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buffyfic-digest       Tuesday, November 24 1998       Volume 02 : Number 376



In this issue:

       BUFFYFIC: Xander's Incredible Journey (7c/?)
       BUFFYFIC: ADMIN:  List rules

See the end of the digest for information on (un)subscribing to the buffyfic
or buffyfic-digest mailing lists and on how to retrieve back issues.

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Date: Tue, 24 Nov 1998 04:43:31 PST
From: "Cutter Kinseeker" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Xander's Incredible Journey (7c/?)

TITLE: "Xander's Incredible Journey"
AUTHOR: Cutter Kinseeker
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: Yes! Yes! Yes! Tell me what you think, but constructive
criticism only please. No "it sucks" type messages.
DISTRIBUTION: Ask me first.
RATING: Mostly PG-13 for language and adult themes. A couple of parts
will be R.
DESCRIPTION: In the aftermath of "Becoming," Xander sets out after Buffy
and winds up "becoming" in his own right. Xander and Cordelia find
themselves at odds in Las Vegas when they run across an old enemy. The
"two mysterious strangers" from Chapter Five(e) are revealed, and they
mess with Xander's mind.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: For those of you who were waiting for the newest
installation of XIJ, I'd like to apologize for taking so long. As you
may notice, this chapter approaches 10,000 words in size! That took a
long time to write, plus the fact that I had writer's block for a couple
of weeks, and the power went down one day and I had to rewrite almost
2000 words of the story. But finally, here it is. Tell me what you
think!
DISCLAIMER: I don't own jack. Correction--jack's probably the only thing
I do own. The rest belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and the Frog
Network.
SPOILERS: Everything up to "Becoming".

S   S
P   P
O   A
I   C
L   E
E
R

***

    Mornings were not Xander's strong suit. In fact, it could be stated
honestly that Xander hated mornings more than any other time of the day
or night; the only things that could rile him more were math and being
stalked by evil supernatural monsters. Fortunately, his math class was
several hundred miles away, and the only supernatural evil in town was
being held captive in the next room with Cordelia diligently guarding
him...
    Okay, now he was awake. In fear and panic over what he had done the
night before--leaving Spike with Cordy? was he crazy? what had he been
thinking?-- he stood and dashed into the other room, sure that he would
see a broken chair and Cordelia's drained husk... *Try not to think
about it*, he said to himself; *just take a look and make sure nothing's
wrong.* Xander's hands shook as he pushed the door fully open, and he
had a moment of nauseating deja vu as he remembered what had happened in
Bakersfield.
    The room came slowly into view, like a tension shot from a cheap horror
movie, revealing... Xander cocked his head to the side, unable to
believe what he was seeing. A grin tried to surface, but he managed to
submerge--just barely. Because there, in the center of the room, sat a
table; on one side, Cordelia, and on the other, Spike, his body still
bound to the chair but his hands free up to the wrists. Most
unbelievable of all, on the table between them, several piles of cards.
As Xander watched for a few moments, Cordelia laid down a card and Spike
retrieved it, laying down one of his own; a euphoric look crossed
Cordy's face as she began to lay down all of her cards in neat stacks.
Spike growled low in his throat as she discarded her last card into the
proper pile, a prim--if gloating--smile etched on her features.
    "Damn it!" he roared. "Not again! That's the tenth time in a row! Are
you sure you're not stacking the deck?" Cordelia shook her head, losing
her smile as she saw Xander walking into the room.
    "I kinda got bored," she said sheepishly, "and you were asleep. Can you
believe this place doesn't even have cable?" Xander was unable to
contain himself anymore and let loose his laughter, picking up Cordelia
and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Well," she said, a new smile
forming on her face, "good morning to you too."
    "It's my turn for ghoul watch," he told her kindly. "Why don't you go
get us some breakfast, and then get some sleep? We can decide what to do
with Spike tonight, after you're rested up." She nodded, went to the
bathroom for a quick change of clothes, and returned, picking up her
keys as she passed. At the door, she stopped and turned around.
    "What do want for breakfast?" she asked.
    "Well," said Spike unexpectedly, "a nice pint would hit the spot right
about now..."
    "Nothing for our guest, I'm afraid," said Xander quickly, his smile
turning to a moue of distaste. He turned to Spike. "I'm sorry that we
can't offer you anything, but the blood banks are closed today."
    "Quite all right," Spike responded with mock politeness. "I'm sure I
can go without another night... maybe."
    As Cordelia left, their eyes locked, a silent battle of wills raging
between them. Walking to her car, she wondered what was going to happen
to them all; she pushed such serious concerns out of her head as she
started to calculate possible prices for breakfast and locales at which
to purchase it.

***

    When Cordelia returned, she was shocked and dismayed by the sight that
greeted her. The inside of her room was a tunnel of devastation, from
the overturned table, to the shattered lamp, to the broken chair. She
paused, looking at the scene; something about it struck her as even
worse than usual, but she couldn't place it. Her eyes darted back and
forth in terror as she realized what it was. Dropping the bags of food
on the bed, her eyes continued to fixate on the broken chair; the only
chair in the room, with torn rope and broken links of chain scattered
around it.
    Spike was free.
    Close to utter panic now, she convinced herself that, since it was
daylight out, Spike still had to be in here someplace. The thought did
little to comfort her. She began to make her way across the darkened
room, stopping only a moment to open the curtains and let the sunshine
in. She started to call for Xander, softly at first, then scaling up to
a full-scale screech of terror as she entered the other room.
    "Here," called Xander's voice from the opposite bathroom. "I'm in
here." Cordelia made her way into the bathroom, expecting the worst,
instead finding Xander sitting nonchalantly on the edge of the bathtub.
He had an ugly bruise on the side of his face, but was otherwise
unharmed. What garnered her full attention, however, was Spike: the
vampire, probably one of the most dangerous and evil they had ever
faced, lay unmoving in the tub, trussed up like Hannibal Lector, every
appendage tied together and his face taped closed with duct tape. She
opened her mouth in surprise, then closed it again in surprise, unable
to think of anything to say.
    He just looked back at her with an innocent expression on his boyish
face. "What?" Realizing that she would hardly accept the "Who, me?"
route, he tried again. "Well, he managed to escape from his bonds, but
utilizing my knowledge of martial arts and military tactics... What
now?" he asked, seeing the look of frank incredulity on his girlfriend's
face. Having tried innocence and false bravado, he finally decided to go
for the truth. Downcasting his eyes, he said, "All right, all right...
Boy, you sure know how to break a guy's ego--and without saying a word
either..." He sighed. "I don't know why, but he let me win. While you
were gone, I started questioning him again, mainly about Drusilla. I
don't like the idea that we don't know where she is; one super-powerful
vamp in town is bad enough, and by capturing him, we might have
attracted her. After a little bit of that line sort of thing, he freaked
out, vamped out, and broke out.
    "We fought--I still had that pool cue--and I think that I was doing
pretty good right up until he faked me out and got a shot in." He rubbed
the black and blue mark on his left cheek, a spot that was already
fading to a mustard yellow. "I went down, hard, and I guess I blacked
out for a minute. When I came to, Spike was just standing over me, not
even really looking at me. He had changed back into his human shape and
was just... standing there... with his fists clenched. He was shaking,
and finally he just collapsed on his own. I never even touched him. When
he fell, I tied him back up and put him in the tub." He looked over at
his prisoner. "Maybe I overdid it a little. But anyway, I had just
finished mummifying him when you came in; that's why I didn't answer
right away--Spike's a lot heavier than he looks."
    Cordelia had been silent for the length of Xander's explanation, and
now he saw on her face a look he found alien to her features: one of
solemnity. As he watched her internally debate whatever she was thinking
about, he realized that her face was much more suited to gaiety and
lightness than to sorrow or serious matters. While it did not make her
ugly--he didn't think that anything could make her truly ugly--it did
detract from her charisma, and he realized why she was so rarely
serious; it wasn't because she couldn't be severe or somber, it was that
she had decided not to be out of vanity. He almost smiled at the idea,
but Cordelia's words cut him off.
    "We should stake him. Now. Before he wakes up," she proclaimed in slow,
even tones. Xander looked at her in shock. While he had staked vampires
before, and he had even longed to stake Spike at one time, he had never
done so in cold blood. Killing a vampire who was trying to kill you was
one thing, but to kill a helpless opponent? That was murder, regardless
of the species. As he was trying to decide how to put these sentiments
into words that wouldn't ring hollow, he saw Cordelia leave the room,
than enter again carrying the sharpened pool cue. She stalked slowly
towards the prone demon, raising the makeshift stake slowly, the killing
intent written across her grave face.
    "No!" yelled Xander, leaping into her path and snatching the cue from
her hands. She struggled with him for a moment, finally relinquishing
her hold on the cue to beat her tiny fists (he had never realized her
hands were so small before) against his chest, tears of anger breaking
out despite her best efforts to control them. She pounded on him for a
moment, until he cast the pool cue aside and embraced her. She ceased
her attack and simply laid her hands against his shoulders, her face
pressing into his chest, her tears soaking his shirt, and they stayed
like that for a long time. At last, however, their hold on one another
broke, and they made their way into the next room to talk. When at last
words came, it was Xander who spoke.
    "We can't kill him," he said, the look in his eyes making it obvious
that he didn't like the idea at all.
    "Why not?!" she exclaimed, forgetting her need for quiet for a few
moments. Xander glared at her, and she repeated her question in a lower
tone of voice. "After all, he's tried to do it to all of us enough
times. Do you remember the time I got stuck in a closet with Willow for
twelve hours?" He did indeed remember, though he thought it prudent not
to say anything. "Vampire raids, assassination attempts, helping Angel
every step of the way..."
    "I don't think he was," Xander said quietly. "The only person Spike
hates more than Buffy is Angelus. And remember, until recently Spike was
confined to a wheelchair. I think he just finally got fed up with
Angelus controlling the place--and Drusilla--and went to Buffy for
help." Noticing the incredulous look on Cordelia's face, he went on. "He
told us about that 'deal' long before we even knew about it; and if he
and Buffy weren't working together--or at least, hadn't called some sort
of truce or cease-fire while Angelus was a threat--then how did Spike
get away alive? Or, as alive as he is, anyway?"
    "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!" Cordelia exclaimed. "All I
do know is, Spike's evil--way eviller than I ever was. He kills people,
he kills people for food! God only knows how many people he's killed so
far, and if we let him go, how many more will he kill?"
    "Rats," Xander said with a mirthless chuckle. "Ever since Drusilla left
him, he's been feeding on rats." He looked up at Cordy. "Before he
clocked me, I managed to get some things out of him. Not anything he
told me directly, but things I put together from his denials and his
vague evasions. Apparently, he helped Buffy out by distracting Angelus
at a crucial moment, then knocked out his own girlfriend. He pulled away
all the guards from Giles so I could get in and save our friendly
neighborhood Watcher. Then, while Buffy and Angelus dueled for the fate
of the world, he put Drusilla in his car and drove away; I think he
intended for them to go back to Europe, but something happened between
Sunnydale and Las Vegas. Drusilla was still in love with Angelus,
insanely so, and she figured that instead of helping her, Spike had
betrayed her. She dumped him and ran off to God-knows-where, and for the
last two weeks, Spike's been eating an alley rat every couple of days as
a chaser for his booze. What do you think now?"
    Cordelia's face was a mask of pity and horror. She knew what it was
like to love someone who didn't love you back, or to pretend to love
someone just to get something they had. She had been on both sides of
betrayal, and she now found it unpalatable.
    "It's kind of romantic, in a evil, sicko, Manson-family, hell-beast
sort of way," she said. "But I stand by my original argument: he's evil,
and he should be destroyed." Xander looked at her for a few moments
before he made his final decision.
    "Let's leave." Cordelia looked at him in disbelief. "It's not our place
to kill him, especially not as helpless as he is now. When he escaped,
he could have killed me, but he didn't. For that at least, I think he
deserves a chance. We'll pay our bill and leave, and just leave him in
the room." She turned away from him and gathered her things together. As
he watched her drift a little further away from him, he muttered, "I'm
sorry," so low that he barely heard it himself.
    They left the motel a few minutes later, still in silence, with the
inert body of their mortal enemy laying in the bathtub.

***

    "Hey, mister, are you all right," came the voice.
    He shook himself awake; it was well after nightfall. He checked his
body and found it unbound. Looking at the source of the voice, he found
an attractive young woman in her twenties, apparently a maid. How nice
of her to untie him! She bent down to look closer at his face, exposing
her ivory neck. He fixated on that throat, saliva beginning to drip in
his mouth. She seemed oblivious as he leaned closer, his breath almost
brushing her skin.
    Then, he stopped.
    Not knowing why, Spike stood up, pushed the protesting young woman
aside, and ran from the room. Once outside, the hot night air only
exacerbated his thirst, and he quickly looked for an alley where he
could find a rat. Such places were common in this city, and he found a
rat not long after. Chasing the slippery little fellow proved to be an
exhausting task, but one which he enjoyed; if he couldn't attack
humans--and he still didn't know why, but he couldn't--then the hunt was
just as good, because it took his mind off his lost princess, his angel
of the night.
    Slipping in a pile of wet garbage, he stumbled forward and would have
crashed headlong into the wall, save that he was caught by the shoulders
and hoisted back up. He began to curse the stranger, but stopped before
he truly started; something about the man's eyes forbade anger. The
stranger smiled broadly and began to speak.
    "I've got a proposal for you, Spike old boy. It's the same one I made
to a friend of yours not too long ago, and I think you'll like it...
though it might take a little longer to convince you than it did him."
    "I don't have any friends," said Spike bitterly. The little man in
front of him roared laughter.
    "You do now," he said cheerily, extending one hand. Spike, not knowing
what else to do, shook it. "We'll be hanging around together a lot, you
and me..." he said as he led the confused Spike further into the alley.
    "By the way, since we're going to be friends, you should know my name.
They call me... The Whistler..."

***

Excerpt from the audio journal of Alexander LaVelle Harris:

    "Conscience is a funny thing. It can drive us to the heights of light
or into the mouth of deepest darkness. It can inspire deeds worthy of
saints or crimes as heinous as any devil. In the end, conscience is what
truly defines us as human, because no other animal in the world has an
internal concept of good and evil. But is that concept something that we
develop for ourselves? Or is it a product of outside forces? A
combination of the two? We may not ever know. With the right influence,
maybe even an undead monster like Spike can find integrity and honor.
    "But if a man's conscience can overrule his judgment, who are we to say
that our personal sense of conscience is the right one? I let my
internal sense of right and wrong lead me down a destructive and selfish
path once before, and I refuse to do it again. I cannot judge Spike, no
matter the evil he may have wrought, or may wreak again in the future. I
am not fit to be a judge; sometimes I think I'm barely fit to be human.
    "For a long time, I thought that Buffy's whole 'Chosen One' spiel was
just some old legend made up to justify her abilities. Maybe it is, but
it's also the truth. Whatever she, or those like her, were chosen by, it
realized that normal people don't have the capacity to deal with horrors
on a regular basis. We begin to rationalize, to judge things by our own
standards--because those are the only standards we know.
    "This journey began as a way to purge my conscience, but now I know
it's something more. I now realize that we have been guided by some
outside force, possibly the same force that has always guided Buffy as
the Slayer, possibly another, but definitely by *something else*. This
trip is no longer just about salving my feelings of guilt at betraying
my friend--though that is still a part of it--but it is now about
conscience and about perspective. The power of the Slayer is not just
physical; it is the power to be the conscience of the world, the power
to keep a bigger perspective without losing the human one. Buffy is a
powerful fighter, but her biggest strength is that she can make the
tough decisions; not all the time--the early stages of the Angel crisis
proved that--but usually. She can make hard choices and live with them.
    "But now, even she has lost perspective. And it's because of me. This
search is not about me anymore; it's about saving Buffy from me, and
from herself. It's about restoring her point of view, so that she can
continue to do what she does best: make the hard choices. I've begun to
think that maybe Buffy would be happier if we just let her stay away, if
we let her live out the rest of her life in anonymity and peace. But we
can't do that; she has a duty, and whatever force is compelling me to
find her continues to drive that point home relentlessly.
    "Or maybe it's just my conscience."
    "End journal entry for June 1, 1998."


END CHAPTER SEVEN


Cutter Kinseeker
- -Chieftain of the Wolfriders
- -Holder of New Moon, artifact sword
- -Slayer of the dreaded beast Madcoil
- -Keeper of Xander's firm belief that he could take Angelus with the help
of a bunch of orderlies, cops, doctors, and nurses (KBD)
- -Keeper of Xander's derisive sneer at Angelus (KBD)
- -Keeper of Xander's jaunty stake-whittling tune ("School Hard")
- -Keeper of Willow's longing gaze at Xander while he talks about the
unattainable ("Some Assembly Required")
- -Keeper of Giles' masochistic need to spar with Buffy
- -Keeper of Cordelia's divine request for aspirin ("School Hard")
- -Keeper of Buffy's need for a warning label (KBD)

"AYOOOOOOOOAAAAAAHHH!!!!"
          --Cutter Kinseeker

"From famine to feast and back to famine again."
          --Skywise

Visit the Holt of Cutter Kinseeker
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Chamber/2234/


______________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com

------------------------------

Date: Tue, 24 Nov 1998 12:49:46 -0500 (EST)
From: sah <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: ADMIN:  List rules

Welcome!  This list is for fiction related to "Buffy The Vampire
Slayer," both the TV series and the movie.  To ensure that we all get
to enjoy as much fiction as possible, please adhere to the following
guidelines, and please save them for future reference.

1. Fiction should have Buffy characters in it and clearly be related
to Buffy.  Crossovers are great, and expected, but general
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2. Discussion of posted fiction is permitted onlist.  Please put
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 &
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[e-mail]

------------------------------

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