Exponential Growth.

“What the fuck is going on!” Xander yelled with all the seriousness of a heart attack.

His room was clean and smelled delightful. No other room in his two-story house smelled better than his. And yet, overnight, his room became a pigsty again; with clutter, comics, and clothes everywhere. The funk assaulting his nostrils may as well have been toxic.

“This can’t be Halloween,” Xander trembled to question.

He was incapable of finding any humor in this. Xander spent an entire week making progress every day. It was blissful. He had a clean room by the second day. He paid attention in class, avoided dying, and didn’t disrupt any of his friends by telling them their future. Xander even scheduled a time to fix the leak above his ceiling with the carpentry skills he gained from Old-Man Xander. Adding weight training at the school gym to the cardio he was doing would’ve been the next step.

To then lose all of that progress after getting out, Xander felt homicidal. He wanted to kill something, however, he held it in. He had to hold it in. Even the mental patterns of Sherlock, Achilles, and Casanova counseled restraint. It would be too easy to snap, and taking out all his anger on buildings or people would not help him get out. He swallowed his growing rage and got ready for school.

When Xander entered the busy halls of Sunnydale, the monster decorations, Snyder’s bullying students to chaperone, and Buffy and Willow’s conversation about Angel reinforced he was back. It was all like a kick to the ribs and a fat spit in the eye. Simmering on irate all day, Xander didn’t chaperone any kids or buy an outfit at Ethan’s Costume Shoppe. He did, however, help save 18th-century Buffy, endearing the noble lady to him instead of Angel. When the possessed Buffy held onto him for safety, the thrill—heightened only by how much it annoyed Angel—made him forget his anger for a moment. He fought off the familiar vampires and demons with a bat, like a seasoned expert; which was easy, as he knew how they attack.

By the following morning, Xander was not surprised he repeated the day again. When he dressed as the Soldier, he looped back to Halloween. When he dressed as Achilles, Sherlock, and even Casanova, Xander repeated the day, surprising him. He ended the night at Jenny’s, as he’s done before, only, this time, he had said nothing when they were done. The teen simply went to sleep.

He pondered and dwelled on the differences. Pacing around his room, he said to himself, “…I didn’t stand up for myself with Jenny, so I looped back.” Scratching his neck as he mustered up all his average brainpower, he also remarked, “I didn’t promise to do better after Old-Man Xander, so I loop back.” He thought about it a few times before he understood, “That’s the trigger. It is internal.”

Xander went straight to work. Locking Sherlock in a room at the Motor Inn again, the obsessive detective came up with a genius theory. Observing all the evidence taped to the walls of the motel room, including the addition of making it nearly seven days before looping back, Xander didn’t want to believe Sherlock’s findings. His heart was hammering in his chest at the section of the wall Sherlock wrote his theory on. Though he was happy the pieces of this confusing time-prison felt like they were coming together, he dreaded the findings.

Fish-eying the writing on the wall with growing fear, Xander read what Sherlock wrote repeatedly. He proposed that if Xander got out of the Halloween loop, and no one died, there would be a second or possibly final barrier to get through; a one-week loop. Using the exponential growth and decay formula and plugging in the values to calculate the percentage of growth, the genius determined the dates where additional barriers would be if they should happen to exist.

Fixated on the three long formulas written on the wall, Xander read the potential loop after the week. “753 hours is… 31.37500 days. A month loop!” Staring at the breakdown of the exponential growth for the second formula with concern, he weakly voiced, “9,496.29717 hours… that’s… that’s a little over a y-year l-loop.” Looking at the third potential date of a barrier, Xander couldn’t even voice the three-year loop that was calculated.

Xander wanted to throw up. He did throw up, loudly, in the bathroom for twenty minutes.

In the dingy motel room of the Motor Inn, the shivering Xander rested both palms against the completely tatted wall, leaning all his weight on them. The wall held him up as his depressed head sank low in the face of all the detailed math written from the top of the beige wall to the bottom. The value of time, the initial value of hours, the growth rate percentage, and the time in discrete intervals all told Xander he needed to make it a month to know if he made it out of this vicious time loop, or if this vicious prison really went on for years.

“Fuck me,” he cursed with no life in him.

Already, he was loathing the idea. An entire month of living life just to waste all that progress and start over was nauseating. Xander felt weak, but after ten minutes of silence, he lifelessly got to work. Looping again, Xander decided on the Jenny route, as it felt like the safest bet. Being Old-Man Xander might require him to tell his friends about their futures, which could lead to unpredictable outcomes, such as being mauled to death by vampires. Or worse; leading one of his friends to make a mistake and dying, sending him right back. Xander didn’t want unpredictability. He had to test the week-loop, hope to pass it on the first try, then embarking on a month-long test. He needed to control as much as he could.

After wonderfully distracting sex with Jenny, and telling her exactly what he said the night he escaped the day-loop, Xander woke up in her room the following morning. Instantly, the teenager was over the moon and giddy with growing excitement. Standing up to the beautiful teacher, promising to do better after being Old-Man Xander—while genuinely meaning it—seem to be the triggers.

“I can get out,” he voiced to himself in bed.

Flush against him, Jenny groaned a little at his neck, and he could stop grinning. After another round of going balls-deep in Jenny, the teacher distanced herself from him again, which he understood. As much as he enjoyed sex with the gorgeous woman, he couldn’t claim to be in love with her; not with Buffy taking up residence in his heart. The raven-haired teen went the rest of the day with a sore dick and a wide grin plastered on his face.

Xander made jokes to his friends he thought he should make, traded barbs with Cordelia, deep-cleaned his room on Sunday, effortlessly & hilariously played into his physical weaknesses, and tried his best to out Ford without appearing as if he knew too much. The four days dealing with Ford’s scheme to deliver Buffy to Spike annoyed him the most, as Buffy wouldn’t believe him unless Angel doubted him as well.

Rather than meet at the Bronze like the Scoobies had the previous week-loop, Xander went to Buffy’s house first, and the friends left from there. On their way to the nightclub, he considered how Sherlock and Casanova would approach this situation; Sherlock for the logic and Casanova for the female component. He unlocked their mental patterns like clicking on a file on a computer. Sadly, the adopted mental patterns weren’t as helpful as he would’ve liked. The mental process of Sherlock felt too blunt for Buffy to take kindly, and Casanova couldn’t care less when it didn’t involve his sexual gratification.

After a bit of casual talk about school, Xander subtly mentioned, “So, I get you and Ford go way back, but I was wondering if you felt anything off with him.”

“Off?” Buffy questioned, giving him a curious look. “No. Seems pretty on to me.”

“On Shady Street, maybe,” Xander mildly jested. “Are you sure you don’t… sense anything?”

“Xander, could you please just give him a chance?” Buffy sweetly asked, tapping his shoulder with her own. “Get to know him first, then judge for yourself. Trust me, he’s a great guy.”

Feeling uncertain of how to convince her when she’s so sure, he asked, “What if he’s not? I mean, we don’t know anything more than what he said. It’s not like he’d tell us if he had an evil plan-”

Buffy stopped and stared at him as if he claimed Ford hated puppies, and repeated, “Evil plan? You don’t even know him and you already think he’s evil? Who do you think he is? The Wicked Kid of the West?”

“I just mean-”

Xander didn’t get to finish. His blonde friend walked ahead and didn’t talk to Xander for the rest of the night. Even Willow told him to give Ford a chance… that was until Angel visited her bedroom once again and asked her to investigate Ford. Willow did, and though annoyed by how easily she listened to the vampire, Xander went with them to the Sunset Club. Angel later confessed everything they learned to Buffy, who at the very least apologized to Xander for not believing him. When Xander went to the club earlier than he had in the loop before to back Buffy up, she asked him to leave.

“What? Why?” Xander quickly asked her. “I can back you up.”

“I need to talk to him alone,” she confessed. The grave determination in her bluish-green eyes and her set jaw expressed how personal this was to her. “Please, Xander. This one’s just gotta be on my own.”

Xander felt he couldn’t deny her when she was so serious, and nodded. He watched her enter the club, then waited outside for her. Not long after the sun was completely set, the young teen saw Spike and his crew walk down the alley to the club. There were ten vampires, and Spike was in the lead. Xander quickly hid behind a dumpster and watched the group enter the club before following them inside. From a safe distance, he slowly followed the noise Spike and company were making as they descended to the lowest part of the club.

When Xander heard various muffled screams, he quickly grabbed the corkscrew and fruit knife from behind the bar and rushed to the bomb shelter below. Bursting through the door, he saw Spike and Chanterelle on the stairs. Her neck was bleeding from two puncture holes and streams of tears made her mascara run down her cheeks. Below them, all the vampires were holding onto crying people who were bleeding from their necks.

“Xander!” Buffy called from his extreme right. She was holding Drusilla hostage, with a stake to her chest. He didn’t need to be told twice when Buffy yelled, “get everyone out!”

Xander called out, “Come on!” And by Spike’s leave, his men let the living innocents run out of the bunker. Meeting Willow and Angel outside was exactly how it went before, only they were surprised he came to the Sunset room first. Smirking, he explained to them, “I had a feeling she wasn’t going to meet us at the library.”

Giles and Buffy took care of vampire Ford the following night and Xander finally made it to Thursday night. As ever, Xander was so anxious, he stayed up until 2:59 in the morning. It was the longest minute of his life. Then he woke up to a blaring alarm and morning wood on Friday, the 31st of October.

“Jiminy-Motherfucking-Cricket,” he yelled, throwing the nearest action figure against the wall, smashing it to pieces.

‘Follow everyone,’ the Sherlock within promptly ordered.

Xander tried again, taking the Jenny route once more and making it to the following day. This time, he followed his friends. He began with Willow as he didn’t think she’d spot him, and Xander learned that his best friend hadn’t changed since kindergarten. When Willow had alone-time, she spent it studying in her room. After finding the best spot to surveil her bedroom window, he confirmed what he already knew about her; reading at her desk. Xander was by her house the night Angel entered her bedroom. Though he thought he might see Angel enter her bedroom, the vampire caught him first.

“Why are you stalking your friend’s house, Xander,” Angel said from behind the teenage boy.

Sensing nothing, Xander spun around in minor freight. Internally, he was mildly frightened to be caught by the smoldering vampire, however, Xander was fairly proficient at bullshitting and kept a straight face. He quickly settled down before lying with conviction, “I’m not here for Willow. I’m here for you. You’re not as mysterious as you think you are.”

“That so,” Angel casually replied, as if he wasn’t buying it.

“That is,” Xander retorted. “I knew you’d show up here. Probably to ask Willow for help to spy on Ford. Is that the putrid shade of jealousy I see rearing its ugly head?”

“I’d sooner believe you came here to ask Willow to spy on Ford yourself before I believe you had any idea of what I was thinking,” Angel replied before heading across the street and leaving Xander alone.

Xander grunted. It hurt deep in his soul to witness how undeniably cool Angel inherently seemed. Other than the stressful event of watching his best friend let Angel enter her bedroom, nothing else happened with her throughout the week. He knew it was unlikely that Willow was the deciding factor to getting out of the week loop and wasn’t surprised when he looped back. Xander used the Jenny route once again, and this time, followed Buffy.

As predicted, the hyper-aware Slayer was much harder to tail. When Buffy paid attention to her surroundings, especially on patrol, she always sensed him, even when he was thirty yards or more away. Buffy caught Xander three times, to which he played off as mere coincidences. Though, by the third time, she stared at him as if she wasn’t sure she believed him anymore. Buffy likely thought he was following her because he was jealous of Ford. Nevertheless, she sent him away each time.

After three week-loops of tailing his unrequited love, Xander wasn’t making much progress with Buffy and diverted his attention to Ford instead. Following the unfairly handsome teenager Tuesday night led Xander to what he assumed was Spike’s hideout. When he observed Ford was granted entry into the seemingly abandoned factory, Xander scanned the building’s exterior for a window to peek through.

When he didn’t see any external security, he quietly rushed around the side of the building. He couldn’t reach the large, grated windows, however, there was a wooden crate he could stand on. He hopped on the box to look through the middle window. Xander must’ve missed a lookout somewhere, because he soon heard a cocky voice echo through the narrow alleyway.

“What do we have here, boys?” the voice said.

He turned to the source of the voice and saw three large men to his left. Though it was night, the yellowish light coming from the street lamp offered enough light to see they were vampires. Xander hopped off the box and his feet began stepping away from them before his eyes saw the south exit was covered by another three vampires. Both exits of the dirty and narrow alley were covered by very strong demons and there was no ladder or manhole cover to help him out of the dangerous spot.

“Fuuuuck,” Xander cursed to himself, scoping from one end of the alley to the other.

Though the Achilles within languished for a fight, Xander was too human to beat or outrun them. With the stake in his belt under his shirt and his somewhat practiced moves, he could surprise and kill two of them at the most. Six was too many and the alley was too narrow to slip past them with any chance of success. Xander had one option, to lie, but he wasn’t hopeful.

“Note to self, always carry two stakes now, you idiot,” he said under his breath before calling out, “Hey fellas! I’m glad I found you,” his friendly voice boomed. “I’m supposed to pick up Ford, but all he told me was to come to the Bric & Broc building. Is this it? I’ve never been here before, so I’m kinda lost.”

“That’s funny,” the smallest of the vampires voiced. Of the six menacing men, three of them were massive; at least 6’5” two-fifty, maybe three hundred pounds. Two of them were only six feet, but quite muscular, with broad shoulders. The shortest one seemed to be the leader and finished saying, “when I was looking out from atop the building, it seemed more like you were tailing the meat sack.”

‘Of course,’ Xander mentally sighed. With a half chuckle, he called back, “Hah! You caught me. Truth be told, we go to the same club. Sunset Club. Ford’s been telling us he has plans, you see, but uh, I didn’t fully trust him, you know? So, I followed him here. To make sure he was doing what he promised.” He weakly wooed, “Yaaay, v-vampires…”

One of the larger ones remarked, “He knows that Ford guy is seeing the boss.”

“Should we take him in?” another asked.

The short vampire told the others, “Boss don’t want any interruptions unless it’s something serious.”

“How about I just wait with you guys in the front?” Xander suggested, thumbing toward the open space of the front of the building and away from the narrow alley. “I’m only here cause of Ford. Once he’s done, he can tell you he knows me.” Xander wasn’t sure how Ford would react, however, staying outside with them was better than going inside a building full of vampires.

“Fine,” the smallest of the vampires decided with arrogant authority. When the others looked at the teen skeptically, the short one defended his position. “What’s he going to do? It’s not like he’s going anywhere.”

“Come on then,” one of the other vampires said, shoving Xander forward. “But if you do anything to annoy us, it’ll be the last thing you do.”

They started walking around the building to the front when the largest of the vampires, likely 6’9” grabbed Xander’s shoulder and turned him around. The rest of the group stopped walking as well and looked at their comrade with confusion and interest. The large vampire grabbed Xander’s entire jaw with his giant hand and forced him to look up as his face was inspected. It was a blond vampire and his face had strong defined muscles, while his eyes looked tiny under the hood of prominent eyebrows.

“…Wait a minute,” the biggest vampire slowly spoke. He seemed slow as he inspected Xander’s face with a skeptical expression. Xander already knew how he was going to stab the large vampire gripping his neck, but he was figuring out how to escape the remaining five when the large, blond vampire finally said, “He looks like… a bit like… one of the Slayer’s friends.”

Xander felt his spine stiffen as they all looked at him more closely. The shortest vampire asked, “Really?”

“Slayer?” Xander questioned. Despite the large hand gripping his jaw and neck tighter, the teen maintained a confused look on his face as he asked through squeezed cheeks, “Wha-What’s a Slayer?”

Xander couldn’t see the vampire that asked, “You sure, Tiny?”

“Yeah,” the very large vampire ironically named Tiny answered. “I think he’s the boy that always helps her; not the old one. I was on the Master’s crew before you guys got here, so I went up against them a few times. Yeeeeaaah, I remember this one. He’s definitely one of the Slayer’s friends. And kinda cute.”

Xander didn’t like where the conversation was leading to, but the last comment made him quirk his brow. He knew he couldn’t lie to them any longer when Tiny tightened his grip on the teen’s neck nearly to choking.

“Let’s take him to the boss,” the shortest ordered. Walking around to face Xander, he snidely voiced, “Who knows, Tiny. Maybe Spike’ll give him to ya when they’re done torturing him.” The captured teen tried to maintain a neutral expression when the short one added, “Tiny’s got a thing for boys. Fortunately, our crew’s very forward-thinking.”

“How… p-progressive,” Xander choked out, nervously grinning.

Tiny smiled wickedly at Xander—likely imagining all the fun they could have together—but after the sound of a meaty thud, Tiny’s face morphed into confusion. When the blond vampire looked down, Xander removed the stake, before swiftly moving to kill the shortest one—stabbing the surprised vampire in the heart, as well—before the rest understood what had just happened. Tiny was dust when Xander removed the stake from the shortest and immediately started running away from the demons and up the alley.

Xander managed seven steps before the first vampire grabbed his shoulder. Mentally mapping the human anatomy beyond his vision, the teen whirled the stake in his right hand and stabbed the vampire’s shoulder without looking back. It screamed and let him go, but Xander didn’t get more than three steps before he was tackled from behind. The two fell to the wet stone floor before rolling to a stop. Xander tried to stab the vampire on top of him when one other grabbed his hand. Less than a second later, he’s punched in the face with a fist that felt like a sledgehammer. Xander was instantly dizzy and lost efficiency in his rubber limbs. For the next minute, they all beat the teenager bloody before dragging him from the alley to Spike.

“Xander,” Ford voiced, recognizing the bloody teen dumped on the floor of the factory. “Friend of Buffy’s,” he freely revealed to Spike.

Xander felt feverish, like he was boiling. His throbbing face felt inflamed with hot blood and his eyes were nearly swollen shut. The rest of Xander’s body fared little better. He was having difficulty breathing, which meant a few broken ribs and his stomach felt gutted; as if it were ripped out. The beaten boy was at their mercy.

“Ah, the Slayer’s friend,” Spike realized with amusement. “Couldn’t recognize ya on account of, well, yer face swellin like a pufferfish. Well done, lads.”

“Tiny was the one that recognized him, God rest his soul,” a vampire Xander couldn’t see said, but he heard some chuckle along with the ringing in his ears.

“What are you going to do with him?” Ford asked Spike.

“Oh, you know,” Spike psychotically sang. “Bit of this, bit of that. Lots of torture. The usual.”

“Will you turn him?” Ford sternly asked.

“Don’t you worry about him,” Spike told the teen. “You just bring me the Slayer and you’ll get what I promised. Go on, then.”

Xander heard Ford leave and doubted he would grow a conscience in a few hours to alert Buffy.

“Mnnn, Spike,” Xander heard a female voice. Drusilla gripped Xander’s dirty and bloody black hair and yanked his head so he’d look at her. Despite how near to a world of pain he was, he couldn’t deny she was a stunning merchant of death. She sniffed at him and tilted her head as she inspected his face. “He is soooo riveting! Like a gentle leaf twirling in the wind! Dancing in circles, and circles, and so many circles.”

That alone perked Xander mildly. He had to wonder if her crazed intuition or sight saw something about the time loop.

“Oh, darling,” Spike voiced. “If you like him so much, how could I resist giving him to you?”

Drusilla tortured Xander all night with a dream-like smile, as if his tortured screams were the best Christmas gift she’s ever received. During the day, the pretty lunatic left Xander to hang by the arms from the ceiling while she and Spike slept. His shoulders popped out of their sockets just before sundown. When Drusilla grew annoyed by his endless pleas to kill him, she broke his jaw. She beat him until his blood-stained body was black and blue. She fed off of him but never let him die. He was always just shy of death.

Despite feeling no energy in his body, Xander was in constant agony. He didn’t even feel like a person. It was as if he was made of feverish heat, constant throbbing, and unbridled pain. His torso became a series of excruciating agony that increased with every inhale of air, making it impossible to take a full breath. The stabbings to his Achilles tendons, elbows, stomach, and groin—especially his manhood—were a debilitating anguish of unparalleled intensity, and he screamed until he lost his voice. Throughout it all, Spike and Drusilla fed off of his suffering, laughing and having sex in front of him.

It was the worst week of his entire repeating life. Buffy never came to rescue him, and Xander assumed none of his friends died since he made it to the end of the week-loop. He’d lost track of time in their windowless torture room by the third day. One moment, he was being electrocuted repeatedly, and the next, he was waking up in his room to his blaring alarm.

“AAAAHHHHH,” he screamed as he woke up, and he was shaking like a leaf.

He looked around his dirty room and it was the first time he’s ever felt thrilled to see it. Xander knew right away he couldn’t go to school and see his friends… see Buffy. Instead, he stole his precious Dodge Viper and raced down to LA to see the insanely gorgeous Tiffani Amber Thiessen. When one night with the beauty wasn’t enough to satisfy his anxiety, he went to see Pamela Anderson. When even the busty blonde goddess couldn’t cure the restlessness in his heart, Xander thought of what he truly wanted from the bottom of his soul.

Though murdering Spike for good was a close first, Xander voiced the thing he wanted with conviction, “Control.”

Thinking of the torture the psycho vampires put him through for days and nights—of the parts of him they cut off—Xander went to the Army base near Sunnydale. It took him a few loops to figure out how to steal a small arsenal during the daytime. When he did, he commandeered two M1911 pistols, an M16 assault rifle, the M500 shotgun, the M72 LAW shoulder rocket launcher, all the ammunition for them, and a box of grenades. With a van full of weapons and ammo, Xander drove straight to Bric & Broc and parked a dozen yards away.

He only had thirty minutes before the Janus curse started, but that was all the time he needed. With the pistols, assault rifle, and shotgun strapped to him, Xander started with the rocket launcher. Twenty yards away from the front door with the lethal weapon resting on his shoulder, he set the steel door in his sights, then pressed down on the red button. His young body felt the jolt, then heard the ear-piercing explosion a second later. The heat and concussion waves wafted over him as he turned away from the blast.

Despite the cloud of dust expanding everywhere, Xander started walking toward the large hole in the wall as he casually threw a live grenade into the large hole like it was a baseball. After the explosions, he threw another two incendiaries deeper into the building, and they exploded five seconds later. Once he reached the hole, he gripped the assault rifle like a US government-trained combat specialist. On bent knees, he walked in with controlled and even steps, gun at the ready with his finger on the trigger.

There was so much smoke, it was hard to see. And all the yelling from the vampires trying to access what was happening made it confusing to narrow down where everyone was. When Xander heard a few yells of, “The sewer! Out the sewer!” Xander lobbed another couple of grenades far to the back where he recalled the sewer access was, hoping to cut off their escape. Along with some screaming, he heard two concussive explosions that blew away rubble, crates, and vampires. The force of the blast filled the wide room with more plums of thick dust, maintaining difficult visibility.

Rifle at the ready, he walked the main floor of the factory with measured steps. With a lower center of gravity, Xander was checking around every corner with his gun in the lead, and the moment he saw a vampire, he’d shoot them in the head; three rapid shots. When he’d walk by them, he’d fill their non-dusted bodies with another five rounds. Though the bullets didn’t kill them, Xander knew they would be down for hours. The teenage mercenary was clearing the first-floor room by room, hoping Spike and Drusilla were hearing the thunderous noise and panicking.

He tossed the assault rifle when he was out of ammunition and whipped around the shotgun. Any vampire that sprinted toward him got a hole ripped through their chest. Two vampires rushed him and he shot the knee off of the first one, stepped back to clear the punch thrown, then blew the second vampire away. Xander kept blasting vampires until he was out of shotgun rounds and unholstered his Colt 1911s. On his way to the second floor, Xander used his bullets sparingly, but he made quick work of any vampire running toward him.

Then he finally found Spike and Drusilla. Fortunately, Drusilla didn’t force Xander to loop back when he shot her in the head, though, technically, she wasn’t properly dead. However, it gave Xander the added bonus of watching Spike cry out in agony. Xander shot her body five times before Spike lunged at him. From ten feet away, the incredibly fast vampire slashed Xander’s gun away as he pulled the trigger. The teenager tagged Spike in the shoulder, but that wouldn’t stop the much stronger vampire.

An enraged Spike gripped Xander by the throat before Xander could stop him, and growled with such intense hatred, “Yoooouuuu, won’t die quickly.” The squeeze of his neck made Xander drop his other gun. Despite how terrifying Spike’s vampire face was, Xander looked deep into his yellow demon eyes as he finished, “I’m going to torture you for months on end, until you’re begging me to end your miserable existence!”

Xander lifted the round metal in his hand. Spike eyed the green balls in confusion at first. Then Xander let the striker lever pop off the grenades. As Spike panicked, the cocky teen gutturally voiced with a smile, “Been there, done that.”

They both saw pure white, and then nothing.

Xander didn’t even feel the explosion decimate his body. He woke up to the beginning of the day-loop once again. On his smelly bed, the calmer teen felt more relaxed in his heart. Killing them and the entire base was exactly what he needed, so he did it another three times. Though he was getting better at destroying the entire lair and every vampire inside, the Achilles mental pattern was disappointed by the way he was killing them. Sherlock thought it was efficient, while Achilles thought his revenge should be with a sword and shield, not a gun and bombs.

“Whatever,” the teen thought before he returned to the task at hand; getting out of the week-loop.

Xander used the Jenny route, and followed Ford once again, staying farther away from Spike’s perimeter. When everything progressed normally with the desperate & dying boy, Xander thought to follow Giles before trying Buffy again. Watching Giles and Jenny at the monster truck rally was difficult for him. The way the monster trucks decimating other cars was so entertaining, he could barely focus on Giles and Jenny.

Thursday night, Xander was stuck outside of the Library waiting while Buffy trained. Despite the aerobicizing music he could hear bumping through the doors, he was dying of boredom. The young teen was too much of a social creature to go without contact or stimulation for long periods of time, and fought with himself to stay put until the end of the loop. He was mentally preparing his next steps when he heard a faint scream echo down the hallway to his right. Curious, Xander jogged toward the far-off cry.

He then heard desperate banging and hollering coming from the side exit and ran to open the door; a red door that was locked at night. Xander ran around to the exit and rushed outside where he was just in time to watch the grey-decaying corpse of a woman snap the neck of a tall man she was lifting. She dropped the hefty man in a dark suit and red tie to the floor and he laid dead still. Her eyes glowed before she dropped to the floor and turned into a puddle of blue goo.

The putrid smell instantly hit Xander’s nostrils and he covered his nose before immediately rushing back to the library. Xander burst through the double doors and interrupted Buffy and Giles’ training session to show them the body. He was explaining what he saw all the way to the scene outside. Buffy and Xander stood back as Giles inspected the body of the man in the dark-navy suit. Xander hadn’t even noticed the silver suitcase the first time.

Giles grew incredibly anxious, and without looking at them, ordered the teens behind him, “Go home, both of you.”

Xander quirked his brow in confusion before noting, “Uh, but there’s a body and blue goo that used to be a body-”

“Please, Xander, leave this to me,” Giles said, standing to face them. “I’ll handle this. Go on. I must phone the authorities, and neither of you should be here for that.” Giles waved them away before turning his back on them and observing the scene as if the conversation was over.

Since this event was the only unknown variable that might explain Xander looping back, the teen boy wanted to stay. He wanted to protest to Giles, however, Buffy trusted her watcher and grabbed his wrist before dragging him away. Xander haphazardly tried to stay, but her grip was so strong, he didn’t even think she noticed him resisting. They were inside on their way to the library when he finally got her attention.

“Al-right!!” Xander yelled as he yanked himself free from her iron grip. He rotated his wrist as he told her, “Jeez, is it so wrong I don’t think we should leave?”

“Did you smell that? Is that something you really want to deal with right now?” She asked before assuring him, “If Giles says he’s got it, then let him handle it. I’m sure he’ll tell us tomorrow if it’s anything important.”

Having already said her piece, Buffy was already walking away. Eying her as she entered the library, Xander wanted to remind her that she doubted him when he warned her about Ford and she didn’t believe him then. Turning around to the scene of a homicide, he felt like this was the way out, but he wasn’t sure what he could do. Xander kept his mouth shut and went home. The following morning, it was Halloween again.

Now that the week was easier to get to, Xander’s first plan of action was to save the tall man in his dark-navy suit. After failing to convince Buffy, yet again, that Ford was bad, Xander proceeded to Thursday night nearly identical to the last loop. Only now, Xander was waiting outside with a bat in hand and ready.

Upon seeing the disgusting monster chasing the tall man in a suit, Xander suddenly wished he had a sword instead. Even so, he batted the petrifying head of the undead woman, and it felt like he was hitting against a brick wall. She eventually went down after three hard hits and Xander caved the dead woman’s skull in. When she turned into blue goo, the tall man was relieved, and in an English accent, asked for Giles. Xander nodded and showed him the way to the library.

“So, what’s your name?” Xander casually asked, walking with the bat on his shoulder.

“Philip,” he answered. “Philip Henry. Thank you for saving me…”

“Xander. And don’t worry about it. It’s all in a day’s work,” the teen casually voiced before they arrived at the library. Though Xander enjoyed Buffy’s light-green tank top and dark-blue spandex—easily leaving no doubt she had the most alluring figure—he was more intent on explaining what happened outside. Then he asked, “so, who, or what, was the walking corpse that turned into blue toilet water?”

Ignoring Xander, an agitated Giles told Philip, “We must investigate.”

“No, Rupert,” the taller Englishman replied. “We already know.”

“Know what?” Xander asked. “Inquiring minds are practically begging to know.”

Clearly hoping not to do anything more at the tail end of the day, Buffy turned to Xander and glumly asked, “But are we, though?”

“No,” Giles voiced with finality. He ordered them, “Go home, both of you. We’ll take care of the rest.”

As Buffy quickly went to grab her things, Xander blinked in surprise and asked, “Wait, that’s it?”

“Thank you, Xander, for helping my, uh, old friend,” Giles stated evenly.

“Wait,” Xander tried. “But, like, what’s going on? Hey-”

“Come on,” Buffy voiced as she gripped his elbow and pulled him toward the exit.

Sighing, he tried to fight the force of her pull, but it was like playing Tug-of-War with a freight train. They were outside of the school when she finally let go. She repeated allowing Giles to handle it, then left. Xander wasn’t surprised to loop back to Halloween. Xander tried to save the man and discover what exactly the walking dead was, but, yet again, he looped back to his smelly room.

Kicking off his smelly sheets, he yelled in ever-growing frustration, “Crappity dung nuggets! What the fuck is it!”

For absolute certainty, Xander decided to follow Cordelia and Angel as well. Once they were clear, he’d try once again to learn more about Philip and the corpse. Of the two, Cordelia was the hardest to follow since she had a fast car and got away easily. Undeterred, Xander stole the Viper and eventually mapped out her entire week. Other than being hit on by several men, flirting with attractive boys, and her unbelievable amount of shopping, she did nothing of note. Xander needed binoculars to spy on Angel, but he was by far the easiest to tail, since he stayed indoors most of the time. He only came out of his apartment to slay, be with Buffy, or both, and once, Drusilla visited him.

Throughout all the tailing, Xander relieved his boredom by buying scratch-off lotto tickets and trying to get as many winning tickets as possible. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought about playing the lottery before. It’s possible he may have been too focused on escaping the time loop or indulging in the pleasures of the flesh. Though, it was a punch to the gut to learn it was illegal for minors to play the lottery. Fortunately, Xander found one gas station with a specific clerk that did not care enough to card him. So, even if he couldn’t cash them, he could still buy them.

After more than a dozen week-loops, Xander memorized twelve $1000 quick-win tickets. He’d sell them around town as he followed Cordelia or Angel for seven hundred apiece and earned a nice little pot of cash. Xander even asked Giles on Thursday if he wanted to earn a quick profit and gave him a $200 friends and family discount. Giles promised to bring him the money on Friday, but there never was a Friday, since his body reset with every loop.

The week-loops were frustrating for another reason. They were beginning to make his exercise regiment feel pointless. He’d start working out on Saturday, run every day, use the school gym Monday through Thursday, feel a nice full-body ache throughout the entire loop, then lose all the progress by 3 AM Friday. He came across the same pointlessness after cleaning his room so many times. It annoyed him so much more than the one-day loop; so much so, he went to Amy once again. Xander wondered if she could lend him a book of magic spells, since he doubted Giles or Willow would approve of helping him find body-altering spells.

He used Halloween day loops to convince the magical girl to lend him a book of magic for beginners before using week-loops to practice. There were a lot of spells to practice, most of which were extremely complicated. After a few week loops, Xander was never once successful in even the simplest of all spells; turning an apple from red to blue. Sometimes, the apple would turn a slightly darker red, and other times, the fruit would explode. Xander was clearly terrible at magic, and other than Giles and Willow, the only other magical person he knew was Ethan.

‘No,’ the Sherlock pattern voiced. ‘He’s not.’

Realization hit Xander like a ton of bricks, making his eyes widen. The desperate teenager decided to become a wizard for Halloween, if only to comprehend on an intellectual level how to think about magic before trying it on his own; like when he dressed as a race car driver simply to learn the concept of driving. Naturally, Ethan’s complete disgust for characters like Doctor Strange, the Spectre, or even Yoda prevented Xander from getting his nerd hands on their spectacular abilities. However, the evil shop owner was, at the very least, persuaded into making the teenager a costume of the great and powerful Merlin.