Magnets

With the job of hammering white-hot metal for hours, Xander thought to stop by the Salvation Army on his way to Wild Dinks to buy some tough, smithing clothes. With memories of Eitri smithing and his observations of the smiths at the metal shop, Xander noted the outfit used by blacksmiths hadn’t changed much over the centuries; thick shirts—if they even wore shirts—thick pants, boots, and a leather apron.

“Linen can catch sparks easily,” he mumbled as he flipped through shirts in the aisle. “Cotton is a little more flammable than wool. Ah! Super drab-looking wool. Perfect.”

Xander celebrated at the sight of three long-sleeved wool shirts, one a muted beige, one black, and the other, light gray. He tossed them in with the black cargo pants and steel-toed boots he’d already found. For his leather apron, safety glasses, and gloves, Xander bought them at the hardware store along the way to Dinks. Until he could buy his own respirator, Xander decided to simply use the ones at the shop.

Xander worked throughout the day, trying his hardest to hammer runes into white-hot, sparking steel while attempting to visualize how the expanding metal will warp the strokes of the rune with every fold. It was much harder in practice than Eitri’s memories led him to believe. Xander couldn’t even tell if the strokes were lining up properly. If the layers of runic strokes weren’t aligned perfectly, he wouldn’t know if the sword would house magic until the very end when he spoke the incantation.

‘Weeks on a sword that I won’t know is busted until the end,’ he sadly thought. Truly grasping why only masters among masters can accomplish this, he glumly accepted, ‘Guess I’m doing this a million times before I get it right.’

A few hours later, a sweaty and tired Xander received a call from Willow, updating him on what happened to Buffy. Hearing about the Order of Taraka certainly jogged his Old Man Xander’s memories. His older self dealt with the secret society of feared assassins several times throughout the decades. They would come after individual slayers every five or six years until they killed the wrong girl. Willow and Buffy ended their secret organization after that. Xander then recalled hazy memories of a pretty black girl with hair tied back, patrol cars with flashing lights at his school, and clearer than everything else, kissing Cordelia.

“Wooooooooooow,” the wide-eyed boy voiced to himself in complete shock.

“Wow? What’s wow? I’m more, ‘oh no. Poor Buffy,’” Willow said through the phone.

She shook his head before making up for his blunder. “Oh, yeah, right. Same here. Girl can’t catch a break.”

“Right,” Willow agreed before explaining what Giles knew about the Order of Taraka.

Kissing Cordelia and the police cars outside his school worried Xander the most, but no matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t remember the circumstances of how they happened. He already knew he would somehow have a relationship with Cordelia. The teenage boy simply was dying to know how it started. Xander simply couldn’t imagine approaching the girl he’s hated since preschool.

He still remembered the haughty preschooler bluntly telling him in the sandbox, “Mommy says I have to be nice to you because your parents are drunks. But I don’t wanna.” Recalling how some of the kids in the playground laughed at him still made his blood boil.

Willow told him to be careful, and the childhood friends said goodnight. Unable to concentrate on anything else, the sweaty boy cleaned up his station, put his billet in his storage locker, then went home. Staring stressfully at the clock until it finally hit 3:01 AM made him miss sleeping in Jenny’s bed; in anyone’s bed. He simply couldn’t get to sleep alone.

Buffy was on edge the next day. Willow and Xander ran into her in the halls, and he could tell she was nervous. Usually, the blonde beauty dressed with the fashion sense of a fashion icon. Now she wore a loose-fitting shirt, drab slacks, and her golden hair was messy. While Xander tried to reassure his blonde friend that she had nothing to worry about, Willow attempted to distract her. The genius redhead boasted how proud she was of Buffy and Xander for having tested into law enforcement.

Though Xander enjoyed seeing Willow so impressed with his assessment, he didn’t care. He wanted to ask Buffy if she’d seen any fit black girls who tied their hair in a ponytail. He asked if they could talk in private, however, Buffy didn’t want to. Eying her suspiciously, Xander slowly asked, “You… can’t seriously be suspicious of me? Me?”

Feeling uncomfortable by the assertion, Buffy crossed her arms and cautiously expressed, “Well… You’ve been acting weird and Giles said it could be anyone; demon, monster, human.”

“Wow,” Xander gasped in disbelief. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“I’m pretty sure Xander’s not an assassin,” Willow slowly conveyed to Buffy. “You tend to notice assassin-y things after twelve years of friendship.” Turning to Xander she diplomatically voiced, “She’s just being cautious.”

“Yeah, right, sorry,” Buffy spoke up, shaking her head and getting their attention again. “Look, I know you guys are trying to help. Really, I do, but, you… I just… I need some space, okay?”

She left after their nod.

After school, Xander went to the library to inform Giles of anything that might help Buffy against the Order of Taraka. From his future memories, he knew the Order employed so many types of assassins, and because of their versatility of attack, it was nearly impossible to predict their method of attack. However, he knew of ways to narrow it down.

Pushing past the double doors of the library, Xander noted Willow sitting well away from Giles and Jenny. The adults were standing close to each other and clearly enjoying themselves as they researched. Clearing his throat, they separated a bit and Xander asked if there was anything new to report. There wasn’t, and Willow assured him they’d call if they had anything.

He nodded before remarking, “You may want to narrow down the assassins to the ones that can be in daylight. And if their organization was any good, they probably know that Buffy’s the slayer. Whoever hired them would’ve probably told them. So, anyone who thinks they can take on a slayer; witches, wizards, half-breeds, anyone using long-ranged weapons would also help narrow down the list.”

“That… seems logical,” Giles said from beside Jenny.

“Where’s Buffy?” Xander asked.

Willow answered, “We don’t know. No one’s seen her since lunch.”

“Perhaps,” Giles sadly began. “My words of caution were a little too alarming.”

Thoughts of a frightened Buffy made Xander return to the forge with renewed vigor. After reviewing the piece of paper that displayed what part of the rune he left off on, the young blacksmith continued refining, folding, and etching strokes of runes into blazingly hot malleable metal to create the best possible vessel magic could inhabit. If the magic deemed his construct worthy, which was an enormous IF, Xander could only hope the same magic the dwarfs infused in Mjölnir would be imbued in his weapons.

He was only human, after all.

Absent any school on Saturday, Xander was at the forge bright and early, either eyeballing the temperature of the billet in the fire or hammering on the anvil. It was nearly noon when Pete called out to him about a teacher on the phone. Sweaty and grimy, Xander walked into the sharply cold main office and grabbed the phone that was lying on the desk. It once again made Xander long for the advanced communications technology he never had. The teen wedged the phone between shoulder and ear before answering, “Yer speaking to the Xan-man.”

“Xander, it’s Giles,” he heard through the receiver.

With concern, Xander asked, “Hey, anything new? Buffy okay?”

“No, I still haven’t heard from her,” the watcher answered. “I’d like you to go to her house and check on her.”

Looking back toward his still bright red billet waiting for him, Xander asked, “Now?”

“Right away, please.”

“I’m at the shop,” he reminded the Englishman. The shop was an easy thirty minutes away in a car. By bus, it would take him at least an hour and a half to get to Buffy’s house. “It’ll take me a while to get there.”

“I don’t know- get Cordelia to drive you.”

Giles immediately hung up, making the teenage smithy sigh. He dialed Cordelia’s number and asked her to come pick him up. After forcing her to get out of bed, he went to the showers to wash off the sweat, soot, and grime before changing from his smithing gear to his civilian clothes. Twenty minutes later, Cordelia drove down the gravel road of Wild Dinks in her red BMW. Though a few of the guys wanted Xander to introduce her, the embarrassed teen just rushed to her passenger-side door before they left.

Cordelia was quietly fuming the entire drive over, and Xander didn’t add fuel to the fire. He was still in awe of what he knew could potentially happen between them. Glancing at her as she drove, he couldn’t deny she was attractive. She was dressed in a light blue sleeveless dress, the hem of which rode up high and showed off plenty of her toned thighs. She wore sunglasses, but they couldn’t hide her model-perfect beauty. Even still, he knew her alluring looks was the very reason she got away with treating people like disposable items. Xander simply couldn’t see how two people who openly hate each other could ever stumble into a physical relationship.

‘It takes two to tango,’ he thought desperately. ‘That means Cordelia wants me too…. HOW! Just how!’

When they reached Buffy’s house, Cordelia finally voiced her displeasure as they walked to the front door. “I can’t believe you dragged me out of bed for a ride. What am I? Mass transportation?”

As was typical of them, her displeasure was Xander’s joy, and he smirked before casually joking, “That’s what a lot of the guys say. But it’s just locker room talk. I never pay it any mind.”

The front door was locked, as were the windows. Rather than jimmy a window open, the Sherlock within aided Xander in picking the lock of the back door with one of Cordelia’s hairpins. It took nearly twenty seconds to open the simple lock, surprising the alluring cheerleader.

As he extended an invitation for her to enter, Cordelia remarked, “Summer camp for stalkers finally paying off? When did you learn how to break into people’s homes?”

“I do what I have to when my friends are in danger,” he hotly answered, nodding for her to enter. “Come on.”

“And I’m here, why? To be your Taxi Cab and punching bag?”

“More like my Cabbie and witless foil that’s easy on the eyes, but have it your way.” Cordelia turned around to leave when Xander placidly held her arm. “Come on, Cordy. You can’t be a member of the Scooby Gang if you aren’t willing to be inconvenienced every now and then. And I know you care more than you want to let on. ”

Rolling her eyes, she scoffed before retorting, “Oh, right, cause I lie awake at night hoping you dweebos will be my best friends. And that my first husband will be a balding, demented homeless man.”

“Buffy could be in trouble,” he reiterated.

With an especially disparaging sway of her head, she replied, “And what, exactly, do you think you can do about it? If you hadn’t noticed, you’re the lamest of the group. Buffy’s the super-chick or whatever, and even Willow’s a genius studying magic.”

Xander stepped close to her and told her, “I’m the guy that cares, which means I help.” Cordelia sighed and entered the home, making Xander smile slightly. As they made their way to the front, the spacious and well-lit interior was clean, orderly, and smelled nice. Making his way upstairs, Xander told her, “Stay down here while I check upstairs.”

It wasn’t long before there was a knock at the front door. Cordelia opened the red door to a mild-mannered man in a gray suit with black-rimmed glasses. He had a non-threatening demeanor and smile as he lifted his large black bag and offered the teenage cheerleader free cosmetic supplies. While Xander was checking each of the rooms upstairs, a giddy Cordelia happily invited the salesman in to inspect his wares.

Xander hoped to see Buffy when he heard Cordelia speaking to someone, but upon walking downstairs, he noticed the middle-aged man in a gray suit eying them like a serial killer finding his next victims. Cautiously, Xander moved ahead of an anxious Cordelia. She happily stepped behind him while he asked, “Hey, what’s up?”

The nervous girl quickly answered, “Uh, he’s a salesman, and he was just leaving, right?” Over Xander’s shoulder, she waved at the eerily silent stranger as she added, “Okay, bye-bye. Thank you.”

“Okay, Mary Kay,” Xander started as he reached out to move the man toward the door, but then noticed the brown worm crawl out of the creepy man’s nose and into his ear. The serial-killer salesman easily registered as an assassin to Xander as he backed away. “Time to run,” Xander voiced, taking the shocked cheerleader by the hand.

The assassin burst outward into thousands of worms. Two hundred and fifty pounds of worms quickly spread with a speed no worm could match. Xander and Cordelia took the long way to the back of the house and, to their surprise, found the worm guy waiting there as well. They quickly rushed to the nearest door and slammed it closed behind them. They were on the stairs to the cellar when they noticed the worms slithering their way under the crack of the door.

Xander was smashing them under his foot as he yelled, “Get something to cover the cracks!”

He grabbed a broom and quickly shoved as many of them as he could back under the crack. Cordelia shoved the duct tape she found toward his chest, yelling in the process, “Here! I don’t- I don’t do worms!”

He traded the broom for the tape, and with a grimace, sealed the open seam around the entire door as the repulsed Cordelia kept yelling, “Eww! Ew!” They stomped on the remaining worms until there were none left and the momentary threat to their lives passed. The pair quickly inspected the windowless cellar and found no other exits, meaning they were trapped in a room with an assassin on the other side of the only door.

In all of his memories from the future and his time braid, Xander can sadly attest, “Just when you don’t want to see any more, along comes a worm guy.”

Even after half an hour, Xander was sure the Worm Guy was just waiting patiently for them to come out. The Achilles and Sherlock within agreed that retreating was the best course of action. Xander had no weapons. Other than disassembling into worms, he knew next to nothing about the enemy’s method of attack, and Cordelia could get hurt if he stayed and fought. Though he was hoping for a blowtorch in the vampire slayer’s house, the only items close to a weapon were a mop, broom, and rubber hammer.

A frazzled Cordelia was pacing back and forth the entire time Xander was thinking, completely panicked. She was rubbing her hand incessantly and the Casanova mental pattern within thought she could use some comfort and stability. Casanova would’ve walked behind her, embraced her, and whispered soothing words until she calmed down. However, Xander knew Cordelia Chase wasn’t a typical girl with typical needs. He’s known her since they were four years old and knew Cordelia needed a different sort of comfort and stability.

With annoyance, he hotly contested, “Do ya mind sitting down or changing your pattern or something? You’re making me queasy.”

She returned just as hotly, “Because you’re just sitting there!” Continuing to pace back and forth, she glared at him as she added, “You should be thinking up a plan.”

Knowing a jovial voice would annoy her more, he easily responded, “I have a plan. We wait. Buffy saves us.”

“How will she even know where to find us?” the cheerleader questioned.

Eying her with great patience, Xander enunciated, “Cordelia. This is her house. Odds are she’ll find us.”

“What if she doesn’t?” she quickly countered. “What am I supposed to do? Just waste away down here with you? No thank you!”

As if unable to wait any longer, Cordelia moved toward the stairs and Xander leaped in front of her, arms out as he asked, “Uh, what are you doing, Eager Beaver?”

“Checking to see if he’s gone,” she exclaimed, pointing at the door at the top of the stairs.

Shaking his dumbfounded head in disbelief, he bellowed, “Oh, that’s brilliant, Cor. What if he isn’t?”

“Oh, Right,” she sarcastically hollered back. “You think we should just slack here and hope that somebody else decides to be a hero! Sorry, forgot I was stranded with a loser!”

Taking a step closer, he shot back, “And yet, I never forgot that I was stuck with the needle-brain who let Mr. Mutant into the house in the first place!”

“He looked normal!” she defended.

Flabbergasted by frustrated disbelief, Xander yelled, “What! Was he supposed to have an arrow and the word ASSASSIN over his head? All it took was the prospect of a free makeover and you licked his hand like a big, dumb dog!”

Moving closer to his face, she snarled, “You know what? I’m going. I’d rather be worm food than look at your pathetic face!”

The pair are nearly nose to nose and seething as he retorted, “Then go! I won’t stop you!”

“I bet you wouldn’t,” she hollered back. “I bet you’d just let a girl go off to her doom all by herself!”

“Not just any girl,” he slowly emphasized. “You’re special.”

“I can’t believe I’m stuck here spending what are probably my last moments on earth with you!”

“I hope these are my last moments! Three more seconds of you and I’m gonna-”

“You’re gonna what? Coward!”

“Moron!”

“I hate you!”

“I hate you!”

So close to each other, sweet scents filling their nose, overflowing with impatient emotions, years of familiarity, and a frustrating inability to act, their lips snap together like magnets. All passion, no thought. The warm lip-lock was a steel-melting, earth-shattering intense kiss. Xander’s experienced hand unconsciously moved to the small of her back, pressing her into him. His left hand landed on her neck so his fingers could massage her jaw and nape. His was not the fumbling hands of an inexperienced teenager, but of a professional taught by history’s greatest seducer and the practical experience of loving many women with different physical reactions.

Even when Cordelia needed air, Xander’s lips and tongue instinctively knew to pleasure her neck as his hand massaged her sensitive scalp. It wasn’t until Cordelia moaned in pleasure that she stopped. Though it was a sound of sexual satisfaction escaping her throat, it may as well have been a foghorn corralling their blazing emotions and recalling their senses. She leaned away, and the stunned pair looked at each other with wide fearful eyes, surprised that it had happened.

‘…Of course this would be how it happens,’ Xander thought, recalling the flash-memory of their kiss.

In all of his loops, Xander had never once kissed Cordelia. And as crazy as the thought of doing that with her—of all people—was, he felt even crazier when he found he actually enjoyed it; a lot. It made him feel crazy, and looking into her worried chocolate eyes, he could tell she felt the same.

Though Xander thought, ‘As my boy, Spock would say, ‘highly emotional reactions are highly illogical.’’ He voiced what they were both thinking. “We so need to get out of here.”

“Uh-huh,” she returned.

Cautiously, they walked up the stairs and warily unsealed the door. Xander cracked it open, and the frightened Cordelia bolted out past him, forcing him to follow. Not three steps away, worms rained on them from the ceiling and they sprinted through the shower of greasy worms. The pair sprinted out of the house as they shook and flung their arms to rid them of the squirming worms.

Cordelia screamed, “GET EM OFF! GET EM OFF!”

Xander grabbed the water hose and hit Cordelia with a full blast of water. She thankfully returned the favor and gave the boy a fast hose-down before they rushed to her red Beamer and sped away.

The teens made it to school, and though engrossed by their traumatic experience, they noticed a lot of police cars, officers, and parents around the gymnasium. The pair barely acknowledged it and entered the library cold and damp from the hose down.

Upon reaching his friends and a stranger, Xander overheard Giles finish saying, “Order of Taraka,” and added his own, “You want to talk Order of Taraka? We just met the king freak of-”

His attention was then suddenly stolen by the mildly familiar-looking black girl with a high ponytail and silver circle earrings. The exotic girl was extremely beautiful in her form-fitting outfit. Her skin was honey-brown, like caramel, and her brown, long sleeve crop-top showed her toned abs. She wore mahogany-colored slacks and the girl’s posture was perfect, accentuating her fit and curvaceous physique. The stoic beauty gave off the same sort of intensity Buffy did when she was fighting.

A fleeting memory of the same girl on the floor of the library flashed in his mind and it took him a second to realize, ‘KENDRA!’

He wanted to smack himself hard for forgetting her. Xander assumed the second slayer they’d be seeing was Faith, but he can’t believe Old Man Xander completely forgot about Kendra. The Old Man has certainly seen a lot of slayers die in his adult life, but to have forgotten a slayer as gorgeous as Kendra seemed crazy. Other than her death in this very room, at some point, by Drusilla, Xander recalled she lived in Jamaica, and nothing else, as if they had little to no interaction together.

“This ought to be fun,” Giles glumly stated, when he realized Xander was right. “Xander it would appear y-you were correct. This is Kendra, a uh, well, a second vampire Slayer. Now, about the Order of Taraka-”

“Oh, wow, way to brush right past the kudos there, G-Man,” Xander interrupted. “Not one to toot my own horn… but come on. Did I call it, or did I call it?” He looked at the girls as he asked, “I mean, it just made sense, right?”

No one answered, and most looked at him with a liberal amount of tolerance. Still wet and grossed out, a miserable Cordelia groaned to Kendra, “Hi. Nice to meet you,” as she went to sit down.

Xander stepped up to Kendra, and with a welcoming attitude, commented, “A slayer, huh? I like that in a woman.”

Kendra instantly became cripplingly shy and meek. So much so, Xander thought he broke her. Her body language drew in as if to become smaller, and she couldn’t look him in the eye longer than a second as she attempted to say, “I- I, hope... I thank you. I mean, sir... I will be of service.”

The Casanova within him quickly understood Kendra had nowhere near enough experience with men that a beauty like her ought to. The island girl made Xander recall Casanova’s conquests of stunning nuns or terribly sheltered ladies, who were incapable of suspecting his carnal intentions. It would be all too easy for someone of Casanova’s charm to take advantage of the beautiful Kendra’s inexperience. Fortunately, Xander wasn’t Casanova, and won’t risk losing anything with Cordelia over a girl who’d be returning to her country at some point.

When Giles asked about the assassin Xander encountered, Cordelia shrieked when she took a worm out of her hair and tossed it on the table. “EEWWW! I need to shower,” she yelled as she ran out of the room. Xander pointed and said, “That.”

Giles then informed the group, “I fear the worst is yet to come. I’ve discovered the remaining keys to Drusilla’s cure. The ritual requires her sire and must take place in the holy grounds of a church on the night of the new moon.”

“But the new moon is tonight, sir,” Kendra stated in a serious tone.

“Exactly,” Giles confirmed. “I’m sure the assassins are here to kill Buffy before she can put a stop to things.”

As Xander played catch up, Buffy quickly stood up, drawing everyone’s attention. The blonde slayer told the group, “Drusilla’s sire… The vampire that made her…” Rather pained, she reluctantly admitted, “It’s Angel. He’s Drusilla’s sire.”

Xander clearly missed a lot because nothing Giles was saying made any sense. He was at the forge for a few days, and somehow no one thought to tell him this fiasco around the Du Lac cross was about curing Drusilla and kidnapping her sire to do so. Looking at his friends, he couldn’t help wondering why they hadn’t told him.

Buffy gravely stared at Giles before cautiously asking, “This… This ritual. Will it kill him?”

Giles was silent a moment before delivering the bad news. “I’m afraid so.”

Like a switch flipped, Buffy’s only goal from that moment forward was to save Angel.

“Angel?” Kendra asked the group, looking at the watcher for approval. When Giles began cleaning his glasses, she told Buffy in her sexy Jamaican accent, “Our priority must be to stop Drusilla.”

Though Xander didn’t like him, he was personally committed to not letting Angel die and informed Kendra, “We can’t just let him die… even if I really don’t like him.”

After Kendra agreed to work together, despite their different priorities, Buffy angrily voiced, “Good. Cause I’ve had it. Spike is going down. You can attack me, you can send assassins after me, but nobody messes with my boyfriend.”

Practically everything Buffy said made Xander’s stomach turn; Spike going down, no one messing with her vampire boyfriend, and being fine with assassins attacking her. Xander didn’t like any of it, and sometimes, had to wonder about the girl deepest in his heart. She could have any guy she wanted, and the two biggest loves of her life were vampires. Admittedly good, vampires, despite Spike’s rocky start.

‘But still,’ he thought. ‘How can she not see they would never work out?’

Giles spoke with Kendra’s watcher over the phone while Willow, Xander, and Cordelia looked through listings of old churches as well as tomes of known Taraka Order members. Cordelia was sitting well away from Xander since their hands accidentally touched earlier and she leaped away as if burned. After hours of researching, they only had a few more hours before sundown, but Xander eventually found their Worm Guy. Though they weren’t ready yet, they were making progress. Sadly, an impatient Buffy couldn’t wait any longer.

When she grabbed her coat with apparent intentions of leaving, Xander called after her, “Whoa, hey, we’re almost ready, Buff. Where are you going?”

She was hastily putting on her coat as she replied, “I’m just going to ask around about any ritual.”

“Okay, cool,” he nodded, moving forward. “I’ll go with you.”

Buffy stopped him with a raised palm as she proclaimed, “Xander, stay and help them.”

Looking back to Willow, Giles, and Jenny at the table as they observed them, he momentarily felt stuck between two paths; two skill sets. While he’ll agree researching a powerful enemy before engaging was crucial, he also wanted to fight by her side as well. He jumped into the fray many times before the loops, and absent any combat skills, suffered painfully for it, however, now was different. He knew far more now.

Xander was certain he could show her how helpful he could be and voiced, “I can help.”

Buffy looked at Kendra, who walked up to them, crossing her arms before returning, “I’ve got help.” Kendra gave off an intimidating vibe that told Xander when there was a mission, she was all business. The beautiful slayers left without another word.

Shaking his head as they left, he turned to the others and told them, “I’m going to get glue and plastic bags.”

Confused, Willow asked, “What for?”

“Worm guy and our shoes,” he said over his shoulder as he left.

Willow found the location. It was an old rustic church past route 60, and it took Giles, Jenny, Willow, Xander, and Cordelia ten minutes of trekking through the thick shrubbery to reach it. When the five reached the house of prayer, it was so old; the land had claimed most of it. It was covered in dry vines, leaves, and weeds from the forest that surrounded them. They could see firelight glow through the broken stain-glass windows, and as they approached the eerie building, they heard fighting from within.

When Giles, Jenny, Willow, and Xander rushed inside, they saw Buffy and Kendra were already battling against Spike, two of his biggest goons, and the policewoman assassin. At the far end of the church, the weakened forms of Angel and Drusilla were tied together at the altar. The sire and sired had their hands bound and raised with a golden-hilted knife stabbed through their flesh. Angel was bleeding out, and if they didn’t save him soon, Xander was sure to loop back.

‘Unless you’re out of the loops forever,’ he wondered hopefully, though he didn’t want to take the risk.

Giles shot one of the larger vampires that Xander recognized as Tiny in the chest. Tiny turned to dust before Giles, Jenny, and Willow attacked the second goon with large crosses, stakes, and holy water in their hands. Despite their suppressing weapons, Xander didn’t like their odds. Vampires were stronger and faster than Olympic athletes. Chances were good they would lose in a minute or two.

Quickly, the teenage boy yelled at the Latvian Taraka assassin, and the bug man disassembled into its little squirming parts and chased after him. He went through the door behind him, then closed it. Cordelia was waiting with a bucket of industrial-strength glue poured on the floor in front of the door. When the bug man, in his hundreds of bug parts, wormed its way under the door, the glue held them in place for Xander and Cordelia to stomp on them. With plastic bags over their shoes, they stomped on the worms with furious glee until there was nothing but worm paste left.

At the sound of gunfire, Xander grabbed Cordelia’s hand and rushed back to the nave of the church. Willow, Jenny, and Giles struggled to stake their vampire as Buffy fought Spike, and Kendra finished off the policewoman assassin. Xander ran to his friends and staked the large vampire, turning it to dust all over Giles. After Spike went flying with Buffy’s clean hit to his jaw, the vampire knocked down a host of candles on his way down, quickly setting the old church on fire. Buffy rushed to Angel and Drusilla, removed the dagger from their joined, bloody hands, and unfastened Angel from Drusilla. With Kendra’s help, they grabbed Angel and ran from the room as the fire quickly spread throughout the weathered building.

Through the flames, Spike moved to Drusilla’s side, and Xander hesitated leaving. His instincts didn’t want Spike to die for fear of looping back, and just then, the roof of the old church fell on Spike and Drusilla. Xander’s heart stopped and his body froze. For an infinitely tortuous second, he expected to see black and go back, but Cordelia pulled him to move. The nervous teen sighed in deep relief as they all escaped the burning church.

Though Xander knew Spike was still alive, he didn’t tell his friends. He was certain they’d only stake the vulnerable vampire, and more than anything, he did not want to loop anymore. Xander was eager to reshape his life with his newfound knowledge, his dear friends, and whatever he had with Cordelia. Eying Buffy tending to the weakened Angel with so much love and caring still made him roll his eyes.

‘As if that would ever work out,’ he thought of the unorthodox relationship. However, his mind reminded him of Anya. ‘I love and nearly married a thousand-year-old ex-demon.’ With a shrug, he wondered, ‘Maybe human demon relationships just don’t work?’

After Willow, Jenny, and Giles enchanted a circular perimeter around the church to contain the fire, the group left the secluded area. As they were walking to the cars parked off of route 60, Xander walked beside Kendra and whispered, “Meet me back here at dawn.” When she looked at him, her eyes darted down, and could not reply. He added, “Please, Kendra. It’s a matter of life and death.”

She was shy and nervous. However, intent on being of service, she nodded without looking him in the eyes. Cordelia was over the night and quick to leave the group, but was kind enough to give Willow a lift home. Buffy and Kendra helped Angel into Giles’ classic car before the four left, and Jenny gave Xander a lift home.

Bright and early the following morning, Xander was happy to note Giles and Willow’s magic worked, and none of the surrounding trees caught fire. Kendra met Xander at the collapsed church just as the sun cleared the horizon. If he didn’t have to, Xander wouldn’t go out at night, especially to rummage through a pile of burned debris he knew two living vampires were buried under. He’d have a heart attack with every shake of a pebble.

“Thanks for coming,” Xander cheerfully greeted the demur girl. “I know this might be weird for you.”

As expected, the shy beauty could barely maintain eye contact and meekly drew her limbs inward as she stammered to say, “I- No- If I m-may be of service, I w-would be h-honored, sir.”

‘Oh, this just won’t do,’ he thought. Xander needed her to be comfortable with him quickly and asked, “Kendra, take my hands.”

He extended his hands, and the girl stepped back, looking at him in surprise as she asserted, “I- No, sir. I am- I’m not permitted-”

“I know, I know, but there’s something really important I want to talk to you about,” Xander reassured her with soft words. He bent his knees to lower himself to her height and leaned his head to the side, attempting to retain eye contact with her as he stated, “It’s only going to be harder if you’re uncomfortable with me.”

This close to her, with her silver neck-choker, form-fitting crop-top highlighting her large breasts, Xander was in awe of how gorgeous she was. The dawn light even made her caramel skin appear warmer and alluring. Hesitantly, Kendra gathered her courage and her shaky hands gently took his. Despite how delicate and slender they looked in his palms, he could feel how calloused her warm palms were.

After clearing his mind of dirty thoughts, Xander voiced, “Good. Now close your eyes and take a deep breath.” Hesitantly, she cautiously did as he asked. After a moment, he asked, “Can you feel my heartbeat?”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

“I want you to try and match it,” Xander softly voiced, enjoying the warmth of her hands. “Deep breaths, in… and out. Real easy. I’m not a stranger, Kendra. In… and out. I’m a companion. A comrade. In… and out. We fought together last night, didn’t we?”

“Y-yes,” she replied with eyes closed.

Xander opened his eyes and, after being struck by her beauty once again, he assured her, “Since we fought together, you can talk to me like an ally now. Being nervous with a fellow fighter isn’t necessary. Does that help?”

She slowly opened her eyes as she admitted, “I… believe so. I- I will try, sir.”

“Okay, great.” He sadly let go of her hands and turned to enter the burned-down church. “Come on.”

Following him into the charred remains of the old building, Kendra asked, “W-Why are we he-here, sir?”

“You can call me Xander,” he lightly offered over his shoulder. He moved carefully in the nave as he answered, “I want to find what’s left of the Du Lac cross. The gold was blessed by holy energy and used in magic rituals. I’m hoping it could help me forge some weapons.”

With a raised eyebrow, the ebony slayer asked, “You are a forge master?”

“I’m a novice at the moment,” he sadly admitted, noting the odd mixture of char and cool forest scents in his nose. “But I’m hoping to make something that’ll help Buffy slay the worst of the worst.”

“Th-That is admirable of you,” she quietly complimented, blushing at the same time. “Even if you do not possess the strength of a Slayer or the wisdom of a Watcher, you would endeavor to be of use.”

Stopping, he stood straighter as he replied, “Thanks… that’s actually nice to hear.”

When the pair were at the sanctuary of the nave, Xander began looking through the rubble he thought the gold cross would be under. The ceiling was now a pile on the floor, so even if there was a lot to sift through, there was plenty of light to search. With workman’s gloves on, he tossed broken planks and cement rocks to the side. As he worked, Kendra asked, “What did you wish to speak to me about?”

“I wanted to ask if you had to leave,” Xander started, continuing to sift through the debris. “Or can you stay for a little longer?”

Curious, Kendra raised her brow as she asked, “How long?”

“A week; maybe two,” he grunted as he tried to lift a big broken beam.

Kendra walked around him and casually lifted the two-hundred-pound wood beam like it was a chair as she voiced, “If my Watcher believes the danger has subsided, then I must return.”

She tossed it to the side as an amazed Xander continued, “Here’s the thing. I want to tell Buffy something she’s not going to like. And ideally, I’d like you around as insurance, to make sure nothing bad happens.”

Curiouser, she asked with a serious tone, “What will you tell her that would upset her so?”

Xander paused for several moments, unsure if he should confide in the dutiful girl or just take a more indirect approach. The time-imprisoned teenager was halfway to reaching the end of the month-loop and his primary priority was to not go back. He could feel himself getting closer to throwing the towel if he didn’t get out soon. With Kendra around to make sure things remain calm, Xander should be able to continue moving farther away from Halloween and all the horrendous looping.

Gulping, he thought, ‘Or, Kendra can just as easily fight Buffy to the death because his slayer wanted to protect her vampire boyfriend.’

Xander felt it was a roll of the dice, but took the chance. With a sigh, Xander stopped working to look at the stunning Jamaican and explain, “I need to tell Buffy that she has to break up with Angel… before it’s too late.”

Recalling how much Buffy cared for Angel after they rescued the vampire, Kendra tilted her head in confusion as she agreed, “That… would certainly upset her.” Focusing on the tail-end of his statement, she asked, “What does this mean, ‘too late?’”

“Angel is a vampire cursed with a soul,” Xander began. “That’s why he’s a good guy, because his constant guilt and shame prevent him from doing bad things. Without the curse, he’s Angelus, the Scourge of Europe. The kick to the nuts is if Angel ever experiences a moment of true happiness, the curse giving him his humanity will break and he’ll lose his soul-”

“Reverting to Angelus,” she interrupted in full understanding.

“Exactly,” he sighed. “I’m sure Buffy doesn’t want that any more than we do, but that means they can’t be together… You know, because of the whole happiness part. It’s going to be a tough conversation to have cuz she’s really strong and stubborn as hell when it comes to him.”

“It was impossible to ignore her tenacity to save him,” a thoughtful Kendra slowly concurred. “She loves him with all her heart.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “So, do you think you can stay until I tell her?”

“Why have you not told her already?” Kendra demanded to know, forgetting all about her meekness. “Angelus is far worse than Spike or Drusilla. This could become quite dangerous.”

“I know, but…” Xander took a moment to express, “Knowing how much it’ll hurt her… it’s just not that easy to deliver news that’ll wreck her.”

“Even so, you must,” Kendra hotly implored.

“I will. I will. I just need a little time,” he assured her before hopefully begging, “So, can you stay? Just until she accepts it.”

The ebony-slayer sighed before stating, “I will speak with my watcher.”

“Cool. And let’s keep this between us for now,” he said. He then smiled before cheerfully remarking, “Look at us, having a normal conversation.”

Upon reflecting on his observation, her shyness returned with haste. “Yes, I- I f-find it quite… satisfying.”

“Can I give you a piece of advice?” When she nodded hesitantly, he continued, “If someone knew how shy you get around men, they could use that to attack you. And I don’t mean vampires or demons. I’m sure you can fight them off. I mean regular human men. I think you should get used to talking with a guy before a situation comes along where it goes bad. I mean, it’d really suck if something bad happened to you.”

“I… understand, sir,” she struggled to say. “T-thank you… Xa- Xander.”

He nodded and, with her help, Xander continued searching. Her prowess for lifting incredibly heavy objects with ease was very useful, and they found the dirt-cover golden cross after thirty minutes. They made their way back to town in relative silence, mostly because Kendra either couldn’t or wouldn’t say anything, and Xander used the rest of the day to forge.

In school Monday morning, Xander and Cordelia happen to come across each other walking down the same hallway. When she spotted him, she immediately turned around and tried to escape him, and the memory of their lips locked together, drawing a snorting smile from Xander. He chased after her, then dragged her into an empty classroom and closed the door behind them. With her arms crossed and fierce eyes, the boy knew Casanova wouldn’t be able to get past her defenses, but Xander did.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” the boy started. “There’s no reason for us to run every time we see each other in the halls.”

“Right. Okay,” she quickly agreed with several nods. Then, as if unsure why, she curiously asked, “Why shouldn’t we run?”

Pleading for patience, he replied, “What happened… there’s a totally logical explanation for it.”

“You’re a pervert?” she quickly asserted.

Her flat-out certainty that was the only explanation made him retort, “Me? I seem to recall being the jumped, not the jumper.”

Offended at the insinuation she would have any attraction for him, she stomped closer to declare, “As if! You’ve probably been planning this for months!”

Xander snorted, “Right. I hired a Latvian Bug Man to kill Buffy so I could kiss you. I hate to burst your delusional bubble, princess, but you don’t inspire me to spring for dinner at Bucky’s Fondue Hut.”

“Fine,” she exclaimed, leaning closer. “Whatever. The point is, don’t ever try it again.”

He inched closer to her as he yelled, “I didn’t try it! Forget the bugs. Just the memory of your lips on mine makes my blood run cold.”

“If you dare breathe a word of this-”

“Like I want anyone to know!”

“Then it’s erased?”

“Never happened.”

“Good!”

“Good!”

So close to each other, like magnets unable to resist their attraction, Xander and Cordelia’s lips snap together and they’re heatedly kissing once again. It was just as intense as the first time, and the feel of Cordelia’s firm, soft, and sexy body against him felt amazing. His hands automatically went to work massaging her firm form, coaxing as much pleasure and sensitivity out of her as he could. Whilst tonguing the most popular girl in school, his experienced hands explored the usual spots for a delectable reaction, and it wasn’t long before he found her pleasure spots. Massaging her lower back and hips zapped her spine and brain with a sudden thrill, making her moan into his mouth as her body pressed wantonly into his.

He massaged that toned arch of her lower back, feeling her get more excited, and then he stopped. With a girl like Cordelia, headstrong, confident, ready to protect herself, the Casanova within advised him he needed to make her seek it, so his hands moved away, and he pressed his forehead to hers to arc out of their kiss. He couldn’t let her have her fill. She needed to be teased for however long it took before she asked for more. That would be the act he needed; her to ask for more.

With half-lidded eyes, the aroused beauty looked at him with a mixture of surprise and disbelief, whether at him or herself, he couldn’t say. Xander stepped back, gave the frozen Cordelia a tender kiss on the cheek, then left the taken girl without another word.