( AN: Just a little something that I was thinking about during my English class. I have always loved stories that delve into the inner workings of Xander Harris. Oh and Reviews will get you candy! That is if you go out and buy yourself some after reviewing my story. Also this is my very first story published or unpublished so I am a huge newbie when it comes to writing and how everything of this site works. so please forgive any mistakes I make. Or don't forgive me and be mean.)

Disclaimer: I do not own Xander. If I did I would keep him all for myself! Sadly he belongs to another...

The last 24 hours had been rather wild. I fought a zombie gang alone, saved Faith, slept with Faith, got thrown out of Faith's motel room wearing only my boxers, had an old fashion Mexican standoff with Jack O'toole, and walked away to tell the tale. Not that this tale will ever be told. In fact it won't be told to anyone ever. The events that took place last night had become personal and private. It wasn't about saving my friends or saving the world. I mean I'm glad that I could help protect them even if they will never know it. No what happened last night was something profound, at least to me it was. It was the first time in my life in which I had accomplished something great, something amazing, and I had done it all on my own. The events of last night helped create a new image of myself. Not an image that my friends saw me as, or what the rest of Sunnydale saw me as. It is the image of how I now see myself.

Ever since I can remember, I have always defined myself but the company I kept. When I was younger, I was part of the inseparable trio. Jesse, Willow and I were that trio. Rarely would someone see us with out the others. In the group my role was simple I was to protect Willow from bullies and the Cordets, and with Jesse my job was to lighten the mood after he got rejected by Cordelia. When Jesse died, and the inseparable trio became the Scooby gang my role was no longer needed. Willow didn't need me to protect her anymore she had Buffy and now Oz to do that. So I made jokes and practically made an idiot of myself on a daily bases. At first I'm sure Willow questioned my new behavior, but most likely she chalked it up me trying to cope with Jesse's death. In time after acting the way I did for so long, I'm sure she forgot the way I was before. The change wasn't something profound. I was always the King of the one-liners, but I started cracking them with more frequency and they had often times been self-eprecating. I didn't always enjoy making a fool of myself but I wanted so bad to contribute something to the group, something to set me apart, something that made me needed or at least wanted. Apparently I did too good of a job at acting dumb, and cracking jokes as they all came see me as a useless idiot, someone who is just there, getting in the way. To the point where Buffy and the others wanted me to start being fray adjacent. When that happened I desperately tried to find something else I could do that would make me important to the group then besides getting the doughnuts.

I had thought that with a car I could become the wheelman of the group. Hell, they could even call me 'Wheelman Xan' if they were so inclined to. It was a pathetic attempt to find something to define myself in the Scooby's and Cordelia easily caught on to, and had no problems to use it as a way to tear me down. Not that I can really blame her after what I did. Still it was just another blow to my self-worth, and my self-worth didn't look like I could make it many more rounds with Cornelia's poisoned tongue, or Buffy and Willow's speeches about how I'm just an ordinary guy who shouldn't have to be fighting. At that point I really started to believe it. The night's events however, turned my beliefs away from that thought. Ordinary guy fights off zombies, saves a slayer, and then manages to stop a bomb from opening the Hellmouth. Does an ordinary guy look into the face of a psychotic zombie bent on ending the world, and not flinch?

Speaking of those seemingly endless minutes down in the boiler room with Jack completed that change in belief that I was talking about. The entire night I was running around doing all those things, without anyone. For the first time in my life I, Xander Harris had stood up on my own feet and taken my first steps in a world where I didn't need to have people to hold me up. I realized that the people that I was with didn't define me. I wasn't defined by just helping Buffy, by being the Robin to her Batman. I was defined by events of this night. So when I looked into Jack O'toole's eyes I was ready to give up everything to win, even if it meant me losing my life to do so. Most people never get to have such defining moments. If they do, I highly doubt they're saving the world at the time. Figures I would need something as large as that to knock some sense into my head.

I had told Jack, that I liked the quiet. I knew from the look in his eyes that he didn't fully comprehend what I was saying. Probably thought I was hearing voices. When I said quiet I meant the feeling of resolution, when a person decides on a course of action, no matter the cost. When you stop with the worrying and what ifs and only deal with what must be done. It was the first time in my life that that had happened. I guess it doesn't matter if Jack understood what I was saying, because in the end I won, and I survived.

Now sitting here, with the gang I could easily tell them everything thing that happened last night, but I don't. Doesn't matter. Only two things would happen. Faith would kill me for mentioning that we had sex together, and the others wouldn't believe the story anyway. If they did believe it then they would use it as ammunition against me staying in the slaying. So I just offer to get doughnuts before heading off. If they really want me gone, then I'll leave. I love being their friends, and I cherish being apart of their lives, but I now know that I can make it without them.

Getting up, after offering to get snacks I bump into Cordelia. She offers a few scathing remarks, filled with the same venom as usual. Now though, now I'm immune because I don't care what she thinks, don't care in the least bit what anyone thinks about me. She called me the Zeppo once, and I have got to say. If I am a Zeppo and I could do what I did last night then, being a Zeppo is okay with me. Actually I wouldn't have it any other way. I just couldn't help but smile at her.