seemed to reappear, disorienting him further, as if he were running in circles in some impossible Escher painting come to life. The heat was unrelenting, the air so thick he could almost see it swirling around him, a visible haze that clung to his skin and filled his lungs with every desperate breath, each inhale feeling like he was drowning on dry land.

    The laughter ahead of him grew louder, more unhinged, as if the source of the sound was as much a prisoner of this place as he was, trapped in some endless cycle of madness. "Who are you?!" Xander yelled into the void, his voice breaking against the oppressive air like a wave against a cliff, the question seeming to hang in the space between the walls, unanswered except for his own echoing voice and the sound of laughter that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

    Xander felt a scream building in his throat, a primal roar of frustration and terror that threatened to tear itself free from his very soul. "Who the fuck are you?!" he shouted, anger and fear bleeding into his tone like ink in water, his words seeming to warp and twist in the thick air. The alley responded with a brief silence that was soon filled by that same raspy, mocking laughter, louder now, closer, as if the unseen tormentor was right behind him, breathing down his neck with fetid breath. It felt close now, so close he might have reached out and touched it, yet it remained just a shadow, always a turn ahead, always out of sight, a ghost in this nightmare labyrinth.

    "What do you want from me?!" Xander screamed, his voice raw and desperate, tears streaming down his face as he stumbled forward, the ground beneath his feet seeming to shift.

    As the creature''s laughter echoed down the alleyway, transforming from a distant, disconcerting giggle to a maniacal cackle that filled the air with dread, Xander''s pulse quickened, his heart pounding against his ribcage. The heavy thud behind him spun him around, the world tilting on its axis as he moved, and he was instantly hit with a wave of nausea as the stench of rotting meat assaulted his senses, the putrid odor seeming to cling to the back of his throat like a physical thing. The figure laughed again, the sound crackling like dry firewood in a bonfire

    "This isn''t fucking funny!" Xander yelled, his voice cracking as the figure dove back into the shadows, the darkness swallowing it whole like a hungry beast. The laughter ceased momentarily, the silence that followed almost more unnerving than the sound itself, only to return in full force with a sharper, more sinister edge.

    "Oh, it''s not?" The voice rasped and snorted, a manic glee in every syllable that made Xander feel like the thing was holding back laughter, like it was listening to some cosmic joke that he wasn''t in on. "It feels like it to me. But then again, I''ve always had a twisted sense of humor."

    From the deeper darkness of the alley, the figure shuffled forward, the shadows seeming to cling to it like a second skin. It moved awkwardly, an awkward shuffle that screamed a lack of experience with bipedal movement, as if it were more accustomed to running on all fours. As it came into the dim light, Xander''s eyes adjusted and his breath hitched.

    The being before him was lean but wiry, its body covered in patchy dark fur that seemed to writhe under the dim light, as if it were alive and crawling with unseen insects. Patches of pale, almost sickly skin peeked out from under the fur, giving it an even more unsettling appearance, like a patchwork quilt of flesh and hair.

    The face was a horrific mimicry of humanity, elongated and warped, with a short, dark muzzle that twitched as it sniffed the air, as if it were trying to catch Xander''s scent. Its mouth was filled with sharp, yellow teeth that seemed too large for its mouth, gleaming wetly as it grinned at him, a predator''s smile that promised nothing but pain. Above this mouth, the eyes shone with a disturbing yellow-green glow, vertical pupils contracting into slits as they focused intently on Xander, seeming to bore into his very soul. Shaggy, dark brown hair fell in a tangled mess around its face, partially obscuring pointed, twitching ears that seemed to catch every sound.

    The remnants of what might once have been a colorful shirt and jeans clung to its frame in tatters, barely covering the sinewy muscle beneath, as if it had burst out of its clothes like a twisted version of the Hulk. Its bare feet, tipped with sharp, blackened claws, scraped the ground as it moved, leaving behind scratches in the concrete that seemed to smoke and sizzle.

    Behind it, a long, thick tail swayed, bushy and heavy, almost scraping the ground.

    "Holy shit, you''re like... like a werewolf and the Crypt Keeper had a baby," Xander stammered, his eyes wide as he took in the creature''s appearance. "And then that baby got hit with a serious case of the uglies."

    The creature let out another cackle, the sound grating on Xander''s nerves like nails on a chalkboard. "Aw, don''t be like that, Xan Man," it said, its voice a disturbing parody of Xander''s own. "Is that any way to greet your better half?"

    Xander shook his head, stumbling back a step as the creature advanced, its movements becoming more fluid and predatory with each step. "Better half? What the hell are you talking about, you reject from a horror movie bargain bin?"

    The creature''s grin widened, exposing more of those razor-sharp teeth. "I''m talking about the fact that I''m the real you, you idiot," it said, its voice dripping with contempt. "I''m the Xander that should be running the show, not some weak, pathetic monster from Hell."

    Xander''s heart was pounding in his chest, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps as he tried to make sense of the situation. The world around him seemed to pulse and warp, the edges of his vision blurring as if he were looking through a funhouse mirror. The creature''s words echoed in his head, bouncing around like a demented game of ping-pong.

    "No, no, that''s not... that''s not possible," he muttered, more to himself than to the creature. "I''m me. I''m Xander. You''re just some... some freaky dream thing."

    The creature let out a growl that sounded almost like a laugh. "Oh, you poor, deluded fool," it said, shaking its head in mock pity. "You really have no idea, do you? This isn''t a dream, Xanman. This is your reality now."

    It took another step forward, its claws scraping against the concrete with a sound that set Xander''s teeth on edge. "And in this reality, I''m the one in charge."

    Xander felt a surge of panic, his fight or flight instinct kicking into high gear. He looked around wildly, searching for an escape route, but the alley seemed to stretch on forever, the walls closing in on him like a vice.

    "Stay back," he warned, his voice shaking despite his best efforts to sound tough. "I don''t know what you are, but you''re not me. You''re not Xander."

    The creature threw back its head and laughed, the sound echoing off the walls of the alley like a demented symphony. "I just told you," the creature retorted, voice a disturbing blend of a growl and a laugh. "I''m Xander, and I''m taking my body back!"

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 Hunter & Hunted V

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    "First of all, I''m me!" Xander shot back, anger flaring. He clenched his fists and scowled, stance defensive as he took a step forward. Above his head, the sky churned unnaturally, the purple half seeming to swirl and spread into the black starry sky, while beneath his feet, the encroaching tall grass in the alley shrunk ever so slightly. "This is my body! And I''m not gonna let some weird were-wolf who stole my clothes tell me anything else!"

    "Not wolf... hyenaaaa," the creature corrected with a mocking tone, its muzzle twisting into a sinister grin.

    "Oh... so that''s what smells like shit," Xander blinked.

    The hyena-Xander let out a roar of laughter as it burst forward, the sound echoing through the twisted alleyway. The creature''s movements were a blur, a frenzied dance of claws and teeth as it bounded across the alley.

    Xander barely had time to react before the creature was upon him, its claws slashing through the air with a speed that defied belief. He stumbled back, his arms raised in a desperate attempt to defend himself, but the hyena was relentless. It pressed its attack, its jaws snapping at his face, its fetid breath hot against his skin.

    "Fuck!" The word tore from his throat, raw and harsh, as he was barely any more prepared for the second blow, dodging it with a hard lunge to the side that sent him careening into the wall, the brick scraping against his skin like sandpaper.

    He saw a shot as the cackling hyena monster overextended, its claws slicing through empty air. He seized the moment and charged at it, launching his whole body at the thing in a full-bore shoulder tackle.They crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs, rolling and tumbling across the cracked asphalt. They rolled around on the ground for a moment, the hyena cackling in Xander''s ear as they wrestled, its breath hot and fetid against his skin, before a pair of powerful legs snapped up and caught Xander in the chest, sending him flying back with a force that knocked the wind from his lungs.

    Barely catching himself, he managed to land on all fours, his fingers digging into the cracked asphalt, his head snapping up to see the hyena in the same position, its eyes glowing with a feral light. His eyes widened as the monster in front of him rushed forward, proving it was built for all fours as it tore across the ground in a blur, the alleyway around it seeming to warp and twist as it moved.

    It took him half a second to jump to his feet, his muscles screaming in protest. That half second was all it needed to rush him, a swipe of a clawed hand raking across his torso and tearing through cloth and flesh like tissue paper. A pained scream burst out of his lips, one that was cut short as the hyena spun on its heels and slammed a powerful fist into his chest, the impact reverberating through his entire body. The sound of ribs creaking was all that filled his ears for an instant, before he rocketed back again, his head and back slamming into the alley floor as he tumbled head over heels.

    Xander got to his feet, grunting and cradling his bleeding chest as the hyena laughed again, the sound like nails on a chalkboard to his ringing ears. "Is that all you got, Xander?" it taunted, its voice a guttural growl that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. "No wonder Buffy doesn''t want you. You''re weak. Pathetic. A joke."

    "Fuck this!" Xander snarled, anger and fear and pain all blending into a red haze that consumed his vision. He charged forward, his feet pounding against the ground, his fists clenched at his sides. The hyena charged too, its lips pulled back in a feral grin, its claws gleaming in the sickly light. They met in the middle, a clash of bodies and wills, the impact shuddering the air like an earthquake.

    Xander threw a punch, his fist connecting with the hyena''s jaw with a sickening crack, but the creature barely seemed to feel it, its head snapping back only to lunge forward again, its teeth snapping at Xander''s face. He jerked back, narrowly avoiding having his nose bitten off, and lashed out with a kick that caught the hyena in the stomach, doubling it over for a moment.

    But only for a moment.

    The creature straightened up, its eyes blazing with a fury that seemed almost human, and lunged at Xander again, its claws slashing at his face, his arms, his chest, a whirlwind of fury and savagery that left him reeling. He fought back desperately, his own blows landing with bone-crushing force, but the hyena just kept coming, laughing all the while.

    He rushed in again with a hard right, but the thing retaliated with a vicious swipe, its claws raking across Xander''s chest, shredding his shirt and leaving bloody furrows in their wake.

    Xander stumbled back, his hand pressed to his chest, blood seeping between his fingers. The world around him seemed to pulse and warp, the edges of his vision blurring, but he forced himself to focus.

    The hyena circled him, its movements predatory, its eyes gleaming with a malevolent light. It lunged forward, its jaws snapping, but Xander was ready this time. He sidestepped the attack, his foot lashing out in a desperate kick that caught the creature in the ribs.

    It grunted, more in annoyance than pain, and spun to face him again. "You can''t win, Xander," it sneered, its voice dripping with contempt. "I''m stronger than you. Faster. Better. I''m the real you."

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    "I''m literally a Devil and if you were me, you''d know that!" Xander yelled. He lunged forward with a powerful right hook aimed at the hyena-Xander''s head, the air around his fist shimmering with a faint red energy that seemed to flicker and fade as he moved, at odds with its usual dark potency. The creature was frighteningly quick, ducking under the blow with a grace that belied its grotesque form, its tail whipping aggressively as it maneuvered, the appendage leaving trails of sickly green light in its wake.

    The alley around them seemed to pulse and warp with each blow, the bricks of the walls shifting and melting like wax, the ground beneath their feet cracking and splintering like shattered glass. The sky above churned with unnatural colors, purple and black and a sickly green that matched the light emanating from the hyena''s form.

    "I''m strong!" Xander yelled out, his voice cracking with desperation, with the need to believe his own words. "I kill vampires every day! I''m not weak, I''m not pathetic, I''m not¡ª"

    The were-hyena bared its yellow teeth in a malevolent grin, its eyes glinting with malice, with a dark joy that sent shivers down Xander''s spine. "What? Needed to sell your soul to get strong? Makes sense for someone scared of being a weak sissy," it taunted, its voice a raspy echo of Xander''s own, like a distorted reflection in a funhouse mirror. It lunged forward, claws extended, aiming a swipe at Xander''s face, the air around its hands shimmering with that same sickly green light.

    Xander dodged sideways, feeling the wind from the claws barely miss his cheek. He countered with a swift uppercut, connecting with the creature''s jaw. He countered with a swift uppercut, connecting with the creature''s jaw, the impact reverberating up his arm, solid and satisfying, but the hyena-Xander barely seemed phased, its head snapping back only to lunge forward again, its eyes blazing with a feral intensity.

    "You''re nothing, just a little weakling pretending to be something more. Gonna end up a drunk like dear old dad, huh?" The hyena chuckled, jumping back and circling him, its movements fluid and predatory.

    Xander gritted his teeth, anger boiling inside him and that familiar energy buzzing under his skin like a familiar heat, but it felt sluggish, slow, almost turgid compared to its usual napalm-like intensity. He threw a series of rapid punches, each one slower than the last, each one blocked or dodged by the hyena with an ease that was as infuriating as it was terrifying. "Shut up!" he shouted, his voice raw and ragged, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. "You don''t know anything about me!"

    The were-hyena laughed, a sound that twisted in the air like a knife. "Hell, Buffy kinda likes you now and you can tell, you don''t even care, because you''re sick... the only thing that makes you feel safe is when the people you love hate you. Isn''t that pathetic?"

    Xander hesitated, the words striking closer to home than he liked, than he could ever admit, even to himself. His mind flashed to Buffy, to the way she smiled at him sometimes, the way she laughed at his jokes. It should have made him feel good, should have made him feel wanted, but instead it just left a hollow ache in his chest, a sense of unworthiness that he couldn''t shake.

    The creature used his momentary distraction to its advantage, darting in close, its breath hot and fetid against Xander''s face. "You can''t even admit Willow likes you because you only love women who hate you. You don''t feel you deserve love," it sneered, slashing with its claws, the tips tearing through Xander''s shirt, through his skin.

    Xander cried out in pain, the sound echoing off the warped walls of the alley. He staggered back, his foot catching on a crack in the pavement, sending him tumbling to the ground. The hyena was on him in an instant, pinning him down, its weight crushing the air from his lungs.

    "Pathetic."

    "SHUT!" He threw an uppercut into the monster''s jaw and leapt to his feet, raising his arm up a half-second later as he blocked another strike with his forearm, feeling the sting of sharp claws against his skin, the warmth of his own blood trickling down his arm. He pushed forward, driving the hyena-Xander back with the sheer force of his rage, of his desperation, of his need to prove it wrong, to prove himself wrong. "I''m not like you!" he screamed, his voice raw and ragged. "I''m not weak, I''m not pathetic, I''m not¡ª"

    They grappled, strength against strength, the world around them warping and twisting like a fever dream, until the hyena-Xander managed to break free and whip its tail across Xander''s face, throwing him off balance, sending him stumbling back, his feet slipping on the blood-slick ground. Seizing the moment, the creature kicked him in the chest, its foot connecting with his sternum with a sickening crack, sending him flying backwards with inhuman force.

    His body slammed into the side of a dumpster, the metal buckling and crumpling around him with the impact as it deformed around him, the sound of screeching metal filling his ears, the taste of blood filling his mouth. He gasped for breath, pain radiating through his body as he tried to regain his senses. The hyena-Xander stalked toward him, slow and menacing as its mouth remained open, cackling loud.

    "...f-fuck."

 Hunter & Hunted VI

    Hunter & Hunted VI

    <div>

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C

    The halls of Sunnydale High were empty, save for the echoing footsteps of a few custodial staff, their movements a distant rhythm in the otherwise silent building. He was waiting in the hallway outside the Sunnydale High library, eyes closed and simply relaxing, leaned up against a set of lockers, the cool metal a contrast to the warmth of his skin.

    The school was empty and quiet, as it was well after hours, the usual bustle of students and teachers replaced by an eerie stillness. With the chaos of the school''s piglet mascot being eaten, not to mention the principal, it made perfect sense that no one would stick around, even for the usual after-school nonsense.

    Samuel Lucius Ash the Sixth ¡ª the Sixth part was very important, actually ¡ª hummed quietly to himself, the antique headphones in his ears playing one of his favorite songs from the music player in his pockets, the melody a soothing balm to his troubled thoughts. An oldie but undoubtedly a goodie, it was the sort of song that he''d have constantly playing at the Rosen Queen if he wasn''t worried about being too on the nose, the lyrics a little too apt for the current situation.

    ...the 90s, huh, he mused to himself, a slight smile playing on his lips, his eyes still closed as he let the music wash over him. There wasn''t much to be said, but he did love this time period for what it was worth, the simplicity of it all, the potential for growth and change. I''m glad that most of these run behind, he thought, his smile almost fading as he recalled the first universe in this cluster he stepped into, that one apparently just experiencing the year 2019, for all the good and bad that entailed.

    Imagine having to relive 2020 over again, ugh. The thought alone was enough to make him shudder, the memories of that particular year still fresh in his mind, even if they technically hadn''t happened yet.

    Choosing this universe had been done on a whim, really.

    This universe, at least.

    Sam had known that he''d need to leave his original one for a while now.

    It was far too¡­ crowded.

    He needed room to grow and he''d rather not slaughter his way to the top.

    Besides, he''d be torn in half and disintegrated before he got halfway there.

    And more than that¡­ it would make him look bad.

    He remained unmoving as the library doors opened and a redhead girl quickly scurried out, a look on her face and a tightness to her gait that screamed "bathroom emergency", her footsteps hurried and uneven on the polished floor. He cracked an eye open, the girl not even noticing him as she ran right past him on a beeline to the bathroom, her mind clearly elsewhere. The mischievous part of him considered locking the bathroom door with a twist of his will, a simple flex of his power that would have been child''s play, but he pushed that down almost immediately, his lips twitching with barely restrained mirth. It was always funny how his more malicious Fiend impulses reared their head this close to a source of malefic energy so potent as the Hellmouth, making him act more like the teenage boy he actually was, hormones and all.

    Enough, he thought, pushing himself off the lockers with a fluid grace, his hands sliding into the pockets of his basketball shorts along with his headphones. Pranks for later.

    After all, he was here for a reason.

    The young man strode into the library, throwing both doors open as he walked through them, the action somehow both dramatic and casual.

    His gaze was focused directly in front of him, his piercing blue eyes intense and unwavering as he took in the scene before him.

    Inside, the library was deserted, the usual cacophony of student interactions replaced by a suffocating silence. The soft hum of the ventilation system and the distant sound of his own footsteps were the only noises that filled the space, echoing off the high ceilings and towering bookshelves.

    His target was exactly where he expected him to be, the boy''s presence a beacon in the otherwise empty room. Lying on a table at the far end of the library, Xander Harris appeared to be anything but comfortable, his body twitching and shuddering as if in the throes of a fever dream. Sweat drenched his brow, his hair plastered to his forehead in damp tendrils, his skin pale and clammy.

    "You look like hell, Xander," Sam murmured as he approached the table, his voice low and smooth. He knew the boy couldn''t hear him, lost as he was in whatever nightmare had claimed him, but he spoke anyway, more to hear the sound of his own voice than anything else.

    Reaching the table, Sam leaned forward slightly, his hands braced on the wooden surface, the grain rough under his fingers. He observed the invisible energy roiling unseen beneath Xander''s skin, frowning slightly at the sight of how chaotic it was, the patterns erratic and unpredictable, and not in the normal way.

    I''d hoped you would have gotten it out of your system last night, he mused to himself. I suppose the blame is on me for underestimating how the potency of a Hellmouth can alter magic. The damned thing had the uncanny ability to grant every piece of magic cast around it something of an infernal alignment, especially if it was cast with or had to do with strong emotion. Now, something like a normal human throwing around combat magic, fire balls and lightning, that wasn''t going to do much to a Devil than it normally would given their durability, but something like this¡­

    A Primal possession¡­ That''s where the fucking trick came in. Non-direct and strongly tinged with foreign predatory anima, insidious¡­

    Sweating like a pig in a sauna, the boy in front of him was running a temperature that would have cooked a normal person''s brain in their skull, the subtle heat radiating off him in waves. And it didn''t stop there, the signs of the possession were clear to anyone with eyes to see, at least eyes like his.

    "... Devil blood''s still young, isn''t it?" Samuel mused, one hand coming up to rub at his chin thoughtfully, his red dreadlocks swaying with the motion. "Weak enough to be reduced to human and under the light of day too. No wonder a Primal spirit is causing him this much trouble."

    Eating spirits or the essence of other beings was a good way to gain power.

    A great one, really.

    Especially if you were a Devil as weak as his current Pawn.

    The unfortunate thing here could be summed up in one simple phrase: "Never eat an energy field bigger than your head."

    And considering Xander barely had the combined magical essence of a dozen morties combined, well, a lot of things were bigger than his head.

    Simply put, it came with problems.

    Problems like this one¡­

    Granted, he knew Xander had not intended to tread on the Path of Gluttony. The guy just didn''t have it in him, honestly, and he knew that well enough. No, this was a forceful possession, one that he had to sweat out like a bad cold.

    As bad as this looked, there was a good chance that Xander would be fine; really, he had more than a coin flip''s chance of coming out of it alive, especially if he kept fighting. As weak and young as Xander was, only a month or so into his new life, a Fiend was not something to be ignored, their power and resilience far beyond that of a mere mortal.

    Even still, Samuel wasn''t one to risk an investment on a coin flip, especially one with such growth potential. Xander was a fighter, with enough rage and motivation to fight past the lethargy and natural ego that came with being a Devil, enough to get his hands dirty and grow fast quickly. Weak as he was, and he was weak, the guy was growing fast. I also don''t believe in leaving things up to chance, Samuel mused, his lips curling into a slight smirk.

    Ignoring that in a universe as attemptedly deterministic as this one, what was up to chance was often confusing and rarely as clear, especially in cases like this, the threads of fate and destiny tangled and knotted in ways that even he couldn''t always unravel. The red-headed devil looked upwards, glancing past the ceiling with a frown, his gaze seeming to pierce through the layers of wood and plaster and insulation, through the very fabric of reality itself. Wouldn''t put it past those bastards to remove one of my pieces from the board, he thought, his jaw clenching slightly, his eyes narrowing in a flash of anger that was gone as quickly as it had appeared on his face. They never did like it when someone else started playing their game.

    Glancing back down at his feverish lackey, the devil held up a single finger, the digit long and slender, the nail perfectly manicured and painted a deep, glossy black. A little pinprick of energy formed at the tip of his index, hovering just above it, the air around it shimmering and distorting like a heat haze. It was dark, so dark it was almost black and would have exuded no light at all, if it weren''t for the blood red energy surrounding it, flickering like sparks as it outlined the darkness, casting an eerie glow across Xander''s sweat-slicked face.

    "Here''s a little gift," Sam said, his voice low and smooth, a hint of amusement coloring his words as he lowered his finger to Xander''s chest, the energy pulsing and writhing like a living thing, eager to be unleashed. "From your King," he added, his smile widening. "You have my permission to advance."

    The energy sunk into the boy''s chest, disappearing beneath his skin like a drop of water into a sponge, and the young devil''s chest rose, his entire body tensing as he seized in place, his back arching off the table, his mouth opening in a silent scream. For a moment, he hung there, suspended in a rictus of agony, before dropping back down to the table, still unconscious, his breathing labored and shallow.

    "Give ''em Hell, Xan-Man," Sam murmured, his voice almost fond, his hand hovering over Xander''s forehead for a moment before he withdrew it, his fingers curling into a fist at his side. He turned on his heels, one hand reaching up to return his headphones to his ears as the other went to his pockets to press play on his red-and-black MP3 player.

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    The opening notes of the song filled his ears, the melody bringing a smile to his face.

    "Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name," he sang quietly as he walked through the library doors, the heavy wood swinging shut behind him with a soft thud. "But what''s puzzlin'' you is the nature of my game..."

    <div>

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C

    "You think you''re so strong?" the hyena-Xander hissed, its voice dripping with scorn as it advanced, claws ready, stalking forward with a predatory grace that sent shivers down Xander''s spine. "You''re not a man, you''re not even human."

    It cackled, the sound sharp and grating, like nails on a chalkboard, like the screech of metal on metal. "I''m gonna enjoy having my body back. And those girls..." A manic giggle spilled out of the hyena''s drooling maw, its tongue lolling obscenely as it leered at Xander with a hungry gaze. "I''m gonna give Willow what you never could, every single inch of it."

    His head and body hurt, aches and pains all over, the world spinning and tilting around him, but all of that vanished as those last few words hit his ears, the implication worse than a physical blow. Anger roared in his gut, a fire that burned hot as the sun. Red napalm roared in his veins as Xander reared to his feet, tearing his way free from the twisted metal of the dumpster, the jagged edges tearing at his skin, drawing blood that sizzled and smoked on contact with the air. "YOU STAY AWAY FROM HER!" he roared, fist slamming into the hyena''s hunched torso with a force that would have shattered concrete, that would have pulverized bone.

    The hyena-Xander recoiled, snarling, its eyes flashing with a feral light as it snapped its jaws inches from Xander''s face, the stench of its breath washing over him like a wave of decay. "Give me a fucking break, like you were gonna do the job?!" it taunted, its voice a guttural rasp.

    "ShutupshutupSHUTUP!" Xander interjected, the words spilling from his lips frantically, his mind a whirlwind of rage and fear and something else, something darker. He dodged a swipe of the creature''s claws, the razor-sharp talons passing so close he could feel the air displacement, and threw a hook that grazed the hyena''s ear, drawing a thin line of blood.

    He felt the burning power inside him spike with every punch, growing and roaring in his veins and muscles with every passing second, a fire that threatened to consume him, to burn him alive from the inside out. "You don''t talk about her like that!"

    The creature cackled, its laugh maddening in the echoing alley, bouncing off the walls. "But you can think about her that way?!" It feinted left, then struck hard with its tail, catching Xander off-guard and sending him stumbling back, his footing unsure on the blood-slick grass-covered concrete ground.

    Xander stumbled but managed to catch himself, breathing heavily, his chest heaving with the effort, lungs burning with every breath. "I''ll kill you!" he panted, dodging another lash of the tail and grabbing it, his fingers sinking into the flesh like knives, pulling the creature toward him with inhuman strength. "You fucking fake!"

    The hyena-Xander struggled against his grip, its eyes wild, its muscles straining as it tried to pull away, to escape the iron grasp of Xander''s fury. "But I''m real, Xander! Real as your fears of ending up alone, drunk, worthless¡ªjust like¡ª"

    "Shut up!" Xander cut him off, his voice a primal scream, a sound that tore at his throat like broken glass as he threw the creature over his shoulder, the motion fluid and effortless, as if the beast weighed nothing at all. It hit the ground with a thud, the impact shaking the alleyway, but swiftly rolled back to its feet, its eyes blazing with hate and hunger.

    "Touchy, aren''t we?" it taunted. Cackling, it lunged at Xander with claws outstretched, talons gleaming. "Can''t handle the tru-"

    Xander interrupted the monster with a roar, black and red energy surrounding his right arm as he pulled it back, the power inside him surging and pulsing like a living thing, like a separate entity that resided within his flesh. He shot forward, slamming into the hyena''s face with a hard straight jab, knocking the beast back with a force that would have sent a man''s head flying.

    The hyena whimpered from the blow, the sound pathetic and small, before snarling again, its green eyes glowing with a hatred that burned like acid.

    Xander spun to dodge another claw strike, slamming a back fisted strike into the side of the hyena''s jaw, the creature''s head snapping to the side with a sickening crack, before following up with another hard jab, this one angled low into its chest, the blow driving the air from its lungs in a whoosh of rancid breath. "Get out of my head!" he screamed, his voice raw and ragged as he countered with a knee to the creature''s abdomen, feeling it connect solidly.

    "You know the girls see you, Xander, like everybody else," the hyena-Xander gasped, still managing to twist and claw at Xander''s side, the talons tearing through his shirt, through his skin, drawing blood. "They see the loser¡ª"

    "SHUT UP!" Xander interrupted, grabbing the hyena-Xander by the shoulders and slamming it against the alley wall, the bricks cracking under the impact, the mortar crumbling to dust beneath his hands.

    The hyena-Xander laughed, even as it struggled to free itself, its body writhing and twisting in Xander''s grasp like a snake. "They already see the loser! What happens when they see the real you?"

    The devil growled, a sound that was more animal than human, more beast than man, as he headbutted the creature like a man possessed, slamming his forehead over and over into its own, the impacts sending shockwaves through his skull, through his entire body.

    The creature lunged in and bit down into his shoulder, its teeth sharp and digging in painfully, tearing at his flesh like knives. Xander didn''t let go, simply gritting his teeth against the pain.

    Black and red energy surrounded his arm as the other grabbed the monster''s shoulder and he thrust forward hard. A squelching, cracking sound filled the air, as flesh gave way, as bone shattered beneath his grip.

    The hyena slid back down Xander''s arm as the glow faded, the boy stepping back as he shook gore from his sleeve, red fluid splattering against the alley walls like paint. The beast dropped to his knees, gore and viscera spilling from its fresh hole, blood pouring out onto the ground in a thick, dark pool.

    "You''re nothing!" the creature wheezed, blood pouring from its mouth, from its nose, from its eyes. "You know that?"

    The grass beneath his feet disappeared, the oppressive heat shifting to a cool night as the purple alien sky overhead reigned supreme.

    Xander stared down at it, his eyes cold and hard.

    "At least I''m real."

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C

    Xander snapped awake, the cold surface of a table pressing against his cheek, the smooth wood a stark contrast to the fevered heat of his skin. He sat up abruptly, the room spinning slightly as he glanced around, trying to gather his bearings, his mind still fuzzy. Where am I? he thought, his brow furrowing in confusion as he took in the familiar shelves and stacks of books. The library? I''m awake!

    "Hello, Xander."

    The familiar voice made him turn, his head whipping around. Giles was sitting at a nearby table, looking as composed as ever behind his glasses, his hands folded neatly in front of him.

    "Giles?" Xander swung his legs over the side of the table, his movements hesitant as he stood on slightly shaky legs, balance still off from whatever had happened to him. "What... how..." He trailed off, mind racing with questions.

    "You''ve been unconscious for over twelve hours, Xander," the librarian informed him, his tone even, his expression unreadable behind the glint of his glasses.

    Xander''s eyes widened, and he slumped back against the table, his legs suddenly feeling like jelly. "Twelve... what? How?" His mind raced. That dream didn''t feel that long!

    "Possession," Giles stated simply, adjusting his glasses carefully, the action so familiar it was almost comforting. "By a hyena spirit. You recall the one from the zoo?" He nodded slowly, his face serious, his eyes boring into Xander''s with an intensity that made the teenager want to squirm. "Thankfully, Buffy and I managed to return the spirit to where it belonged."

    Possession? Xander shook his head, confused. Yeah, I guess that would make sense given the weird were-hyena in my head. "I..." He trailed off, unsure of what to say.

    "Willow has been by your side all day, making sure you are all right. Even assisting Buffy and I in research, attempting to help you," Giles continued.

    "Where are they? I gotta... I gotta thank them," Xander stammered, feeling a surge of gratitude for his friends.

    "They''re at home, Xander. Long asleep, most likely. It''s past midnight," Giles replied, glancing at his watch, the face glinting in the dim light of the library.

    Oh.

    Giles continued, his voice growing more intense, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses. "I''ve been reading even after I sent the girls home. Trying to understand your condition, to find out how to help you..." He trailed off, his gaze fixed on Xander''s face, as if searching for something.

    Xander forced a goofy smile, an attempt to lighten the mood. "I mean, I''m fine now, right?" He spread his arms wide, as if to show off his perfectly healthy body, his perfectly normal, non-possessed self.

    Giles stared at him in silence for a moment, his expression unreadable, eyes like ice behind his glasses. "Right," he finally said, though his tone suggested he was far from convinced. "I''ve spent hours researching centuries of animal possessions. Death is a potential side effect, painfully and rather gory ones, in fact. But simple illness?" Giles rose to his feet, steps measured and deliberate as he approached Xander. "Far from it."

    The older man walked closer, his steps measured, his gaze never leaving Xander, as if he were a puzzle to be solved, a riddle to be unraveled. "None of the research explains your situation. At all." His voice was low, almost a whisper now.

    "Which leaves me with only one question," he paused, standing now just a few feet from Xander, his presence almost overwhelming in the quiet of the library.

    "What exactly are you?"

 Growing Pains I

    Growing Pains I

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    The lair of the undead: a ruined chapel deep within the earth, stinking of decay, corruption, and death. The cavernous space dimly lit by the deceptive warmth of a hundred candles, flickering flames casting long, eerie shadows dancing upon the crumbling stone walls.

    In the center of the lair lay a grotesque pool of blood, thick and crimson.

    A little boy, his features hidden by shadow, dropped pebbles into the pool with playful innocence, his actions at odds with the macabre environs. Each stone disturbed the surface, sending ripples across the viscous fluid.

    Beside him, reclining in an ornately carved chair that might have been stolen from a king''s court, lounged a vampire wrapped in a leather suit. With a smile that was indulgent yet as inherently monstrous as his face, his outstretched hand was filled with stones for the boy''s innocent game.

    Yet, this was no ordinary boy.

    In life, his name had been Collin.

    In death, he was transformed.

    Now he was the Anointed One, a creature bound in eternal servitude to the vampire who lounged beside him: the Master, lord of the scions of Archaeus, those of the Clan Nosferat ¡ª the oldest, most prolific line of vampires that stalked the Earth. Once known by many other names, the Master had been a monster in life, and death had only furthered the depths of his depravity.

    Light footsteps echoed through the chamber as another of the undead approached the two. A pretty woman, she wore the guise of innocence well even as a vampire: a fetching face framed by blonde hair. Dressed in the uniform of a private girl''s school, she practically skipped through the chamber, even as her eyes remained cold and dead.

    She was called Darla, the Master''s favorite daughter, and she reveled in his favor, dreaming of the day he would rise from this subterranean squalor to reign over a world overrun with vampires, demons, and unspoken horrors. And, hopefully, there would be someone else to share the glorious moment with her.

    Someone with whom she had terrorized Europe.

    Someone who tore out the throats of the victims she had held down for him.

    His name was on her lips, always.

    As she drew closer to the Master and the Anointed One, the Master''s voice, strained yet eerily calm, broke the silence. "Zackery didn''t return from the hunt last night."

    Darla stopped short, a hiss escaping her lips. "The Slayer."

    A sigh left the Master''s permanently blood-stained lips. "Zackery was strong. Careful. A true hunter. And yet, the Slayer takes him as she has taken so many of my children." His voice hardened, a hint of steel beneath the weariness as he took a deep breath, lifting his chin ever so slightly. "It wears thin."

    He turned his gaze to the Anointed One. "Collin, what would you do about it?"

    With the simplicity of the eternally young yet unnaturally old, the Anointed One responded, his voice unnatural. "I''d annihilate her."

    The Master inhaled with pleasure, a predatory smile on his face. "Out of the mouths of babes¡­"

    Darla stepped forward, eager and ready. "Let me do it, Master. Let me kill her for you."

    The Master regarded her with an almost-stern look, his voice dropping lower to a singsong cadence. "You have a personal interest in this."

    She pouted like a child denied a sweet. "I never get to have any fun."

    Ignoring her sulk, the Master continued in his calm singsong voice, the tone he took when he was at his most dangerous. "I will send the Three."

    Darla''s eyes sparked with dark delight. "The Three." Her voice was tinged with anticipation.

    Pleasure.

    Triumph.

    It didn''t last long.

    "And yet there is another," the Master interjected, his tone slicing through her reverie like a knife.

    "Another," Darla repeated, blinking. "Another Slayer? Impossible."

    "No, not a Slayer," the Master corrected, his fingers steepling in contemplation, casting long, ominous shadows on his weathered face. "A boy, a companion of the Slayer. A Vampire Hunter, a surprisingly crafty one for this age to be so young and survive against so many kindred. I have received word that he has dispatched nearly three-score of our kin, most of them newly turned, but some of notable experience. Even Krellan fell to his hand."

    Darla''s surprise was evident, her eyes wide. Krellan had been a formidable force, even with his hand removed as penance for displeasing the Master. "But... how? Krellan''s killed so many would-be Hunters."

    The Master dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand. "The manner of his success is irrelevant. He obstructs our path, and for that, he must be eliminated. Isn''t that right, Collin?"

    "Exactly."

    The Master gave the vampire child a red-stained smile. "That''s my boy."

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    God, I love the Bronze. That wasn''t a statement that Xander was used to making, at least not before the last month or so. Something about having so much energy at night made the loud music and the cramped dance floor just so much more¡­ exciting.

    Although, it could be the hot girls, he thought with a smirk, Xander pumping his arms, promoting his night fever routine as one glanced his way. The pretty brown-haired girl who wasn''t really catching a tune so much as flowing with it smiled at him as he neared her with a growing grin on his own lips. Wait, I know her¡­ "Hey, Annie!"

    As soon as the words left his mouth, a rather large burly figure who looked more like a neanderthal in a letterman jacket proudly bearing the colors of Ronald McDonald turned around to shoot a glare at him. Xander''s eyes widened slightly as he recognized the mountain of a teenager that looked all of thirty years old. Oh right, she has a boyfriend. What was his name again? Vito? Vito!

    "Vito!" Xander greeted cheerfully, already dancing backwards to put some distance between himself and the glowering football player. "Just leaving!"

    Unfortunately, dancing back in another direction had him collide with someone else and he didn''t even need to turn around to tell who. The familiar scent of expensive perfume and the feeling of smooth, bare skin against his arm told him everything he needed to know.

    "Ouch!" Cordelia cried, her voice dripping with disdain. She was wearing some kind of low-cut lizard-girl dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, and her hair was down, dark and very straight. "Please keep your extreme oafishness off my two-hundred-dollar shoes."

    Shoot me, Xander thought, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he plastered on his best apologetic smile and said, "Hey, Cordy, sorry about that. I was just¡ª"

    "Getting off the floor before Annie Vega''s boyfriend squashes you like a bug?" Cordelia cut him off with practiced ease, one perfectly plucked eyebrow raised in a look that was more disdain than amusement.

    Xander grinned proudly, a hint of something darker flickering across his face for a moment before it was gone. "I think I could handle myself."

    "I''m sure," Cordelia drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

    Xander winked at the pretty popular girl, undeterred by her attitude. "Your confidence means the world to me."

    She flashed him her trademark bitchy evil-eye at full force. "And you have as much of it as I can offer."

    "And honestly, I don''t agree with what everyone said tonight," he added in an overly friendly tone, unable to resist needling her just a little more. Then he lobbed the classic grenade. "That outfit doesn''t make you look like a hooker at all."

    "What?" Cordelia''s eyes widened, her voice rising a full octave.

    "Yeah," Xander grinned, already backing away. "Highly paid escort, at least." Parting gift.

    He left the floor while he was maybe ahead, at the very least before Cordelia could try to claw his eyes out, and walked off the dance floor to catch up with his two main gals, Buffy and Willow, sitting by the bar.

    His eyes trailed over Buffy''s hot, black, crocheted top that showed off her toned arms and just a hint of cleavage, her blonde hair loose in those wispy bang-things he''d seen Willow attempt so many times before. The Rosenberg in question sat beside the former cheerleader looking cute as a button in a brown sweater and a nice skirt that showed off her legs. Despite their good looks, they both looked like they were having as much fun as corpses could ¡ª the not-undead kind, anyways.

    "Boy, that Cordelia''s a regular breath of vile air," Xander said as he approached, clicking his tongue as he slid onto the stool next to Willow. When they didn''t respond, he cocked his head and said, "What are you vixens up to?"

    Willow sighed, resting her chin on her hand. "Just sitting here watching our barren lives pass us by. Oh, look, a cockroach." She pointed at a spot on the floor, and Xander followed her gaze just in time to see her foot come down on the unfortunate insect with a crunch.

    The little bastard didn''t have a chance. Xander was about to congratulate her on her technique when he saw not a flicker of predatory satisfaction on her face. If anything, she looked even more morose than before. Buffy looked even worse, the girl outright wearing an upside down smile that made Xander''s heart clench.

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    "Whoa, stop this crazy whirligig of fun," he drawled. "I''m dizzy."

    Buffy activated with a sigh, her shoulders slumping as she pushed herself off the stool. "All right, now I''m infecting those near and dear to me. I''ll see you guys tomorrow." She prepared for liftoff, gathering her things as she gave them both a tired look.

    Willow''s eyes widened, and she reached out a hand to rest on Buffy''s arm. "Oh, don''t go," she pleaded, voice clearly disappointed.

    Xander piped up, "Yeah, it''s early! We could, um, dance." He broke into his standard disco routine, complete with finger guns and hip thrusts, doing his best to turn her frown upside down.

    "Rain check," Buffy said, pushing away from the table. She did give them a smile as she stepped away.

    A sad one, though.

    Xander couldn''t help but notice the weariness in her eyes, the slight droop of her shoulders.

    To both Slayerettes, she said, " ''Night."

    And like that¡­ she left.

    Willow sighed and showed Xander the carcass of her kill, attractively glued to her shoe with its cockroachy guts, and said, "Want a free drink?"

    Xander shot her a devilish grin, wide and mouthy. "I''d love one, Wills." Glancing to his left, he noticed a brown-haired girl staring forlornly at a muffin that was probably stale by now. "What about you, Marcie? Want a drink to wash down that hard pastry?"

    The girl blinked, as if surprised that Xander was talking to her. She looked up at him with wide, uncertain eyes, her mouth opening as if to respond.

    "Who are you talking to, Xander?"

    Xander raised an eyebrow, turning back to face his friend as he pointed back in Marcie''s direction. "Marcie? You know, the girl who sits behind us in English?"

    At Willow''s continued confused expression, he glanced back at where the girl had been sitting, only to see an empty seat¡­ the muffin gone, as well.

    What the hell? He could have sworn she was just there a second ago. The young devil sniffed the air, catching an odd smell like fading aerosol on the wind.

    "Huh¡­ weird," he muttered, shaking his head.

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    The next day, in what doubled as Slayage World Headquarters¡ªthe Sunnydale High School library¡ª Xander listened with raised eyebrows as Buffy told him, Willow and Giles what had happened the night before.

    "He spent the night? In your room? In your bed?" Xander asked, laughing so loud he couldn''t help but slap his knee. "Jesus, Buffy, when''s the wedding?"

    Buffy flushed as his chuckles failed to stop, her cheeks fully pink. "Not in my bed. By my bed."

    "That is so romantic," Willow said dreamily, resting her chin in her palms. No laughter from her. A little envy, maybe, but no laughter. Xander couldn''t really say the same as he didn''t bother keeping it in. "Wow. Did you, uh, I mean did he, uh¡ª"

    "Perfect gentleman," Buffy said proudly, cutting off Willow''s stammering with a firm nod.

    "One question," Xander interrupted, pausing his laughter for a moment as he held up a finger. "Can I be a bridesmaid or are you full up already?" He batted his eyelashes at her, clasping his hands together in a pleading gesture.

    Buffy shot him a pointed look, eyes narrowed. "Xander."

    "What?" the boy in the black denim shorts cackled again. "I''m sorry that it''s funny. I mean, obviously he''s playing you, but I gotta admit he''s running a great game. I just wonder what it is."

    "Um, No," Buffy shot back at him, an affronted look on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest. "What game is he playing by saving my life? Getting slashed in the ribs?"

    Xander shook his head, clicking his tongue like a disappointed teacher. "Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, you don''t get it, do you? Guys''ll do anything to impress a girl." He puffed out his chest as he leaned back in his chair. "I once drank an entire gallon of Gatorade without taking a breath."

    Willow nodded, backing him up. "It was pretty impressive." Then she made a little face, scrunching up her nose as the memory came back to her. "Although later there was an ick factor.¡­"

    Xander waved her off. "We, we, we don''t need to talk about that." The last thing he needed was for more people to know about the... aftermath of his little stunt. There are some things that a guy''s gotta keep to himself, y''know?

    Giles approached, carrying a huge black leather-bound book that looked like it belonged in some kind of medieval torture chamber. "Can we steer this riveting conversation back to the events that took place earlier in the evening?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You left the Bronze and were set upon by three unusually virile vampires ¡­"

    "Virile, he says," Xander gasped, clutching at imaginary pearls. "My word, in front of two young ladies."

    Purposefully ignoring Xander''s antics, Giles laid down the book and pointed to an engraving that looked like it belonged on some kind of heavy metal album cover. "Did they look like this?"

    Xander raised his head to look, eyes widening just a bit as he took in the image on the page. They do look like the bloodsucking amigos Buff described.

    Buffy nodded, leaning in closer to get a better look. "Yeah. What''s with the uniforms?" she asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. "I thought vampires were more into the whole ''creature of the night'' aesthetic, not... whatever this is."

    Giles looked like a man who''d just won a bet but wasn''t happy about the prize. That happened whenever he was right about some ravening monster intent upon either sucking Buffy''s liver out through her nose or causing the basic end of the world as it was known and loved. "It seems you encountered the Three¡ªwarrior vampires, very proud and strong."

    Willow blinked, impressed. "How is it you always know this stuff? You always know what''s going on. I never know what''s going on."

    Giles waved a hand at the piles of dusty books as he sipped from a coffee cup that looked like it had seen better days. "Well, you weren''t here from midnight to six researching it." Apparently, Buffy had called him right before he was about to hit the hay, and the poor guy had been up all night trying to figure out what was going on.

    Sheepishly Willow agreed, her cheeks turning pink. "No, I was sleeping."

    "I was also sleeping," Xander chimed in, lying as easily as he breathed. He had been hunting vampires as he usually did, staying clear of the Buffster''s usual hunting spots while doing so.

    Giles turned to Buffy, expression serious. "Obviously, you''re hurting the Master. He wouldn''t send the Three for just anyone." He thought for a moment, cleaning his glasses with the edge of his tweed jacket. "We must step up our training with weapons."

    Xander added, "Buffy, you''d better stay at Willow''s place until these samurai guys are history."

    Buffy shot him a look like he wasn''t quite sure she''d heard him right. "What?"

    "This Angel guy''s hiding something, obviously," he continued, scratching his chin. "I just don''t want you to be in arms reach when he springs his trap."

    Giles shook his head, the man putting his glasses back on with a sigh. "No, Xander, Angel and Buffy are not in immediate jeopardy." He clasped his hands together on top of the book, looking for all the world like a professor about to deliver a lecture. "Eventually the Master will send someone else, but in the meantime, the Three, having failed, will offer up their own lives as penance."

    Xander threw his hands up in defeat, looking mock-offended. "Alright, nobody listens to me. I see how it is."

    Buffy tilted her head to look at him carefully, Xander glancing back in confusion for a moment before shooting the blonde a grin. "Something on my face?"

    "No, I just¡­" Buffy trailed off, the blonde biting her lip.

    "Just what?" Willow asked.

    "Nothing, I just¡­" Buffy threw her hands up in a manner more dramatically than Xander had and sighed again. "It would make more sense if you were jealous or something, but you''re just ¡­ just not."

    "Me?" Xander blinked, index jabbing at his red shirt. "Jealous? I mean, I get it, but we''re clearly not each other''s type."

    "Excuse me?" Buffy rose to her feet, all five feet of her glaring at the seated Xander, her hands on her hips.

    "Let''s be real, you, like most teenage girls with a pulse, clearly like ''em tall, dark, and broody," Xander winked. "I''m more tall, bright, and goofy. Right, Wills?"

    "I mean¡­" Willow tilted her head.

    Xander grinned at a pouting Buffy. "See?"

    The entire time he sat there, he did his best to pretend that Giles'' eyes weren''t constantly focused on him, the man staring above his glasses.

    The last time the man had directly spoken to him had been inside this library, a discussion that nearly broke the line of heat that separated a simple talk from an argument.

    One that ended when Xander simply threw up his hands in faked frustration and left the library. He knew the old librarian hadn''t let it go, but the man hadn''t brought it up with Buffy yet, so he clearly wasn''t sure.

    Still, he definitely suspected something.

    Look all you want, G-Man, Xander thought, smiling at Willow and Buffy, like I said, I''m still normal.

 Growing Pains II

    Growing Pains II

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    24 Hours Later

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    "Angel''s a vampire?" Willow''s stunned reaction matched Buffy''s, her green eyes wide with disbelief. The redhead''s voice was hushed, even though they were sitting outside on the quad, surrounded by the bustling activity of the short period before school would start. The early morning sun cast long shadows across the concrete, the air still crisp with the promise of a new day.

    Xander clicked his tongue, letting out a slight sigh as he leaned back against the bench, his arms crossed over his chest. I''d been expecting something, but this...? He shook his head, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.

    The Slayer had met them outside the school just minutes ago, looking distraught and on the verge of tears. She''d barely been able to get the words out as she shared Angel''s terrible secret with the Scooby Gang.

    Buffy looked ill as she shook her head, her usually vibrant face pale and drawn. "I can''t believe this is happening," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "One minute we''re kissing, the next minute..." She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

    Xander watched with a frown as she turned to face Giles, her eyes pleading as she asked, "Can a vampire ever be a good person? Couldn''t it happen?"

    Though Giles could be the soul of tact, he had never actually lied to her or any of them. At least, not that Xander knew of.

    Still, it was hard for the teen to keep a straight face as the Brit replied, his voice gentle but firm. "A vampire isn''t a person at all. It may have the movements, the memories, even the personality of the person it took over. But it is a demon at the core. There''s no halfway."

    The boy in the green t-shirt and silver pendant chose not to say anything about that, his lips sealed despite his misgivings. His time with Rosen Queen had given him some insider information about demons, and vampires as well.

    Huh¡­ feels weird to know more than G-Man does. Is this why he''s so smug? Xander thought to himself, watching as Giles cleaned his glasses with a handkerchief. Many demons were far more human than Giles or his people probably knew or wanted to believe, and even vampires¡­

    Well, most vampires weren''t soulless. They just usually lacked the part of the soul that let them recognize humans as people, and also made you want to be nice. A social instinct or whatever. Among other things Xander couldn''t quite remember off the top of his head.

    It was traded off for the demonic essence that made them strong, fangy and all the various other magics that kept their corpse going. They weren''t even demon-possessed corpses, just demon-enhanced ones.

    Like the Hyena kids apparently, just not¡­ alive.

    More than that, there was diversity among the bloodsuckers too. The average vamp you''d ever run across on a late night around these parts probably deserved a good staking ninety-nine percent of the time, but there were plenty of other types out there that you had a good chance to party and play with, rather than treat you like prey. Like the Bella Clan.

    Those guys were more models and high-class hookers than proper bloodsuckers, though they did partake. Their whole deal was more the wimpy psychic-vampire thing, though they could get really strong with enough time and emotion-juice. Xander tilted his head to the side, thinking as he looked off into the distance, his eyes tracking a pair of students playing frisbee on the lawn. Hell, even the Bro''os Clan isn''t that bad. They usually stick to big game.

    Willow looked over at Buffy, her brow furrowed with concern. "So that''d be a no, huh?" she asked, her voice soft and tentative, as if she was afraid of the answer.

    Buffy shook her head again, faster this time, her blonde hair whipping around her face. "Well, then, what was he doing? Why was he ¡­ good to me? Was it all some part of the Master''s plan? It doesn''t make sense."

    Looking as weary as she probably felt, Buffy sat down with Willow on one of the benches in front of the school, shoulders slumped in defeat. Xander, silent up to now, sat down next to her, his skateboard balanced precariously on his lap. He could feel the rough grip tape under his fingertips as he absently fiddled with the edge of the board, trying to figure out what to say.

    Man, this is heavy, he thought. Buffy''s going through some serious stuff right now. I gotta say something¡­ but what? He glanced over at Willow, hoping for some sort of guidance, but the redhead seemed just as lost as he was, her eyes wide and uncertain.

    Taking a deep breath, Xander turned to face Buffy, his expression serious. "All right, you have a problem and it''s not a small one," he began, his voice low and steady. He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Let''s just take a breath and look at this calmly and objectively."

    Buffy half-nodded, barely looking at him, as she bit her lip and waited for his verdict.

    And Xander handed it to her: "Angel''s a vampire. You''re a Slayer. I think it''s obvious what you have to do." He hated saying it, hated the way Buffy flinched at his words, but it was the truth. No matter how much she might care for the guy, there was no getting around the fact that he was a vampire and vampires around Sunnydale tended to be the worst kind.

    Giles sighed, obviously agreeing with him as he crouched down slightly to look at Buffy. Behind him a small crowd of students rushed towards the entrance of Sunnydale High "It is the Slayer''s duty," he said gently, his voice almost apologetic.

    Xander continued, shrugging his shoulders as he tried to soften the blow of his words. "I know you have feelings for this guy, but it''s not like you''re in love with him, right?"

    Buffy said nothing, but Xander only had to see her face to notice the obvious. "You''re in love with the vampire?" he said loudly, eyes widening. "It''s been what? Two weeks? I was kidding about the marriage thing, Buff!" He couldn''t help the way his voice rose in pitch and volume both, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them.

    "What?!"

    Standing directly behind him, Cordelia Chase reacted with shock, perfectly plucked eyebrows shooting up to her hairline.

    Fuck! Xander pulled a face, mentally kicking himself for not keeping his voice down. "Not vampire," he said sternly to Buffy, trying to cover his tracks. "How can you love an umpire? Everyone hates them! Bad calls all around." He forced a laugh, hoping that Cordelia would buy his lame excuse.

    Cordelia''s nostrils flared like those of a bull ready to charge, glaring at Xander for a single moment. Slowly, however, her attention turned to another girl, her gaze focusing on the hapless victim like a heat-seeking missile. "Where did you get that dress?" she demanded.

    Buffy and the others watched as the cheerleader zeroed in on another girl crossing the quad in the exact same dress as Cordelia''s, a black number with a colorful pop-art design. Cordelia snapped, "This is a one-of-a-kind Todd Oldham. Do you know how much this dress cost?" Her voice was shrill, her eyes flashing with anger.

    The girl tried to scoot away, her eyes wide with fear, but Cordelia was having none of it. She grabbed the back of the girl''s dress and tried to read the label, hissing, "It''s a knockoff, isn''t it?

    The girl renewed her efforts to escape but the queen of the fashion police gave chase, her heels clicking against the pavement as she pursued her prey. "It''s a cheesy knockoff! This is what happens when you sign these free trade agreements," she snarled, her voice fading as the two disappeared into the building.

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    Flatly, Buffy glanced back over at her group and raised her eyebrows, "And we think we have problems."

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    Xander and Willow made their way towards Buffy''s house, the sun already ducking behind the familiar rows of suburban homes, casting long shadows on the sidewalk. The air was cool against Xander''s skin, but he could feel the warm energy in his chest rise, his demonic power throbbing in time with his heartbeat as the sun sank below the horizon.

    It made every night so much better, it was almost addictive. Like a shot of espresso straight to the veins but without the jitters or the inevitable crash. Just pure, unadulterated energy coursing through his body, making him feel like he could take on the world.

    Or at least a half dozen vamps, he thought with a grin, his fingers twitching at his sides as if itching for a fight.

    If that wasn''t enough distraction, Willow''s arm was looped through his, her body leaning slightly against him as they walked. The warmth of her skin seeped through his shirt, a constant reminder of her presence at his side. It was comforting, in a way, to have her there. His best friend, his anchor¡­

    My Willow, he thought fondly, glancing down at her red hair as it caught the fading light.

    "Can you believe it''s only been a couple of months since Buffy showed up?" Willow''s voice was tinged with a hint of wistfulness, green eyes wide as she looked up at him. Her face was open, honest, innocent even.

    It kinda made him feel like a giant tool for keeping this from her.

    "I know, right? We''re seeing our home town with new eyes. Scared eyes," Xander replied, his tone light as he tried to inject some humor into the situation, taking his mind off his own thoughts.

    He waggled his eyebrows jokingly, eliciting a soft giggle from Willow. "Very scared eyes."

    "Yeah, we''re learning a lot too..." Willow trailed off, her brow furrowing slightly as she seemed to mull something over in her mind. Xander could practically see the gears turning behind her eyes, that brilliant brain of hers always working overtime.

    "Mmmm yep," Xander chimed in, pushing down the sarcasm as much as he could. "Who doesn''t love learning? Especially when it involves monsters and things that go bump in the night."

    Especially about vampires, he added silently, his mind flashing back to his recent encounters with the undead. He really had learned a lot, that was no joke, and he didn''t just mean what he''d learned from the Rosen Queen and its massive library that, in hindsight, seemed way too big for the red-bricked building.

    For instance, hitting a vampire hard enough in the neck was enough to paralyze them for a while, anywhere from half an hour to several. Even a regular human could manage it with a bat if they had enough upper body strength or whatever.

    Honestly, you don''t even need to hit them hard enough to paralyze them, Xander mused, recalling the sensation of his fist connecting with undead flesh. Just hitting them in the throat is usually enough to incapacitate and stun them for a few seconds, long enough to drive a stake in, really.

    And you didn''t even need to be strong to get the stake through their heart. Bloodsuckers were crazy vulnerable to wood through their heart, it was like their Kryptonite. Vampires were scary but they were far from unstoppable.

    Willow glanced up at him, her eyes searching his face for something. Xander felt a flicker of unease, wondering if she could sense the change in him. "Xander, about Angel... I thought you''d care more... you know, because of Buffy."

    Xander let out a short laugh, though both of them could tell there was very little humor in his voice. "I do care, Willow. Two hundred forty and sixteen doesn''t exactly sit right with me." Some old bag of bones, that''s just gross, he thought to himself, suppressing a shudder at the mental image. "Granted, I don''t even know what the guy looks like, but an old bag of bones pressed up against a high school girl is just grody."

    Willow frowned slightly, scratching her nose with one hand, a nervous habit Xander recognized from years of friendship. "No, I mean... as competition."

    Xander snorted, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline as he stared at Willow in disbelief. For real, Wills?

    "Competition? For what, Buffy''s looo~oooove? Please, Wills, give me a little credit here. I''m not that desperate." He shook his head, a wry grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

    The redhead stared at him, her eyes boring into his with an intensity that made him want to squirm at least a little. "Don''t you like Buffy?"

    Xander scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "Of course I like Buffy! We all like her! What kinda question is that?"

    "You know what I mean, Xander¡­" Willow said meaningfully, her voice low and serious. She tightened her grip on his arm slightly, as if trying to anchor him in place, pulling herself closer to him.

    He sighed, looking ahead to avoid Willow''s inquisitive green eyes as they searched his face for answers. The sun had fully set now, the streetlights flickering to life and casting a soft glow on the pavement. After a moment, he decided to quit avoiding the question, his shoulders slumping slightly as he spoke. "I did. At first. I mean, mostly I just thought she was hot. Still do, not gonna lie¡­ but I don''t know, Wills... things have changed."

    "Changed?" Willow''s voice was soft, full of concern as she tilted her head to the side. A lock of red hair fell across her face and Xander fought the strong urge to reach out and tuck it behind her ear. "What changed?"

    Xander hesitated a little, his steps slowing as they neared Buffy''s house. The truth was, everything had changed since that fateful night in the alley. The night he''d become... something else. How do you tell your best friend that you''ve been turned into a Devil? That every night you feel like a different person almost. "You know, just... different. Since Jesse."

    Willow''s expression darkened at the mention of their lost friend. "Yeah... It''s been really hard without him. I keep expecting him to jump out from behind a corner and yell ''gotcha!'' or something," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

    As they reached the half-open back door of Buffy''s house, silence fell over them both, for different reasons. For Xander, he felt the weight of his secret pressing down on him, threatening to crush him almost the longer Willow looked at him. Jesse''s gone because of vampires... and now part of me is just like them, he thought bitterly, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

    At the bottom of the steps, Willow paused, turning to face him with a look of concern. "Xander, no matter what''s changed... you know you can talk to me, right? I''m here for you, always." She reached out, placing a hand on his chest, right above his heart.

    He managed a smile, one that didn''t quite reach his eyes as he tried to push down the lump in his throat. "Thanks, Wills. It means a lot." I don''t know how to tell you I''m a monster though, he added silently, his heart twisting painfully in his chest. I definitely don''t know how to do it with Giles breathing down my neck.

    Willow nodded, giving his arm a gentle squeeze as she smiled up at him, her face open and trusting. "Anyt-oh my god, Buffy!" Her eyes widened in horror, her mouth falling open.

    Xander''s gaze snapped up to see Mrs. Summers'' body lying on the ground, her blonde hair fanned out around her head like a halo. Buffy cradled her mother''s limp form, tears streaming down her face as she pressed a shaking hand to the two small wounds on her neck, blood trailing down her fingers.

    He felt the heat in his chest spike violently as his hands clenched, tightened into deadly fists, his fingernails digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood. "Angel."

 Growing Pains III

    Growing Pains III

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    Xander''s gaze flicked to the left for a moment as Giles walked into the hospital room, the man''s attention focused on the half-conscious Mrs. Summers in bed and Buffy sitting protectively beside the older woman''s bed. The sterile scent of disinfectant and the steady beep of the heart monitor filled the air, irritating both his sensitive inhuman nose and ears. Great, ''cause my day wasn''t complete without a trip to the medical fun house, he thought sarcastically, wrinkling his nose at the sharp, clinical smell.

    He and Willow stood a bit away, both of them against the wall. As irritated as he was, Xander couldn''t help but feel out of place, like an intruder in a private moment. Hospitals always gave him the wiggins, with their too-bright lights and the constant sense of sickness and death hanging in the air.

    Willow was worried. It was obvious, the way her eyebrows were clenched and from how her hands fidgeted nervously at her sides, fingers twisting together like anxious snakes. He could practically feel the anxiety radiating off of her in waves, a tangible thing that made the air around her seem to vibrate with tension.

    He¡­ he felt angry.

    No, more than that. He was fucking pissed. Rage boiled in his gut, hot and heavy, threatening to spill over at any moment like a pot of molten lava. How dare that bastard do this? Buffy''s mom, of all people? I swear, if I get my hands on that undead son of a bitch, I''m gonna introduce him to a whole new world of pain, Xander seethed internally, his jaw clenching so hard he thought his teeth might crack.

    Buffy''s voice cut through his internal tirade, soft and hesitant, like she was afraid of the answer. "Do you remember anything, Mom?"

    Her mother''s voice was slurred, sedatives doing their best to ease the pain, the woman clearly at least a bit fuzzy. "Just... your friend came over. I was going to make a snack." She blinked slowly, her eyes unfocused and glassy.

    Buffy repeated the words, "My friend," the statement sounding bitter on her tongue, like she''d bitten into a lemon.

    Joyce remained slurred as she continued, her words running together like watercolors. "I guess I slipped and cut my neck on..." She paused, her brow furrowing in confusion, as if trying to grasp a thought that kept slipping away. "The doctor said it looked like a barbecue fork. We don''t have a barbecue fork..." She trailed off, her eyes drifting closed for a moment before snapping open again.

    She narrowed her eyes, looking closer at Giles as her gaze focused for a moment, like a camera lens adjusting. "Are you another doctor?"

    Buffy interjected quickly, her voice strained, the words coming out in a rush. "Mom, this is Mr. Giles."

    "The librarian from your school?" the poor woman said, her words coming out in a mumble, like she was talking through a mouthful of cotton. "What''s he¡ª?"

    Giles stepped forward, his hands clasped in front of him, the picture of British propriety. "I just came to pay my respects. To wish you a speedy recovery," he said smoothly, his voice calm and reassuring.

    She took that into her sedative-filled head, nodding slowly, like a bobblehead in slow motion. "Boy, the teachers really do care in this town."

    Buffy said, "Get some rest now," her voice gentle but firm. She gave her mother a kiss on the cheek, the gesture tender and full of love, before walking out of the room, both Xander and Willow following behind her like loyal soldiers.

    And the award for Best Supporting Friends goes to... Xander thought wryly as they trailed after Buffy, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like angry flies.

    In the corridor, Buffy leaned wearily against the wall, the fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows on her face, making her look older than her sixteen years. "She''s going to be okay. They gave her some iron. Her blood count was a little..."

    Xander could see her fighting for control, rage and guilt and worry and self-hate fighting each other inside her blonde little head like a cage match. Who the fuck decided sixteen year old girls need the weight of the world on their shoulders? he raged inside, his face still and unmoving, a mask of calm concealing the storm within. It wasn''t fair. None of this was fair. Buffy should be worrying about prom dresses and zits, not fighting fucking vampires and watching her mom get drained like a juice box.

    "A little low," the older man said, giving her time to collect herself. "It presents itself like a mild anemia. You''re lucky you got to her as soon as you did."

    She whipped her head toward him, her eyes flashing with anger. "Lucky? More like stupid," she said miserably, her voice thick with self-loathing.

    "Buff, it''s not your fault," Xander cut in, barely able to help himself, the words bursting out of him like a geyser. He couldn''t stand to see her tearing herself apart like this, not when the real blame lay with that undead asshole.

    "No?" Buffy looked at him with a hard, angry expression, her jaw clenched tight, the muscles in her neck standing out like cords. "I invited him into my home. And even after I knew who he was¡ªwhat he was¡ªI didn''t do anything about it because I had feelings for him. Because I cared about him."

    "If you care about somebody," Willow offered, with a quick glance at Xander, her eyes wide and earnest, "you care about them. You can''t change that by¡ª"

    "Killing them?" Buffy demanded, her voice sharp as a knife. "Maybe not. But it''s a start."

    There was a silence, heavy and oppressive, until Xander broke it, his eyes hard as he said, "We''ll keep an eye on your mom. Just¡­ be careful."

    The words felt inadequate, but he didn''t know what else to say. I''ll kill him myself if I have to, he thought fiercely, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

    "Be careful?" Buffy turned to look at him, frowning. "I''m gonna rip his head off."

    Xander didn''t flinch, staring at her with a blank face. "Vampires get stronger with age and experience and he''s got two hundred years of both."

    Buffy blinked at Xander''s words. "I-"

    "He''s clearly not a normal bloodsucker if he can play the long game like this," Xander continued, not backing down even as Willow''s hand came to rest on his arm. "Take his head, fine. Just don''t lose yours." Don''t you fucking dare die on me, Summers. Not now, not ever.

    The blonde was silent for a moment, before she finally nodded. "Okay."

    Turning to the Brit, she held her hand out, her voice steady. "Giles, library key."

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    Buffy stomped off with a determined set to her shoulders, leaving Xander, Giles, and Willow lingering in the hospital corridor.

    Xander gave Willow''s shoulder a reassuring pat just as Giles cleared his throat, drawing their attention with an air of seriousness that was all too familiar to Xander. Here we go again, he thought, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes.

    He lifted his gaze to meet the older man, suppressing the urge to frown as he could already tell what was coming. It was the same song and dance they''d been doing for a full week now, ever since the whole hyena possession thing. Giles just couldn''t seem to let it go, always giving him those suspicious looks when he thought Xander wasn''t paying attention.

    Giles'' eyes were on Willow first, his voice measured. "Willow?"

    Perking up, Willow glanced between both Giles and Xander, confusion flickering across her face as she could clearly feel the tension. "Yeah?"

    Giles''s voice softened slightly, taking on that ''I''m-an-adult-and-I-know-what''s-best'' tone that Xander hated so much. "Would you mind checking on Mrs. Summers? I need a moment with Xander, if that''s alright."

    "Oh, sure," Willow blinked, a flicker of curiosity crossing her face before she nodded. She gave Xander a quick, concerned look before adding, "I''ll go check on her," and walked away hesitantly, her footsteps echoing in the quiet corridor.

    Xander exhaled quietly, his thoughts laced with sarcasm. Way to be subtle, G-Man. No, really, great job. I''m sure Willow won''t suspect anything at all.

    Irritation bubbling up just below the surface, he turned to Giles and forced a smile, the expression feeling more like a grimace on his face. "What''s up, G? What''s the word?"

    Giles adjusted his glasses, his expression earnest as he failed to return the smile. "I''ve been worried about you since the incident with the Primal spirit. You exhibited quite severe symptoms, Xander."

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Laughing off the concern, Xander shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, well, as soon as the possession was kicked to the curb, I''ve been peachy. Right as rain, fit as a fiddle, all that jazz." He wiggled his fingers in a little jazz hands motion, hoping to lighten the mood.

    "But you see," Giles persisted, his tone earnest, "why one might be worried¡ª"

    "Worried, huh?" Cutting him off, Xander''s smile faded, replaced by a hard look in his eyes. "For or because?"

    "..." The Watcher blinked, clearly taken aback by the sudden shift in tone. "Pardon?"

    Xander didn''t bother smiling again, his expression serious as he met Giles'' gaze head-on. "Worried for me or because of me? There''s a difference, you know."

    There was a brief silence as Giles sighed deeply, clearly trying to navigate the conversation with care. He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, a gesture Xander had seen him do a hundred times before. "This isn''t an accusation, Xander. After last week, I realize I may have been... overly cautious. I''m merely trying to ensure there are no lingering effects, given the unusual nature of your symptoms. My concern is only for your well-being."

    Xander''s smirk faded into a more serious expression, his brow furrowing as he studied Giles'' face. "Really? ''Cause I''ve caught you giving me the side-eye more than once. Thought I was going crazy." Or maybe I am, he thought bitterly. Maybe this whole devil thing is just one big hallucination and I''m really locked up in some padded room somewhere.

    The teenager bit back a growl, staring daggers at the older man. "You''ve been suspicious about me since that night, like I''m some sort of time bomb, okay?" He shook his head. "I don''t like it, G-Man. Makes me feel like you don''t trust me. What''s your deal?"

    Giles exhaled slowly, his frustration clear in his tone. "It''s my responsibility to consider all possibilities. Such as whether or not the hyena might have¡­ merged with you possibly. I admit my original approach was harsh in its wording but I had to be sure you were yourself. It''s not personal. I was just concerned."

    Xander leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as he huffed out a short laugh. "Concerned about good ol'' Xander?" He let out a humorless laugh, staring down the Watcher with a look that was as bitter as he could make it. "And not Angel, like I said Buffy should be yesterday?"

    "I assure you, I''m quite concerned about Angel," Giles retorted, his voice firm.

    Xander scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Not yesterday you weren''t. Not when I brought it up."

    Giles sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Xander, you''re being ridiculous. We didn''t know this about Angel."

    Xander pushed himself off the wall, standing up straight as he glared at Giles, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "And you don''t know anything about me!"

    Giles blinked, clearly startled by Xander''s raised voice. "I¡ª"

    Xander cut him off again, his voice sharp. "Stick to what you think you know. Read your old books and help us kill the baddies." And stay out of my business, he added silently, his jaw clenched tight.

    "Um..."

    A nervous voice had both of them turning to see Willow standing awkwardly at the doorway to Mrs. Summers'' room. She bit her lip, clearly hesitant to interrupt the argument but clearly feeling like she had to. "Mrs. Summers just said something...important."

    Giles stepped toward her, his tone urgent. "What is it, Willow?"

    Willow glanced between Giles and Xander, her voice barely above a whisper. "Angel didn''t attack her."

    Xander frowned. What?

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C

    ?

    The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed and flickered as Xander, Willow, and Giles ran through the lobby of Sunnydale General Hospital, the three of them ignoring the weird looks from the patients and staff. As they dashed through the sliding doors, the cool evening air hit Xander like a slap, the sudden change in temperature making him feel energized.

    "I guess Angel wasn''t actually messing with Buffy, after all," he said, his voice a mix of surprise and reluctant acceptance. Honestly surprising.

    Willow, always the believer, gave him a pointed look, her green eyes narrowed. "I told you!" she exclaimed, a hint of exasperation in her tone.

    "Okay, okay, score one for team Angel," Xander conceded, raising his hands in defense. He could feel the warmth of his power thrumming under his skin, the energy itching to be released on some sick vampire bitch. Focus, Xan-man. You''ll rip her head off later.

    Giles, always one to focus on the practical, was already in the lead as they hurried out towards the parking lot. "My car is unfortunately out of commission, so we shall have to make our way on foot. We must hurry," he said, his voice urgent.

    "You really need to replace that old lemon alr¡ª" Xander''s jab cut off mid-sentence as he froze in place, his body tensing like a coiled spring. A scent hit him, something that made his nostrils flare and his fists clench instinctively. Grave dirt and old blood... great, just what they needed tonight.

    "Xander?" Willow''s voice was full of concern, her own steps halting as she noticed his sudden pause. She reached out a hand.

    Giles stopped too, turning to face him with a frown. "What is it?" he asked, his voice sharp with worry.

    Xander forced a smile, though it didn''t reach his eyes, the teenager carefully unclenching his fists. "You guys go on ahead, okay?" he said, trying to keep his voice light and casual.

    "What?" Giles''s confusion was evident, the Brit tilting his head to the side.

    "I''ve got a super soaker full of holy water at home. I''ll grab that and catch up," Xander said, the lie slipping out as smoothly as he''d gotten used to. That''s a good idea though. Note to self: water guns with holy water.

    "But what about¡ª" Willow started to protest, eyes wide with worry.

    Giles, always focused, grasped Willow''s hand and started to pull her away. "We don''t have time. He''ll meet us."

    "At the Bronze!" Xander called out after them, watching as they rounded the corner, disappearing from sight. "We''ll meet up there!"

    "Okay!" Willow shouted back, her voice fading as they moved further away.

    He waited until their footsteps faded away, blending with the night''s usual sounds, before turning back to the empty parking lot. He dropped the facade, his expression hardening, eyes narrowing. "You idiots know I can see you, right?" he called out, his voice low and dangerous.

    The silence stretched, thick and tense, throughout the parking lot.

    Xander could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, his senses on high alert. Come on, you undead bastards. Show yourselves.

    Exasperated, Xander growled, frustration making the warm energy in his gut spike. "I know you walking corpses are dumb with all that formaldehyde in your brains, but the smell of grave dirt and old blood''s giving me a headache." He dropped into a loose boxing stance, more rugged than formal, one he''d been getting live practice with over the past couple of months. "We doing this or what?"

    Slowly, figures began to detach themselves from the shadows¡ªsome rising from behind cars, others stepping out from between the vehicles. They were a motley crew, each clad in variations of leather biker gear, some with gloves spiked at the knuckles. Oh, great. The undead Hell''s Angels. Just my luck.

    "Oh great, they sent the Village Vampires after me," Xander quipped, his eyes darting from one figure to the next, counting them silently. At least twelve in total, a few brandishing chains or wooden bats. Fan-freaking-tastic. This is gonna be a long night.

    "The Master sends his regards," one of them growled, stepping forward. He was thickly built, muscular and tall, with long blond hair tied back into a ponytail and a thick, grizzled beard. He gripped the chain in his hands tight as his face morphed into the classic "game face", all wrinkles, ridges and glowing yellow eyes.

    "Is that a euphemism?" Xander shot back, his hands curling into fists. "''Cus I gotta be honest, I''d rather not play at the YMCA."

    Their faces contorted into snarls as they all shifted their faces, each one more grotesque than the last.

    "Well, come on then!" Xander taunted, cracking his knuckles. "You gonna stand there all night or are we gonna dance?"

    As one, they charged him, roaring like beasts.

    "Come get some!" he roared back.

 Growing Pains IV

    Growing Pains IV

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    "RAAAAHHHH!" The first vampire lunged, a blur of movement that came at Xander with a spiked bat swinging wildly. He ducked low, feeling the whoosh of air as the bat missed his head by inches. He pivoted, slamming his fist into the vampire''s stomach with enough force to send the leech skidding back into a parked car, the metal crumpling under the impact.

    In his last two months as a devil, Xander had been required to undergo some mandatory education. Normally, he wasn''t much for learning. School? No thanks. Hard pass.

    If he understood something, he understood it. If he didn''t get it quickly, eh, he didn''t really feel like putting in that effort. Some people called him lazy, but he preferred the term selectively motivated, thank you very much.

    Because, honestly, with the right motivation, he could pick up on almost anything.

    Before he could catch his breath, another was on him. It swung a chain, the metal looping towards his neck. Xander grabbed the cold metal links mid-air and yanked it hard, pulling it and the surprised vamp towards him.

    Just die already. With an actual audible growl, he spun and slammed a high kick to the face of the vampire with the chain, the crunch of bone under his boot satisfying to hear.

    The nightlife of Sunnydale was that motivation. Nothing like the threat of being eaten to really light a fire under your butt. And seeing as he was a member of that nightlife, well¡­ you get it.

    One of the major things his education revolved around was vampires. Because of course it did.

    What they were, the different types and how to kill them. Stake through the heart, sunlight, fire, beheading... the classics.

    One of the major things about vampires is¡­ they grew.

    Not like getting older, or age, or whatever.

    ''I mean, technically¡­ they do,'' he acknowledged, but not like an actual living being.

    Anyway, even though they''re dead, the stuff that makes a vampire a vampire gets stronger the older it gets.

    The animus.

    Sam had been telling him a lot about vampires since he started at the Rosen Queen, from their habits, to the different vampire bloodlines, to how they work even. And he had a lot to say about the animus ¡ª the power, the instincts, the unlife force of a demon that makes vampires what they are.

    Inside a vampire''s heart, the original blood their sire fed them is still there, powering all that animus. It''s what kept them undead and not just dead-dead. And the longer they lived, the more that blood thickened, getting more powerful.

    A newborn vampire wasn''t all that strong or that fast, really. I mean, compared to a Slayer or yours truly.

    Not superhumanly. Just your average, everyday corpse strength. Nothing to write home about, right?

    Wrong.

    A bat swung through the air, connecting hard with Xander''s shoulder as he ducked a spiked fist from a long-haired blonde biker vamp. "F-!" He staggered, nearly losing his footing as another slammed into his head, the ground seeming to tilt beneath his feet.

    Crap, they''re starting to swarm, he thought, his vision blurring for a moment as he shook his head, trying to clear it. A biker took the chance and reared forward, growling at him.

    A knife came out of nowhere and he swiped wildly, the serrated large blade looking like it was made for ripping flesh and tearing through muscle more than anything else.

    Growling back, Xander leapt away and rushed behind a set of cars, ripping off a side mirror with one hand and the wiper blade of a second with the other hand, both in one swift motion. With a powerful throw, he flung the first like a frisbee, catching one of the vampires in the throat. The creature stumbled back, clutching at its neck, gurgling in surprise and pain.

    The teenager rushed forward, blurring as he forced himself to move as fast as he could manage. In a split second, he covered nine meters and shoved the wiper blade through the vamp''s chest. The bloodsucking biker stumbled back and fell to the ground, unable to move, but far from dusted. The teen grabbed the windshield wiper and twisted it roughly, almost stirring the thing in the vamp''s chest till¡­ poof.

    Xander let out a sigh of relief and quickly did the same to the vampire cradling his broken throat before he quickly jumped back to avoid another chain. Hell''s bells, I fuckin'' hate that about these things. Vampire durability was a bitch and a half to deal with if you didn''t keep wood handy. Either wreck the heart completely or get rid of the head¡­ somehow. Stupid corpse strength.

    This corpse strength meant that a newborn could use more strength of their once-human body without really worrying about getting tired or tearing muscles, making them generally capable of lifting about... what? Three hundred pounds and running at about thirty miles an hour. Give or take.

    Still, the major lesson with Sam was about learning the general vampire hierarchy. And his devil of a boss made sure Xander knew his stuff.

    Newborns were the ones fresh out of the grave, less than two years old. High off demon anima with new instincts making them really stupid in addition to overconfident, psychopathic, sadistic predators. A skilled human could pick one off, honestly. If they had a lot of training, Xander amended, ducking under a wild swing from a snarling vamp.

    Fledgelings were almost in the same boat as newborns, despite being a little older. Anywhere between two to twenty-four years old, they were somewhat cocky due to being young and slightly more powerful than newborns, but nowhere near as high off bloodlust or eager to rush in. Both were usually foot soldiers and often got dusted by trained vampire slayers, and not even The Slayer, either.

    Just regular guys with lots of training and a whole lot of guts.

    A heavy blow to the back of his head made his vision swim. "Son of a b¡ª!" He felt his knees buckle as something spear tackled him, sending him hard into the side of a car, the impact denting the metal and shattering the window beside his head. Xander gripped the side of the door, glass shattering under his grip and the metal squealing as he raised his head, blinking away the stars dancing in his vision.

    Death Knights ¡ª or neonates ¡ª were the guys you''d expect to see running their own little vampire gang. Anywhere between twenty-five to seventy-four years old, these guys were worth about twice any fledgling on average. And hitting almost twice as hard too, Xander thought with a wince, feeling the ache in his ribs where one of said vamps had gotten a lucky shot in.

    Around seventy-five to two hundred years old, a vampire officially became something called a Night Lord ¡ª I know, right? Could they be any more pretentious? ¡ª and they were comparable to about five newborns. This wasn''t a straight multiplier, either. It was more of a combination of their strength pretty much doubling at least, their speed growing by a bunch and their bodies getting a bit tougher. Still only half as strong as Buffy ¡ª most of the time ¡ª and barely as fast. That girl can go highway speed, honestly.

    Then there were the Blood Princes.

    And that''s when shit started to get really bad.

    Leeches on Angel''s level from what he could tell based only off the guy''s age. Anywhere between two hundred to five hundred years old, with all the growing strength and experience that came with that. They were considered the Slayer-killers, vampires that could fight Buffy as equals, with all their years of combat serving to match the supernatural skills of their natural enemy.

    This rank-up-ing kept happening every few hundred more years with about two more ranks with even worse titles that Xander didn''t really understand ¡ª but it wasn''t his job to understand vampires.

    His job was to handle them.

    Preferably with a stake through the heart or a good old-fashioned beheading, he thought with a grimace, eyeing the remaining vamps as they circled him.

    To make things worse, all this only really applied to one breed of vampires, or Clan or whatever the proper name was.

    The Nosferat.

    But considering they were the only brand of bloodsuckers barreling around the Hellmouth, that''s all Xander felt the need to worry about.

    He charged, closing the distance with a burst of speed that caught the nearest vampire off guard. His fist connected with a satisfying crunch against its jaw, sending the leech flying back into a car''s windshield.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.Almost immediately, another vampire swung a bat towards Xander''s head. Ducking under the swing, Xander grabbed the vampire''s arm, twisting it behind his back until he heard a snap. The vampire howled, but Xander shoved him into two others approaching from the side, sending them all tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

    Already breathing heavily, Xander scanned the parking lot, seeing the vampires he had yet to kill. Ten to one, he thought with a humorless chuckle, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

    Long story short, the hierarchy was simple ¡ª each rank of vamp got rarer and stronger the higher up you went. Just like Megaman Legends, Xander mused, backing up slowly as the remaining vamps advanced on him, their yellow eyes glinting with hunger and malice.

    Problem is, the only real way to know exactly what sort of vampire you were dealing with ¡ª hideous game-face aside ¡ª was to stake it fresh out of the grave. Past that, you were just guessing based on how hard they hit you.

    Speaking of hitting¡­ Xander thought, his attention snapping back to the present as one of the leather-clad vamps swung another chain at his head. He ducked, the links whistling past his ear as his eyes widened as he saw something else approach at high speed.

    "Son of a bitch, you socked me!" he yelped, more out of surprise than pain as another vamp''s fist connected with his jaw, the force of the blow snapping his head to the side. He stumbled back a step, shaking his head to clear it, his tongue probing the inside of his cheek where he''d bitten it. "... Hmm."

    Not too old, he worked his jaw with one hand, feeling out the hit. Not too young. "Wait, real quick, how old are you guys? Like fifty? ''Cus you feel like more Knights than Fledgeli-?"

    The statement died on his lips as a chain lashed out at him again. On instinct, Xander snatched it before it could hit him, gripping the thing tight as it wrapped around his arm, the links biting into his skin through his sleeve. He shot a smug smirk at the vampire who threw it.

    Said vampire and his friend both holding the chain grinned back, their fangs glinting in the darkness.

    Oh no.

    They tugged hard, their combined strength yanking Xander off his feet and sending him flying towards them like a fish on a hook.

    "Waitwaitwaitwai-"

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C

    ?

    Buffy let herself into the Bronze through a broken window. Crossbow in hand, she searched the balcony, then took the stairs one at a time, sweeping the area with her gaze. As she reached the main floor of the Bronze, she thought she saw the silhouette of a man some distance away. But when she spun around and took aim, there was no one there.

    No thing there.

    She continued her hunt, moving in the dark stillness. Stripped of lights, people, and noise, the Bronze was an eerie, otherworldly place.

    A battleground.

    She heard a crash of broken glass and aimed into the darkness again.

    "I know you''re there," she called out, sweeping the area with the bow. "And I know what you are."

    "Do you?" As she zeroed in, Angel spoke again, but this time his voice came from a different location. "I''m just an animal, right?"

    "You''re not an animal," Buffy said. "Animals I like."

    She quickly shifted her weapon. Then her eyes widened as he stepped forward, very close. He wore his vampire face.

    Angel growled. "Let''s get it done."

    He leaped at her, moving extremely fast. It took her a moment to adjust to his speed, her own senses ramping into high gear in the way she was familiar with, and by then he had hit the nearby pool table. She brought the crossbow up, sighted, and fired, but the bolt flew across the club and lodged in the far wall as Angel vaulted straight up into the balcony, vanishing into the shadows.

    Buffy reloaded the crossbow, crept around the pool table, and aimed up into the darkness. She searched for him, turning slowly. Her heart was thundering. Every sense was on full alert; every Slayer reflex was hair-trigger¡ª

    Angel dropped down behind her, slamming his feet against her neck and sending her flying onto the pool table. Bracing herself against it, she rammed her boot into him with a roundhouse kick, knocking him backward.

    While he was stunned, Buffy scrambled off the pool table and slid onto the floor, reaching for her crossbow. She rolled onto her back and raised up slightly, pointed the deadly weapon at Angel, and kept him in her sights.

    He rose, and faced her, presenting her with the perfect shot.

    Angel growled.

    Her finger tightened on the trigger.

    Then Angel''s appearance morphed from his vampire features into the handsome young man who had so attracted her when they had first met. Who had battled beside her against the Three.

    "Come on," he said in a hard voice. "Don''t go soft on me now."

    Buffy let the bolt fly. It missed him by a mile and sank into the post beside him.

    "A little wide," he observed.

    They looked at each other. "Why?" she asked quietly, getting to her feet, her voice shaking with anger. "Why didn''t you just attack me when you had the chance? Was it a joke? To make me feel for you and then¡­"

    She stopped herself for a split-second. "I''ve killed a lot of vampires. I''ve never hated one before."

    "Feels good, doesn''t it?" Angel asked quietly. Emotionally. "Feels simple."

    "I invited you into my home," Buffy went on, needing to express her hurt, feeling again her shock and despair. "And then you attacked my family."

    "Why not?" he asked almost offhandedly, but his expression was filled with pain. "I killed mine."

    He started closing in on her.

    "I killed their friends. And their friends'' children. For a hundred years I offered an ugly death to everyone I met. And I did it with a song in my heart."

    She detected the merest hint of self-loathing; she raised her chin slightly and asked, "What changed?"

    "Fed on a girl," he told her. "About your age. Beautiful." He looked off into the distance for a moment. "Dumb as a post. But a favorite among her clan."

    "Her clan?" Buffy repeated, unsure of his word choice.

    "Romani," Angel explained after a moment. "Gypsies. The elders conjured the perfect punishment for me." He waited for a beat. "They restored my soul."

    "What," she asked, regaining a bit of her fire, "they were all out of boils and blinding torment?"

    "When you become a vampire, the demon takes your body but it doesn''t get your soul. That''s gone. No conscience, no remorse. It''s an easy way to live."

    She remembered how he had asked her if it felt good to hate him.

    Simple.

    Angel stood in the weak light, surrounded by darkness, facing an armed Slayer who was bent on revenge. And yet he made no move to attack, nor to escape.

    Instead, he said, "You have no idea what it''s like to have done the things I''ve done and to care. I haven''t fed on a living human being since that day."

    "So you started with my mom?" she flung at him.

    "I didn''t bite her," he said very seriously.

    She was taken aback. "Then why didn''t you say something?"

    "I wanted to." For a moment Buffy tried to pretend that he was answering her question. But he was confessing that he had wanted to bite her mother. As if to underscore that thought, he said, "I can walk like a man but I''m not one." He paused. "I wanted to kill you tonight."

    She knew that. She had wanted to kill him, too. Buffy looked down, laid down her weapon, and walked to him, tilting her head slightly, offering her neck.

    "Go ahead," she said. With all her heart, Buffy prayed he would not attack her. With all her soul, she believed he wouldn''t, and yet, every ounce of her being protested the way she left herself defenseless. She was the Slayer, and he was a vampire.

    Angel remained silent, gazing at her with his haunted eyes. Something lifted for a brief instant as the two of them stared long and hard at each other.

    She nodded slightly. "Not as easy as it looks," she said.

    He almost smiled.

    "Sure it is," came a voice from the shadows.

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    Willow and Giles raced through the night, searching for Buffy.

    Willow said, "We''re near the Bronze. Xander''s not here. What now?"

    "While those super soakers would have come in handy, we''ll simply have to make do," Giles answered quickly, "We keep looking for her."

    "But what if¡­" Willow ventured, clearly worried. "What if we find her and she''s fighting Angel or some of his friends? What are we going to do about it?"

    Giles didn''t answer.

    Giles didn''t have an answer.

 Growing Pains V

    Growing Pains V

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    Xander let out a hard grunt as he was slammed into a concrete pillar, the impact driving the air from his lungs. A hard foot slammed into his back, driving his head into the concrete one more time. Great, bloodsuckers with strategy.

    Pushing off the pillar, Xander spun and squared his stance, hazel eyes darting from vamp to vamp. They moved with surprising teamwork, not in unison nor even synchronized but clearly able to stay out of each other''s way despite being a dozen strong. He could tell they were wary, some even scared, but they weren''t going to break unless things looked really bad. Yeah, he thought with a wince, blood running down his forehead, definitely Blood Knights.

    "Looks like you guys want me to get serious!" he yelled out, raising one fist in front of his face. His voice was hoarse, his breathing ragged, but Xander forced a grin on his face anyway. Gotta keep up appearances, right?

    He felt the energy in his gut spike with his scream, the heat responding to his emotions like it always did. He drew on it, imagining it surrounding his fist and just like that, red energy began to bubble around his hand, pale and flickering like semi-translucent oil suspended in the air.

    "I honestly didn''t feel like doing this," Xander half-bluffed, staring out at his attackers past the crackling energy. Shit.

    He wasn''t the best at using his Demonic Power, he knew that well enough and Sam only confirmed that suspicion. Xander''s Evil Piece was a Pawn and his brand of Devil was just meant for hitting stuff. Apparently, magic and ease of energy control was meant more for Queen Pieces and Bishop Pieces. He didn''t have the control to do shit like this efficiently, at least not right now, and on top of that, it really only worked best for him when he was pissed off.

    He was irritated, sure, but not pissed off yet. Curse my amazing self-control.

    Funny enough, being pissed off also didn''t lend itself well to control in general. Although, with the way this fight was going, he had a feeling that wouldn''t last long.

    A vampire rushed at him, spiked brass knuckles glinting as he roared, his fangs bared in a feral snarl. The leech covered half a dozen meters in a half second, moving with inhuman speed. Xander rushed forward to meet him, his own roar tearing from his throat.

    The vampire swung, his fist a blur of motion.

    Xander swung, pouring every ounce of his strength and his power into the blow.

    Fists met chests with a sickening crunch.

    Xander stumbled back, grunting in pain as he gained several new wounds to add to his growing list, the spikes tearing into his flesh. The vampire was thrown back into the air with a flare of red, a ragged hole in his chest where his heart used to be and a look of surprise on his monstrous face.

    Before the demon could even hit the ground, his body dusted, crumbling to ash in mid-air.

    The parking lot was dead silent for a few seconds, Xander and the other vampires staring in shock at the space where the vampire biker had been just moments before.

    What the¡ª Xander blinked, his mind racing to catch up with what had just happened. Okay, that was¡­ wow. He''d never done anything like that before, never even knew he could do anything like that. I feel like that a lot.

    Clenching his fist again, Xander raised it up once more, the red energy still crackling around it like a live wire. "Who wants some?" he called out, his voice stronger now, more confident. Please buy it. Please buy it. I''ve only got one of those left in the tank.

    Three hesitated. Xander could see it, the ones he had hurt before, sent flying with his inhuman strength. Come on, come on, he thought, his eyes locked on theirs. Just run.

    His smile grew as that turned to four, their resolve crumbling under his gaze.

    Then five.

    A second passed, and those five cowards ran for it, their forms blurring as they fled into the night.

    Leaving¡­ four.

    Shit.

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C

    ?

    Darla strolled toward Angel and Buffy with her hands clasped behind her back, as if she hadn''t a care in the world. She drawled, "Do you know what the saddest thing in the world is?"

    Buffy shrugged. "Bad hair on top of that outfit?"

    "To love someone who used to love you." She glared at Buffy.

    Buffy glanced in surprise at Angel. "You guys were ¡­ involved?"

    "For several generations." Darla clearly enjoyed telling Buffy all this.

    Buffy tried to regroup. She remembered Darla now.

    She was the one who had lured Xander''s friend Jesse to the cemetery on Buffy''s first night in Sunnydale. Darla had led Jesse to his death. "Well, when you''ve been around since Columbus, you''re bound to pile up a few exes. You are older than him, right?" She leaned forward, sneering at Darla. "Just between us girls, you''re looking a little worn around the eyes."

    Darla bared her fangs in an evil smile. "I made him," she said triumphantly, as if she knew this would be even harder for Buffy to hear. "And there was a time when we shared everything." She focused her full attention on Angel. "Wasn''t there, Angelus?"

    Angel said nothing.

    Darla''s smile faded. "You had a chance to come home. To rule with me in the Master''s court for a thousand years. But you threw that away because of her." She sneered in disbelief, "You love someone who hates us."

    Buffy tried to hide her surprise. She glanced at Angel, who looked worriedly back at her.

    "You''re sick," Darla told Angel. "And you''ll always be sick, and you''ll always remember what it was like to watch her die." She spoke in a singsong tone very like the Master''s.

    She turned to Buffy, saying, "You don''t think I came alone, do you?"

    Buffy replied, "I know I didn''t." With a flash of movement, she stomped on the crossbow, sending it flying up into her hands.

    Darla chuckled. "Scary," she admitted. From behind her back, she brought forward two enormous revolvers¡ª.357s, Buffy guessed; they hadn''t studied firearms much¡ªand pointed them directly at her.

    "Scarier," she said, and began firing with both hands.

    Buffy dove under the pool table. Angel took a bullet to the shoulder and slammed into the wall with the crossbow bolt stuck into it. With a grunt of pain, he slid to the floor.

    "Angel!" Buffy cried.

    "Oh, don''t worry," Darla said easily. "Bullets can''t kill vampires. They can hurt them like hell, but¡ª"

    She fired at Buffy again.

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    In the warehouse alley, Willow and Giles froze.

    "Did you just hear¡ª"

    Gunshots. They both heard them.

    They ran toward the Bronze.

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    Buffy crouched behind the pool table, listening to Darla rant as she closed in. "So many body parts, so few bullets. Let''s begin with the kneecaps. No fun dancing without them¡­"

    Bullets hailed in Buffy''s direction. Buffy summoned her courage, popped up, and got off a crossbow shot. It slammed into Darla''s chest, and Darla doubled forward. For a moment, Buffy thought she was home free. She spared a glance in Angel''s direction. He was pulling himself up by holding on to the crossbow bolt in the wall.

    Then Darla straightened back up. She said, "Close. But no heart."

    She pulled the bolt out of her chest and dropped it onto the floor.

    Both Willow and Giles entered the Bronze through the broken window on the second floor and made their way to the balcony. They all looked in horror at the destruction below.

    Giles whispered, "We need to distract her." He saw at the same time that Buffy did that Buffy was out of bolts. "Fast!"

    Willow shouted frantically, "Buffy, it wasn''t Angel who attacked your mom. It was Darla!"

    Darla whirled in their direction, firing at them. They ducked.

    On the main floor of the Bronze, Angel, breathing hard through the pain, pulled the crossbow bolt out of the wall.

    Darla jumped and landed with both feet on the pool table. Buffy rose and yanked the table toward her, knocking Darla off balance. Darla slammed onto her back as Buffy now pushed the table with all her might. Darla''s guns blazed as the table flew backward; she tracked Buffy''s course as Buffy ran to the Bronze''s coffee counter and threw herself over it. The glass case shattered above her.

    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    Giles spied a light board nearby. He scrambled over and started pounding and punching the buttons. Spot lights flashed on, and then a pulsating strobe.

    For a moment, the vampire named Darla was disoriented, and Giles let out a mental cheer.

    But then she advanced on Buffy again, her movements nightmarishly jerky in the strobe''s relentless flash. She fired at Buffy, who was huddled behind the bar. Upside-down glassware exploded like crystalline land mines as Buffy flinched away from the bullets.

    "Come on, Buffy," Darla laughed like a witch. "Take it like a woman."

    Darla fired again, grinning, delighted, as if victory was almost hers. And then, in the wild strobe light, Giles saw Angel behind her, a crossbow bolt in his hand. He rose without warning and plunged the arrow into Darla''s back.

    Giles shut off the strobe. All that remained was moonlight and silence.

    Darla staggered. The guns clattered to the floor. She turned.

    "Angel?" she murmured in disbelief.

    She grabbed onto him for a moment, but only a moment. Angel watched as she collapsed, then exploded into a scream and dust.

    His sire. His lover.

    She had made him, but someone had made her into a demon first. And no one had given her back her soul. Oh, how they had raged together in the old days. It was she who had given him the Gypsy girl, never dreaming it would mean the end of them, or that it would bring them to this night when he would destroy her forever.

    Buffy, the beautiful and courageous human who loved him, rose from behind the counter and looked at Angel with huge eyes. He didn''t know what to say to her. He wasn''t sure he could speak.

    With the death of Darla, he had crossed many lines.

    He had gone too far. He could never go back.

    Slowly, Angel turned and walked away, a sad smile on his face.

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    The last four remaining vamps were coming at him from all sides now, a whirlwind of leather and fangs and chains. He dodged and weaved, his enhanced speed giving him an edge, but there were still too many of them and he was getting real tired.

    Gotta thin the herd, Xander thought, his eyes darting around the parking lot, looking for anything he could use as a weapon. Come on, come on, there''s gotta be something...

    There! A broken piece of wood, probably a chunk of a pallet or something, lying next to a dumpster. Xander darted for it, his fingers closing around the rough edge just as a chain wrapped around his ankle, yanking him off balance. The metal links bit into his skin, the sudden superhuman jerk sending a bolt of pain shooting up his leg.

    He hit the ground hard, the air whooshing out of his lungs as he landed on his back, the asphalt scraping against his already battered body. The vamp with the chain grinned down at him, all fangs and yellow eyes, as it pulled the chain taut, dragging him towards it. Stupid fucking chains, Xander thought, his teeth gritting as he felt himself being pulled across the rough ground. What is this, a biker gang or a BDSM club?

    Xander gritted his teeth, his fingers tightening around the chunk of wood. Not today, fang-face.

    With a snarl of his own, he jackknifed up, the wood stabbing into the vamp''s chest, shattering in half as it sunk in. The vampire let out a surprised gurgle, its eyes going wide, before it exploded into dust, the chain falling slack as its body crumbled. One down, three to go, Xander thought, a grim smile tugging at his lips as he snatched up the length of chain from the ground as he leapt to his feet properly.

    But he didn''t even have a second to catch his breath as two more vamps were on him in an instant, their fists and chains swinging in a flurry of motion. Xander dodged and weaved, using his superior speed to avoid the worst of the blows, but he couldn''t evade them all. A fist caught him in the back, another in the jaw. The second sent him reeling, his head snapping back from the force of the blow.

    Focus, Harris! he scolded himself, spitting out a mouthful of blood, the coppery taste coating his tongue.

    With a flick of his wrist, he sent the chain in his hand lashing out, the metal links wrapping around a vampire''s ankle. Xander pulled, yanking the creature off balance and sending it crashing to the ground, its skull cracking against the asphalt with a sickening thud.

    As he tugged on it, a fist caught him in the ribs, the same vampire landing another in the jaw, his jaw rattling as he felt his lip split from the spiked brass knuckles. Fuck me running, Xander thought, his vision blurring for a moment as he shook his head, trying to clear it.

    "Is that all you got?" he taunted, voice hoarse as he wiped blood from his lip, his tongue probing the inside of his cheek where he''d bitten it. Keep them angry, keep them stupid. Angry means mistakes, and mistakes mean openings.

    From the corner of his eye, he saw the same vampire swinging at him, its fist aimed right at his head. Xander ducked, feeling the rush of air as the leech''s right hook went wild, sailing harmlessly over his head. He surged forward, his glowing red knife-hand driving through the creature''s unprotected chest, the bones of its ribs shattering under the force of the blow.

    The vampire''s eyes went wide as he twisted it, and then it exploded into a cloud of dust, the glowing ash of its undead body scattering on the night breeze. Last one in the tank, Xander thought, his breathing ragged as he felt the energy drain from his body, the red glow fading from his hand.

    Xander spun around as a hiss came from behind him, a scream spilling from his mouth as a heavy bat slammed into the back of his elbow. A sharp, splintering pain shot through him, and he knew without having to check that his arm was broken.

    Gritting his teeth, the teenager slammed his fist into the cackling vampire''s jaw with a sound like muffled ceramic shattering, the leech''s head snapping to the side from the force of the blow. The vamp staggered but didn''t go down, its jaw hanging loose, the bone clearly broken. He charged forward, his good arm driving a fist into the vampire''s face.

    It gurgled with rage, and lunged again, its movements frenzied and wild. Xander sidestepped, grabbing the vampire''s arm and using his momentum to hurl him over his shoulder, the creature''s body slamming into the ground with a heavy thud. Before it could move, his foot slammed down, its neck splitting in half from the force a full second before the vampire dusted, its body crumbling to ash under his boot.

    I could do this all night, Xander thought, but the strain was starting to show, his body screaming at him to stop, to rest, his injured arm hanging uselessly by his side. His movements were slower, heavier, as fatigue began to gnaw at his muscles, and even his good limbs felt like lead weights. Now where''s the last one? He scanned the parking lot, searching for any sign of movement, any hint of where the final vampire might be hiding.

    Xander turned just as a series of sharp pains exploded in his side, the sensation like white-hot daggers in his flesh. He let out a raw gasp, his eyes widening in shock as he looked down to see a large serrated knife buried deep in his ribs, the blade glinting in the harsh light of the parking lot lamps as blood seeped from the other open wounds it had left in his side. Oh, wow, huh¡­ that was accurate.

    "Gotcha," hissed the sneaky vampire darting out of Xander''s immediate reach, a malicious grin splitting his monstrous face as he slunk back, fangs gleaming in the darkness.

    With a roar, Xander launched himself at the grinning vamp, tackling it to the ground, his hand smashing into its face as they struggled. They rolled across the asphalt, Xander headbutting it until it stopped struggling. Straddling the leech from behind, he wrapped his good arm around the creature''s neck and twisted, the sickening crack of breaking bone echoing loud and powerfully. With a roar, he tugged harder and with a sound like tearing leather, the head came loose, the vampire''s body instantly crumbling to dust beneath him.

    He had a moment to see the leech''s terrified face before it too exploded all over him, a pile of dust and ash that smelled like the grave ¡ª like death and decay.

    Xander stumbled back, panting, the Bowie knife still jutting from his side, the serrated blade buried deep in his flesh. Blood seeped between his fingers as he pressed his good hand against the multiple penetrating wounds, his head spinning, his vision blurring at the edges.

    Not like this, he thought, his legs giving out beneath him as he fell back to the ground, the knife falling free, clattering to the asphalt beside him. Shit¡­ Willow¡­ Buffy¡­ Sam¡­

    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    In the dead of night, Xander''s unconscious body began to move slowly across the ash-covered parking lot towards the front of the hospital, his leg elevated as if being dragged.

 Down & Out I

    Beep.

    Beep.

    Beep.

    Beep.

    Be- "Ugghhhhhhh..."

    A long groan filled the air inside the room, for a moment drowning out the annoying beeping that hadn''t shut up since... well, Xander wasn''t sure how long. His eyes, feeling like they''d been glued shut, slowly creaked open. Instant regret. Sunlight stabbed into his eyeballs like tiny daggers, making him wince. "...Ow."

    Xander blinked rapidly, trying to get his peepers to play ball. The world was a blurry mess of white and beige, with splashes of color that didn''t make any sense yet.

    Beep.

    What the hell is tha- His gaze flicked up to his right, landing on a boxy thing that looked like it belonged in a bad sci-fi movie. Oh. Heart monitor. Neat. The constant beeping was less neat, drilling into his skull like a tiny, annoying jackhammer.

    As his vision cleared, Xander became aware of something on his face. It felt weird, like someone had slapped a Jell-O mold over his nose and mouth. His hand, feeling about as coordinated as a drunk octopus, fumbled up to his face and pulled off a- "Oh."

    A ventilation mask came away, dangling from his fingers like a dead fish. Xander stared at it, his brain still running on dial-up. "Oh." He let it fall to his chest, the plastic making a sad little clunk against the thin hospital gown that suddenly made him feel very, very naked.

    His gaze drifted down to his arm, which looked like it had been mummified. The white cast stood out against his skin, which was looking a bit more Casper than California surfer at the moment. Great. There goes my shot at the arm wrestling championship.

    All the wires stuck to his chest beneath the gown caught his attention next. He felt like a marionette, or maybe a really lame cyborg. The tight wrapping around his midsection suddenly made itself known, and Xander let out a long, drawn-out "Ooooow," as memories of last night came flooding back along with a tsunami of pain. Right. Vampires. Parking lot. Getting my ass handed to me on a silver platter. Fun times.

    The smell hit him next, making his nose scrunch up like he''d just taken a big whiff of gym socks. Disinfectant. Bleach. That uniquely hospital stench that made you feel sick even if you weren''t when you came in. Satan on a stick, I hate hospitals, he thought, trying not to gag. They always smell like someone had a clean-freak meltdown and decided to Lysol bomb the place.

    "There he is," a voice drawled from his right, cutting through Xander''s internal griping like a hot knife through butter.

    "Fuck me," Xander muttered, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. He didn''t need to look to know who it was. That voice haunted his dreams - and not in the good way or the very good way, more of the recurring nightmare of bleeding out in a dark alley with a hole in his chest kinda way. "Hi, bossman. What''s the haps?"

    A scoff answered him. Xander peeked one eye open, tilting his head to see Sam sprawled in a chair by his bedside. The devil looked like he''d raided the wardrobe of a rap video, all decked out in black and red.

    "You''re gonna ride that color scheme till the wheels fall off, aren''t you?" Xander asked, eyeing the matching football jersey, shorts, and high-tops.

    Sam grinned, fingers playing with the gold chains around his neck like some demonic Mr. T. "I didn''t see you complaining walking out of the Queen dressed to the nines."

    Xander let out another groan, the sound seeming to come from the depths of his soul. "It''s the only color scheme you sell."

    "No," Sam corrected, his grin never faltering, "it''s the only color scheme in the catalog I let Tana show you."

    "G-God, I hate you," Xander said, then winced as the first word left his mouth. Pain shot through his skull like he''d just headbutted a brick wall. Note to self: No more G-bombs.

    "That hurt you far more than it hurt me," Sam said, his smile wider than the Cheshire Cat''s. His eyes danced with amusement, like he was watching his favorite sitcom.

    "Don''t care, you''re a meanie," Xander declared, trying to sound tough but coming off more like a grumpy toddler. "If my favorite hand wasn''t in a cast right now, I''d be showing you my favorite finger."

    "Too easy," Sam sighed, shaking his head like a disappointed teacher. "Anyway, how''s the arm?"

    "You should see the other guys," Xander replied, a hint of pride creeping into his voice despite feeling like he''d gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson.

    "I did." Sam''s eyebrow quirked up, a move Xander was starting to think was patented. At Xander''s confused look, the devil continued, "The ash is all over the parking lot."

    "Yeah, I got seven of them," Xander said, a small smile tugging at his lips. The fight came back to him in flashes - fists flying, fangs gleaming, the satisfying poof as vamps turned to dust. It was like watching a highlight reel, but with way more bruises. "Scared five of them off."

    Sam leaned forward, his chains clinking softly. His eyes locked onto Xander''s, intense and unblinking. It was like being stared down by a shark in Nikes. "They made you work for it, though."

    It wasn''t a question.

    Sam got like this some times, red eyes staring into your soul and stating things like he knew them as simply as he knew how many fingers were on his perfectly-manicured hands.

    Even when it was a normal statement you knew just as well, he somehow managed to feel like you couldn''t deny it.

    Xander''s smile faded faster than his hopes of dating Cindy Crawford. His gaze dropped to the thin hospital blanket covering his legs. It was a sad, pale blue that screamed ''we bought these in bulk''. "Yeah, they kinda cleaned my clock," he admitted, feeling a twinge of shame. "I should have done better."

    A snort interrupted his pity party before it could really get rolling. Sam let out a quick laugh, the sound echoing weirdly in the small room. "Done better, he says," Sam mocked, shaking his head. "A little two-month-old Imp gets to dusting seven Death Knights, for a grand total of seventy vampires and you''re bummed about it."

    "W-It''s n-tha-No," Xander sputtered, his face turning redder than Willow''s hair. He felt like his brain was short-circuiting, trying to defend himself against... a compliment? "I mean, I should have been better th-"

    "Enough with the self-deprecation, X," Sam interrupted, clapping his hands together. The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet room, making Xander jump. His ribs protested, sending a sharp pain through his side. Ow. Note to self: No sudden movements. Or breathing. Or existing. "Vampire hunting isn''t even your job. When you said you wanted to be a hero, I didn''t know you meant for a hobby."

    Xander''s face grew even redder. He shifted uncomfortably, the paper-thin gown crinkling loudly. Sam''s gaze felt like it was burning right through him, seeing all his insecurities laid bare. Great, now I feel naked AND stupid.

    Sam shook his head, his dreads swaying like snakes. "Let''s be realistic; you had a twenty percent chance of making it out of that situation alive." He paused, his grin widening. "Honestly, the only reason you lasted against seven of those Nosferat knight-fucks is ''cause you keep fucking going out and hunting them."

    Xander winced at the colorful language, half-expecting a nurse to burst in and scold them. The hospital hallway remained quiet, though, just the distant beeping of machines and squeaking of rubber-soled shoes.

    Sam leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Honestly, how much vampire juice do you think you''ve sucked up with all this dusting?"

    "I..." Xander blinked, his mind going blank. It was like someone had just asked him to solve a calculus problem while juggling chainsaws. I hadn''t even thought about that. "I mean, first, please don''t say that again¡­" he pulled a face, trying to banish the mental image. "Second¡­ I noticed I''ve gotten stronger but I just thought that was the demon blood settling or whatever."

    Sam shook his head again, looking like a disappointed teacher. "No, Xan, that wouldn''t be that big of a jump. Besides, by now you''re pretty much settled." He gestured at Xander''s battered form. "On top of that, you are now twice the guy you were from when I brought you back from the brink. Do you know how many hundred-year-old Imps aren''t even where you are now?"

    Curiosity got the better of Xander. "How many?" he asked, leaning forward slightly despite the protest from his ribs.

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    "Well, not that many. A hundred years is a long time," Sam admitted, waving his hand dismissively. "But still, no random reincarnate jumps up as fast as you do. No special powers, just grit."

    The Devil smirked, something like pride glinting in his eyes. "It''s almost suicidal."

    Xander''s brow furrowed, a thought popping into his head like an unwelcome jack-in-the-box. His eyes darted to the door as a nurse walked past, her bright pink scrubs a stark contrast to the drab hospital walls. She didn''t even glance their way, too focused on the clipboard in her hands.

    He turned back to Sam, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Hey, do the..." Xander paused, glancing at the door again before continuing, "What do they know? Like, about me."

    Sam snorted, the sound quickly transforming into outright laughter. He wiped his eyes, shaking his head before giving Xander a flat "No." He leaned back in his chair, looking like the cat that ate the canary. "I''m sure some higher ups in the hospital know about the nightlife, but the rank and file don''t know a succubus from a Hooters girl."

    Xander''s mind immediately conjured up an image of a horned, red-skinned Hooters girl. He blinked hard, trying to banish the thought. Focus, Harris. Important devil stuff happening here. "So, what, they just think I got jumped by some random dudes?" he asked, gesturing at his various injuries.

    "Anyway," Sam continued, his tone casual as if discussing the weather, "your records officially state that you got dogpiled after running your mouth at some drunk bikers riding through town. You didn''t see any faces, unfortunately."

    Xander nodded, a wry grin tugging at his lips. It felt like his face was made of rubber, stretching in ways it shouldn''t. "Sounds like me," he said, his voice scratchy from disuse. The familiar taste of foot-in-mouth was as comforting as it was embarrassing.

    "Doesn''t it?" Sam agreed, his own grin mirroring Xander''s. The devil''s teeth gleamed unnaturally white in the harsh hospital lighting. "Anyway, the hospital called your house ¡ª your mom went out of town again, by the way ¡ª but your dad picked up and he was really stressed out and worried."

    Xander raised an eyebrow, surprise clear on his face. The heart monitor beeped a little faster, betraying his sudden spike of emotion. "...What?" He couldn''t remember the last time his dad had been worried about anything other than where his next beer was coming from.

    Sam continued, his expression turning serious. His eyes locked onto Xander''s, intense and unblinking. "About the cost of your hospital bill."

    Xander nodded, his surprise fading as quickly as it had come. The beeping slowed back to its regular rhythm. "Yeah, that sounds more like it." That fucking drunk bastard, he thought, his jaw clenching slightly. He tried to push down the familiar anger that always seemed to rise whenever his father was mentioned. It was like trying to stuff a wildfire back into a matchbox.

    "Fortunately," Sam said, his grin returning like the sun after a storm, "an amazingly magnanimous friend of yours covered said bill."

    Xander''s eyes widened, his eyebrows shooting up so fast they threatened to fly off his face. "Really?"

    "Yeah," Sam confirmed, his grin turning mischievous. He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a stage whisper. "Just know that your contract pay will be cut in half for a month."

    Xander shrugged, the movement sending a dull ache through his injured arm. It felt like someone had replaced his bones with rusty pipes. "That''s fair," he said, his tone resigned. I have like almost forty grand saved up after two months anyway. Nothing to whine about. The thought of that much money still made his head spin. It was more than his dad made in a year.

    "The Blood Princess that attacked Buffy''s mother is dead, by the way," Sam said, his tone casual, as if he were discussing the weather. He examined his nails, seemingly bored by the topic of vampire murder.

    "Good job, Buff," Xander said, nodding in approval. He could picture Buffy, all five-foot-nothing of her, taking down some vamp princess. It was a satisfying image.

    "Angel, actually," Sam corrected, his expression unreadable. His eyes flicked up from his nails, locking onto Xander''s. "She was his ex. He stabbed her in the heart."

    Xander clicked his tongue, his brow furrowing slightly. The image in his head shifted, replacing Buffy with the broody vampire. "Oh," he said, his tone thoughtful. "Man, hate to say it but this Angel guy seems kinda cool the more I hear about him. For a leech, you know." The words felt weird coming out of his mouth, like praising a mosquito for its table manners.

    Sam''s face broke out into a grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Of course," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He leaned back in his chair, looking like the cat that ate the canary and then convinced the owner it was the dog''s fault.

    Xander shifted uncomfortably, the thin hospital gown crinkling loudly. His gaze dropped to his lap as he mumbled, "Also, thanks... for... uh, getting me in here." The words felt like marbles in his mouth, clumsy and hard to get out.

    Sam blinked, confusion clear on his face. His head tilted to the side, reminding Xander of a curious puppy. If puppies were ancient, manipulative devil princes. "Oh... you think that was me?"

    Xander''s head snapped up so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. His eyes were wide enough to use as dinner plates. "It... it wasn''t?" The heart monitor betrayed him again, beeping faster as his pulse quickened.

    Samuel snorted, the sound full of mirth. It echoed weirdly in the small room, like the walls were laughing too. "No." He rose to his feet, shaking his head as he stretched, his joints popping like bubble wrap. "I was in the Rosen Queen, eating a slice of Veggie Lovers pizza around the time you were getting hogtied by the fetish bikers."

    Xander stared silently, blinking. His brain felt like it was running on a hamster wheel, desperately trying to process this information. "What''s your actual problem, man?" he shot back, his nose wrinkling in revulsion. "Veggie Lovers pizza? That''s disgusting." Of all the weird demon stuff, somehow this felt like the most unforgivable sin.

    "Mmmm," Sam hummed, his grin never faltering. He patted his stomach contentedly. "Yeah, somebody else literally dragged you in here."

    Xander''s brow furrowed, confusion clear on his face. He felt like he was trying to solve a Rubik''s cube blindfolded. "Who?"

    "You''ll find out." Sam started walking toward the door, his movements smooth and graceful. As usual, it was like gravity had decided to give him a pass for the day.

    "Wait!" Xander called out, his voice urgent. He tried to sit up straighter, wincing as his ribs protested.

    Sam turned around, raising an eyebrow. "Something wrong?" His tone was casual, but there was a glint in his eye that suggested he knew exactly what Xander was going to ask.

    "Uhhh, my arm?" Xander raised the limb in a cast, wincing slightly at the movement before pointing to his sides. "My ribs? You''re not gonna heal me?" He tried to keep the whine out of his voice, but it crept in anyway.

    Sam''s expression turned thoughtful, his head tilting slightly. He tapped his chin, as if considering a complex mathematical problem. "Oh... Well, I can but I really shouldn''t. And before you ask," he continued, raising a palm to stop Xander''s protest before it could start, "you''re already on record as being in the hospital with a broken arm and stab wounds. It would look too suspicious. Besides, you should be healing about... what, five times faster now? You''ll be right as rain in a couple weeks."

    "Couple Weeks?" Xander''s voice rose, cracking slightly. His eyes were wide with disbelief. The heart monitor beeped frantically, matching his rising panic. "But spring break?!" The thought of spending his precious week of freedom cooped up in a hospital bed was almost worse than facing down a pack of vampires.

    Sam nodded, his expression blank. If Xander didn''t know better, he''d swear the devil was enjoying this. "Yeah, that sucks." He turned back to the door, his hand on the knob. "...Be seeing ya!"

    He left quickly, disappearing past the door before Xander could protest further. The door clicked shut with a finality that felt like a jail cell closing.

    "Goddamnit," Xander muttered, slumping back against his pillows. "Ow!" He winced with a loud groan, the name of the Lord spiking through his skull like an ice pick. This is gonna be a long couple of weeks.

 Down & Out II

    Xander lay sprawled across his uncomfortable hospital bed, the cast on his arm both itchy and annoying. The cast on his arm itched like crazy, and he had to resist the urge to grab the nearest pointy object and go to town on it. The antiseptic smell of the hospital mixed with the less-than-appetizing scent of hospital food, creating a nauseating cocktail that made his stomach do flip-flops.

    He poked at the unidentifiable slop on his tray with a plastic fork, his face scrunching up in disgust. Seriously, who thinks this stuff is edible? he thought, eyeing the grayish-brown mush suspiciously. Pretty sure I saw this exact same goop in a horror movie once. Probably right before it came to life and ate the cast.

    With a dramatic sigh that would''ve made any soap opera star proud, Xander moved the ''food'' to a tray beside him. He reached for the booklet on his lap, flipping through yet another car magazine Willow had brought him. If boredom were fatal, I''d be long gone by now, he mused, his eyes glazing over as he stared at glossy pictures of cars he''d never be able to afford.

    The door creaked open, and Xander''s head snapped up, hoping for a distraction. His face broke into a grin as he saw a familiar redhead peeking in.

    "Willow!" he exclaimed, tossing the magazine aside. "My savior! Please tell me you''ve brought something edible. I''m pretty sure the hospital''s trying to poison me with mystery meat surprise."

    Willow Rosenberg scurried in, her arms laden with a paper bag that smelled suspiciously like heaven. "Oh! Um, I brought you some stuff," she said, her voice rising in pitch as she got excited. "I mean, it''s not much, but I thought you might be getting tired of hospital food, and my mom made these cookies, and I know they''re your favorite, so..."

    She trailed off, a blush creeping up her cheeks as she realized she was rambling. Xander felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with his injuries and everything to do with how much he appreciated his best friend.

    "Will, you''re a lifesaver," he said, making grabby hands at the bag. "Seriously, they should give you a cape or something. Willow Rosenberg: Defender of Taste Buds, Vanquisher of Hospital Food."

    Willow giggled, handing over the bag. "It''s not that big a deal," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I just... you know, wanted to make sure you were okay. And not, like, wasting away or anything."

    Xander dug into the bag, pulling out a Tupperware container full of chocolate chip cookies. He popped one into his mouth, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy. "Oh man," he mumbled around a mouthful of cookie. "I think I just died and went to cookie heaven."

    "Xander!" Willow admonished, but her smile took the sting out of it. "Don''t talk with your mouth full, mister. You''ll choke, and then where will we be?"

    "You''d give me mouth-to-mouth, right?" Xander waggled his eyebrows suggestively, then immediately regretted it as Willow''s face went tomato red.

    "I-I mean, not that... I wouldn''t... but..." Willow stammered, her hands fluttering nervously.

    "Relax, Will," Xander said quickly, trying to salvage the situation. "I''m just joking. Besides, with your cookies keeping me alive, I don''t think we have to worry about any choking incidents."

    Willow visibly relaxed, sinking into the chair beside his bed. "So, how are you feeling?" she asked, her eyes scanning his injuries with concern.

    Xander shrugged, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at his sore muscles. "Oh, you know, just peachy. Nothing like a good old-fashioned beat down to make a guy feel alive, right?"

    "Xander," Willow frowned, her brow furrowing. "It''s not funny. You could have been really hurt. I mean, more hurt than you already are."

    "Aw, come on, Will," Xander said, trying to lighten the mood. "It''s not like it''s the first time I''ve gotten my butt kicked. Remember that time in third grade when I tried to defend your honor against that bully?"

    Willow''s lips twitched into a reluctant smile. "You mean when you tripped over your own feet and fell face-first into a mud puddle?"

    "Hey, I maintain that was a strategic maneuver," Xander protested, grinning. "I distracted him with my awesome mud-diving skills while you made your escape."

    They both laughed, the tension in the room easing. Xander felt a wave of gratitude wash over him. The sweetest and least angry redhead in the world had been his rock through this whole ordeal, visiting him three times in the four days he''d been laid up in this sterile hell. She''d brought him an arsenal of sugary snacks and homemade treats, including his all-time favorite¡ªTwinkies. Thank Hell for Willow and her baked goods, Xander thought, his smile softening. Girl''s a lifesaver in more ways than one.

    "Oh!" Willow exclaimed suddenly, digging into her backpack. "I almost forgot. I brought you some more books. I thought you might be getting bored with the car magazines."

    She pulled out a stack of comics and a few well-worn paperbacks. Xander''s eyes lit up at the sight of the latest X-Men issue. "Will, have I told you lately that you''re the best?"

    "Not in the last five minutes," she quipped, a pleased blush coloring her cheeks.

    As Willow settled in to read to him, her soft voice a welcome distraction from the monotony of hospital life, Xander found himself reflecting on the past few days. Giles had visited a couple of times, each visit kinda awkward and tense at first. The Watcher had given him pointed looks and asked probing questions that had Xander holding tight to the nurse call button, ready to fake a medical emergency if things got too intense. But thankfully, the older man had steered clear of the heavy questions in his most recent visit. Guess he''s finally given up on the witch hunt, Xander thought, relief washing over him. About time. I was starting to feel like he was on to me.

    Buffy had popped in as well, her mood way better than the last time he''d seen her. Which made sense, given that their last meetup had her mom in the hospital and her bloodsucker boyfriend being suspect numero uno. Both of those things no longer being a factor had to be a weight off her shoulders. Good for her, Xander thought, meaning it despite the twinge of jealousy he felt whenever Angel was mentioned. Girl''s got enough on her plate without having to worry about her mom or her undead boy toy.

    Despite their concerns and apologies for not being there when he supposedly got jumped by drunk bikers¡ªan alibi he was grateful to Sam for, even if it did make him sound like a total wimp¡ªXander had reassured them with his usual goofy smile.

    "Better me than you," he''d said to Willow and Giles both, the lie tasting bitter on his tongue. Can''t exactly tell them I got my ass handed to me by a bunch of vampire leather daddies, Xander thought with a wry smirk. They''d probably have some real questions about that. "After all, Buffy needed the help with that vampire bitch," he''d added, trying to steer the conversation away from his injuries.

    Willow left soon after, needing to get home before it got dark, for obvious reasons.

    Speaking of vampires and demon-related stuff, he''d noticed that the sunlight seemed to be affecting him less and less since he''d been laid up. The daybreak still drained him, but not as much as it used to. It was like his body was finally getting with the program, adjusting to its new demonic upgrade. Guess that''s my demon blood finally settling like Sam said, Xander mused, flexing his non-cast-trapped fingers experimentally.

    Despite that though, his energy¡ªthat dark red stuff Sam called Infernal Energy or Demonic Power or Nether¡ªseemed to be recovering at a snail''s pace, which was weird. It was like his batteries were recharging in slow motion, and he couldn''t figure out why.

    Even weirder, over the past half-week, his physical wounds had healed with inhuman speed, the bruises fading and the cuts scabbing over rather quickly beneath his bandages¡ªeven if they were still sore. But it was still oddly slow compared to his usual healing rate. Normally, a night''s rest was all it took to erase minor scrapes by the time he woke up for school, so this was just... odd.

    Xander stared at the ceiling, his eyes tracing the cracks in the tiles for what felt like the millionth time. He knew how quick he usually healed - nightly battles with six-foot-tall chalk goblins, hungry vampire newborns, and giant mantises had given him a pretty good idea of his recovery time. But this? This was just ridiculous.

    Three days for bruises to fade. Seriously? He''d never dealt with a broken arm, a concussion, deep stab wounds, a compression fracture in his spine, and a head wound all at once before, but come on. This was slower than a snail race in molasses.

    Now, as Xander lay there, his thoughts drifted to the recovery of his broken arm. With any luck, it won''t take more than three weeks... He grimaced, thinking about spring break already slipping through his fingers like sand in an hourglass. All those April Fool''s Day pranks he''d missed out on plotting - gone, vanished, kaput. Just get me out of here before May hits, please. I can''t miss the Star Wars re-release.

    The thought of being stuck in this sterile hell for another month was almost enough to make him scream. Or maybe take up interpretive dance. Anything to break the monotony.

    He sighed heavily, the sound echoing slightly in the room that smelled like disinfectant and despair. Hospital''s really getting to me. I''m already talking to myself. Next thing you know, I''ll be writing angsty poetry about bedpans. His gaze fell on the window, the sunlight streaming in too bright, too cheerful for his mood. It was like the sun was mocking him, all "Hey look, it''s a beautiful day outside! Too bad you''re stuck in here, sucker!"

    At least Willow''s treats made this bearable. Wonder if she''ll bring more tomorrow... The thought of Willow''s homemade cookies was enough to make his stomach growl, reminding him that hospital food was barely a step above cardboard in terms of taste and nutrition.

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    ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C o ¨C?

    Two and a half weeks had sluggishly trudged by while Xander had been laid up in the hospital, each day blending into the next like a boring, beige-colored smoothie. The only thing breaking up the constant boredom was the occasional visit from Buffy or Willow or a nurse coming in to poke and prod him like he was some kind of science experiment.

    Today''s break in the monotony came in the form of Willow again, her arrival heralded by the cheerful jingle of her favorite keychain. She breezed into the room like a redheaded whirlwind, arms full of what looked suspiciously like more homework masquerading as get-well gifts. Xander couldn''t help but smile at the sight of her, even if the pile of books made him want to fake a coma.

    "Guess what? We got a new principal," Willow announced almost as soon as she settled into the chair beside his bed, her tone clearly exasperated. She dumped the stack of papers and books onto the small table next to Xander''s bed, the pile teetering precariously like a game of academic Jenga.

    Xander arched an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Oh, that''s nice," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Another shining beacon of education to guide us through the hallowed halls of Sunnydale High. Let me guess, this one''s part troll?"

    "His name''s Snyder and... not really?" Willow''s response was hesitant, her shoulders shrugging slightly as she settled back into her chair, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. "I mean, he''s not exactly... friendly?"

    "Willow Rosenberg not being excited about the prospect of a new educator? What is the world coming to?" Xander quipped, his hand clutching at his heart in mock horror. "What next, a rain of blood? Dogs and cats living together? Mass hysteria?"

    Willow tried to suppress a smile, her eyes rolling playfully. "No, it''s just that he''s kind of a..." She trailed off, her nose wrinkling as she searched for the right word, her hands making vague gestures in the air as if trying to pluck the perfect descriptor from thin air.

    "Dickhead? Asshat? Douchebag?" Xander offered helpfully, each descriptor more colorful than the last. He watched as Willow''s face cycled through various shades of pink, torn between amusement and disapproval.

    "...Meanie," Willow settled on, much to Xander''s amusement. She shot him a look, her lips pursed in disapproval, but he could see the corners of her mouth twitching, fighting a smile.

    "That''s my Willow. So eloquent," he teased, earning a light swat from her on his thigh. "Oh noo, the paiiiiiiin," he whined, clutching at his leg dramatically. "I''ve been struck down in the prime of my youth! Tell my action figures I love them!"

    "Stop it," she scolded, though her eyes twinkled with amusement. "You''re impossible, you know that?"

    "It''s part of my charm," Xander grinned, waggling his eyebrows. "So, what''d this Snyder guy do to earn the coveted title of ''meanie'' from Willow Rosenberg, nicest girl in Sunnydale?"

    Willow''s face scrunched up, like she''d just tasted something sour. "He gave this whole speech about how he''s not interested in making friends," she explained, her hands moving animatedly as she spoke. "And then he made me and Buffy participate in the talent show. Can you believe it?"

    "Talent show? Ugh." Xander made a face, the thought alone enough to dredge up embarrassing memories of past school events. Visions of off-key singing and awkward dance routines flashed before his eyes, making him shudder. "What''d you do? Did Buffy juggle knives or something? Ooh, or maybe she did a dramatic reading of ''Vampire Slaying for Dummies''?"

    "No..." Willow shook her head, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Buffy and I... we were supposed to perform a scene from a play," she corrected him, her fingers playing with a loose thread on Xander''s blanket. "And stuff."

    Xander''s eyebrows shot up, his interest piqued. "A play? You? On stage?" He couldn''t help but grin at the mental image of Willow, his shy, brainy best friend, up on stage in front of the whole school. "Please tell me there are pictures. Or better yet, video evidence."

    "Oh, um... it''s not... I mean..." Willow stammered, her face now roughly the same shade as her hair. "It wasn''t exactly... Broadway-worthy?"

    "Come on, Will, spill," Xander prodded, his grin widening. "What play? Romeo and Juliet? Macbeth? Ooh, was it Cats? Please tell me you didn''t have to wear a furry costume."

    When Willow only reddened further, Xander couldn''t help but burst out laughing, the sound echoing off the hospital walls. "Oh man, I wish I could''ve seen that," he wheezed, clutching his sides.

    "It''s not funny!" Willow protested, but a giggle escaped her lips. "It was mortifying! We just stood there, staring at each other like... like..."

    "Like two deer caught in the headlights of the talent show bus?" Xander supplied helpfully.

    "Exactly!" Willow nodded vigorously. "And then Buffy started improvising, which was... interesting."

    "Interesting how?" Xander asked, leaning forward eagerly. "Did she start talking about stakes and holy water?"

    "No, but she did mention something about demons accidentally," Willow said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I don''t think anyone really noticed, though. They were too busy laughing at us."

    "Aw, Will," Xander''s tone softened, seeing the genuine distress in his friend''s eyes. "I''m sure it wasn''t that bad. And hey, at least you didn''t have to sing, right?"

    "I guess," Willow sighed, then perked up noticeably, her eyes widening in that Willow way that told Xander he was in for a ramble. "Oh! And there was this whole thing with a demon hunter puppet and a demon pretending to be a student and harvesting people''s organs." Her explanation tumbled out in a rush, her hands gesturing wildly as she tried to summarize it all. "A student had brain cancer and we found out because a demon took his brain to eat it, or something, but couldn''t because it was bad and Buffy fought the puppet, until we realized it was a good guy."

    "What?" Xander''s confusion was obvious on his face, his brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of Willow''s rapid-fire story.

    "Yeah, and Giles almost got his head cut off with a guillotine," Willow added, describing a typical week at Sunnydale High as if it were no big deal. "That was a thing."

    "Huh?"

    "A lot happened," Willow shrugged as if demon puppets and near-decapitations were all in a day''s work.

    "In one week?" Xander''s tone was incredulous, his mind racing to piece together the bizarre snippets. Judas Priest, I leave them alone for a couple weeks and they''re already dealing with brain-eating demons and homicidal puppets. Maybe I should''ve stayed in the hospital.

    "Yeah, and I think Giles might have a girlfriend," Willow dropped in out of nowhere, the tidbit making Xander''s eyes widen.

    "I''m sorry, I must have misheard you," the teenage boy replied robotically. "Mr. English is dating?"

    "Wellll," Willow added, looking off to the side, "I mean, they''re not dating, but they''re making gooey eyes at each other when they think no one''s noticing."

    Xander frowned. "Wow, that''s¡­" UNFAIR. The idea that Mr. Uptight and Tweedy somehow got a girlfriend before him just felt wrong, age aside. He was the young, cool, handsome, and dangerous guy. By the laws of nature and everything holy, he should be the one drowning in women. Where was his girlfriend?

    Wait¡­ by everything holy¡­ His eyes widened. Noooooooo¡­

    "Also, I met your friend... uh, Sam," Willow changed the subject, her voice dropping slightly as if she were sharing a secret.

    "''Sam''?" Xander''s heart skipped a beat, his casual demeanor slipping slightly as he considered the implications of his friends meeting his devil boss. Oh shit, what''s he doing at the school?

    "The... uh, guy... with uh, the bright red hair?" Willow seemed unsure, her description tentative as she tried to recall the details. "Ummm... he has blue eyes... and uh, his skin..."

    "Oh, Black Sam, yeah, I know him, he''s a cool guy," Xander recovered quickly, forcing nonchalance into his voice. Play it cool, Xan-Man.

    "I don''t think you''re supposed to say that," Willow frowned slightly.

    "Yeah, yeah, whatever, keep talking," Xander brushed off the correction, eager to hear more about Sam''s unexpected appearance at the school.

    "He just decided to help Giles digitize some books for no reason," Willow continued, oblivious to Xander''s growing concern. "Just felt like helping out, I guess."

    "..No reason, huh?" Xander barely kept the suspicion out of his voice. What''s he up to in the library? And why''s he talking to my friends?

    "Yeah, and I just... I dunno, expected him to have an accent, or something," Willow admitted sheepishly, her cheeks coloring slightly at the admission.

    "An accent?" Xander raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued despite his unease.

    "Yeah, you know¡­" Willow trailed off, her expression embarrassed as she avoided Xander''s gaze, "cause of his... hair... the dreadlocks, and stuff..."

    "Willow, you''re not supposed to say that," Xander couldn''t help but tease, a mock-stern expression on his face. "That''s insensitive. How could you?"

    "I''m sorry," Willow''s apology was sincere, her face reddening like a tomato. "I just thought..."

    Xander couldn''t help himself, letting out a laugh at Willow''s obvious discomfort. "Wills, sweetie, it''s okay. I''ve made jokes about it. Sam doesn''t care, he''s cool. Trust me."

    Willow shot him a relieved smile, her shoulders sagging as the tension drained out of her. "Oh... okay." After a moment, she shot him a frown, her eyes narrowing. "You''re the worst."

    Xander grinned, unrepentant. "Ain''t I a stinker?"