Enter the Geek

This was a geeks room. The old bookshelf was filled with VHS tapes of Star Trek, Star Wars, X-Files, Labyrinth, Back to the Future, other cult classics, and a variety of Asian movies. In tall stacks around the carpeted floor were comic books of the X-Men, Avengers, Spider-Man, Fantastic Four, Thor, Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, the Justice League, a random mix of obscure characters, and swimsuit editions of Sports Illustrated. Equally stacked on his withered desk and nightstand were trading cards of all his favorite comic characters, board games like Wheel of Fortune, Clue, Hungry Hungry Hippos, Monopoly, and Dungeons & Dragons.

Old posters of curvaceous women—real or drawn—hung on the stained walls like the atmosphere in the room was too muggy for the paper. His trash can was filled to the brim with waste and had a trail of ants commuting in and out of the heap. Old, worn, small, and large action figures of his favorite characters littered any surface they could stand on. The clothes that he didn’t bother folding and putting away were in piles that may be clean, dirty, or both. It was the stale room of an affectionate geek who didn’t care.

Xander Harris was lying on his unkempt bed when his old alarm blared loud enough to wake the dead. Not unlike most teenagers his age, he hit the snooze button and attempted to return to a dream world where all the girls loved him whether they were famous actresses like Gillian Anderson or Tiffani Amber Thiessen, models like Cindy Crawford, his close friend & reigning unrequited love Buffy Summers, his teacher Ms. Calendar, or if he’s really desperate, his nemesis Cordelia Chase. The last beauty woke him up. He hated Cordelia, however, looking at his morning wood pitching a stern tent in his boxers, he couldn’t deny she was one attractive woman.

With a frustrated groan, Xander forced himself out of bed, turned on his old tube television, and kept the cartoons rolling while he showered. He took delicate care of his daily stiffy to a picture of Kelly Kapowski from Saved by the Bell—twice—then quickly dressed for the day before his little soldier came back up.

Picking up an open bag of potato chips from the dirty carpet, Xander happily proclaimed, “mnn, breakfast of champs,” before stuffing a few comics in his backpack and leaving his messy nerd den.

He checked on his parents in their room and found only his mother lying face-first on her bed. She only managed to take one shoe off and had an empty bottle of liquor on the floor under her dangling hand. When Xander rolled her over and tucked her in, the powerful smell of the local dive bar she went to permeated his nostrils. Xander found his father asleep in the living room with the television still on and simply let him be. He was careful not to step on any of the cans of beer on the stained floor on his way out of his two-story home.

Xander missed the school bus, but he knew how to use public transportation. Though he hated the weirdos and homeless on the metro, he made it to Sunnydale High without trouble. The school day fell on Halloween and the school embraced taping orange paper pumpkins, cartoon-ish monsters, fall-colored balloons & streamers everywhere; in every hall, over every water fountain, on every door, and even in the bathrooms. Xander used to enjoy how festive Sunnydale became during Halloween, that was until he learned all those monsters were real and eager to kill humans.

Like any male student, the only reason Xander was looking forward to Halloween—aside from all the free candy he could pull—was ogling all the hot girls dressed in sluttier outfits. Gorgeous girls in tight Halloween costumes with low necklines and higher skirts that intentionally exposed more skin. He wouldn’t be able to afford anything good to wear for himself, but that didn’t matter so long as the girls dressed up.

The school was crowded as ever and he had to weave around others in the wide halls to get through, but Xander was all smiles when he met his best friends. They were observing Principal Snyder forcing students to volunteer for the Safe and Sane Halloween program to take kids trick-or-treating. Naturally, the trio did not welcome the idea. Buffy, Willow, and Xander wanted to spend their much-needed holiday having fun together.

As Giles told them a few days ago, ‘Halloween is t-typically a slow night for the forces of evil, so, I can’t foresee a problem.’ A night without hunting vampires, near-death experiences, curses, or tedious research was music to their ears. However, Principal Snyder didn’t care about their possible plans. The miniature balding man with the resting sneer-face stopped them before they could escape his field of authority and forced the trio to volunteer.

“Tossing eggs, keying cars, bobbing for apples,” Snyder coldly accused them with judgmental eyes. “One pathetic cry for help after another. Well, not this year,” he huffed before forcing them to join and explaining costumes were mandatory.

At the student lounge, the three lamented wasting away half of their night chaperoning children, when Xander stepped away from his friends to buy a drink from the vending machine. He was inserting quarters when Larry came up to him. Xander’s known the larger jock since middle school and couldn’t stand him or his natural physical gifts of life. Strong, fast, handsome, popular, everything Xander wanted, and if that weren’t enough, the blond brawny wanted Buffy as well. Like a dog desperate for a bone, Larry wanted to ask Xander for salacious details about one of his best friends.

“I heard she was fast,” he said with a lecherous smirk while leering in Buffy’s direction.

Like a flipped switch, Xander lost all sense of humor despite replying, “I hope you mean, as in like the wind.”

His large blond head turned to Xander and perversely insinuated with a grin, “you know what I mean.”

Before Xander even realized what he was doing, he grabbed the man’s expensive lapels. “That’s it! You don’t talk about my friends like that.”

Amused, the larger man looked down at Xander’s shaking fists gripping his shirt, and asked with a grin, “Yeah? What are you going to do about it?”

Xander truly tried to push the 6’2 boy into the soda machine, but the heavier Larry barely moved. The blond jock snorted at the pathetic attempt before cocking his fist back, ready to deck the wincing Xander when Buffy casually stepped between them. With barely any strength at all, the blonde Slayer grabbed Larry’s fist before it hit Xander’s face, effortlessly twisted his arm, making the man turn to avoid the worst of the pain. She pinned his arm behind his back and shoved him into the vending machine, making him groan in pain.

As if he was so beneath her, she simply told him, “Get gone.”

She let him go and the humiliated jock rushed away gripping his hurting hand, only adding to the shame welling within Xander. To be saved by Buffy from vampires was one thing, but to be saved by a girl in the middle of the student lounge for all to see simply made him feel pitiful. Xander just stood there, aghast as Buffy cooed over a free diet coke that dropped from the vending machine.

He finally turned to her with resigned disbelief and asked, “Do you know what you just did?”

Tilting her head, a bit unsure, she asked, “Saving a dollar?”

“Larry was about to pummel me,” Xander answered with an annoyed edge to his tone.

Assuming he was grateful, Buffy just waved it off as if it were nothing, casually telling him, “Oh, that. Forget about it.”

Feeling angrier, Xander hotly contested, “Maybe I will. In fifteen or twenty years when my rep for being a sissy-man finally fades.”

Realizing where the irritation was coming from, Buffy tried to atone, calling, “Xander-”

But he swiftly interrupted, “A black eye heals, Buffy. But cowardice has a nearly unlimited shelf-life.” Xander hated cowardice. Oftentimes he’d look at his parents, observe how they’ve given up making anything of their lives, and vow to never end up like them. It’s an additional incentive to fight the forces of evil because he would much rather get pummeled by a vampire than be too scared to even approach them.

Buffy seemed surprised he was taking something so trivial, so serious, encouraging him to sarcastically finish, “But thanks. Thanks for your help.” He stomped off, leaving Willow and Buffy to share a look of concern.

With a hint of remorse, Buffy confessed, “I think I just violated a major guy code.”

Willow shook her head with sympathy, replying, “Poor Xander. Boys are so fragile.” They then moved to the couches as a bubbly Willow quickly wanted to know, “Speaking of, how was your date last night?”

Xander sludged through the school day, trying hard to show Buffy how upset he was, though she didn’t seem to notice as much as he would’ve wished. Buffy and Willow were talking about stuff he couldn’t hear until he heard Angel’s name, then it made him doubly angry. He pulled out a comic book and ignored them for hours, until he couldn’t stand being ignored any longer, and joined them when they went costume shopping after school.

The trio of friends entered Ethan’s Costume Shoppe since it was a new Halloween-only store and posted clearance signs on the windows. Though the smallish store was cozy, it wasn’t organized. Many costumes hung off the wall or were piled in boxes. Xander couldn’t afford much, if anything. He felt lucky to have found a quarter on the way to the shop; less of his own money he has to fork over. Avoiding the monster costumes, as he’s developed an aversion to their existence, Xander was perusing the aisles for the cheapest items he might buy.

The shop’s inventory seemed focused more on classical costumes; zookeeper, cheerleader, little red riding hood, pirates, cowboy, nuns, nurse, doctor, ghosts, police officers, soldier, referee, scarecrow, hippies, all sorts of animals, a variety of other tame outfits, and to his disappointment, absolutely no slutty or depraved costumes. There wasn’t a single skimpy or tight dress in the entire store for girls to wear.

He grabbed a toy gun from the bargain bin and quickly paid the suave-looking thin Englishman with gelled back hair. Unlike the part-timers, he wore a tan dress shirt unbuttoned at the top and Xander assumed he was the owner. Usually, he expected to deal with part-timers, not the owner. Still, now that he had the man there, Xander couldn’t stop the impulse in him to ask, “It’s your store and all, but have you considered changing the name from Ethan’s Costume Shoppe to Prudes-R-Us? I mean, how are you planning to compete when even the barmaid outfit goes down to the ankles?”

“Young man, there are many of us in this world that still find value in decorum and respect for one’s modest appearance,” Xander immediately noted the English accent, making the owner the second he’s met from England. As Ethan brought out a box cutter from his back pocket to open a box of merchandise, Xander noted the man was much more suave than Giles but in a creepier sort of way. In his English accent, he finished, “I suggest you mature sooner rather than later, before the truly lovely ladies leave you behind.”

Xander rolled his eyes, already disregarding the advice before turning to the door. He considered leaving his friends behind as an act of protest. He wanted them to acknowledge his pain, however, he was nearly out the door, and, once again, they seemed oblivious to his suffering. Worse yet, it was difficult for him to stay angry at Buffy for long. It felt wrong in his bones. He’s felt that way with Willow once or twice. The thought of them ignoring or forgetting him unsettled him to his core, so he walked over to them and quickly felt better. Willow asked what he had bought, and he pulled out the toy gun before explaining having army fatigues at home.

“Hey, Xander, about this morning,” Buffy started. “I’m really sorry.”

Looking into her gorgeous eyes, Xander tried not to be so easily swayed, but he felt such a rush of validation and gratitude for her apology. Rather than bending too easily, he replied, “Do you mind, Buffy? I’m trying to repress.”

Smirking at his snark, Buffy leaned into his arm, looked up into his eyes, and hypnotized him with her overwhelming beauty. “I promise I’ll let you get pummeled from now on,” she sang, and Xander felt his heart completely melt.

Breaking into a wide smile, Xander deflated in giddy defeat, expressing, “Thank you. Okay. Actually, I think I could have taken him-” Xander’s assertion of his physical ability was cut short when Buffy focused her attention on something else and slowly walked away. Craning his neck as if spurned, Xander asked, “Hello? That was our touching reconciliation you just left.”

She vaguely mumbled an apology before looking at an amazing 18th-century gown costume in an adjacent showroom. Buffy and Willow were entranced by the gorgeous outfit, but Xander preferred spandex. In the end, the stuffy owner, Ethan, easily convinced Buffy to buy the bulky dress before they all went home to change. From the well-worn brown couch in the messy living room of his house, his parents paid more attention to the television than their son when he informed them of where he’d be. When they said nothing, he simply left.

Dressed out in his army costume with his toy gun in hand, Xander was ready for a fun night. In Buffy’s two-story home, the young teen was shocked and immediately aroused at the amazing sight of a brunette Buffy in her garnet red 18th-century noble gown that showed ample cleavage. Xander instantly knew this look will be prevalent in his fantasies for the foreseeable future. Walking down the stairs, Willow’s white ghost costume was less shocking. The cute redhead wore a simple white bed sheet covering her entire body with the word ‘Boo’ written on it, but he couldn’t deny that’s why he loved her. Her consistency was always peace-inducing.

As it happens in Sunnydale, their Halloween night did not turn out to be a peaceful one. After Xander picked up the kiddies at school, scoped out a few of the hotter moms, and spent an hour appropriating all the candy in the festive suburban neighborhood, he suddenly lost all control of his own body. He felt as if his feet slipped and he was falling backward, only he landed in a chair, then strapped into a harness. He could still see everything that was happening around him, but he couldn’t control his body, his speech, or even his thoughts. Worse yet, he could barely feel his body, as if all his senses were numb.

Xander truly began to panic when he felt another mind within his mind, or possibly his mind within another mind. He was almost glad for the invisible harness holding his consciousness down because he can’t tell where he ends, and this other consciousness begins. The alien memories and experiences of being a soldier crammed into Xander’s mind without his consent and faster than he could make sense of. The sudden invasion made him want to throw up, but he couldn’t feel his stomach to do so. It was like two minds stuffed in a single brain, affording Xander the knowledge of what the rigid Soldier he dressed as was thinking and why.

The Soldier was dropped into was chaos in a suburban neighborhood, but even in his panic, he assessed the situation. No less than thirty civilians were scurrying every which way on the street. Two many people were running and he couldn’t immediately tell if he was in immediate danger or not. Some of the people were normal in appearance and were running in fear. Others were the ones doing the chasing, and they looked like horrible monsters, werewolves, vampires, and demons of every color, size, and variety. None were after him at the moment, however, the alert Soldier drew his weapon in attentive anticipation.

His heart was pumping and his breathing was fast and loud in his ears. Any monster who got too close, the Soldier would shoot at and they’d run away. Feeling the Soldier repressing his fear and doubt, Xander felt grateful when the invading persona didn’t shoot Willow when she rushed up to him. Xander had never imagined Willow wearing such risqué fashion; a leather miniskirt, stockings, a tight long-sleeved top with a low V-neckline, and a black choker around her lithe neck. Xander didn’t hate it in the slightest.

His suddenly sexy best friend pleaded with the Soldier, “Xander! Listen to me. I’m on your side, I swear. Something crazy is happening. I was dressed as a ghost for Halloween and now I am a ghost. You were supposed to be a soldier, and now, I guess you’re a real soldier.”

The Soldier skeptically replied, “You expect me to believe that?”

Before she could respond, a little vampire emerged from the bushes several yards away, growling at them. It was like one of the targets at a shooting gallery in a carnival and Soldier-Xander aimed at it, but Willow quickly jumped in front of him.

“No!” She yelled. “No guns. That’s still a little kid in there!”

The Soldier watched the little vampire chase after someone else as insisted, “But-”

Willow cut him off sternly, pointing a finger at him and ordering with authority, “No guns! That’s an order.”

From within his mind, Xander was begging the Soldier to listen to her, and thankfully he did. Harnessed in his mental prison from which he couldn’t escape, Xander was forced to watch everything that happened around the Soldier. He saw them find Buffy, watched his super-strong hero faint at the sight of a demon, then the three of them hide in her home, to then realizing that Buffy—like himself—was changed into the persona of their costume.

His blonde friend was no longer the Slayer, but an 18th-century lady-in-waiting. Xander observed the Soldier saving Cordelia in her deliciously tight catsuit, followed by Angel showing up, then fighting a group of demons from entering her home. At the sight of Angel’s vampiric face, a frightful Buffy ran away in horror, forcing them to chase after her before she ended up hurt or killed. Xander witnessed in euphoric glory when the Soldier punched the pirate-costumed Larry unconscious. It was the most satisfying part of the night’s nightmare, and Xander thought the soldier felt a little of that sensation.

After finally tracking Buffy to a factory stacked with wood crates, the Soldier and Angel were beat and held down by Spike’s goons while the blond leader was taunting the frightened Lady Buffy. Xander was fighting the harness, terrified the vicious blond vampire was going to kill the woman he loved more than anyone in front of him. He struggled mightily against the invisible harness restraining his consciousness, yelling, and begging the invading persona to save her. To Xander’s great surprise, it was the Soldier, not Angel, that fought off the demons holding him.

Willow quickly pointed at Spike and directed, “Now, that guy you can shoot!”

The Soldier grabbed and raised his M-16 assault rifle, ready to open fire on Spike, which Xander would’ve been thrilled to see, but suddenly the invisible harness restraining him let go. He flowed up for a second and he was back in full control of his body, holding a toy gun again and unable to fire anything.

“What the…” Xander asked in confusion. Demons were now children once again and confused about where they were, and Buffy quickly beat Spike back with a vicious combination. Two quick strikes to the chest and one to the face sent him flying back. He landed on the ground before looking for a weapon to equalize the brawl.

Gripping a metal pole, Spike came roaring back with a swing that Buffy caught bare-handed; the sound of which was loud and solid. Gripping his wrist with her other hand, she spun her body and flipped him over her shoulder onto the edge of a wooden crate, back first. Spike rushed to his feet and fled to fight another day.

“Hey, Buff,” Xander stated, rushing up and thrilled to see her again. “Welcome back.”

“Yeah,” she replied with a small smile. “You, too.”

Curious, Cordelia asked, “You guys remember what happened?”

“It was way creepy,” Xander answered, recalling the disconnected feeling. “It was like I was there, but I couldn’t get out.”

“I know the feeling,” Cordelia remarked, swaying her hips as she added, “This outfit’s totally skintight.”

With a single line of concern from Angel asking the Slayer, “are you okay,” Buffy smiled affectionately at her handsome boyfriend before assuring him she was fine. They then left together. As Xander looked at the scared and confused children left behind, Cordelia—struck by Angel’s obliviousness toward her—voiced, “Hello? It felt like I was talking. My lips were moving and-”

“Give it up Cordy,” a disgruntled Xander suggested. “You’re never going to get between those two. Believe me, I know.”

After returning the frightened children to their parents at school, Xander walked home, regretting not having asked Cordelia for a ride in her brand-new BMW. As he is waiting for the bus, the young teen entertained himself by sifting through the memories of the Soldier’s life, from boot camp to advanced training, and then specialized training in military ordnance. He could recall army tactical manuals, their outline for recruit training, and standard operating procedures for rifle security. He knew where the military base near Sunnydale was, who commanded it, and even how to get on base if he wanted.

It was a surreal experience, to say the least, and Xander thought about that when he went to sleep that night. It was weird having more knowledge circling his mind than he’s ever had before; knowledge that wasn’t even geek culture related. Mulling over some of the places this soldier has traveled to almost made Xander consider joining the army, but the thought of leaving his friends felt akin to dying of stage four lung cancer, which wasn’t a choice at all. If Buffy needed him, and Xander wasn’t there, he’d never be able to forgive himself.

As he went to sleep, Xander threw the Soldier’s memories and experiences to the wayside of his mind in favor of cheesy erotic fantasies featuring Buffy in her 18th-century red dress and begging him with wanton eyes to take it off of her; then of Willow in her sexy rocker look asking him to rip her clothes off of her; then a fantasy of Cordelia demanding he peel the tight catsuit off of her; then Amy Yip in the water park slide asking him for help taking whatever she was wearing off, and an endless amount of depraved sexy dreams until morning.

Xander woke up the next morning to his blaring alarm. He got ready and momentarily wondered why the same Mighty Max episode was on. In the privacy of his bathroom, he rubbed a few out to Kelly Kapowski and CJ from Baywatch, found his parents in the exact spot they were the day before, then went to school. Backpack slung over one shoulder, Xander was weaving through the crowded Halloween-decorated hallway, curious as to why they were still up as he looked for his friends. His confusion only grew when he spotted Willow and Buffy watching Snyder force students into chaperoning kids for trick-or-treating.

Stopping behind his friends, a baffled Xander remarked, “Okay, I’m either having the most Twilight Zone-y case of Déjà vu imaginable, or… I honestly can’t think of anything else that would explain this.”

“That can’t be,” Willow told him. “It’s the first time Snyder was in charge of volunteering.”

“Yeah, that’s not what I meant,” Xander slowly voiced. “Didn’t we do this already? Like yesterday?”

“You mean Halloween? Or Volunteering?”

Xander was beginning to panic when Snyder came over, voicing in his nasally tone, “Ms. Summers. Just the juvenile delinquent I’ve been looking for.”

Xander heard Buffy respond, “Principal Snyder,” just as he had the day before.

Even when the abominable mini-man told his friend, “Halloween must be a big night for you, huh? Tossing eggs. Keying cars. Bobbing for apples. One pathetic cry for help after another. Well. Not this year, missy.” Xander was certain that’s exactly what he said the day before. His head sank, pondering with as many brain cells as he could muster why everything felt like it’s happened already. Then, in the student lounge, rather than walking over to the soda machine, Larry called his name and tilted his head, asking him to talk.

Xander was less mad and more confused at the large, meaty man when he once again asked how easy Buffy was to sleep with. The raven-haired teen looked around, confused, as if he was the center of a prank everyone was playing on him. Even still, when it dawned on Xander what Larry repeated, the anger in him sprang back up. Unable to allow the meathead to talk about his friend like that two days in a row, Xander fiercely grabbed the man’s lapels, and just like the day before, Buffy saved him from getting punched in the face.

After Larry rushed away, Xander was looking at Buffy like she was crazy, prompting her to ask, “What?”

Pointing to that whole general area, a mildly loony Xander asked, “You didn’t notice that? What you just did?”

She cutely quirked her brow before waving it off, adding, “Oh, don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about- Buffy, doesn’t that seem, oh, I don’t know, a tad on the familiar side?” Buffy returned a look of puzzlement before smiling, cracking open her soda and patting him on the shoulder.

It was the beginning of a very strange day for Xander. By the time his mind was hijacked by the soldier once again, Xander was certain this was the longest Déjà vu imaginable. Even if a few things happened differently, like Buffy never apologizing for stepping in between a man’s fight, everything else mostly stayed the same. After spacing out the entire time Cordelia and himself were dropping the kids off with their parents, Xander went to sleep, certain that whatever whackadoo Hellmouthy weirdness he experienced that day would be gone come morning.

Xander awoke like he typically did, shutting off the obnoxiously loud alarm and rearranging his morning wood so it didn’t hurt. He then blinked in recollection of yesterday’s longest Déjà vu. With an equal mix of curiosity and fear, he rushed to the tube TV and felt his stomach sink while his heart pounded even harder in his chest when he saw the same episode of Mighty Max on. He rushed to his parents and found them exactly in the same spot as the previous days. In his crowded school, the hallways were still decorated for Halloween, Snyder still forced the Scoobies to volunteer, and Buffy still saved him from Larry’s assault.

The only time Xander came out of his crippling bewilderment was when they were at Ethan’s Costume Shop looking for costumes to wear. Observing Ethan come near Buffy and suggest the 18th-century dress for her to wear, Xander knew the man was the very reason for all the chaos that befalls their town later that night. Willow told him as much two impossibly similar days in a row, and he always trusted Willow for the answers.

Buffy was about to buy the 18th Century dress when an agitated Xander accused Ethan in front of his friends, “You’re going to use a spell tonight that’s going to turn everyone into the costume they bought here, aren’t you?” Ethan, Buffy, and Willow were stunned by both the directness of Xander’s accusation and randomness of the accusation itself, especially when he swiftly told Buffy, “If you wear that tonight, you’ll actually become an 18th Century Lady because this guy cursed all the costumes in his store!”

For a moment, no one said anything, then Ethan chuckled, turning to the Slayer before swiftly taking a box cutter out of his back pocket and stabbing Xander in the chest in one fluid motion with a wet THUD. The girls were in complete shock as Ethan ran, and Xander slowly looked at the box cutter sticking out of his chest. It was hard to fathom that there was a sharp metal object shoved into his chest, then the pumping of his heart hurt sharply. He heard screaming, then suddenly the room’s geometry rotated until he was looking at the ceiling. A weeping Willow rushed into his view, tears streaming down her pretty face, and calling his name, but he couldn’t hear too well anymore.

Xander wondered why he couldn’t see Buffy as the sound of his rapid heartbeat filled his ears. He wanted to see Buffy and tried to get up, but his arms weren’t moving like he wanted them to. He tilted his head to see a struggle by the door of the store. Through the racks, he can faintly recognize Buffy’s shoes. He always did love how stylish she dressed. Xander wanted to say goodbye to her before he couldn’t anymore. He tried to hold on, but the room was getting darker. The pain was getting hotter and the blood was pooling out of him like oil. Even as the wailing and sobbing Willow was shaking him, moving the vision of the ceiling above, he couldn’t do anything to stop the darkness from consuming everything.

Buffy finally hastened into his darkening view. His beautiful super friend, his unrequited love, had some blood dots running up her cheek, as if she hit something so hard, blood splatter trailed up her face, but she was finally looking at him with so much love and fear in her eyes. Her tears were welling up, but she was even more beautiful, and that’s all he wanted. That was enough for him. Xander let the darkness blind him until the dull hurting finally stopped.

When Xander woke up the following morning to the same blaring alarm, the same jutting hard-on, the same Mighty Max cartoon, and no box cutter blade in his heaving chest, the bewildered teenager couldn’t stop from yelling, “What the actual fuckery!”