Fic: Written Upon The Sands Of Time 2/8 Buffy/Dune
Written Upon the Sands of Time. By: Lopaka Tanu Fandom: Buffy: The Vampire Slayer/Dune. Pairing: Xander/Angel, mentions of Paul/Duncan - Paul/Otheym. Rating: Adult Slash. Archive: Yes, just tell me. Warning: Violence, Language, Character Death, Sexual Content. Disclaimer: I do not own either Buffy: The Vampire Slayer or Dune. Summary: After Halloween, Xander feels like he is losing his mind. When deaths of mysterious origins happen, will he remember what is so familiar about them in time to save those close to him? "Deep in the human unconscious, is a pervasive need for a logical universe, that makes sense. But the real universe, is always one step beyond logic." -from The Sayings of Muad'Dib
Waking up in the hospital was not what Xander considered the results of a good time. If whatever happened as result of that little troll Snyder, he was going to have himself a good old fashioned lynching. Running a hand down his face, he felt the painful tug of an IV in his arm and grimaced. Great, so he had been out long enough for them to stick it to him.
There was no one else in the room that he could see and that made it easier for him to escape. Sitting up, he winced at the vertigo induced headache. So much for doing things the easy way. It took him a minute to stabilize himself before he could slide to the edge of the bed and hang his feet off. When he did, he noticed the lack of real clothes and frowned.
Someone had removed his stillsuit.
Frowning, Xander eased himself off the bed. It was a short walk to the closet and there he found the costume and a pair of clothes that definitely weren't his. Sighing with relief, he removed the hospital gown and grabbed the hanger his costume was on. He pulled it off and slid it on slowly. The vertigo made him lean against the door as he pulled it on. The cup was no where to be found, but other wise it was all there.
It didn't occur to Xander until he had strapped the mask in to place that he had felt uncomfortable without it on. Strange and embarrassing were the exact feelings. Almost like the time six months ago when he was in school without clothes on due to Ryan's dreams.
Xander shuddered in memory.
The costume in place, he felt more at ease. Only one thing still nagged on his mind, his crysknife was missing. Feeling anger that anyone would dare strip him of such an important possession, he started for the door.
A wave of vertigo sent him crashing against the wall halfway to the door. "Damn it!" He grabbed for the handle and used it to steady himself. Once there, he turned the latch and opened the door. The moment he did, a wall of sound hit him.
Women were screaming, children crying, and people of all ages were raising their voices. Apparently they had something to worry about. In the clamor to be noticed by the staff, Xander slipped through the crowd and headed for the exit. However, he wasn't so fortunate.
At the double doors leading to entrance number three, Xander's arm was grabbed in a punishing grip. He was jerked back to the hard body of someone and a cold hand placed over his lips. Whoever had him pulled him to the shrubbery to hide them.
Xander drove his free arm into the chest of the vampire, knocking him back in to the wall. Unfortunately for him, the vampire had him in a tight grip and held on, so they both went backwards. Xander impacted in to the chest of the vampire. This time both arms tightened around him.
"Calm down, Xander, it is just me," Angel whispered against his ear, tightening his lock on the boy. Holding him close, he ducked down as more people came in through the entrance. "There are a lot of people here, they don't particularly care who you are if it gets the blame off them."
"I can handle myself, Deadboy. Now let go!" Elbowing the vampire again, he pushed himself up and broke free. His body shot up so fast he slammed in to the bushes in front of them. Grabbing on to it, he steadied himself and the topsy plant. "Whoa, where'd that come from?"
Unfortunately for him, his actions and voice alerted a group of parents bringing in their crying kid to his presence. A father launched himself at the bushes with a war cry.
Hearing the battle cry, Xander's eyes went wide and he jumped up hoping the man would crash low. Again he over shot his goal and the plant. It wasn't how he jumped so high that worried Xander, it was the coming down as he crashed landed in the middle of the crowd. This time fate seemed to be on his side and he landed in a ready crouch. Not waiting to see what else he could do, he took off as fast as he could through the open doors.
His speed had also increased he noted as he out sped an ambulance on its way out of the parking lot. "Huh, well isn't that neato?" After a bit, he started to grow tired and had to slow down. By now he was halfway home.
Which reminded him, he had been in the hospital. His parents had been notified. Which meant he was dead meat if he didn't get back there quick. He would, once he changed. Glancing down at his body and the skin tight costume, he was sure that wasn't quite the image he wanted to show off. With that decided, he jogged at a more reasonable pace to get home.
After rounding the corner of his block, he came to a halt. His front porch light was on and his father's station wagon was in the drive way. That meant two things, his parents were home, and were passed out early. They weren't even aware he had been at the hospital. Usually that would have been just another sign of how much life sucked at times, but tonight it was a disguised blessing.
There would be no need to return to the hospital, no need to explain how he ended up there in the first place to his parents. And if he was really lucky, there would be no record of who he was, just a John Doe. That was if he was really lucky.
Sighing, Xander made his way up the street to his home. In the distance he could hear the sounds of cars and police cruisers. Tonight was just like any other night in SunnyDale. G-man was so wrong and Xander was going to enjoy rubbing that little fact in tomorrow.
At his house, he opened the door quietly and slipped inside. The house was never locked despite the danger. Inside, he glanced in the living room and found his father where he knew he would, passed out in the lazy-boy, supper chilled on the TV tray by his side. His father was always busting his ass at the construction site and Xander swore to himself that no matter how bad it got, he would never do it.
His mother was probably in her bed asleep still dressed in her waitress uniform and shoes at the edge of the bed. Glancing in the kitchen, he saw the boxes that had housed the TV Dinner. Sighing, he cleaned up the mess and turned off the over head light. Walking back in the living room, he turned off the TV and end table lamp. After throwing a blanket over his father, he headed up stairs for bed.
(oooooo)
Morning came too soon in his opinion. Blinking, Xander ran a hand over his face to wipe away the build up and dried drool. It bothered him that his skin felt more oily than usual. Shaking it off, he climbed out of bed and headed for the shower.
In the bathroom he got a good look at his appearance. The world seemed strange around him and he noticed that he looked soft. Touching his face, he examined the flesh. "Water fat." The age old curse of the Fremen for those who took for granted the blessing of water.
Smiling, he headed for the shower. So much water on this planet, so much to use and enjoy. Today he felt like luxuriating in the feel of water on his body. It had been so long since he could do so without feeling guilty about the waste that he almost couldn't bring himself to do it.
Almost.
(oooooo)
He was sitting in fourth period when he felt it.
Coming in early to school he had missed both Buffy and Willow, much to his relief. Xander couldn't handle their questions after friday night. He wasn't actually aware of that previous evening's events, just that they left him a little jumpy, and faster for a time. Whatever had happened, the effects had worn off while he slept. He tried running this morning and all he could manage was his normal speed.
Deciding that it was probably best that whatever it was that had happened to him wore off, he tried putting it out of his mind. However, now when he tried to think of other things, it always kept drawing him back to halloween night. By the time third period had rolled around, he was ready to make a deal with the devil to remember.
Thinking it best not to make such thoughts, he focused on the paper in his hand. It was about the difference between squid and octopi. The only difference was the placement of the legs. How hard was that to figure out?
It started out as a niggling at the back of his neck. He scratched it and continued on with his work. The octopus had eight legs of equal length while the squid didn't. Xander rubbed at the itch again and frowned. The squid was to the octopus as the chimp was to the human.
The itch increased and he snapped. Twisting around, he raised his hand to slap at whoever was rubbing something against his head only to find he was the last person in the row. He smiled to dispell the looks the others were giving him and turned back to his paper.
Xander eyed them as he faced the desk. It wasn't like this was the first time anything weird happened around here, just that they seemed to take great pleasure when it happened to him. He was about to burn a little at them when he felt the feeling again.
This time a definite vibration could be felt at the back of his head. The sensation ran up through his skull to his inner ear. A sudden pain had him clutching his head and clicking his jaw to defer the pressure. Stretching his jaw bone down, he made over biting motions. When he opened his eyes, he found the teacher glaring at him. He let go of his head and smiled at her. "Sorry, pressure build up."
"If you wish to look like a fool, do it on your own time, not in my class." Giving him an evil eye, she headed back towards the front of her class.
Xander felt like a complete moron. The class was still looking at him and snickering. He glanced up at the clock and sighed. Twenty minutes until lunch. He would have to rush if he was going to avoid the Buffinator and Willow Wisp. Not that he wanted to avoid them, it just, well, he wanted to avoid speaking about last night.
Plus, he was still angry at them for leaving their groups with him. He should never have had to deal with them runts all by himself. There was the undisclosed fact that he was also ticked there was no candy from halloween on top of it all. A sweet tooth didn't feed itself.
Life in Sunnyhell was so unfair sometimes. There was just something about being on the mouth to hell that really sucked. Of course it could be the mouth itself, more than probably. Fuming, he slumped in his seat and put the paper away. It was best to just wait and finish it later.
Glancing up at the clock, he rubbed at the back of his neck. The tingling sensation was still there, only he was slowly becoming accustomed to it. He figured whatever was would go away on its own. Probably the beginning of a really nasty cold. He had one a few years back that had him kissing floor every time he tried to stand.
That was indeed a nasty one and it appeared this would be a replay. Groaning, he lowered his head and tried to get some rest. The teacher wouldn't care, and if she did, so what? Dr. Yueh was a scarier teacher than Mrs. Plimpleton.
(ooooo)
The lunch line felt longer than usual today. By now Xander was feeling extremely run down and irritable. Any time someone even brushed against him, he snapped and nearly attacked. There was something off about him today and he couldn't figure out what it was. That is until he caught the first whiff of the special offering on the menu.
Mouth watering with a craving he had never known before, Xander pushed his way through the line to grab the source of his mindless search. He was halfway through with the fist sized cinnamon roll before he realized that people were staring. He didn't care. Loading his plate up with them, he threw a five at the lunch lady and rushed to a far corner.
Once seated, he quickly sucked down the rest of the roll with many moans of satisfaction. Grabbing the next one, he pressed his nose in the center of it. He inhaled the scent of it and felt a calm settle over him so dramatically is caused him to shiver. Eyes closed, he sat there enjoying the smell for a few minutes. A single word slowly rolled off his lips, "spice."
Half blissed out, he opened his dazed eyes to see that he was the center of attention for five tables. A grin flitted across his face as he giggled. Feeling the gooey icing melting on his fingers, he bit in to the roll. He moaned some more, enjoying each bite until the roll was gone. Xander finished off the last three in quick order, not taking the time to anything except satisfy the craving. When they were all gone, he licked the plate clean of all remains.
After that was gone, he finally allowed himself to relax and digest. The nagging feeling of unease had all but evaporated. He reached up to cover his mouth as he released a belch. The scent hit his nose and something inside him flared, a half buried memory. "The spice is life."
Standing up, Xander grabbed his tray and headed for the kitchen drop point. Once there, he put the tray in the window and smiled at the lunch lady. "They were very good." Still smiling from the cinnamon roll, he absently thought he probably looked high. Didn't matter, the pain was gone and all was right in Xander World once more. He waved on his way passed the lunch lady at the meal line.
All in all, he supposed he had spent less than three minutes in the cafeteria. A new personal best. He headed for the auditorium to finish sleeping off his nap from the previous period.
(oooooo)
"You should have seen it, Giles. The way he attacked them, you'd think he was having a major case of the munchies. And then how he ate them, it was just plain obscene! Who knew Cinnamon Rolls were such a turn on?" Buffy shook her head in disbelief. Sitting at the library table with Willow and Giles, she was fiddling with her stake and explaining what she saw during lunch. "He sat there sniffing it, burying his face in this one. I swear, half the girls in there were about to need a new change of undies, if you get my meaning."
"Buffy," Giles snapped half scandalized, half intrigued. If this was a twist from halloween night, perhaps it could mean something new for the boy.
Willow could only stare in shock as Buffy picked up an imaginary cinnamon roll.
Holding her hand in front of her face, Buffy closed her eyes and sniffed at it. "Like this! Then he slowly sucked it down, piece by piece, licking his fingers when through. The remaining three he just inhaled. After licking the plate clean, another weirdly thigh clenching moment, he strolled out of the cafeteria without a care to the world. Like he was high on cloud nine. One moment he's bitching at the people in line, the next he was stoned from cinnamon rolls. I tell you, after he left, it was a mad dash for them cinnamon rolls." She made a cutting motion with her hand. "Not a single one survived that rush."
"Yes, well, aside from assaulting pastries, have you noticed anything else untoward happening with Xander?" Giles blanched at the words that had come from his mouth. He could almost feel his IQ drop every time these kids came around. By the time they graduated he felt they would have sucked every last iota of information from him.
Buffy glanced to Willow in confusion, then shrugged. "Not really. I only saw him for a few minutes and then he was gone again. He's avoiding us, but I don't know why. Angel said he was faster than normal last night when he and I talked, do you suppose that is why?"
"It sounds about right. Usually Xander only goes out of his way like this when he is afraid of what I might think. Last time he did this, he had ruined my pink fuzzy sweater. He didn't come back until he had a new one for me." Feeling bad about the past, Willow shrunk down in her seat. "It wasn't even his fault, Jesse was the one who pushed him in to me with the snow cone."
"Yes, well aside from establishing a track record, is there anything else we know?" It was almost a full minute before he gave up. Evidently the only way he would get information out of this bunch was through torture, his. "Fine, I want you to see if you can find Xander tonight before you go out on patrol. Do not harm him, Buffy, just tell him I am concerned for him. Tell him that it is imperative we find out what changes he suffered from Ethan's spell."
Buffy seemed to consider it for a moment before nodding. If there was something seriously hinky with Xander, she would deal with it personally.
(ooooo)
Xander sat mesmerized on the edge of a cliff over looking the ocean below. It was probably the first time he had ever felt like climbing up here to watch the ocean despite living here all his life. He couldn't figure it out, this just seemed like the right place to be. Not that he was paying much attention to his own thoughts. The wide ocean held most of his attention.
There was just something about so much water that it stung his eyes to think about it. He was almost afraid to close his eyes, as if when he opened them again all he would see were dunes. It wasn't anything specific, but he felt like his happiest times had been spent near the ocean.
The lapping sound of the tide going out against the surf lulled him in to a daze. So lost in the sounds and experience, he forgot what the sun setting meant for him. It wasn't until he was joined on the rock by a figure in black that Xander even looked away from it all. "The world feels so different now."
"That's no reason to get careless." Angel sat the bone dagger on the rock between them. "I took this before we reached the hospital, I didn't want them asking questions. It looked important."
Xander quickly tucked it down the front of his pants out of sight. "Thank you, I wondered where it had gone." A seagull's cry drew his attention back to the shore. "I never realized how beautiful it was, even after dark."
"The world is still a beautiful place." Watching Xander out of the corner of his eye, Angel scooted closer until they were touching. "You've changed."
"No I haven't, it's the world that's different." He glanced to the vampire, smirking at his put upon sigh. "I know. You're just so cute when you get all huffy. Keep it up, Dead Boy, and someone might mistake you for being alive."
"Xander, they're looking for you. Sooner or later you're going to have to face them." This time he completely faced Xander, making the boy look at him. "Buffy is worried about you."
At the mention of his friend, Xander's face darkened and he looked away. "Yeah, well, she can keep looking. I'm in no hurry to see her again." Self consciously, he rubbed at the bruises on his chest and face. There would be time for dealing with her later. "Right now, I just want to sit and enjoy my ocean. I haven't seen anything this beautiful since my home on Caladan."
"Where was that," Angel asked distractedly. They were going to run him ragged when they found out he saw Xander and didn't force him to come right away.
"Where was what?" He sighed contentedly, taking in the salty air. The fresh breeze had kicked up again. Paradise was no longer just a long ago memory for him.
"You said your home on Caladan. Where is that?" At Xander's shrug, Angel frowned. The boy was either high, spaced out, or so lost he just didn't give a damn. He was betting a mixture of all three. Out of some self disgusted need to comfort, he slipped an arm around Xander's shoulders. "You'll come to me if you need help?"
"Sure." His voice was barely a whisper having been distracted by the shock of comfort from the broodmiester. Again the waves took him and he felt the need to just be. Ignoring the odd factor of it all, he laid his head on Angel's shoulder.
It was official, Angel was starting to be seriously freaked out. The normally spiteful, foul mouthed hellion was acting like a druggie on the world's greatest stash, seeking him for comfort. There was something seriously wrong with this entire picture. Yet, when Xander's arm slid up under his jacket, all he could do was tighten his hold on him.
After life was funny sometimes.
In the bushes higher up the cliff face, Buffy stood next to Willow, her hand snapping the wooden stake in two at the scene below them.
(oooooo)
Outside of town along a far stretch of road that ended in a scraggle patch, just passed an old cemetery, the earth tremored.
Spike glanced down at the ground beneath his feet in frustration. Putting out his cigarette with a stomp, he growled. "What the bloody hell is taking them so long?"
"Patience, my sweet Spike." Drusilla slid a gloved hand down the side of Spike's face, cupping his cheek. Leaning in closely, she crooned in his ear. "My prince will get his castle, the peasants didn't build London in a day."
"That's Rome, Pet." At her growl, he smiled and patted her hand. "Right, London it is then. But what is bloody taking so long? This should have been done ages ago."
"They can not inspect so fast as to finish the very last." Singing, she began to giggle again. She wanted to twirl around in the moon light but the strength for it left her body the with such thoughts. Slumping against Spike, Drusilla began to moan. "I don't feel so good, my sweet Spike."
"Okay then, let's go, I'm sick of waiting for those buggers anyways." As he turned for the car, he nodded to the two body guards. "If they return, kill them. Make it painful."
"Away, away, through the woods we go, to grand ma's house. Faster, little red riding hood, faster you go." Pressing a finger to Spike's lips as he helped her in to the car, she tiredly giggled. "Shhh, or the big bad wolf will get us."
"Just let him come, love, I'll save you and have myself a nice meal." With one last fawning glance at her, he closed the door. No sooner than after it shut, the ground beneath him moved. Not just a shake like an earth quake, he noted, but the ripple of something big under his feet actively pushing up. "Bloody hell!"
Jumping across the hood, he slid off the other side and snagged the door handle. Spike jerked it open and flew inside.
The ground shook again as a low groan vibrated the air.
"Hurry, Spike!" All semblance of composure gone, Drusilla clutched at Spike. Her white dress caught up in the gear shift as she slid across the seat to hold on to him. "The big bad wolf is hungry!"
"I'm tryin, the sodding engine won't turn over!" The key turned in the ignition three times before he caught a spark. Not waiting to see if it would hold, he grabbed the gear shift and threw the car in to drive.
The fringe of her dress ripped as the gear shift was pushed forward. Normally she would have complained, but the road beneath their car rocked. Instead, she began to whimper and clutch him harder.
After a quick back fire, the car launched forward and rocketed down the old road towards town. Sighing with relief, Spike caught something in the review mirror. He shuddered as his body guards disappeared in a stream of sand and something unholy.
(ooooooo)
Xander was high above the city of Arrakeen staring down upon his enemy's strong hold, doing recon for a strike. They had planned on stealing more thopters and damaging the spice production within the capital city itself. A great blow to the Harkonnen image and it would cost them a pretty sum too.
At his side stood the loyal Fedaykin, their numbers increasing each day as word spread among the Sietches that the Mahdi had come among them. He would continue to feed their fanaticism in him as their savior until he had achieved his own ends. What was begun by his mother would be finished by him, even if it spread across a thousand worlds.
As things continued to progress, he would soon undertake the final tests to prove himself to be He that can be many places at once, the Kwisatz Haderach. The one who would come from the outer world, he who could see things that no bene gesserit could. He would see the past, present, and future. Omniscient, to know it all.
Smiling to himself, Xander lowered the oil lens and glanced behind him to Otheym. The curly haired Fedaykin met Xander's smile with one of his own, puffing up his chest in jest. At times like this he reminded him of his former lover and tutor, Duncan. Perhaps that was why they too were lovers. Then again, Otheym had his own merits that separated him from Duncan Idaho.
A loud explosion of laughter to his right caught their attention and broke in to his thoughts. Smiling at his mentor and protector, Xander slid down the rock in to Otheym's arms. "They are ready, Stil. We go in tonight. Leave no Harkonnen alive."
Clasping his friend on the shoulder, Stilgar nodded. "You've planned very wisely, Usul. This attack will be successful."
"Like everyone before it, Usul." Otheym's hands slid down his body, pulling him back against the older man. "Some times I feel you spend more thought on strategy than all the Fremen combined."
Xander gasped as the expert fingers grasped him through his stillsuit. If it weren't for the cloak that covered him, his mentor would have a bird's eye view of what Otheym was doing to him. As it stood, all he could see were Xander's eyes. "I am only doing as I have been taught, Otheym. One can never over think a problem."
"Stop it, the both of you! Usul, keep your passions confined to the bed roll! We are here to kill Harkonnens, not play sex games in the sand." Stilgar growled in anger as Otheym only made his actions more visible and Xander laughed.
Xander awoke with memory of ghost touches across his skin. He could still smell the scent of his lover, the loss of which caused an ache in him.
(ooooooo)
"I am going to make it painful. May be a stake through the heart, repeatedly!" Buffy growled as she rescanned the same passage for the tenth time. Unable to focus because of her anger, she sighed and put it down on the table. "No, too quickly. Perhaps drops of acid."
There were fewer things in Giles opinion that scared him more than the possible loss of his precious control. However, listening to Buffy plan the execution of one of her closest friends just for receiving comfort from her vampire significant other was too much to take. Slamming his book down on the table, he removed his glasses and leaned over her. "Listen to yourself, you stupid little girl. Your friend is apparently going through an extremely emotional time at the moment and all you can seem to do is focus on how your boy friend lied to you."
"Giles, he did more than lie! He put his arm around Xander. They weren't comforting, they were snuggling!" Turning to Willow to back her up, Buffy leaned over the table. She stretched her arm out, pushing their research book to Willow. "Tell him, you saw them."
Willow split her attention between the two, shifting from one to the other nervously. It wasn't going to work, she would have to pick a side. Shifting in her chair, she frowned. "Um, Buffy, uh..."
"Hey all! Is there something big and bad I am missing?" Xander stopped in his tracks at the look Buffy gave him. Starting to back up, he held his bag up in front of him defensively. "Um, hey Buffy. Is there something wrong?"
"Oh nothing, just that I caught you and my boyfriend making out. How is he, by the way, as I haven't spent more than five minutes with him in the last three days. He seems to have only eyes for you even when I'm around." The looks Willow and Giles were giving her didn't phase Buffy one bit. In her opinion, Xander had crossed the line that no real friend should, stealing another's boyfriend. It didn't register on her mind how ridiculous she sounded.
However, where she was blind to her attitude and actions, Xander wasn't. Backing away, he glanced between the three people in the library. "Uh, I can see this was a mistake. I should have known better than to trust him over my own instincts. Giles, Wills," he acknowledged the other two with a nod before fleeing through the doors. Heading down the hall towards the exit, he growled in anger. It shouldn't have been this hard to go to his friends.
So lost in his thoughts, Xander ran in to the back of someone bigger than him. Looking up, he noted the particular shape and cut of the hair. "Sorry, Larry, didn't see you there."
Larry, having recovered his balance, twisted to glare at the other boy. As Xander stepped back away from him, Larry took a menacing step forward. "Fag, what have I told you about getting in my way?"
"I said I was sorry..." Xander was cut off when Jerry, Larry's second grabbed him from behind. "Uh, can you let me go?"
"Hold him! This little bitch apparently needs to relearn his lessons." Handing his bag off to Harmony despite her protest, Larry cracked his knuckles. "This was the third time, Harris, three times I told you, now you gotta pay, man!"
He struggled to get free of Jerry, but the foot baller had an iron grip on his jacket. "Look, you don't want to do this!" His eyes shot wide as Larry grabbed him by the shoulders and rammed his knee up in his crotch.
"Shut the fuck up!" Larry gave Jerry a warning look when he tried to hit Xander himself. "This one's mine, you son of a trawling wench!"
"Bah! You get them all, let us have some fun!" Growling at his Captain, Jerry, bared his teeth in a glare.
While they were distracted, Xander gasped for breath and shook from the pain. After a second, he was able to breath again. Movement above him drew his attention back to Larry. This time he pleaded with the older boy. "Let me go, you don't want me." He would normally be embarrassed by how high his voice was, but there were other more pressing matters.
Like the fact that they did as he asked.
Larry waved a hand in dismissive disgust. "Let him go, Jerry. This weak bitch isn't worth it."
"Larry?" Jerry shook Xander again, but the look his captain gave him made him let go. He wanted to kick some ass, but this time he wasn't going to go against Larry. Yet.
Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Xander grabbed his bag and made a run for it. He kept going until he was out of the school and down the block away from it. By the time he reached the bus depot, he was coughing horsely, gasping for air. Xander leaned against the outer wall of the building and continued to hack up a lung.
After his racing pulse had slowed and the spots in his eyes faded, he turned around and fell against the wall and sank down. He clutched himself through the front of his pants, holding on the throbbing balls. Tears started on the edge of his vision. It just wasn't fucking right.
He sat there for an unknown amount of time. When he finally felt ready to get up, the sun was close to setting. It didn't bother him to watch the sun go down out over the edge of the city. Standing, he used the wall for support, it felt strange being here after so late an hour. They usually patrolled the cemeteries and the back allies, this far out on the edge of town was a new experience.
Something drew his attention to the desert. He took a step towards it, a strange longing filling him. The beauty of it, away from the ocean, away from the city, the peace to be found among the dry hills. He could hear the laughing of children, their voices calling him back to the dunes. His people, his family, his home.
"You can sense it, can't ya kid?" Coming up to stand beside Xander, he anticipated the blade that was suddenly at his throat being held by Xander's extended arm. "I gotta tell ya, even without that weird guy in control, you still scare the shit outta me."
"What are you talking about?" Surprised by his own actions, Xander glanced down at his arm and the blade held in his hand. It had been pure instinct, the action was beyond his understanding how it happened. "Best make it quick, I'm not sure how long I can last without twitching."
"Right." Taking a deep breath, he caught his adam's apple on the edge of the blade and swallowed. "Well. Um. I'm sorta here as a representative of some people in charge of all this mess. They sent me with a message."
"Is that right?" Smirking, Xander flexed his hand and the blade slid up the man's neck. He slowly traced the hairline, removing stubble from his neck. "Tell me, what is it they want from me?"
"You know about the powers?" This time he was surprised for an entirely different reason.
"Sure, there has to be someone out there reffing this. Not like there are many rules, but there are a few, and someone had to make them." As he said it, Xander realized it was true. Not that he ever paid attention to anything, it just came to him as he thought it. Like there was something inside him that was normally dormant taking control, flexing a muscle that was rarely used.
"Okay then." Eyeing the young man with something akin to fear, he slowly thought about how to word the message, to articulate how exactly they wanted him to act. After a moment, he nodded and frowned. "They want me to tell you 'you're on your own on this one', kid. The others can't help you and if you can't remember what is necessary, more people are gonna die."
"What kinda message is that?" As he turned to give the man a thorough interrogation, he noticed the man was gone. "That was really annoying. And what the hell am I supposed to remember?" His questions fell on empty night as the sun disappeared over the horizon.
Despite the intense heat of the evening, Xander drew his jacket up over his shoulders. For the past two days he had felt exposed, almost naked in his normal clothes. Anything that left his body bare to the elements was completely out. Tossing up his collar in a way he knew would earn him ridicule from Buffy, he headed back for the side walk and toward home.
(ooooooo)
There are times when Buffy was certain that someone is out to get her. Well aside from the whole forces of darkness thing. And a few rogue humans. The bad guys. Principal Snyder. The cheerleading squad. That weird statue in the trophy case. And the strange Cordette pod people.
It would be in all their best interests to just avoid her at times like this because she felt like she could take on an apocalypse or three and still have time to bake up a storm. Well she was doing the baking thing. Not that they were turning out better than the last twelve batches of door stop cookies she had made.
Perhaps there was still an apocalypse in the offing?
Sighing, she dropped the pan of cookies in the trash and put the pan in the sink. Enough of the burning things for one night. After the battle of wills and Wills in the library earlier, she had finally taken a listen to herself and blanched. The whole idea she was jealous of her best guy friend and her boyfriend was ridiculous.
Xander was straight. Umpata had proven that. So had the substitute teacher last year. And the countless times he had tried hitting on her. Not once had he gotten lucky, but she could always count on him to brighten her day with his flattery. And that was what was really important, that he cared for her in that special way, a way he didn't feel for Angel.
Feeling like a complete moron, she had decided to try her hand at baking. Frowning at the mound of burnt hockey pucks in the trash, it appeared her slaying skills were the extent of her skills, and that it extended to all aspects of her life. She was glad she didn't have a pet or even a house plant, who needed a zombie cat... again?
Deciding she was weirding herself out with all the brooding, she groaned and removed the apron. "That's it, I am officially throwing in the proverbial towel, I can not cook."
"Take a number, dear, at your age I could burn water. It just takes lots of practice and infinite patience." Joyce came up beside her daughter and kissed her on the forehead. "I know you wanted to make him those cookies, but perhaps you should just do like I suggested and buy them from the bakery down town."
Sighing, Buffy nodded. "All right, have it your way. Just tell it to my future husband when he complains that I can't cook."
"Trust me, dear, he'll thank me for stopping you." Passing by Buffy on her way out of the kitchen with a glass of orange juice, she smiled.
Buffy watched her mother go with something akin to suspicion. "I thought you said at my age you couldn't cook."
"What can I say, I lied." Winking, she moved around the corner and in to the dining room.
She continued to stand there staring where her mother had disappeared. After a few moments, she blinked and frowned. "My mother the liar. And she wonders why I am the way I am."
(ooooooo)
Sitting in the kitchen at the table doing his homework, Xander growled in anger. The TV was distracting him. He knew complaining would do no good, so he just bit down on the edge of his pencil and focused on the work. It was a simple enough assignment, figuring out the basics of geometry.
The hard part was seeing it on the paper.
Two dimensional physics were always hard. He had to see it in action to understand the dynamics. About the time he started to figure out what exactly was going on in the diagram, the TV started blaring a cheerful jingle for ice cream. Figuring it a lost cause, he slammed the pencil down, got up and walked over to the counter top.
He needed something to eat to help him get his mind on the work. In the dim light from the overhead, he could see that the ramen soup was all his mother had left out again. In the fridge he could probably scrounge up something for a sandwich, if she hadn't forgot to get bread that is. Sighing, he grabbed a pot out of the cabinet and filled it with water.
After setting it on the stove and turning it on, he went back to his homework. The visuals of the problem came back to his mind like he hadn't just spent the last five minutes not thinking about it. It didn't occur to him that he could recall every detail of it, just that it was still a bitch to solve.
When it still refused to right itself in his mind, he sat down. Closing his eyes, he took a steading breath. He pushed all other things from his mind and focused on the aspects of the problem. With a firm hold on them, he opened his eyes. The variables played out in his mind as he calculated the degrees.
Slowly, the figures started to make sense to him. The degree of the incline would alter the placement of the stone. It came to him in a snap. The reason it hadn't been making sense was because the problem was configured using wrong variables. His teacher had made a mistake in calculating the trajectory. If the rock hit the window, it would be because of outside factors, not the force given by the thrower.
By the time he recalculated the numbers and fixed the mistake, the water on his stove was boiling. With a satisfied moan, he set the pencil down again and stood up. He quickly put the noodles in the water. Munching on the broken tips from the bag, he waited for the noodles to finish boiling.
He was in such a good mood he sang along with an annoying jingle. It didn't matter if anyone heard him, he was in too good a mood. For once he had out smarted the math teacher. Life was definitely good.
Soon enough the noodles were done and he drained off some of the water before adding the spice mix. Smelling it, he felt a little disgusted by the scent, it needed something. He began rummaging through the spice cabinet until he found something to add. Grabbing the red container he assumed was cayenne, he shook some in the soup and mixed it together.
The smell of it wafting up hit his nostrils and he was ready to die for it if necessary. There were never a food that tasted so good to him. Not since the cinnamon rolls the day before had he been so nuts about the flavor of something. Before he knew it, the entire bowl was empty, licked clean.
His irritation at the math alleviated with the completion of the single most annoying problem, he smiled contentedly at the rest. After the one he had finished, the others were relatively simple. A quick turn here, an estimate there and he was through. With a final look over, he smiled and put the finished homework in the folder. The folder went in his backpack before being hung off the back of the chair.
Yawning, he stood up and headed for bed, turning off the kitchen light along the way. He stopped in the living room. Glancing about the empty room, he sighed, good mood suddenly evaporating. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out the remote and turned off the television. Another glance about the completely empty house, then he went up to bed.
(ooooooo)
The setting that greeted him the following morning in the library after being ambushed by Willow outside the school and dragged in was not what he had expected. Buffy was dressed like Susie Homemaker, serving soda and donuts, tea to Giles and a diet soda to Ms. Calendar. What made him think something evil and hideous had taken over his slayer friend was the fact she smiled at him warmly and offered him a cookie.
Accepting it slowly, he stared wide eyed at her, subtly sniffing for booze. "Thank you, Pod Buffy. Are you feeling well this morning?" At her slight frown, he flinched and drew back.
"Sorry, Xander, yeah." Reaching up, she rubbed at the fading bruises under his hair line. Her fingers gently rubbed a soothing circle on Xander's temple. "I am really so sorry, Xander. I've been kinda slayer rage bitch this past week. There is no excuse for it except, um, there is no excuse."
Still feeling majorly weirded out, he allowed himself to be drawn in to the room. Eyeing her carefully, he let her push him down in a chair. It was still in the yellow, but if she talked about converting him or him sleeping, he was going to scream like a little girl, pride be damned. "I understand that, but what about the outfit?"
Glancing down at the pink uniform, she sighed. "Um, I got some bad news. Snyder caught me coming in early with the donuts."
"Let me guess, he took all the jelly filled and stuck his finger in the center of the cream donut?" Xander really prayed he was right.
"Close. He took the jelly, but left the cream one unmolested only after I threatened to remove his little troll doll balls. Which was a moment of major Ew!" She shuddered for dramatic effect much to the amusement of all involved. Getting out the untouched cream donut, she set it in front of Xander along with another cookie. "Anyways, he wouldn't believe I was just running an errand of good will, which I totally was. Xander, this is an apology breakfast. I tried making the cookies last night, let's just say I have a whole new appreciation for mom's snicker doodle recipe.
"Giles, you will be happy to note I slayed all eleven or so dozen with deadly precision," she said with a smile to her Watcher. "Back to the weasel. He told me that since I had so much free time on my hands, I wouldn't mind volunteering to cater the school talent show this year. So not only do we have to come up with a skit, I have to serve the milk and cookies to those suck ups who actually volunteered." At the glance shared between Xander and Willow, she sighed. "Right, no one volunteers if they can help it. Damn you, Snyder!"
"Yes, well, as amusing as we all find this, I am afraid I have some rather bad news." Adjusting his glasses and setting down his tea cup, Giles stood up from the table. Moving to stand at the head so that he could grab things when necessary, he turned to Xander. "Welcome back, Xander, I am glad you felt comfortable enough around us once more. I am sure it was trying for you, having the memories of your recent possession and all."
"What memories?" This earned him four very concerned looks. Feeling like odd man out again, he groaned. "Okay, I am going to sound like a complete head case, but what was I possessed by this time? Last time I didn't remember, so why would now be any different?"
"You really can't recall?"
"Uh, no." Now he was certain this was an episode of the twilight zone.
"Oh dear." Adjusting his glasses, Giles frowned. This was not at all what he had been expecting and that did not bode well. Perhaps his books had a better explanation. "Well, from what I have learned, everyone who bought a costume at Ethan's shop was possessed by whatever their costume was. Buffy became a noble woman, Willow became a ghost..."
"Cordelia became a bitch. Ooops, my mistake, that wasn't the costume." Buffy grumbled, her anger from the past couple days returning. When no one spoke, she looked up at Giles. "What?"
"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, those who purchased and wore their costumes, were taken over by the personalities engendered within them. Whoever, or should I say, whatever you were should have left some form of memory mark on your psyche." When he finished, he expected to see a reaction on Xander's face. Blank disbelief was not that reaction. "I can't understand why this hasn't happened with you. Perhaps you are repressing them."
"Nope, I'd know if I was repressing anything." Well he would, repressing was something he was good at. Like the feeling to get the hell out of there, he was repressing that one beautifully. He didn't feel comfortable around these people, not anymore. As a matter of fact, that repression just got repealed.
"There has to be some form of explanation for this, Xander. You can't just have forgotten whatever had taken control. Those memories are now a part of... Where are you going?" Giles was confounded. The boy had gone from calm to pale and panicky in a heart beat. Now he was following him towards the door. "Xander?"
He didn't respond, just drew his back pack tighter. Xander hit the doors so hard they swung back and hit is bag. He heard something fall from it but couldn't be bothered to care what. It wasn't important, he could replace it later.
Giles stood transfixed, staring where Xander had left. After a moment, his thoughts cleared enough to allow him reasoning again. He stared down where he saw something fall from the boy's backpack. Frowning, he bent over and picked it up.
"What is it, Giles? Did we do something wrong?" Coming up to stand beside her Watcher, Buffy undid the apron strings on her hostess uniform.
"No, we did nothing wrong at all." Studying the container, he held it up for everyone to see. "As for what it is, it's a spice bottle, Cinnamon to be precise."
"Geeze, I heard of addictions, but Cinnamon is strange even for the hellmouth." Snorting, Buffy took the spice from Giles. She walked back to the table and set it in the center of the donuts and cookies. "Why would he be carrying this around with him?" On a hunch, she picked it up, uncapped it and tasted the spice. "Whoa! That's pretty strong!" She coughed a little and put the lid back on. "Mom has some of that in the cabinet at home, it's pure cinnamon sticks, uncut. High grade addiction."
"Well now we know what it is, only question is why." Jenny, who had been silent until now thought on what they had told her. "Buffy, what did you mean he was addicted to Cinnamon?"
"Just exactly as I said. Take for instance day before yesterday. During lunch, he scarffed down five, may be six Cinnamon rolls. He acted like they were the greatest thing in the world, even cut in line to get at them." Still looking at the bottle, she shook her head. "That isn't the Xander I know. He isn't a spice freak, there's seriously something wrong with him."
"Spice? Cinnamon. This sounds familiar." Frowning in concentration, she tried to recall what exactly about it triggered her memory. When nothing came, she looked up at Giles and shook her head. "I'm drawing a blank. Can't remember what, but I know I know this."
Willow watched all of this with growing horror. Something was wrong with Xander, her Xander.
(ooooooo)
By the time he realized what it was he had lost, Xander was ready to kill something. The craving for the spice was already making his hands shake. He was in the middle of third period and wasn't sure he would make it through another. His body began to twinge inside, causing him to wince.
Glancing up at the clock, he groaned in disappointment, it hadn't even been a minute since he last looked. Thinking desperately, he realized there might be something with cinnamon in his bag. He couldn't have been stupid enough only to grab the spice jar this morning. There had to have been more in there.
Xander grabbed his bag from the floor beside his chair and began to riffle through it. He was in study hall so there was no one beside himself to worry about with all the noise. When he couldn't find anything, he stuck his nose in the bag to search. The bag smelled of cinnamon, but only so much as the trace left from harboring the bottle inside.
Letting the bag drop to the floor beside his chair, he took a deep breath. The smell of cinnamon seductively filled his nostrils. Immediately, he zeroed in on the source. Three seats down, two rows back, chewing gum. It took him a moment to realize he was staring, another moment to realize who he was staring at.
Larry was glaring at him in return.
Facing front again, Xander nervously tapped his hands on the arm rests. When he felt safe again, he glanced over his shoulder. Larry had given up glaring at him and was back to chewing his gum, Xander noted. Feeling a bold streak coming on, he knew what he had to do. He got up from his chair slowly as not to arouse the suspicions of others.
Sliding out of the row, he made his way to the row behind Larry. He slid in the chair behind Larry and put his bag down. Xander smiled when Larry glared at him again. Leaning forward, he cleared his throat and asked softly, "do you have another piece of gum I can have?"
"No, now fuck off." Larry nearly growled over his shoulder.
It was the wrong thing to say. Xander, in a moment of crazed need for something so close, grabbed the other boy by the shoulders and hauled him back. His hands given the strength of desperate madness easily deflected Larry's shocked blocking.
Larry opened his mouth to ask Xander what the fuck he thought he was doing only to find Xander's mouth on his own, tongue shoved down his throat.
Xander sucked on the jock's mouth, trying to fight his tongue to get at the piece of gum. He rolled his head in slow circles to allow his tongue more room to maneuver, going over every surface of Larry's mouth. Subconsciously he cataloged the different tastes, but his goal was the cinnamon flavored gum. It was growing time to breathe, but his need for the spice was more urgent. Finally, at the back of Larry's mouth, on the edge of his throat, Xander struck pay dirt. Sucking his prize in, he let go of Larry and sucked on the gum with a sound of appreciation.
Laying there with his upper body hanging over the edge of the chair, Larry blinked, stunned. His mouth hung open, gasping for breath. He was also harder than he had ever been in his life. By the time he came around to notice they were the center of attention, the bell rang.
Not wanting to get caught up in a hail of questions, Xander grabbed his bag and rushed from the room, shoving Jonathan in to a gaggle of air heads. The little man would forgive him, he just gave him an excuse to cop a feel. The hall wasn't much better, people were packed in there like a log jam.
He pushed his way through the students and headed for the library. Fourth period would have to wait until he got his cinnamon back. Moving quickly towards his goal, Xander began to plan his attack. There was a good chance that Giles would be on the alert, so he would have to create a distraction.
Snatching the rubber ball from a random kid's hand, he stalked for the library ignoring the kid's cry. Outside the door, he surveyed the scene through the glass window. Giles was at the book return desk, a large stack of books beside him, his spice jar was on the table in plain view. Smiling, Xander pushed open the door and tossed the ball with deadly accuracy at the books.
The books went flying off the desk and Giles bent over to grab them as they fell. Unfortunately for him they were too many and he was only one and they took him down with him. When he climbed to his feet, the door the library doors were already swinging shut. Whoever it had been was already gone.
Glancing down at his books, he glowered. If he got his hands on whoever owned the ball that was just now coming to a rest at his feet, he would kill them. The doors flew open again as he bent down to pick it and the books up. Standing quickly to catch who this was, he slapped his hands on the book return with an "Ah Ha!"
Unfortunately, this sent his books falling back down and the ball shooting off in to his library.
Mark caught his ball as it shot at his head. Smiling, he waved at Giles. "Thanks, I thought he lost it!"
"Who's he?"
"Xander Harris. Freak came by and snatched my ball." Walking out with a snort, Mark rolled his eyes.
"Xander?" Giles glanced to the table still partially covered in bakery boxes and frowned. It was still untouched, except for the Cinnamon. The spice was gone.