Warrior Wizard

Xander woke up because an unpleasant, jostling movement sent bolts of pain through his jaw, skull, and down his neck. He felt as if he was in a running car, because the slightest bumps on the road would send rivers of white-hot pain into his brain. His eyes couldn’t seem to regulate light, and the slightest ray of pure white would hurt to see. Xander’s mouth, nose, and cheek felt like they were hit with a steel pipe, and stuck in a caved-in-like shape. His face was sweltering hot, like he was bleeding fire from his broken nose & fractured mouth. Xander would’ve been thrilled he didn’t die from Buffy’s slap if not for the agony of what was likely a broken jaw & surrounding bones.

“Xander, remain calm,” Giles’ voice said from his left, but Xander couldn’t see him. “We’re nearly there. Hospital’s only a block away.” When Xander tried to talk, only agony sounded out. “Don’t speak,” the watcher ordered with concern. “Just hold on.”

Xander’s hot, sweaty face felt as if it was swelling far too much. His neck seemed eerily dislocated and his throat, like it was stuffed with sharp glass. Everything hurt and desperately needed surgery, however, Xander didn’t stay at the hospital. The second he got a shot for the pain, he ignored the agony of his jaw and the pounding migraine and forced his way home. It was a long, grueling walk, however, he thought it slightly better than destroying an untold amount of property upon calling his weapon.

On wobbly feet, Xander made it to the only salvation he needed. In his bedroom, Xander gripped Dreadnought, and instantly, his body experienced a cool refreshing anesthetic better than anything the hospital gave him. The exhausted teenager fell into bed, and with weapon in hand, slept instantly. It took the day and all weekend to magically heal his broken jaw and surrounding bones, but it was leagues better than modern medicine. Xander just gripped Dreadnought, ate soup, and slept. Come Monday, his body still hurt to move, but he reassured Willow & Giles that the injury wasn’t too terrible and he was getting better.

Midway through the week, his vision was nearly perfect again, his migraines downgraded to annoying headaches, and he could eat solid foods again without painful toothaches. Xander learned from Willow that he was banned from slaying business, but having cleared the month-loop, he didn’t care all that much. As the childhood friends walked down the school hallway, the raven-haired teen explained to his redheaded friend his side of what happened, and despite being on his side, it was clear she was disturbed by what he said to Buffy.

“He’s a vampire, Will,” Xander defended. “And Buffy’s the slayer of vampires. When it comes right down to it, it was never going to work out, to begin with.”

The stunned Willow whirled on Xander, sadly asking, “How can you say that? Buffy’s our friend! And we support our friends even if it’s hard.”

His half nod showed he wanted to agree but couldn’t fully commit, stating, “Yeah… I mean, I’m with you there, but this is more than just hard. It’s reckless endangerment of innocent lives; all so she can be with her undead boyfriend?”

Disturbed, Willow grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the busy hallway and into an empty classroom. Turning on him, the worried redhead asked, “Why are you acting like this? I’ve never seen you this... c-callous, or petty.”

His black eyebrows shot up as he asked, “Wow… Wow, petty? Really?” Willow shook her head, saying no, but Xander continued, “Because I’m worried about innocent lives instead of drinking the Buffy/Angel Soulmate Kool-Aid? They should discontinue that flavor for health reasons.”

“It’s that!” she hotly contested, snapping her fingers and then pointing at his mouth. “That right there! It’s like you’re mocking her for falling in love with Angel… like, maybe…”

Her hesitance to speak clearly told him she didn’t want to hurt his feelings, however, he waved her concern, reassuring her, “It’s fine. Just say it.”

Hesitantly, she voiced, “Like, maybe you hate that she doesn’t love you like that?”

Other than the agony of getting slapped by Buffy, Xander was exuberant that he got to tell her off. He never wanted to be hurt like that again; never wanted to be so blind again. In his overly complicated way, Merlin warned him about instinct and how unwise love could lead to such heartache, so Xander was simply going to rebel and do as he pleased.

‘It all seems doomed anyway,’ he thought before answering Willow with a shrug. “I don’t know. I mean, that’s as possible as anything else. But I wonder if we really can’t help who we fall in love with, or we’re all just so broken inside, we can’t recognize actual love when we see it. Is it so crazy to believe some of us, me, get angry when others, Buffy, fail to see the obvious?”

She blinked in surprise before slowly expressing, “That’s… a somber thought.”

“But it makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” he asked, before adding, “I mean, the love of a slayer and a vampire have just as much chance at surviving as the district attorney and a crime lord. Don’t tell me all of the district attorney’s friends aren’t telling her it’s not going to end well.”

Clearing her head of tangent curiosities, Willow fervently replied, “Whatever the case may be, Buffy doesn’t deserve her friends unloading on her just because she loves who she loves. Love is love.”

Shaking his head in open disagreement, Xander leaned in and simply stated, “The second Angel has a moment of happiness, POOF goes the nice vampire. Angel reverts to Angelus, the Scourge of Europe; no ifs, ands, or buts about it. That’s the curse. That’s reality. If I ignored that, hoped it didn’t happen so Buffy could be in love, I’d be partly responsible for anyone he ended up killing. If you’re telling me I was wrong for doing what I did, then tell me what I was supposed to do.”

Willow bit her lower lip a little, her expressive eyes unsure of how to answer. After a moment of contemplative silence, the redhead settled for saying, “Maybe try not antagonizing a heartbroken girl with the strength of a hundred men.”

“You got me there,” he said as he leaned back rather triumphantly. Though, he thought, ‘Worth it.’

When they heard the warning bell, the childhood friends walked out into the hallway as Willow assured Xander, “Giles and I will talk to her, but it could be a while before you can come back. It’s too fresh right now.”

Uninterested, he shrugged as he replied, “Take your time. I’m in no rush to return to servitude.” The disappointed look Willow leveled him with made him roll his eyes before sighing. For her sake, he restated, “I’ll keep myself busy, Will. Just call me if anything comes up.”

Xander redoubled his efforts to finish his scrambler motorcycle. Unforeseen performance problems with the carburetor delayed his progress, but with Mr. Danh’s help, he rebuilt the vital part with a repair kit. All Xander had left to do was simple stuff: Fasten the exhaust to the supercharger, connect the battery, alternator, and regulator, affix the handles & pedals, bolt on the matte-black gas tank, screw on the black leather seat, and lastly, attach a few clasps to hook Dreadnought on if he wanted. The final assembly took less than a day to finish and his first motorcycle looked absolutely gorgeous.

“Finally!” he cried out loudly, eying every inch of his midnight scrambler.

Most of the bike was stealth black, however, depending on the material of the surface, highlights bounced off the bike with a variation of soft or sharp light. The high-performance off-road scrambler looked intimidating, with its thick tires and hefty black & steel engine block. The repeated pop-pop-pops from the silenced muffler indicated clean bursts in the engine and an optimal burn when he accelerated. Though he test-drove it carefully, Xander relished the top-quality performance on and off the road. With his learner’s permit and insurance already squared away, Xander said farewell to his days of running all over town with a great big smile.

The first time he drove his scrambler to school—wearing a dark long-sleeve under a colorful Hawaiian shirt, khakis, and black sunglasses—Xander drew a lot of attention. The student body walking into school were blown away by his bike. Though they could see it was a unique-lookinh motorcycle, no student would guess that much of the aesthetics came from 21st-century designs, as Old Man Xander liked several of them. He’d later learn from Cordelia that his popularity shot up by eighty percent.

When Xander caught Buffy’s arrested and curious eyes, he grinned mischievously at her, then winked. The pretty blonde crinkled the bridge of her nose glaring at him before stomping away. Willow looked at him with, ‘come on, Xander,’ eyes, and he nodded apologetically with a small smirk. She followed Buffy whilst Cordelia rushed over to him and insisted on dressing him to compliment the only enviable thing about him.

Raising his lips from the water fountain, he wiped the dripping water on his shirt before he asked her, “Isn’t that like couples stuff? I thought we were keeping this classified; need to know; as in, you don’t want anyone to know.”

Walking down the hall together, Xander took a moment to recall how their current relationship formed once again. He tried breaking it off with her, but after their typical bickering banter, Xander became Cordelia’s Geek-Vaccine again. Cognizant of the wisdom Merlin shared with him, the teenager was growing more and more curious about his feelings for Cordelia. She was great, and in significant ways, they were great together, however, Merlin had Xander questioning what was beneath that. From their first kiss in Buffy’s basement, the raven-haired boy could always recall how much of their relationship was pure, animal attraction.

Eying her out of the corner of his eye, he asked himself, ‘What is that if not instinct at work?’ As they met for fun, Xander couldn’t help but wonder if Cordelia really loved him, or if they simply connected well on a physical level. ‘Plus, she had something deep with Angel when she moved to LA.’

At his query about doing things couples do, Cordelia weakly replied, “We… are? …I don’t know,” She hopped in front of him, stopping them near a corner of the hall, and seemed conflicted as she remarked, “I mean, the cooler you become, the less reason I have to hide you.”

“...So sweet,” he sarcastically said, with a flat face. “With an offer like that, how could I ever refuse?”

Shifting her weight from foot to foot, she begged, “Please, Xander! That’s the best and only motorcycle in school! It’s practically criminal to ride around in the fashion-disaster you wear on the daily.”

Looking at his colorful Hawaiian shirt over his khakis, he would’ve felt offended if he cared about what he wore. At her adorable face and pleading eyes, Xander felt his resolve crumble and groaned before replying, “Ugh, fine-”

“Yeeessss!”

“But,” Xander quickly interjected. “I’m only giving you an hour of prep and thirty minutes of actual shopping.”

Looking at him like he was a lost child, she shook her head before asserting, “That’s not how this works. It takes hours of fittings to find the right style-”

“Tough,” he unceremoniously interjected. “Take it or leave it.”

“…Fine,” she eventually agreed. “But only because I enjoy a challenge. And you have to give me five separate shopping days.”

Extending his hand, he nodded as he voiced, “You drive a hard bargain, Chase.” With her beaming smile, she shook his hand, then asked how he came to own a brand new motorcycle while they walked to class. He answered, “It’s not actually new or even expensive.”

As he would with anyone who asked, Xander explained to her having bought a junkyard bike and rebuilding it piece by piece. Though she was skeptical at first, the more he spoke about mechanics, the less she doubted him. Aside from the minutes of fame he earned throughout the week for his eye-catching and expensive-looking bike, his school life was mostly spent alone or with Cordelia in empty classrooms, storerooms, or her car. Jenny checked in on him from time to time, concerned he was taking getting kicked out of the group hard. However, Xander enjoyed his time away from slaying business, and actively looked for every opportunity to annoy Buffy.

He’d sit near her in class, or go to the library to check out a book when he knew she’d be there. Any chance he got, he’d pass her in the halls or at lunch and completely ignore her. At times, being near her was like a double-edged sword, making him recall the pain the previous Buffy caused him. He could only bear it when he’d note how upset she clearly was. The way her tense hand would break her pencil was surprisingly satisfying.

Though he was aware of his own pettiness, Xander refused to apologize. He refused to forget about her & Spike, or be a punching bag for the heartbroken girl to take her pain out on. He may understand the loss she was feeling, but his own heartache was an acute pain that wouldn’t allow him to care. Though, he couldn’t help but respect her being in school rather than in her bed curled up in the fetal position, crying and shitting herself.

When one of their teachers needed him to pass an assignment to Buffy, Xander found her in the library talking to Giles about vampire business. He walked in as he heard Buffy tell Giles, “I’m telling you something is going-” She stopped talking when she noticed him enter.

Pasting a smile on his face, Xander waved casually as he assured Buffy, “Oh, don’t let me interrupt.”

“Way too late for that,” she coldly retorted.

“Oh, I see you want to keep blaming me for stuff that’s out of my control,” he said with a casual nod. “Fair enough.”

At Buffy’s tensing shoulders, Giles stepped forward and asked, “Xander, what can I do for you?”

Walking forward as he raised some papers, he answered, “Here to give Buffy her assignment.” When she looked at him suspiciously, he added, “What? The teacher asked me to.”

“Leave it and go,” she hotly told him.

Xander didn’t, and instead asked, “Can I have a minute?”

“No-”

“I, uh, must locate a tome. Be back momentarily,” Giles hastily told the blonde slayer, who looked betrayed. He took one step away before he leaned in and asked his slayer, “Please be civil.”

Xander stepped closer and casually asked, “So, what’s new?”

She glared at him before sighing and telling him, “Just leave the assignment and go, Xander.”

At her evident frustration with him, the casual boy voiced, “It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you’re still pissed at me.”

With bubbly sass, Buffy tilted her head as she remarked, “No one’s mistaking you for a genius.”

“No, just a rational person,” he easily returned with a smirk. “And friend, while I’m at it.”

“Stop, Xander. Just stop!” Buffy called out, moving closer to him. It wasn’t a threat of violence, but sheer frustration, as if she’s had more than enough of his guile. Her greenish-blue eyes were pleading when she stated, “What you did… hurt me. And worse yet, it’s like you were fine doing it. So, just leave the stupid paper and stay out of my life.”

Once again, any payback he wanted for what the other Buffy did was flipped on its head and made him feel like the bad guy. Xander couldn’t escape the fact that he was being petty, however, he still didn’t have it in him to be the friend to her he once was. In his heart, Buffy was dangerous, and he needed to be careful around her, or risk his sanity.

With a deep breath, Xander was slightly more empathetic as he replied, “Believe it or not, I know exactly what you’re going through. And I feel for you. Really, I do. But don’t think that gives you the right to kill the messenger just because you didn’t like the news.” Xander tossed the stapled sheets on the library’s wooden desk, adding, “Here. I wrote the answers for you on a second sheet because the awesomeness of my friendship knows no bounds.”

“Out,” she hotly replied.

Walking away from the peeved girl, Xander voiced, “Call me when you need me.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” Buffy advised with a snarky smile. “Or do. I don’t care.”

As he made his way to the door, he called out over his shoulder, “Careful what you wish for.” Before stepping out, however, he added with a smile of his own, “You might like me more if I were dead.”

After working on the fourteenth iteration of Slaymore, Xander showered off the sweat and grime of the forge and dressed in black tactical gear he bought. Though he loved the idea of making himself a superhero costume, he had little time or patience for the process. Similarly, leather was out of the question, as moving in the material was too noisy. Using the Navy SEAL mental pattern, Xander entered the army surplus store and bought a black, long-sleeved body tee, a hooded black jacket with a high collar, black cargo pants, knee & elbow pads, stealth military boots, gloves, and a black & grey camouflage scarf. He had a few knives made of wood in several pockets, Odin’s ring on his finger, and hooked Dreadnought on the side of his bike before leaving for his first patrol.

Xander imagined the Achilles and Navy SEAL mental patterns were exhilarated by the action, however, he remained extremely focused. He never let it slip his mind that vampires were faster and stronger than him without his ring and axe. Fortunately, even without Odin’s ring or Dreadnought, most vampires didn’t know how to fight as he well as did, or what to expect.

Achilles for the hand-to-hand combat and the Navy SEAL for the strategy, Xander was patient and fought with his head to outwit them. With Odin’s ring maximizing his body’s performance and Dreadnought’s ultra-sharp edge & ability to return upon command, Xander dusted five to six vampires a night without help. The close-quarter combat made him recreate his seax Viking dagger. The older versions were made with the rune, ᛉ, or algiz, for protection and defense, making the edge and body virtually indestructible. However, he wanted his seax dagger to do everything Dreadnought could for fighting in tighter spaces. It took longer to forge, but greatly opened his options of attack.

After a week of slaying, he couldn’t help but notice the escalating number of vampires he came across, many of whom didn’t appear to be from Sunnydale. Xander knew the next big bad on the agenda was Spike and Drusilla’s preparations for the Judge, but he didn’t care. Xander had already gone through the legendary demon no less than a dozen times, and simply kept killing vampires until he came across Buffy & Angel fighting half a dozen vampires.

Xander noted two vampires rushing away from the scene with a crate over their shoulders and assumed it was a body part of the Judge. The vampires fighting Buffy and Angel were desperately throwing themselves at the pair, as if it was less about trying to kill them, and more about delaying them. Even still, Buffy and Angel were much too experienced to be beaten by four vampires. Xander was set to chase after the two vamps with the crate when another four vampires showed up to help their undead brethren.

‘With their experience, two-to-one was fine,’ Xander thought with growing concern. ‘But four-to-one…’

Buffy and Angel were immediately on the defensive, dodging, blocking, and keeping the terrifying vampires from completely surrounding them. Though his friends had great footwork and experience, Xander felt nervous. A little luck on Buffy’s side and she could take out one or two, alleviating the pressure, however, with some luck on the enemy’s side, there was a higher possibility for Buffy or Angel to be hurt or killed.

The fear of looping back had Xander quickly secure his camo scarf up to the bridge of his nose. He then lowered his black beanie to his eyebrows before unsheathing Hellguard, his new seax Viking dagger. Xander quietly rushed the melee from an unsuspecting angle, enhanced his arm strength with his ring, then hurled his dagger into the back of a vampire approaching Buffy’s rear. The sharp blade was buried into the cold flesh of the supernatural corpse with a heavy THUD. The vampire fell forward on the grass beside the Slayer, with the hilt of the dagger sticking up for Buffy to effortlessly grab and utilize.

Xander threw his battle axe into the chest of another vampire before taking out his wooden knives and fighting with one in each hand. As ever, no demon, vampire, or entity without a soul could lift Dreadnought—and now Hellguard—leaving one grounded while a strengthened Xander weave, slip, and counter the other two. With the incredibly sharp Hellguard in hand, Buffy was making quick work of the four she was fighting. Xander dusted one with his wooden blade to the heart while Buffy was already helping Angel finish off his group.

Feeling the need to leave, Xander stabbed his last vampire in the forearm with his wood knife to distract it while he stepped back and summoned Dreadnought. Heavy metal hummed in the air to his grasp as Xander spun and cleanly decapitated the vampire. He then ran, hoping Buffy decided not to chase after him. Ring or not, there was no way he was going to outrun a slayer without seriously injuring his muscles.

Hurdling over tombstones and ducking branches, Xander sprinted a quarter-mile to his bike, and only then did he feel comfortable she wouldn’t chase him down. As he started his scrambler, the teen warrior extended his hand and waited for a moment. Once Hellguard flew into his grip, he peeled out of the cemetery’s parking lot and back home.

—B—

Huffing from a tough skirmish, Buffy stared in the direction the man in black went, wondering if she should chase after him. He saved her and Angel from being forced to run or sustain serious injury, and she was grateful. Looking at the pattern-welded long dagger in her hand, she wondered if there was a way to use it to track the mystery man down and thank him for saving them.

Eying the weapon with growing curiosity, Buffy asked Angel, “Who do you think that was?” Crouched down, Angel sniffed the dust-covered wood knife left behind until he hummed in recognition, prompting the slayer to ask, “You have something?”

Angel stood up, and Buffy loved how tall he was. His handsome face looked deep in thought as he spun the wooden blade in his fingers. She thought he might’ve had a clue, but then her ex-boyfriend shook his head before answering, “Not sure. It’s probably nothing.”

Feeling that powerful pull in her heart at the sweet sound of his deep voice, Buffy stepped closer to Angel. Being so close to him, breathing in his comforting scent, she felt like it took all of her energy just to stop herself from holding him. She clenched her fist tightly, hoping the pain of her nails digging into her skin would keep the dark thoughts of how unfair being forced to break up was. They both knew breaking up was to save lives, but that didn’t stop her from hating every minute of it.

Clearing her throat, Buffy tried not to sound too playful as she voiced, “Famous last words before it turns into something that bites and steals your shoes.” His slight smile nearly made her heart burst with happiness, but flashes of dead bodies and Angel, crippled with guilt, made her shake her head of the feelings fogging her reason. “I’m just saying, you can tell me… We’re still a team.”

He looked just as pained as she felt before he sadly said, “I know.”

Buffy stepped back for her own good, then looked over the exceptionally fine dagger in her hand. Angel moved closer and Buffy ignored his alluring scent as she asked, “What was up with his weapons? Did you see how the axe zipped straight to him? You think he could be, like, some sort of warrior wizard or something? Don’t wizards normally use wands or staffs? Xander would kno-”

Buffy stopped talking at the mention of her former friend. Buffy hated everything about her life at the moment. She didn’t want to be angry at Xander just like she didn’t want to stay away from Angel. However, to be friends with Xander and not be Angel’s girlfriend just felt too unfair to accept. Squeezing the well-balanced dagger, she hated how much of her days have resorted to feeling angry or depressed. Buffy couldn’t imagine how long she had to feel so dead inside, but she didn’t think she could do it for long.

Unexpectedly, the dagger was pulled from her hand with substantial force. Angel and Buffy watched t rotating weapon speed through the air in the direction of the mystery man. They shared a look, unsure of how to fit this development with everything else they’ve been seeing of late. The pair of them had been meeting more frequently to stem the rise in vampire attacks. To add a mystery fighter in black, helping them slay vampires, they had to wonder if there was a link.

Angel said, “I’m not sure what to think about this guy or his weapons, but I’m more concerned with the increase in vampires. Something’s going on. And I don’t like it.”

With a nod, Buffy replied, “I’ll talk to Giles.”

The moment she always dreaded was upon them. Though the attraction between them was palpable, Angel reluctantly pulled away, and left, leaving her alone.

—X—

Christmas came and went uneventfully for Xander, however, despite his sadness, he had fun. He visited Willow first and gifted her with a dozen of the best magical books he could get his hands on. The beautiful redhead was so ecstatic, she could barely talk to him over her eagerness to read them. After leaving the Rosenbergs, Xander found Giles at his apartment and gifted the watcher with a rapier he made. The thrust-style weapon, with a leaf guard, wasn’t magical, but the Englishman enjoyed it nevertheless. Giles served tea as he asked Xander details about forging.

After talking to his parents and Cordelia over the phone, and leaving a message for Kendra, Xander spent the rest of his Christmas with Jenny. They ate pizza and watched two movies as they talked about silly and innocuous things. Xander tried calling Buffy to wish her a Merry Christmas, however, he only spoke with Mrs. Summers. They talked for a good twenty minutes, and at the mention of a headache, Xander actually recalled how she died of a brain aneurysm. He spent next five minutes talking about the dangers of ignoring potential symptoms and highly encouraged her to get it checked.

New Years was spent with Cordelia and for the first time in the loop, they went all the way. As backed up as Xander was, he orgasmed inside her eleven times throughout the entire night and morning, satisfying the gorgeous cheerleader thoroughly and repeatedly. Fortunately, Odin’s ring allowed him to recover much quicker than ever before and he utilized its sensational effects until the gasping girl couldn’t go any further.

Come morning, Xander held Cordelia in his arms and was surprised by how different he felt about them as a couple. Before his conversation with Merlin, Xander cherished their spontaneous connection, however, now that he considered the deep-seated impulses possibly at play, he wondered if it was healthy to love her without questioning their feelings. Despite their similarities, they had even more differences. And despite the reasons, he did hurt her a lot.

Xander made Cordelia breakfast in the morning and they exchanged Christmas gifts before indulging in more gratuitous fornication. A few weeks later, she came by on his birthday, and after discovering his new living condition—especially how bare most of the rooms were—she begged him to let her decorate. When she made it clear sex would be even better if he said yes, Xander readily agreed and they had a marathon of sex sessions. One of her gifts to him was a lot of lube and her anal cherry.

Xander had been fighting vampires and a few demons all the way to Buffy’s birthday without her finding out, however, he learned she was only one of two fighters who didn’t know. At the beginning of January, Angel was waiting for the stealth-dressed teen by his bike.

He had his hoodie over his beanie and his camo scarf covered half of his face, yet Angel greeted, “Xander.”

Rolling his eyes, Xander lowered his scarf as he lamely returned, “Angel.”

The teenager walked over to his bike as the brooding vampire cautioned, “You need to stop what you’re doing.”

“That’s vague,” the tired teen pointed out as he clipped Dreadnought to the side of his scrambler. “Do you mean washing my gear with lavender-scented detergent or just existing in general?”

“Neither,” Angel answered, then paused a moment before correcting himself. “Actually, stop using the lavender. It makes you easier to track.”

Of course, Xander knew that and answered, “Maybe that’s what I want.” Having noticed how often vampires attacked women, he thought using scent would be a good snare for that behavior.

“And why would you want that?” Angel asked from the other side of Xander’s bike. “Trying to get in Buffy’s good graces by slaying a few vampires?”

Instantly irate, Xander looked at the taller man and asked, “Don’t you mean the tentative mercy of an emotional dictator?”

The vampire kept a cool expression, studying the teenager with a discerning eye before voicing, “You seem overly upset about Buffy giving you the cold shoulder. Cut her some slack. Deep down, she still cares about you. She’ll come around.”

Leaning forward, Xander hotly contested, “Do me a favor. The next time you see Buffy, redirect what you just said to her, because it goes both ways.”

At the sternness in Xander’s face, Angel raised his eyebrows and took a step back before mentioning, “When they said you guys were fighting, I didn’t expect it to be so… candid.”

“What can I say? I shoot from the hip. Night-”

“Wait,” Angel asked, stepping closer and stopping him from getting on his bike. “I came to ask about your weapons. I don’t care why you want to keep this from your friends, but I need to know where you got them.”

Confused, Xander looked at him with squinted eyes before asking, “They didn’t tell you I work at a forge now? Wild Dinks on Cuhanga.”

“A forge?” the vampire curiously repeated, seemingly trying to make connections to the people he knows. Coming up with nothing, he further asked, “Can you tell me who gave them to you?”

Xander followed the vampire’s eye-line to Dreadnought, then answered, “You may not believe me, but I made them myself.” Angel’s slanting deadpan expression, as if he was waiting for the actual answer, made Xander scoff and retort, “I know, ‘what? That Xander did?’ Shocking!”

“Really?” he asked with genuine curiosity.

“Yeah,” the animated teen asserted.

“...You did?” he asked again. Xander slanted his head and looked at him with peeved eyes. After a moment of consideration, Angel explained with an annoying level of rationale, “You’ve never displayed this type of skill before and you want me to act like it’s normal for you to fight vampires using magical weapons?”

Acknowledging no one in this loop knew he’d spent decades learning his skills, Xander shrugged with a measure of defeat before begrudgingly admitting, “Suppose you got a point. Doesn’t change the fact I forged them myself.”

Nodding, Angel moved on to ask, “How many have you forged?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions for a guy who won’t answer any of mine.”

Squinting his eyes in clear befuddlement, Angel pointed out, “You haven’t asked any.”

“That’s probably because I want to go home and sleep!” he loudly professed. “It might be a spry morning for you vampire-folk, but us regular mortals are dragging ass at this time. So…”

Xander hopped on his bike before turning it on. Angel moved in front of the softly purring motorcycle as he warned him, “If you don’t stop whatever this is, you’re going to get yourself killed. Then Buffy’ll really be angry with you.”

Xander snickered mirthfully before raising his scarf over his nose and speeding away. The teen didn’t heed Angel’s warning, despite running into the pair a few times on patrol. Judging by the questions Buffy asked as he left, Angel evidently hadn’t revealed his true identity to anybody in the gang, which he could appreciate. Xander saw Angel once again, a few days after Buffy’s birthday. In fact, he was visited by the entire gang.

Giles, Willow, Oz, Angel, and Buffy showed up at the forge when he had finished up. He was getting out of the locker room, drying his longish black hair from his shower earlier, when they came rushing into the hallway past the front office. Willow was happy to see him, giving him a powerful hug, while Giles remained all-business. Despite the threat at hand, Buffy stayed in the back, seemingly irked for having to be there while the others seemed pressed for time. Xander didn’t have the energy to act surprised. He simply kept drying his ebony hair in the hallway as he looked at them.

“Xander,” Giles started, then took the lead to explain their need for his magical weapons.

When Xander asked, “What for?”

Buffy replied from the back, “He doesn’t need to know.”

Turning to the slayer, Willow pleaded, “Come on, Buffy.”

“Xander, there isn’t much time to explain,” Giles continued. “Will you please trust us? It’s a matter of life and death.”

Calmly, Xander pointed out, “It’s a matter of life and death, but even something like that isn’t enough for you to be upfront with me?”

“This isn’t a game,” Angel voiced with some edge.

Holding the ends of the towel slung around his neck, Xander sighed while he nodded in agreement, then asked, “Everyone but Buffy wait outside.”

“Come on, Xander,” Willow tried.

“It’s okay, Wills,” he replied, patting her shoulder. Giles took a calculating look between Xander and Buffy, then ushered the others back down the hallway and outside. After the watcher, Willow, Oz, and Angel left, Xander turned around as he voiced, “Come on.”

Without waiting, he walked down the other end of the hallway, which led to the sanding room. From there, they walked in silence through the forging room, welding benches, and their final destination: the storage room. Xander unlocked the prison-style bar door of the room, then walked to his personal storage space. Unlocking the steel mesh cage, Buffy was stunned to see so many weapons; swords, axe heads, spearheads, and a few daggers. As Xander grabbed the new and improved Slaymore, Buffy pointed at his three-foot battle axe with explicit recognition.

Xander wasn’t sure he was going to make Slaymore again. He was still furious at Buffy, however, that was precisely the reason why he decided to make it once more. Despite feeling repulsed by what she did with Spike, he didn’t want to loop back upon her death simply because he wasn’t around to help her. With Slaymore at her hip, Xander was certain Buffy could survive anything thrown at her, and he wouldn’t be forced to repeat this small section of life again.

“That axe…” Buffy started, staring at Dreadnought.

However, Xander shoved the sheathed sword into her hands, reminding her, “I thought I told you to call me when you needed me.” Irritation quickly returned to her beautiful eyes. Then, rather than reply, she turned to leave. Buffy jolted back when Xander didn’t let go. When she looked at him in confusion, he answered her questioning gaze. “Tell me what you’re fighting.”

“Xander, let go,” she ordered. “I don’t have time for this.”

“You know why that’s not my problem? Cuz you need me more than I need you,” he quickly answered. In his mind, he was calculating how close he could cut it before making it to the mall in time to kill the Judge. Certain they still had enough time, the raven-haired teen leaned in and asked, “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t.”

Leaning in herself, she gravely asserted, “People could die, Xander!”

“Funny how it’s fine and dandy for you to use that card when you need it, but I do the same thing, and it only pisses you off. Isn’t that hypocritical?” She tried to leave again, and he held the sheathed weapon by the middle as hard as he could. Cognizant she could toss him across the room if she wanted, he demanded, “Tell me what you’re dealing with so I can help you, you know, save the world and stuff.” She stared at him in silence, which was a good sign because, with her strength, she could’ve just pulled him along with her. Pressing his luck, he reasoned, “I made this weapon, Buffy. I did. I need to know what you’re fighting so I can tell you what it can and can’t do.”

The irate slayer begrudgingly deflated in resignation before answering, “...He’s called the Judge. Big blue guy; like a Smurf and an ogre had a baby. No weapon forged can stop him. Kills anyone with a soul.”

Xander nodded in appreciation, then nodded toward the handle. Buffy looked at the hilt’s metal guard and pommel are cast with images of fierce dragons and heraldic beasts. Understanding his unspoken words, Buffy gripped and unsheathed the gorgeous sword from the scabbard.

He introduced the weapon and its wielder with a showman’s flourish, boasting, “Slaymore, this is Buffy. Buffy, Slaymore. You’re going to love her. She can cut through steel without losing her edge. You’ll notice she weighs less than she appears. That’s because Slaymore is bonded to you, and weighs less in your hands than in anyone else’s. She’ll likely enhance your own abilities. I’m not sure how cuz I’m not a slayer, so be mindful of that. And it’s forged with blessed gold, so it’ll kill vampires easily.”

Buffy expertly whirled the blade in her hand and the slicing hum in the air spoke to her high skill level. He noted a slight smile on her face as she tested the weight of the blade. In another life, he would’ve relished the look of approval on her stunning face. Presently, she seemed like nothing more than a kid with a new toy.

When Buffy sheathed her sword, Xander expressed, “If this Judge guy regenerates fast, then Slaymore might not be enough. Where are you going to be?”

After a moment of silent contemplation, Buffy informed Xander, “This doesn’t mean we’re okay.”

“You’re wasting time,” he reminded her.

“Sunnydale mall.”

With a smile, he asked, “Was that so hard?” He didn’t care for a response and told the blonde beauty, “I’ll be there in forty minutes. Try not to die till I get there.”

Xander called Cordelia, and as ever, had her wear a sultry number before picking him up. They got in and out of the military base with two cases and rushed to the mall. With Dreadnought on his back, Xander and Cordelia rushed inside to the food court. Many people were hiding as they had before, while Buffy fought the muscularly large blue demon. He did indeed regenerate nearly as fast as it was cut, however, the wounds clearly hurt him, as he yelled with every cut Buffy inflicted.

Angel was fighting Spike and a group of vampires, and Giles, Oz, and Willow had their own fight to contend with. As before, Xander had Cordelia get innocent civilians out as he shouldered his assault rifle and started snipping vampires, starting with Drusilla. As Xander drew vampires to him from all angles, Cordelia, Giles, Oz, and Willow ushered the frightened civilians out to safety.

When Angel was close enough, Xander tossed Dreadnought to him, and wasn’t surprised the souled vampire could use it. Xander then called Buffy to get out of the way. He set the M72 LAW rocket launcher on his shoulder. Having always passed this moment onto Buffy under his misguided feelings of loyalty and affection, Xander relished pressing the square red button and blowing the Judge up.

“WWWHHOOOOOO!!” the excited Xander hollered as big smoking chunks of blue meat fell all over the floor of the food court. Shaking his head at the many splat noises, Xander quipped, “There’s no putting that Humpty together again.”

The vampires scattered after that, with an irate Spike carrying the wounded Drusilla away to safety. With everything settling down, Cordelia and Willow were the first to reach him, excited by his pivotal aid and surviving the battle. In their tame way, Oz, Angel, and Giles were just as happy to be alive. Buffy nervously approached Xander, who was packing everything up as he shared with his friends additional one-liners he had lined up.

She cleared her throat before softly voicing, “Xander?”

Turning to the mildly injured slayer—an abrasion on her forehead and cut lip—she didn’t seem angry anymore, but was quite awkward as she extended Slaymore to him, holding it in the middle.

Her attempt to return the magical sword brought a small smile to his face because such a tiny gesture helped separate the Buffy that hurt him from the one standing in front of him, if only slightly. Xander pushed back the sheathed weapon, saying, “Happy birthday, Buffy.”

Instead, he extended his right hand to the side, and Buffy quirked her brow, unsure what he wanted until Dreadnought flew out of Angel’s grasp and into Xander’s. “That-” Buffy started, just as shocked as Giles, Oz, and Willow. “That was you!?” she finished.

In disbelief, Willow asked, “You’re the Warrior Wizard?!”

Jovially, he replied to his dearest friend, “I’m not a wizard.” Xander turned to Angel to ask, “You didn’t tell them?”

Buffy asked Angel, “You knew?”

Seemingly uncomfortable, he cleared his throat before answering, “I… didn’t think it was my place.”

“Xander, about these weapons,” the hyper-curious Giles started. “Would you be kind enough to disclose how you came upon them?”

“Since when can you use magic?” the eager Willow quickly asked. Then she smacked his shoulder before demanding, “And why didn’t you tell me?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, drowning in questions here,” Xander called out. Eying Buffy, the teen suggested, “If it’s okay with her majesty here, how about I come by the library tomorrow and do a little show and tell?” Giles and Willow turned to the blonde and eyed her pleadingly. With a sigh, a slightly amused Buffy nodded. Lifting the cases, Xander finished, “Right, I gotta return these before the army come-a-lookin’.”

Xander and Cordelia left and ended the night at his place, where she enthusiastically showed him how aroused watching him fire a gun made her.

In the library the next day, Xander thought about his next series of moves. Spike was his biggest problem. He couldn’t kill the English vampire, but for his sanity, he didn’t want him anywhere near Buffy. In the previous extended loop, Spike left for months after being ensouled. If Xander could manage that faster—before summer—Buffy won’t be near him. All of this hinged on Jenny absolutely not dying, as her death was the only reason they refused to cast the curse in the first place.

Xander put the leather case he made for his axe on the table before untying the leather strings. He explained to Buffy, Giles, Willow, Jenny, Cordelia, and Oz, “Hardcover cases just break when I summon Dreadnought.” Giles and Willow were inspecting Dreadnought, Hellguard, and Slaymore on the table while he explained, “What’s important isn’t necessarily the runes, which is why you can’t write them down on any ol’ thing and expect it to work. The vessel and how you craft it is what’s really important.”

Xander explained how many blacksmiths don’t have magical ability, thus must’ve incorporated it into their weapons via other means. He continued saying, “It takes a lot of hard work, intuition, and preparation to tempt even a small amount of magic into a vessel, but it can be done. I modeled Buffy’s sword after Excalibur and my axe was originally supposed to be a hammer, but the material really wanted to be an axe.”

“Remarkable,” Giles gasped, inspecting every inch of the pattern-forged steel.

While Willow focused on the expertly etched dragon designs on Slaymore’s guard and pommel, the mesmerized redhead asked, “Can you make anything else?”

Smiling at their appreciation of his work, Xander answered, “I can make a lot, but I’m running low on materials of the magical variety.”

Looking up, the eager girl asked, “Such as?”

“The Du Lac Cross,” he began. “I melted it down and used that for the runes in each of the constructs. If I can get my hands on something else, I could make some other stuff.”

Raising her hand over the hilt of the sword, Cordelia flexed her arm several times before bemoaning, “How come I can’t make it fly to me?”

“Best guess? Only the master of the weapon can use all the features,” Xander easily returned before looking over at the blonde slayer. “Buffy…”

From the other side of the table, she looked at him in surprise, as if she wasn’t expecting to be a part of the festivity. Though he wondered where her head was at, Xander tilted his head toward her weapon, telling her to try. She raised her eyebrows before eying Slaymore. Willow moved out of the way as Buffy extended her hand.

When nothing immediately happened, Xander voiced, “Think about wanting Slaymore in your hand, like holding a friend’s hand.” The second she did, the Excalibur lookalike flew from the table straight into Buffy’s grip.

“Whoa,” Buffy gasped, eying her weapon lovingly.

“Cool,” Oz added.

With a cheery grin, Xander raised his hands and called the other two weapons into his grasp, then explained how he considered who he was making the weapon for during the forging process. “Or else it’ll just be a really good sword,” he finished. Now that he had everyone’s attention, Xander pivoted the conversation to something of grave importance. He told his battle buddies, “I have a way of dealing with Spike and Drusilla without having to fight them.”

They all perked up and Giles asked, “How might that be?”

“We ensoul them,” he easily answered.

“...You mean use the same curse Angel has on Spike and Drusilla?” Willow slowly asked.

“Yup,” he said, popping the p sound. “Think about it. They took the time, money, and effort to gather all the body parts that were scattered across the globe, and revive the Judge. Before that, they hired assassins and kidnapped Angel to heal Drusilla. They’re likely planning something else right now. We need to deal with them before they eventually score a win on us.”

“Or,” Buffy sounded with a thoughtful tilt of her chin. “I could just kill them.”

“Hasn’t happened yet,” he bluntly leveled with a wince. “And besides, why slay harder when you can slay smarter? Ms. Calendar and Willow can cast the spell from here, even though a defendable house would be better—magic reasons. Then we can relax knowing they’re suffering from the most cosmic case of guilt imaginable.”

“While I c-commend your creativity,” the prudent watcher began. “We cannot be certain of an outcome like Angel. It could be just as possible for Spike and Drusilla to kill with a soul.”

Eager for some revenge on Spike, Xander acted slightly slow as he reminded everyone, “Well, the curse forces them to accept remorse, guilt, and torment for all the lives they’ve taken; ‘Force’ being the keyword there. So, I’m betting they’ll be good little blood-suckers after that; guilt-ridden, but good.”

Cordelia and Jenny agreed with Xander’s plan, Oz abstained from a vote, and Willow remarked loving the chance to try her hand at heavier magic. Despite having a majority, Xander knew no one would feel right about ensouling Spike if the watcher and the slayer didn’t agree. Giles turned to Buffy, who walked up to Xander and asked if they could talk in private.

The raven-haired teen followed her into Giles’ office, where she proceeded to surprise Xander by saying, “I’m sorry.” Xander raised his eyebrows as she added, “You were right all along. I was totally slaying the messenger, and I shouldn’t have put what happened on you. You’re one of my best friends and I was wrong for treating you the way I did.”

Xander was as stunned as he was conflicted. On the one hand, he wanted to stay angry at her over the craziness of hooking up with Spike, but on the other hand, this Buffy hadn’t done that and did not know why he was punishing her with a cold shoulder. Though he couldn’t deny a small part of him missed her, it was the innocence he missed the most. Missing her also made what she did feel that much worse, because parts of him were much more conscious of how profoundly she could hurt him. Xander wanted to stay away from that, like a recovering alcoholic wanted to stay away from bars.

Still, standing up for himself and putting himself first didn’t mean he needed to be an asshole unnecessarily, and with a slow nod, said, “Thanks. Um, it’s like I said before, you know. It ain’t fair sometimes what you have to put up with. You’re like fate’s punching bag, so I get it. That’s why you have your rag-tag Scooby Gang.”

Buffy smiled gratefully at him, seemingly happy to have apologized, then gave him a powerful hug. He was slightly hesitant at first, but returned the hug while reminding himself she wasn’t the one that hurt him. Then she stepped back, and with crackling energy, she lightly smacked his shoulder as she boasted, “I can’t believe you’re the Warrior Wizard. You could’ve told me it was you.”

“When? I was in the doghouse, remember?”

“Yeah,” Buffy said with remorse. “Again, sorry.” Xander shook his head, deciding then and there to just try to move past the hurt. The bubbly blonde then asked, “When did you learn to fight like that?!”

In Xander’s first year-loop, he could always blame his combat ability on the soldier costume. Now that he dressed as Casanova in this loop, Xander went with an answer they couldn’t disprove, even if they doubted it. He lifted his right hand and wiggled the finger with Odin’s ring on it, and Buffy eyed the silver, beveled ring with runes written around it.

“Believe it or not,” he started. “It’s called the Ring of Power, but it acts more like a gateway of need and replication. If I need to heal from an injury, for example-” Xander rubbed the spot of his jaw where Buffy slapped him.

The beautiful blonde winced audibly before remorsefully asserting, “Really, really sorry about that. If it makes you feel any better, Giles gave me hell for days after that, and Willow totally gave me the silent treatment. I thought she’d never talk to me again. It was worse than prison.”

“Wow,” Xander voiced. “Even I’ve never gotten the silent treatment.”

“Don’t,” Buffy warned. “It’s terrifying.”

The smirk on his face when he said, “Well, you’re not forgiven,” made her smile and roll her greenish-blue eyes. “It functions on need, among other things. So, it can boost my strength if I really need it. Or, when I needed to know how to fight, that knowledge is then replicated from all the stuff I’ve seen, martial arts movies, tv shows, or one of my best friends kicking demon ass for years.”

Buffy nodded in understanding before condensing it to, “So… like monkey see, monkey do?”

“Pretty much,” he agreed with a nod.

“What happens if you lose the ring?”

“Then monkey dead,” he bluntly assured, making her snort. “So, you on board with my idea?”

Slanting her body to the side, as if she was unsure, Buffy slowly answered, “I don’t know, Xander. I’d kinda just rather kill him.”

“Trust me, I would love nothing more,” Xander strongly emphasized. “But I don’t think it’s the best play here.”

“Why? It’s pretty much the only play in the Slayer PlayBook.”

‘Unless you’re fucking them,’ he angrily thought. His chest constrained at the reminder and he quickly shook his head of those vile thoughts before voicing, “We’ve been fighting the same kind of fight for so long, I just think we need to switch it up. If it works, that’s two less vamps we need to worry about. If it doesn’t, then feel free to feed their heart a healthy source of concentrated fiber.”

Buffy smiled before nodding, and saying, “Alright, we’ll do it your way.”

“Sweet,” he returned with a nodding smirk.

“But I don’t want Mr. Warrior Wizard going out there anymore,” Buffy added, making Xander quirk his brow in confusion. “It’s amazing enough you survived this long. No need to push our luck.”

Uncertain about her stipulation, Xander asked for clarity, “You want me to stop?”

Confused herself by his reaction, Buffy slowly answered, “Well, yeah. Look, I know you have your tools, and you’ve been doing it for a couple of weeks, but you said it yourself. Without that stuff, you’d be in serious danger. Why take the risk?”

“Because it’s my choice,” he flatly answered. “And I don’t care if you’re the Slayer. You can’t take my choices from me.”

Buffy balked at his response before cautiously arguing, “Xander, you’ve helped out more than enough. And your weapons are the best thing since the invention of the wheel and A/C put together. But don’t risk your life unnecessarily to prove something.”

Xander could feel the edges of confinement clamping down on him and his shoulders tensed to combat the pressure as he asked, “This isn’t about me risking my life, is it?”

“What? Of course, it is.”

“No, I don’t think it is,” he returned, shaking his head. Even if she couldn’t see it, this restriction was clear as day to him. “This sounds more like you wanting to put me back in my box. Nice, safe, comfy Xander; good for a laugh, dishes out heaps of attention, and always follows obediently.” Xander stared straight into her eyes and told her without blinking, “We’re not watching that show anymore, Buffy. I’ve grown beyond that. So, if you don’t want me out there at night, you better give me a damn good reason to change my mind.”

On the very edge of anger, the hotheaded teen walked past her to leave, but Buffy whirled in front of him and demanded to know, “Your life isn’t a good enough reason?”

Over the conversation and nearly to the door, he answered, “If you really knew me, you’d know the answer to that.”

Buffy grabbed Xander’s shirt, stopping him. It reminded him of when she tried to stop him from killing Spike in the previous long loop. Xander had to force himself to remain calm, and once again, not combine the two Buffys as the blonde in front of him slowly asked, “Do you really think I don’t know you?”

He looked at her hand, gently placed his own hand over hers, then shoved it off, as if the touch was acidic. The dark-haired man leaned down as he gravely told her, “The Xander in your head and the one in front of you are not the same. The faster you realize that, the better we’ll get on.”

With no warning, Buffy quickly put Xander in a headlock, making him yell, “What the-” before her supernaturally strong arms squeezed him into submission. Though she had thin arms, her flexed muscles felt like steel wires under her soft skin, and he pulled against her hold with all of his strength, to no avail.

As the incredibly strong blonde forced Xander out of Giles’ office to the others, Buffy yelled, “Giles! I think Xander’s been possessed again- AAEEEEKKK!” The stunned girl hopped away, letting Xander go before whipping around and cupping her butt. With wide eyes, she looked at him in utter shock before shrieking, “Did you seriously just grab my ass?!”

Xander was massaging his red neck as he hurled back, “Did you seriously just put me in a headlock?!” Though irate, he couldn’t deny her firm, bubble-butt felt nice in his hands.

The others were gathering around, and Buffy hesitated to explain, “Well… you’re acting weird! Like, hyena-Xander-weird!”

“The only weird one here is you,” he retorted. “It makes total sense for Willow to be a genius AND good at magic, but I have something I’m good at, and I must be possessed by the spirit of a hyena again, right?”

Standing closer as he inspected Xander, Giles cautiously asked Buffy, “Do you truly believe he’s possessed?”

Saddened, Xander whirled on the Englishman, asking, “Really, Giles?”

“I-I-I’m sorry, Xander,” the adult voiced with a slight dip of his head. “But this is a lot to take in, and one can never be too careful.”

Xander sagged his shoulders in defeat as the slayer gently stepped forward and urged, “Just let us check, okay? And if-”

“If I’m not possessed, then what?” Xander challenged, standing straighter. Even if he could understand their position, it hurt, and he didn’t have to like it. Staring down at Buffy, the irate teen asked, “What other BS are you going to invent to ignore what’s right in front of you?”

“You must admit, from our perspective, you are acting rather uncharacteristically,” Giles prudently finished.

Turning on the older man, Xander returned, “And that couldn’t possibly be because I wanted to be more than a one-dimensional doormat for everyone to stomp on?”

“No one thinks you’re a doormat, Xander,” Willow said, trying to alleviate the tension.

“Well, not anymore, anyway,” Cordelia pointed out.

“I’m only going to tell you this once,” Buffy slowly warned, stepping in front of him. She was supremely confident in her ability as she told him, “Sit down, and let them check you out.”

Xander took a step toward her, looking down into her confident eyes as he suppressed his growing irritation just below the surface, and just as gravely asked, “Or what?”

Suddenly, the large library felt smaller and the tension between the two warriors was palpable as the room grew deathly silent. Looking into her amazing greenish-blue eyes, smelling her lovely scent, feeling her vibrant warmth, Xander didn’t care for any of it anymore. In his mind, the fact that she was so beautiful only taunted him more. Buffy’s beauty blatantly said he was worth less than an undead murderer, and that angered him every time. Xander was ready for a fight… itching for it.

That was, until Willow gripped Xander’s forearm and looked him pleadingly in his eyes as she asked, “Please, Xander? For me, just- just let us check.”

Looking into the brown, expressive eyes of his oldest and dearest friend, Xander felt his electric ire deflate. It was impossible for him to withstand her adorable effect on him. Rolling his eyes, Xander sighed before walking to a chair and slumping in it. The room was relieved, and it took Giles, Jenny, and Willow the rest of the day to try as many of the scanning spells as they could look up. Xander even took off his ring and begrudgingly let Buffy hold on to it. He only ever forgot his anger and was completely flabbergasted when one of the soul-type spells stated he was actually a hundred and three years old. Immediately, Xander’s mind wondered if that was the age all the loops accumulated to.

‘A hundred and three!’ he mentally yelled. His jaw dropped as he thought, ‘It took me that long to stop being so stupid? Fuck! How did Old Me even survive?’

The only way he could explain the number was using the Halloween costume and explaining that Casanova was pretty old when he died. Giles wasn’t sure if that could be the reason, and they used the spell on Buffy. When the results stated she was a seventeen-year-old girl, Xander just shrugged. He had nothing that could explain that. They found it odd, but without explanation, the magic wielders concluded that they needed to perform different diagnostic spells.

Xander stewed in annoyance until nightfall, when he had enough and was boiling. He stood up and grabbed his things as Buffy approached him, demanding to know, “What are you doing?”

Xander just glared at her, communicating with his eyes that he’s had enough. Buffy looked hesitant by comparison. Though she had complete confidence in her ability, he could tell by her lack of clear eye contact that she wasn’t sure about her actions.

Giles must’ve recognized the look, and for the sake of peace, said, “I believe that’ll be all, Xander. Thank you. We’ll, uh, begin researching the ensouling spell tomorrow.”

Xander extended his palm, and Buffy gently placed his silver ring on it. He walked past her, bumping her shoulder without uttering a word, and Cordelia followed him out of the library. In the student parking lot, Cordelia couldn’t help remarking, “I thought you loved her; like gross, obsessive, puppy love.”

Careful, but honestly, he answered, “Whatever I felt for her fell off the pedestal and into the mud.”

Xander was clipping Dreadnought to the side of his scrambler when Cordelia hesitated to ask, “So… what am I?”

“You’re Cordelia Chase,” he joked, though he knew what she meant.

Not having any of that, she replied, “What am I. Not who.”

In the moment of silence that descended, Xander knew Cordelia wasn’t the kind of weak, feeble-minded girl you lie to or sugarcoat the truth with. She could handle it straight, and so Xander walked up to her. Inches apart, he cupped her cheek as he honestly expressed, “You’re one of the few people on this planet that I love.”

She saw right through him, and stepped back—out of his cupped hand—as she softly replied, “But… you’re not in love with me?”

“I love you, Cordelia,” he promised her, however, the unconscious way she crossed her arms told him she was hurt and on the defensive. Still, he remained honest and confessed, “Just like how I know you love me. But, you’re not in love with me; not really.”

Cordelia was someone Xander thought a lot about, especially after talking to Merlin. The idea that Cordelia might love him, not because he was special, unselfish, funny, exciting, or attractive, but because she unconsciously recognized a familiar suffering, didn’t seem healthy. In his Old Man memories, he cheated on Cordelia just like Willow cheated on Oz. But despite the same caliber of infidelity, Oz took Willow back while Cordelia didn’t take Xander back. Was that real love or did the illusion just break? Xander couldn’t be sure, however, now he was more than brave enough to test the hypothesis that Cordelia didn’t actually love him as completely as he once thought.

“You and me, we’re super similar,” Xander confidently claimed. When she was on the cusp of refuting his assertion, he put his palms up right away, then reassured her, “Yeah, yeah. Aside from how attractive and popular you are.”

“And rich,” Cordelia hotly added.

With a sly smile, Xander returned, “We’re both on that level now.” At her small smile, he continued, “We got a lot in common where it counts, and there’s nothing wrong with love that stems from a familiar feeling. But when you’re in love with someone, you see a future. And I’m willing to bet when you think of me, you’re not dreaming about a house, a bunch of kids, or growing old together. You like how I make you feel; something like, ‘this guy gets me.’” For Cordelia to be silent, he must’ve been on the right track, and finished, “You’re amazing, Cordelia Chase, and I’ll love the shit out of you no matter what we go through, but you’re not the girl I’ll torment for decades in holy matrimony.”

Cordelia turned around and walked to the driver’s side of her red BMW. She unlocked it, opened the door, and seemed as if she was going to leave without saying anything. Instead, she turned around and told him, “That would be torture, now that you mention it. I have homework to catch up on tonight, so...”

Xander nodded, then she drove away, knowing he hurt her once again, and hated it.