This Is You

After stopping Spike, Drusilla, and The Judge toward the end of January, the weeks that flew by were low in excitement and slaying. Xander hadn’t dusted over two vampires a night. On a few nights, he wouldn’t run into a single vampire, and as he patrolled the streets and cemeteries on his scrambler, it left him with plenty of time to think. He thought heavily about escaping the Time Braid; about the point of it all; about Buffy, and worst of all, Cordelia.

The spunky cheerleader had put a pause on their romantic relationship. Though he couldn’t ignore how alone he felt without the comfort of her familiarity, he understood why she would end it. Cordelia was headstrong and wouldn’t allow herself to show weakness by chasing a man who couldn’t see how amazing she was. Even after he gave her a slim gold ring he had made if they made it to Valentine’s Day. She was unimpressed with the simple precious gold until he revealed the magic embedded.

“It’s called Draupnir, or the dripper,” Xander had explained. “As long as you wear it, every twelve days, three gold rings ‘drip’ from the main ring, each the same size and weight as Draupnir. Collect enough of them, you can melt them into a nice bar of gold. Right now, the price per ounce is three hundred and thirty-four. Each ring is four ounces… twelve ounces total, so you’re looking at four thousand every twelve days.”

Cordelia’s eyebrows jumped, and she smiled before quickly controlling her giddy facial muscles. Looking from the shiny gold ring to him, the now stoic cheerleader simply asked, “Why? We’re broken up.”

“I made it for you,” Xander told her. “Whether we’re together or not, doesn’t matter. It’s still yours.”

Cordelia whined, then hugged him, asking herself, though loud enough for him to hear, “Why do you have to be such an idiot?”

Xander snickered and hugged her back. He loved her, and she loved him, and they would always be Xander and Cordelia. However, he wanted her to ruminate on his words about love. Like Buffy and Willow, she was one of a kind, and deserved better than a love based in the familiarity of past trauma. In any case, Xander left the ball in her court. If Cordelia wanted to continue anything, it would be up to her.

After a super slow patrol at his fifth cemetery, Xander was walking to his bike as he debated driving around the Bronze a few times before heading home. Reaching the empty parking lot of the quiet cemetery, he was surprised to see Buffy admiring every angle of his bike. She was wearing black jeans and a purple top under a black jacket. With her blonde hair in a ponytail and Slaymore strapped to her shapely hip, the beautiful girl was clearly patrolling as well.

Buffy turned to Xander as he approached, then voiced with a smile, “Really nice wheels.”

Xander lowered his camo scarf to say, “Thanks.” Removing Dreadnought from his back, he clipped the weapon along the side of his Suzuki scrambler as he admitted, “She was a pain in the ass to rebuild, but way worth it.” At Buffy’s small laugh, he quirked his brow as he asked, “What?”

Buffy’s smile persisted as she scrunched her nose, then answered, “It’s just really hard to accept this is you; on your motorcycle with your battle axe. It feels like the universe took a hard left, and we’re all just catching up.”

“Part of that is my fault,” he answered as he nodded. “Well, I guess all of that is my fault. There’s only so many jokes you can tell before people think that’s all you are.”

“You’re more than that, Xander,” she assured him with compassionate eyes. “You’re one of two in the best friend department and number one in the best male category.”

Internally, he rolled his eyes as he thought, ‘Typical.’ Though Xander didn’t want to be lovestruck by her ever again, he wasn’t a fan of being her friend either. She had preconceived notions of what being her best male friend meant, and Xander didn’t want to fit in that box anymore, remarking, “Well, that just won’t do at all.”

“It’s not your fault,” Buffy insisted. “Willow’s just like the sister I never had.”

“I didn’t mean that,” he stated.

The slightly confused look she gave him amused him, and stimulated an entertaining idea. The idea of breaking that box Buffy had for him, confusing her idea of him so utterly, sounded fun to him. Challenging her opinion of him would be a form of defiance and retribution, which greatly appealed to him. Though Xander would need to draw on buried feelings for her, he felt confident that in the end—when it came right down to it—neither he, nor Buffy, wanted a romantic relationship.

With a bold smile on his lips, Xander hummed a moment before playfully offering, “How about a deal? I’m assuming you still want me to stop being Warrior Wizard? Which, by the way, that name’s doing nothing for me. What’s wrong with the Black Axe, Hunter, Shadow? Hell, I would’ve gone with Raven. It’s cleaner; smoother to say.”

“Well, I don’t know,” she cutely defended before sadly uttering, “Warrior Wizard just stuck. It was better than That Guy with the Axe.”

“Yeah, I’d say you made the right call then,” he quickly tried to placate her. “Solid 9 out of 10.”

“Ah, the beauty of perspective,” Buffy joked, earning a smile from Xander. She then asked, “So, what’s the deal?”

“You be my valentine, and I’ll stop being Warrior Wizard.”

Buffy’s eyebrows raised, and for a moment, she was speechless. She didn’t even blink. Xander was about to repeat himself when the stunned blonde sounded, “Uh… You mean…”

Enjoying her uncomfortable confusion, Xander added with a smile, “I’m guessing you’ve heard of Valentine’s day. Lots of red. It’s right around the corner.”

Looking around their surroundings before settling her eyes on his bike, she deflected by asking, “Wasn’t it a massacre?”

“I think you’re thinking of the gang war,” he gave her. “Could be mistaken, though. Learning is hard.”

Finally looking at him, the apology was heavy in her expression as she sadly expressed, “I, uh, Xander, I’m flattered, really, but... I just don’t think of you that way.”

Unbothered by the rejection, Xander simply shrugged before replying, “Then I guess I keep on with my axing ways.”

Her eyebrows drew in as her confusion returned, “That’s a little manipulative.”

“It’s called a deal, Buff,” Xander replied. “You get what you want, and I get what I want.”

In disbelief, Buffy gasped before asserting, “Xander, I’m not going to be your girlfriend just to stop you from being stupid-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he quickly interjected. With some edge in his voice, he assured her, “I never said anything about you being my girlfriend.” Buffy looked confused again, and internally, Xander was thoroughly entertained. “If I’m being totally honest with you, I’m still pissed at you for the way you’ve been treating me. Your slap nearly killed me, and you still haven’t even apologized for accusing me of being possessed. So why would you think I’d forget all of that just to date you?”

At her surprised and mildly hurt expression, Xander had to tell himself to tone the ire down. Though he enjoyed mixing her up and telling her off, he had to remember that the Buffy in front of him didn’t do what the last Buffy did. This Buffy was confused and stunned by his reproach, because in her mind, she’s only done one or two things for him to be angry at, nothing to deserve prolonged ire.

Xander turned his bike on, revving it a few times before explaining, “I just want you to be my Valentine. That’s all.”

Shaking her head out of her stupor, Buffy asked, “Why?”

“Why? ...Because living in a box is uncomfortable-” At the distant sound of a long howl, Xander stopped talking. The howl and the bright moon instantly made him think about Oz, who had left earlier that evening because he wasn’t feeling well. ‘How the fuck did I miss that?’ he mentally berated himself as he told Buffy, “Get on!”

Surprised by the seriousness of his tone, she asked, “Wha- Why?”

“Need your Slayer senses,” he quickly explained. Gesturing with his head as he revved his scrambler to life, he yelled, “Come on!”

Buffy quickly hopped on and Xander took off to where he thought the howling was coming from. The blonde at his back gripped his waist harder when they cut between roads through rougher wooded areas. While Buffy felt like she was on an obstacle course in a motocross rally, leaping off hills and small ramps, Xander was kicking himself for forgetting about Oz. The desperate teen raced through any available space, listening closely for howling over the revving of his powerful motor. Fortunately, a slayer’s senses were supernaturally sharp.

Coming to a stop on a dirt path in a wooded area, Buffy heard a faint scream and pointed in the direction he needed to go. Xander gunned his scrambler through the area that turned out to be Make Out Lane. Scanning between the trees and bushes, the pair passed a few cars, one of which was rocking fairly hard, until they finally spotted an enormous werewolf on top of a screaming girl. Xander skidded to a stop, kicking up dirt and wood chips, then they saw a second person. This body, likely the terrified girl’s boyfriend, was lying on the floor and bleeding terribly from a stomach wound. Fortunately, he was wailing and crying, rather than silent and dead.

As he didn’t want to hurt Oz, or let the werewolf bite the girl, Xander tossed a few of his wooden knives at the beast, bouncing off the center-mass of its back and getting the creature’s attention. As Xander removed Dreadnought from the scrambler's clamps, the feral, growling beast turned to them. Oz was five-foot-three, but this beast was nearly seven feet tall. Its eyes were black pools with sickly yellow irises. Its saliva-dripping muzzle was filled with long, sharp teeth easily seen in the moonlight. Its hairy body rippled with wiry muscles, and the beast lowered closer to the ground as it approached the new threat.

Xander eyed its long, black claws and wondered if the werewolf could hold Dreadnought. He figured Oz’s good-natured soul was in there, but was it the same when he was in his werewolf phase? To his surprise, Buffy grabbed his weapon before rushing the beast, rotating it to use the blunt end as she yelled, “Get the girl!”

Xander didn’t hesitate taking out Hellguard as he ran around, yelling back, “Don’t let it bite you!”

Xander got the crying girl while Buffy fought the sturdy beast. The werewolf swiped at her with its sharp claws three consecutive times. She dodged the first two, leaning low, then moving back and using Dreadnought’s handle to block the third strike. Though the force pushed her back, the focused slayer parried the heavy strike, rotating the battleaxe to hit its snout with the blunt butt. It roared back in anger before attacking Buffy again.

When Xander reached the crying girl, she was mercifully uninjured. He tried to get her moving, but she was petrified in place, so he lifted her on his shoulder. Moving toward her boyfriend, Xander had to throw a wooden knife at the werewolf’s back, distracting it momentarily to give Buffy more openings and keep it from biting her. After a series of dodging and countering, the fierce slayer managed to smash its knee with the blunt side of Dreadnought, causing it to dart away into the forest.

As Xander was preparing the boyfriend for travel, wrapping the wound tightly, he told Buffy, “I’ll get them out of here!”

“I’ll follow it and make sure it keeps its pearly whites to himself,” Buffy returned. Xander quickly took off his black jacket with his bloody hands and extended it to her. The blonde shook her head, saying, “I’m fine.”

Xander rolled his eyes and threw it over her head. She pulled it off and looked at him in confusion before he reminded her, “In case I don’t find you by morning, whoever that is, is going to be naked.”

“Oh,” she sounded in realization. Nodding her head, she replied, “Right. Sorry.”

Using the ring to enhance his strength, Xander lifted the boyfriend on his shoulders, had the girl ride on his back, then rode as gently as possible to the hospital. Xander didn’t stay to speak with the authorities, and left to find Buffy. Returning to the battle site, he tracked the werewolf and slayer for the remainder of the night. It was just after dawn when he spotted Buffy and Oz walking down the street. Oz was wearing Xander’s black jacket and seemingly nothing else underneath. Buffy had a few scratches through her cut jacket, however, no worse for wear, which was a relief.

Xander gave Oz a ride home, and the following night, he drew first watch. While Oz, in werewolf form, prowled back and forth in the library’s steel cage, Xander sat at the long table in the middle, passing the time by sharpening wooden throwing knives with two thousand grit sanding paper. Since slayers needed far less sleep than normal humans, Buffy came in earlier than planned. Xander stood and grabbed his bag as she walked over and inspected his tactical-style knives.

Testing the sharpness of one of the wooden blades, she asked, “No special powers for these?”

“Nope,” Xander answered as he rolled his sanding paper and put it in his bag. “Just good old-fashioned wood and sanding paper. The runes I know have the hots for metal, so...”

“Why make them look like throwing knives instead of a normal stake?”

“I was going to make a holster for regular stakes, but the multi-knife chest harness was on sale; seventy-five percent off!” Xander admitted, to which she hummed in nodding agreement.

He began sweeping up the sawdust on the table and floor with a brush and dustpan when she eventually asked, “Are you still going out there? At night?”

Turning to her, he asked, “You mean with the axe?” At her nod, he answered, “Yeah.”

“Even after coming across a werewolf?” she asked in disbelief.

“Yeah.”

Moving closer to her friend, Buffy argued, “It could be something else tomorrow night, and you still think it’s a good idea to risk your life when you don’t have to? Call me selfish, but I’m trying to avoid going to your funeral.”

“Then don’t go,” he flatly contested. “And I do have to, Buffy.”

“But you don’t,” she wholeheartedly asserted.

He stopped cleaning to ask her, “How would you know?”

Xander could tell Buffy was ready to angrily retort, but restrained herself before confessing to him, “I just don’t understand, Xander. Help me understand why you’d go this far when you could just live your life any way you want.”

She seemed to genuinely want an answer, nearly desperately so, and the Casanova pattern within saw a crack in her armor. Xander imagined Buffy might envy those who weren’t destined to fight the forces of evil and could live a normal life. Buffy was a girl not unlike Cordelia when she was sixteen, then was called upon by fate to become a slayer. She was forced to give up any life she may have wanted for herself to fulfill a duty thrust upon her, and by all accounts, she did it well. Xander imagined Buffy wouldn’t choose this life if given the choice, however, she couldn’t know Xander was in the same situation.

At first, he followed Buffy because he instantly fell for her. Through Old Man Xander’s memories, he knew that his counterpart always held a torch for Buffy, through thick and thin, through her craziness with Spike, and even while married to Buffy’s sister Dawn. Old Man Xander was compelled into this supernatural fight by his heart, his feelings. That was no longer the case. Now, he had no choice. The Time Braid wouldn’t let him run to a normal life. Fortunately, he actually earned the skills to do the job now.

‘What to say,’ Xander casually thought, eying the beautiful girl in front of him.

Alone in the silence of the library, Xander couldn’t help being fascinated by her one-of-a-kind beauty. Her heart-shaped, warm-toned face was encircled by golden hair. The low bridge of her button nose between vibrant greenish-blue eyes, and her sensual red lips were captivating. However, Xander couldn’t forget the undead, blond bad boy she bestowed her beauty to, and as ever, his chest constrained at the memory. All the hopes he once had of a loving relationship with Buffy now felt like taunting torment, and worse yet, he was the only one who was forced to remember. None of this seemed fair, and suffering that alone felt like too much.

Taking a breath, he asked Buffy, “You sure you want to know why I’m doing this?”

“Yes,” she answered with a nod.

“Do you want the play-by-play or the short and sweet version?”

“If I don’t get the short version, can I get the play-by-play?”

While disliking the idea of purposely hurting her, or anyone, he did enjoy the idea of confusing her; of mucking up her idea of him. Xander stepped close to her and leaned down; not too fast, but not too hesitant, either. Leading with the lower half of his face, his intention to kiss her was clear. However, Buffy’s quick hand rested on his chest as she leaned back. With saucer-wide eyes, the surprised slayer looked at him in disbelief, making him smile.

Xander leaned back before he concluded, “I guess you don’t want to know.”

“Xander, just stop,” she hotly told him, as she took a step back. “I already said I don’t have those feelings for you.”

“That’s fine,” Xander said with a shrug. “At this point, I’d settle for some respect.”

Sternly, the cautious slayer retorted, “Hard to respect a guy who tries to harass girls.”

Amused by her reaction, Xander replied with just as much conviction, “Just as hard as to believe a girl claiming to be friends with a guy, but knows next to nothing about him.”

Exasperated, Buffy emphasized with her hands as she replied, “I don’t know where this crazy talk is coming from, but I do know you, Xander!”

“Oh? That so?” Xander challenged with a hint of a smile. “Do you know the names of any of the guys I work with at the forge?”

“…Uh,” Buffy sounded, unable to answer.

Amused by the way her eyes peered up and to the left as she tried to answer his question, Xander continued to ask, “Do you even know the name of the shop?”

“Oh!” she hollered with a snap of her fingers, “Wild… I want to say Dung, but that’s not right, is it?”

Xander shook his head before asking, “Do you even know my parents’ names?”

“Of course, I do-”

“Do you know where they are?”

Buffy looked confused by the follow-up question and asked, “What does that mean?”

“It means Pete, Nestor, Hakeem, Joe, Paul, Juan, Jimmy, just to name a few,” Xander answered with a bored expression. “It means the forge I’ve been working at for the past three months is called Wild Dinks, after Pete Dink, the owner. It means that my parents are gone, Buffy.” More than anything, the confused slayer focused on his parents. At her puzzled expression, he answered, “They came into some money, tossed a few bucks my way, and left… the state.”

Buffy’s entire demeanor changed. Her posture relaxed and her expression became empathetic as she softly voiced, “I… Xander, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Why would you?” he keenly returned. “You don’t know anything about my life that doesn’t fit this idea of me in your head. You don’t listen to me when I warn you about stuff like Ford, Eyghon, a second Slayer, or Angel’s curse. Then you boot me off the team because you’d rather blame the messenger than the powers that be. And let’s not forget you thought it was so impossible for me to make weapons, I had to be possessed. How do you think it felt sitting in that chair and being tested on by my friends if for no other reason than you didn’t think I could possibly have more skills than making jokes, paying you attention, or getting pummeled in fights?” Buffy was stunned by his assertion, and even still, Xander topped it by adding, “Do you really think I’d want to date someone so delusional?”

Xander leaned back, and when she couldn’t reply, he grabbed his bag and slid his wooden knives over the edge of the table and into it. Without another word, he turned to leave, and was nearly at the library door when Buffy finally thought to yell, “Then- why would you even want me to be your Valentine if I’m so horrible?”

Xander turned about, walked up to the befuddled girl in stoic silence, and leaned in mildly quicker than before. As expected, Buffy just barely avoided his lips by rotating her head to the side. She backed away as she hotly told him, “Why do you keep doing that?! Use your words, jeez.”

Humored by her anxiety, Xander smiled softly at her, easing some of the tension in the air, then answered, “Actions speak louder than words.”

“I’m okay with a whisper,” she assured him.

“I love you, Buffy,” he voiced with mild irritation, though how much he did, and in what way, was up for debate. Still, eager to confuse—to challenge—her, he asserted, “I should say, I’m in love with you. And I hate that I am. I hate what you do to me, but there it is. I’m here because I’m stuck. But even if I do have to suffer these feelings, I’m way past done being your doormat-”

Exasperated, Buffy attempted to reassure him, saying, “You’re not my-”

“Then act like it!” he instantly yelled.

Xander turned and left the speechless girl with the observant werewolf.