Shadowmen

Buffy was irritated well into the following day by her encounter with Nox. In a white blouse, black skirt, and black knee-high boots, the blonde beauty vented to Xander, Willow, and Giles continuously throughout the day; breaking pencils, mumbling profanity to herself, or sighing. Whether the friends were walking down the hall, studying for a test in the library, or outside eating lunch; the Slayer was too frustrated to forget about the encounter.

After school, the Scoobies gathered in the library to discuss and research any details about Nox, however, Buffy’s aggravation sometimes got the better of her. Xander and Buffy were seated on one side of the long table while Willow sat opposite them. Giles was pacing in the open space in front of them, thinking.

Buffy vented in growing aggravation, “He thinks he’s hot stuff because his stupid eyes are made of night lights, but he’s not!”

“Buffy, please,” Giles patiently sighed, trying to get his blonde charge to focus. “I asked if there was anything else you might’ve recalled from last night.”

With her hundredth sigh, the aggravated Slayer answered, “No. Just everything I told you.”

As much as Buffy was frustrated throughout the day, Xander was always so near to laughter. The slightest provocation had the potential to make him burst out laughing; when Buffy mumbled in class, ‘I hope you get pink eye,’ before unintentionally snapping another pencil, Xander had to look away and bite the inside of his cheek to keep from cracking up.

Lifting a book up, Willow commented, “It says here that Nox is Latin for night.”

Nodding, Giles chewed on the temple tips of his glasses as he repeated, “A slayer of sorts…” Turning to Buffy, he asked, “And you’re certain he said, ‘Shadows of man?’”

Seated lazily in her chair, Buffy glumly nodded.

Xander asked the Watcher, “Is a male slayer a thing? ‘Cause if it is, where do I sign up?”

“There can’t be,” Willow asserted. However, preconceived notions had her follow up with a curious, “Can there?”

Feigning offense, Xander teased, “Whoa, Wills. You got a bit of sexism showing there. The prestigious Scoobie Gang organization has always been about equal opportunity slayage.”

“Wha- So am I!” the redhead hastened to assure everyone. “I just mean… I’ve never even heard of a male Slayer before.”

Deep in thought, a distracted Giles slowly answered, “That’s because not a single documented case, legend, or rumor exists to support such an existence.” The Watcher stopped pacing and straightened up before adding, “But...”

“But?” Buffy repeated, sitting up. “There’s a but?”

Giles’ face was constrained with uncertainty before he reluctantly admitted, “I can’t be certain, nor is what I’m thinking possible, but…”

Xander comically reiterated, “There he goes with that ‘but’ again.”

Buffy smirked before turning to her Watcher and seriously asking, “Giles, what is he?”

“Well, if-if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say a wizard, possibly an ancient one,” he speculated, cleaning his glasses with a white handkerchief. “The glowing eyes, magical weapon, enhanced strength, and whatever else he has yet to reveal. A wizard would certainly fit the bill, as it were.”

Recalling the fight, an unsure Buffy contended, “He definitely didn’t fight like a staff-carrying stiff with a long beard.”

“But he is on our side, right?” Willow asked the group. “He helped with Ted and now we know he slays vampires, too.”

“We must learn more about our mysterious Mr. Nox,” Giles stated to the room. Turning to his glum charge, the Watcher requested, “Buffy, when next you meet him, try to learn more; anything, if possible—but if you’re able, his age.”

Buffy rolled her greenish-blue eyes, irritated by having to deal with him again. “Ugh, I bet he thinks he’s, like, king slayer or something, but he’s not. If the Hellmouth opened up and swallowed him whole, they’d spit him back out for tasting like, like festering boils… on, on the anus of a reanimated rat corpse!” At Willow and Xander’s pained and queasy look, Buffy warily asked, “Too much?”

Xander casually remarked, “Only if you suffer from a vivid imagination and, or, are human.”

Willow nodded in agreement before sympathetically observing, “Nox really got under your skin.”

Xander couldn’t help but ask, “Did he interrupt some heavy smoochies between you and Angel or something?”

Reluctant to answer, a blushing Buffy heatedly returned, “...Th-that’s not the point!”

Later that day, Cordelia once again relegated Xander as her geek-vaccine, helpful to her only in relieving whatever attraction for nerds she might be afflicted with, and for the next two months, their physical relationship progressed much the same as it had in previous loops. They’d sneak away to closets and empty classrooms. Xander would come to her house, and with his skill, the pair progressed from first base to second, to third, and on New Year, they had sex. Xander didn’t doubt he completely rocked her world, but since the gorgeous cheerleader wasn’t a virgin, Cordelia was the first girl he got to use his enhanced length, girth, and a penetrating crown on. The fact he was so confident, big, knew all her weak spots, and had bottomless energy made Cordelia catatonic a few times from the intensity of the rolling waves of pleasure.

Despite their physical compatibility, Xander didn’t push for an official relationship status, like he often did in previous loops, and found the lack of pushing very telling. It was obvious to him why Cordelia wouldn’t push to be a couple—her public image meant a lot to her. However, he didn’t expect her to be content with just the physical aspect of their relationship. Without rejecting his desire to become an official couple or explaining how to please her sexually, the Sunnydale queen had little else to say. They took jabs at each other, chatted about school, or made out, but little more than that. It wasn’t that Xander needed more. What surprised the time looper was that if he didn’t push for something official, Cordelia wouldn’t push either.

Nevertheless, he mentally reasoned, ‘It’s only been two months. If it was a year, I bet she’d push to define what we were doing.’

Aside from Cordelia, Xander did plenty of other things during December and January. He once again forged Hellguard with the same traits as Dreadnought, started on Cordelia’s Draupnir ring, and spent as much of his free time working on the mansion’s repairs as he could; taking him back to his soothing carpentry days. Chief among his new tasks was talking to Faith.

Xander learned a lot about the sexy brunette during their pillow talk in the previous long loop. Helping her much earlier than in previous loops felt like a side quest to retain as much of his humanity as he could. He knew it was an incredibly selfish reason. He should want to just help people simply out of the kindness of his heart… but Xander just didn’t feel that anymore. Most of his life felt like he was rolling with the motions.

For his loose plan to work, he needed to talk directly to Faith, but calling her in Boston was difficult. There were sixteen Pat Lehanes in the phone book and he couldn’t be sure if Faith would be there to pick up the phone. Call after call, when anyone other than Faith picked up, he’d ask for Faith. If she didn’t live there, he’d apologize and hang up. Faith’s home number was the thirteenth Pat Lehane he tried, however, she wasn’t around often. After calling four times, Pat yelled at him for calling so much, forcing Xander to call once a day until Faith finally picked up.

When the hard-edged girl finally did, Xander recognized her husky voice immediately, but still asked, “Who’s this?”

“You called me, asshole,” the irate girl replied, making Xander grin.

‘Bingo,’ he thought before employing his acting skills. With genuine feeling, Xander innocently expressed, “I… it’s just, I’m looking for my parents. This is the number they gave me.”

“The only parents here are mine, and trust me, you don’t want em,” she quickly asserted.

Hearing the cord moving like she was about to hang up, Xander yelled, “Wait, wait! Real fast!” When he didn’t hear the end of the call signal, he asked, “You wouldn’t happen to know a Jessica or Anthony Harris, would you? They go by Jess and Tony sometimes.”

“Nah,” she flatly answered before hanging up.

With a satisfied nod, Xander felt that went well. Given Faith’s abrasive and enigmatic nature, it could’ve gone much worse, and she wasn’t a girl that offered second chances. Xander waited a minute before calling back. Luckily, she picked up, and he said, “It’s me again.”

“Dude, I don’t know-”

“Yeah, fine,” he interjected. “I just want to ask if you know the popular bars in the Southie area. My parents, umm, enjoy a good drink or two… or ten… or more. It’s just, they told me they were going to Boston and gave me this number, but I can’t find them.”

He could hear her sigh and knew she was relating to the burdens of having alcoholic parents quite a bit. In the last long loop, neither one of them preferred talking about their upbringing, especially during pillow talk. However, every once in a while, Faith would make mention of her parents’ drinking, or her father’s gambling. They were off-handed comments, meant for a laugh, but Xander knew in his bones how serious she was. That was why it wasn’t a surprise when Faith gave him the names of some of the most notable drinking spots in South Boston.

After each name, Xander would ask questions like, “Do you think they’d remember heavy, non-Boston drinkers?” Or, “What’s your name? Faith? That’s an awesome name! Thanks for your help.” Or, “Do you mind if I give you my number just in case you hear anything?”

When she agreed, Faith asked, “What area code is this?”

“California.”

He could hear the shock in her voice when she replied, “Wait. Your parents left you alone in California? Who’s wiping your ass? Or feeding you?”

“It was a tough call to make, but around age ten, I figured I should start wiping my own ass,” he buoyantly answered, earning an unladylike snort from her. “I’ve been feeding myself. A lot of cereal and ramen noodles but I’m slowly moving into pasta.”

“Okay,” Faith oddly replied. “But, like, why? Are you even eighteen?”

“Uh, God, I wish,” Xander exclaimed, praying for the time braid to be over. “No, I’m not. My parents told me they came into some money, and then they just left. I get calls from them when they’re in a new city, but that’s it.”

“Man, I thought my parents were bad, but that’s fucked up,” she hotly retorted. “No offense.”

“Nah, nah, you’re good,” he reassured her. “Sounds like you understand. What are the odds?”

“Booze brings people together.”

“Like a terminal illness,” Xander comically remarked.

She snorted at his darker humor and they traded short but sweet horror stories about being raised by alcoholics. He told her about the cat incident and Faith told him about the insurance scam she helped her mother pull off at her job to gain disability checks. By the end, when she mentioned being pimped out to the son of a mob boss to pay back her father’s gambling debts, Xander was almost certain she was joking.

Even if she wasn’t, he told her, “Thanks for helping, Faith. And for talking.”

“No worries,” she said tensely.

Xander could tell she was nervous. He knew well Faith was uncomfortable with anyone whose motives didn’t seem apparent. It made her suspicious, and Xander knew this because he saw himself in Faith.

“Hope you find ‘em,” the anxious girl added.

“Yeah,” he replied before asking, “Would you mind if I call you back sometime? Not to sound like a horndog, but you have a sexy voice.” She snorted just before he finished explaining, “And more to the point, you get it. That’s a double whammy.”

Faith snickered before answering, “Yeah, I guess… ‘for nine-ninety-five a minute, you too can chat with one of Boston’s most seductive women.’”

Xander cracked out loud at the cheesy telemarketing sex worker imitation before cheerfully confessing, “That might just be worth it. Hell, I got a house full of stuff I’d happily sell.”

“House all to yourself,” Faith whimsically repeated, as if eager to escape her own home. “You lucky dog,” she teased.

Xander shook his head—even if she couldn’t see him—then replied, “I don’t know.” Looking at the clock, he added, “I’ve been talking to a total stranger for the past thirty minutes. I can’t deny it’s a little lonely.”

“You don’t have friends?”

“No, yeah, I do,” Xander answered. “And they’re great, but they… Uh, I guess they… just…”

With a sense of empathy, Faith’s husky voice finished his sentence. “They wouldn’t get it.”

“Yeah. I mean, they’d sympathize, for sure,” Xander asserted, feeling the need to defend Willow, Buffy, Cordelia, and Giles. “Like, they’re not bad or anything, but yeah. They’d just…”

“Yeah,” Faith mumbled.

Reluctantly, Xander said into the receiver, “Well, I guess I’ll let you go.”

“Yeah, uh…” Xander held his breath for three silent seconds before—to his relief—Faith added, “Call me back. Even if you do find them.”

“Really?”

“…Y-yeah,” she hesitantly answered.

Recognizing the trust she was placing in him, he lightened the mood by teasing, “Do I still have to pay nine-ninety-five?”

“Shii’, I’m not running a charity here,” she joked back.

They ended that conversation with laughter, but the pair talked again once a week. He’d tell her, “oh, my parents are in New York, now,” or, “sightseeing in London,” or, “taking a train to Italy.” When she asked where the money came from, he answered, “I was told not to ask too many questions, so honestly, I was a little scared they did something criminal—like rob a bank or sell drugs—but now I think they just won the lotto and didn’t tell me.”

For some reason, that made her laugh, even though she declared how messed up that was. As the weeks came and went, Faith opened up to Xander little by little—not about their burdens as the children of abusive alcoholics—but in comfort. The brunette Bostonian felt free to joke with Xander, all the while knowing she didn’t need to explain her home life since he lived it as well. The teen boy even helped her with her homework once. Eventually, Xander extended a standing invitation for Faith to stay with him if she ever came to Sunnydale.

During patrols through the cemeteries, Buffy started seeing more of Xander as Nox at night. He interrupted her time with Angel often, snatched her kills from her, and never stayed to answer her questions, annoying her more and more with every passing night. Angel tried to talk to Nox as well, but Xander just ignored him. During the day, Buffy would complain to her friends that she was sure Nox was being meddlesome on purpose, bringing entertainment to Xander’s jaded soul.

“There are like twelve cemeteries in Sunnydale!” Buffy called out while they were studying in the library. “Why’s he always at the one me and Angel are patrolling?” As Willow tried to explain the possibility of simply reading the same obituaries, Xander struggled to keep a straight face.

When the health class’s egg project was assigned, Xander once again partnered with the absent Buffy and kindly took the first watch of their egg-shaped child before promptly destroying it. Visiting Cordelia that evening, Xander replaced her egg with a normal one after they’d had their mind-blowing fun and then left for patrol as Nox. As he walked the silent cemetery, his eyes and ears were enhanced, and to his dismay, he soon heard Buffy and Angel making out—again—making him roll his glowing eyes.

Mercifully, the well-known Gorch brothers had excellent timing. Xander could hear the notoriously violent vampires mumbling nearby, and though he couldn’t tell what they were saying, he knew it was about Buffy and Angel. Lyle and Tector Gorch gave Nox the perfect excuse to interrupt them. With a smile on his covered face, Xander took off from his hiding spot and sprinted past Buffy and Angel toward the Gorchs. Speeding faster than any typical human, he knew the brothers were still too far to catch, but rather than properly sneaking up and killing the vampires, he had no misgivings about interrupting Buffy and Angel’s snogging.

As he threw Dreadnought at the running vampires, he predictably missed his target, embedding the axehead’s blade into the trunk of a tree. The attempt to kill the vampires gave off the impression Xander wanted and slowed his running to a stop near to his axe. Buffy and Angel caught up to him, stopping several yards from him. Surrounded by tombstones, Buffy wore form-fitted gray pants and a white long sleeve blouse, while Angel dressed in his typical black pants, black trench coat, and dark purple dress shirt.

“You again,” an irritated Buffy called. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

Nox turned to them. The whitish-blue glow from his eyes nearly resembled the moonlight shining down on them. The fact that Xander was dressed in black tactical gear, with most of his face covered and in the shadow of his hood, made the small patch of wooded area seem that much darker—as if focusing on the two bright eyes made the rest of the cemetery more eerie. The fog drifting around their feet was blown away when Xander called Dreadnought back to his hand with a CLAP.

Nox asked in his deeper, augmented voice, “Is making out in front of other vampires the only thing you two know how to do?” Buffy had the decency to look mildly embarrassed, while Angel remained stoic. Nox continued, “Did you even know you were being watched? Or is that part of some weird sex kink?”

Feeling more bothered by his questions, Buffy heatedly replied, “We- ...We were just taking a break!”

Turning to Angel, Nox asked, “How old are you, vampire? The Scourge has to be at least two hundred years old. But rather than behave like a mature adult, you’ve chosen to master acting like a hormonal teenager: young, dumb, and full of cum.”

“First: gross,” Buffy yelled before asserting, “Second: don’t get all high and mighty just because you caught us once-” Using his left hand, Xander put up five fingers and then three fingers—indicating it’s been eight times—making a blushing Buffy clear her throat before changing tactics and yelling back, “Well… If you’re so mature, why do you keep running away every time we ask you simple questions? Like, why don’t you tell us how old you are?”

“I’m old enough to know this thing between you two is like a car crash in slow motion,” Nox replied. “Easy to see it will not end well.”

Buffy inhaled and held her breath as her greenish-blue eyes widened, as if wronged. With a stiff jaw, she demanded, “Who the hell do you think you are-”

Nox interrupted her, nonchalantly citing, “When you’re actually doing your jobs, have either of you noticed the increase in vampire activity? Moving in groups, but not to hunt.”

Buffy blinked as confusion showed on her alluring face. The Slayer tried to answer, “I… uh.”

Angel flatly answered for her, “We haven’t.”

“Too busy inspecting each other’s tonsils?” Nox chided.

With clenched fists, Buffy took a few steps forward before hotly retorting, “I’ve had just about enough of you!” Xander was unconcerned by her passionate steps forward, or the stern finger she pointed at him as she declared, “If something’s going on, me and my friends will figure it out. And I promise you, we’ll do it way faster than you!”

Though Xander grinned, he doubted they could see his cheek raise behind the camo scarf. “Promises, promises, Slayer,” he ridiculed. Ignoring her and turning to Angel, Nox cautioned, “Heed my warning, vampire. Harm a single soul, and I come for your head.”

Angel’s shoulders flexed as he stepped forward, standing right beside Buffy, and harshly advised, “I don’t take well to threats, Sparkly Eyes. Either come at me or shut up.”

Unbothered, Xander walked away as Buffy yelled, “And his name is Angel! If you’re going to threaten to kill someone, have the decency to at least use their name!”

Xander mentally snickered as he left them. Before heading home, the teen snuck into his school and stowed away a bag with a spare set of his Nox attire. As he left the basement—passing the entrance to the Mother Bezoar cave—he was annoyed by his failure to get his clothes to magically appear on his body.

As Merlin structured rune arrays, Xander considered the elder’s Simple Task principle and split larger utilities and functions into smaller, specialized ones. However, the never-before-used runes in his head only left him with more variations to choose from, and thus far, no runic scheme felt right. Until Xander figured out the perfect sequence of characters to summon his attire on him—as if he were wearing it the entire time—he won’t have another option but to use spare clothes.

The following day, their teacher, Mr. Whitmore, was missing and the Scoobies investigated. They eventually become aware of the parasite demon controlling the students and faculty. Xander allowed himself, Buffy, and Cordelia to be knocked out by a mind-controlled Giles and Willow, but due to his ring’s power, he woke up before they were taken into a room full of eggs. As soon as their mind-controlled captors left, Xander exited the low-lit room and retrieved his tote bag, quickly putting on his jacket, hoodie, and scarf. He purposely wore the same black pants that day, so that he didn’t have to take long changing. With his newly forged Hellguard, he rushed back to the room and destroyed all the evil eggs just as Buffy was waking up.

Xander, as the glowing-eyed Nox, told her in his deeper voice, “They dragged the boy somewhere else.”

“Wha?” She struggled, likely dizzy. “Wh-Where’s Xander?”

“He’ll be fine,” Nox gratingly voiced. “We have to hurry.”

“Wa- wait,” the mildly sluggish Buffy protested, rubbing the back of her throbbing head as she eyed an unconscious Cordelia on the floor. Bringing her hand in front of her, her fingers were lightly stained with blood, indicating the wound wasn’t life-threatening. Buffy ignored it, checking on Cordelia as she told the masked man, “We can’t leave her-”

“The faster we kill the mother Bezoar, the safer everyone’ll be,” Nox coldly interrupted, already reaching for the door handle.

Buffy quickly grabbed his sleeve before stubbornly asking, “And if something happens to her while we’re gone? I’m not leaving her.”

Since Xander didn’t expect Buffy to know that Cordelia would be alright, he didn’t argue. He slid Hellguard into the holster at his lower back, then effortlessly picked up the unconscious cheerleader—princess style. They exited the dark room and walked down the low-lit corridors of the school’s basement level. Cordelia awoke when they nearly reached the dank cave that housed the mother Bezoar and all its possessed victims. Buffy had Cordelia stay behind her as they observed the helplessly possessed innocents digging a large hole in the center of the cave.

Unfortunately, the Gorch brothers appeared behind them. While Buffy took on the sadistic vampires by herself, Nox sprinted toward the wide hole. However, possessed students and teachers blocked his way, attacking him with shovels. With Odin’s ring and his Viking dagger in hand, a much stronger and faster Xander evaded, deflected, and shoved his way through the twenty bodies without seriously injuring them.

After getting past a possessed Giles, he sprinted that last few yards before jumping over the hole in the ground. Using his enhanced strength, Nox hurled Hellguard into the open maw of the monster like a metal ball shot out of a cannon. Its sharp blade sliced through the softer internal tissues with ease. With as much command over his Viking dagger as he had with Dreadnought, Nox clenched his fist and triggered the strongest force of electricity he could muster for as long as possible.

Millions of volts of electricity superheated the cool innards of the demon for a solid minute, creating an exponential expansion of super hot gas that resulted in a muffled explosion of steam and boiling monster innards. The demon’s eye exploded outward, sending bits of brain, mucus, and other internal tissue up to the ceiling of the cave and outward. All the possessed students and teachers dropped to the floor simultaneously—having been severed from the dead monster’s control—before monster warm guts rained on them.

Xander felt sympathy for them as he recalled Hellguard, and the boy was instantly grossed out by all the blue icor charred on the blade. With little else to do, Nox discreetly left the cavern, and after a quick change in the dark corner he left his clothes in, Xander rushed back to help Buffy fight the vampire brothers. The Slayer staked one in the heart, but the other Gorch brother escaped. Though empathetic, Xander, Buffy, and Cordelia stayed three feet away from the slimed victims. The smell was quite pungent.

After school the next day, the Scoobies discussed Nox at length in the library. Giles and Willow were of the opinion that the mystery axe-man appeared to be on the side of good, whereas Xander and Buffy actively doubted his intentions, claiming that he shouldn’t be trusted so easily.

As a point of argument, Xander reminded his friends, “He didn’t even rescue me!” However, on the inside, he was having a lot of fun playing both personalities, and continued spouting, “I had to get out on my own!”

An eager Buffy nodded beside Xander before she added, “And he left me to fight the Gorch brothers by myself! That’s as shifty as they come.”

Playfully wounded by her words, Xander reminded her, “Hey! I helped. I hit one of them with a big rock.”

With a grateful smile, Buffy reminded her best male friend, “Then he threw you across the room.”

“It’s called strategy,” he remarked, playing to his weakness. “I distracted him for you with my effortless ability to be manhandled,” he staunchly argued, making Buffy smile. Leaning down, he animatedly added, “You’re welcome.”

Eying the two teenagers with tremendous patience, Giles sighed before contending, “Be that as it may, Mr. Nox assisted in saving everyone possessed last night and eliminated the Mother Bezoar. That’s in addition to all of the good he’s done thus far.” Pacing in thought, Giles voiced with some frustration, “I only wish we could learn more about him.”

Reluctantly forgoing her ire for Nox, Buffy asked her concerned Watcher, “Will you finally tell us what your theory is? It’s been months already. You must’ve done all the research in the world by now.”

“Yeah, show us his baby pictures,” Xander exclaimed from beside her.

Buffy laughed as she added, “Glowy eyes and an axe in his hand right from birth.”

“That may not be too far off from the truth,” Giles remarked, making the teenagers stare at the adult in unexpected surprise. Even Xander was curious to hear what Giles’ suspicion was, as the Englishman began explaining, “In the Primordium Age, there was a group of exceptionally powerful wizards known as the Shadowmen; for all the black they wore and their concealed faces.”

“Shadow of man!” Willow snapped up, excitedly making that connection before realizing she might’ve been too excited and awkwardly settled down.

“That seemed to fit, yes,” Giles relayed to the redhead. He explained to them, “This group of men created the first Slayer.” Xander and Willow turned to Buffy expectantly, who shrugged her shoulders as if to say, ‘I didn’t know either.’ Old Man Xander had a faint recollection of these men when he was a Watcher. However, Xander had only said the ‘Shadow of Man’ phrase because Batman was Bruce Wayne’s shadow.

A baffled Buffy had to ask her Watcher for clarity. “You’re saying that this guy—who’s apparently ancient by ancient standards—was part of the group of wizards that created the first Slayer?”

“No, no, I don’t believe he is,” Giles answered, shaking his head. “But… I do believe there may be a link we’ve yet to uncover.” Turning to his ward, Giles pointedly said, “We’ll need more information if we’re ever to discern his origins.”

Buffy sagged in her chair and she returned, “I’ll try, but he’s not exactly Chatty Kathy.”

Giles cautiously suggested, “M-maybe attempt a bit more civil diplomacy.”

“Hey, I’m totally diplomatic,” Buffy protested, sitting up again. “He’s the ding-hole dictator for not listening!”

After that entertaining meeting, Xander purposely made it so the Scooby Gang didn’t see Nox for a couple of weeks. Before he ‘left,’ however, Xander visited Jenny Calendar as Nox. He picked the front door lock and waited for her in the dark living room. Less than thirty minutes later, the foxy teacher walked into her apartment with a brown bag of groceries. Kicking off her shoes on the way to the kitchen, she set her bag down on the counter and turned on the light. With the bit of light in the apartment, Jenny instantly gasped when she noticed the dark form sitting on her living room couch.

Nox brightened his whitish-blue eyes as he said in his deep voice, “I mean you no harm.”

The alert woman grabbed a kitchen knife from the wood block and pointed it directly at the mystery intruder. But for his glowing irises, she couldn’t identify any of his facial features, so she demanded to know, “Who are you!? And what are you doing in my apartment!?”

Nox stood up as he calmly answered, “I came to speak with Janna of the Kalderash people.” That surprised her into silence, and he asked, “That’s you, isn’t it? You go by Jennifer Calendar and work as an instructor at Sunnydale High School.”

Silence in the room extended for several seconds before the cautious Jenny asked, “How… How do you know that?”

“I’m conducting an investigation,” Nox calmly relayed in his deep voice, hoping all the while to convey that he truly meant her no harm. “And I need to speak to your uncle Enyos.”

“How-” She stopped herself to think. After a moment, she lowered the kitchen knife, likely realizing that the mystery man in front of her knew more than she could successfully hide. “I don’t know where he is,” she flatly answered. “The Gypsy people aren’t exactly known for staying in one place.”

“But you can contact him,” Nox contended. “A phone number. An address.”

“No, nothing,” she responded. “He contacts me, and only when he needs to.”

Even if she were lying, Xander didn’t care, since this was about meeting her more than anything else. Walking toward the sliding balcony door, he teased, “I guess you’re one gypsy that doesn’t mind staying in one place.”

“If that’s everything-”

“Practice your magic, Janna,” Nox interrupted, sliding the door open.

“Don’t call me that,” she demanded.

A light breeze entered the apartment, making the curtains billow around Nox as he informed the techno-pagan witch, “Something bad—exceptionally bad—is coming, and it’ll mean the end for all of us if it wins.”

As Nox walked onto her balcony—which was four floors up—Jenny asked, “Who are you?”

“Call me Nox,” his deeper voice said over his shoulder. Mentally, however, he was telling himself, ‘Alright Xander. Just like you practiced.’

Running up to the sliding door, Jenny asked, “Why won’t you team up directly with the Slayer?”

“Maybe one day, when she’s not so delusional,” he answered her, as he gripped Dreadnought tightly in his right hand.

Gripping the balcony’s edge, Nox leapt over the banister of the terrace, exhilaration filling him as he fell four stories down. The rush of wind in his ears was instant, and his organs moved into his ribcage. Xander couldn’t fly, but he could secure his feet on the handle of his now visible battle axe. With his immensely exceptional balance and firm footing, he positioned his hand a few inches above the middle of the handle, and gently called his axe to his hand. Dreadnought magically lifted his weight to reach his hand, slowing Xander’s descent moments at a time until he touched down on the soft grass with ease.

‘Good! Good job, Xan-man,’ Xander mentally exclaimed. ‘You didn’t bust your ass this time.’

Nox turned and eyed the stunned teacher for a dramatic moment before disappearing into the darkness of the cold night.