Warning, this story has Gender-Bending. If that hurts your feelers, please know that bitching to me about it will get you severely mocked, because you were warned right now.

Obviously I do not own BtVS, if I owned it rather than dear old Joss Whedon this wouldn't be a fanfic. It'd be alternate canon or something.

I also don't own D&D either, WotC beat me to it but I'll tell you what, if I could have back all the money I ever spent on gaming crap from those people I am pretty damn sure I could retire tomorrow. (Slight exaggeration, but it sure feels that way.)

It has been explained to me that the amount of Cordelia in the story is insufficient to justify her inclusion in the summary. Even though everything in the summary is completely accurate. Anyway, be warned. While your favorite queen bee has a place in the following, it is not as a central figure.

And lastly, this is a re-post from the story I am working on over on 'Twisting the Hellmouth' under the name "Datatroll." If you like what you see here, there is a bunch more over there waiting for you and I am still going strong on it. It finally occurred to me after something like the fortieth person on TtH asked me for directions to my stories here that there might be those that would like to find me over there. So if you are interested, it awaits your perusal.

Xandificer.

Chapter 1

Really, Janus?!

The morning after Halloween, on the Hellmouth.

Xander awoke with pain all over being apparently the order of the day. Waking up in a ditch, he decides, is by far and away the most unpleasant way to do so that doesn't involve prison and a gent named Bubba. Making it even worse, this costume may have been the worst thing to be knocked unconscious in that he could ever even conceive of. It might not have been so bad if he'd left it alone after he lost the bet with Cordy. A witch outfit would have been embarrassing, but not too uncomfortable to sleep in he supposes. But he tried to "win" the bet after he'd already lost and added a few bits of armor and some steam-punky looking props that were designed to hide the fact that he was dressed as a girl. He even remembers smirking at her when she asked what the hell he was doing and he claimed to be an "Artificer." He figured he was pretty safe, what the heck would Cordelia Chase know about a character class from a role playing game?

It probably would have worked, too. But then that unholy bitch pulled the massive padded bra out from behind her back. So he spent the first part of the night desperately trying and failing to not be seen by anybody ever and getting mocked by the grade school kids that Snyder, the high school principal with an entire Napoleonic war behind his short mans syndrome, was making him lead around. The second half he spent being an Artificer, apparently. That part he doesn't remember nearly as clearly, aside from being in an unholy rage constantly for being defenseless without her toys.

Rolling haphazardly to his feet in the uneven ground of the ditch, he then immediately falls over again and lands on his face.

Which hurts. Actually, it hurts way more than it should, by all rights. His face is getting pricked by a very aggressive thistle, but the real problem is his chest. He must have landed on a rock or something. Plus his balance is completely screwball. Is he shorter?

Panic begins to set in. He must have been out all night, because in the gray light of very early morning he rolls over and touches his chest.

He finds a lot more chest than should be there. Like, a lot more. Porn star levels of more.

"Oh my god what the hell..." He stops talking when he realizes he doesn't recognize the voice. It's a girl's voice. The kind of voice one would expect to hear from a seventeen year old that lied about her age to get a gig as a phone sex operator. Obviously a female, quite breathy, perhaps just a little lower than average. The kind of voice that does the vocals in the Japanese skin flick animations that he totally has never seen and why would you ever think that a red blooded American... Girl. Would watch tentacle porn?

Oh god. Can she go home? Should she go home? Her parents won't believe this. Hell, they won't believe her when she says she needs twenty bucks for a school trip without calling the school, like they would ever believe this. She decides she has to go home, at least briefly. She needs clothes. Not that they'll fit her. She feels like she is about six inches shorter. Right around Buffy's height now.

Her second attempt at getting out of the ditch is much more successful and after removing the worthless high heels that Cordy so graciously offered with the costume she starts making headway home. She decides two things between the ditch and the house. The first being that she will never, ever, under any circumstances ever make another bet with Cordelia. The second is that high heeled shoes and underwire bras are undoubtedly spawned by the Hellmouth and need to be slain.

Getting in and out of the house is easier than she anticipated, mostly because the parental units are still sleeping off the case of cheap beer that was consumed last night.

Xander will admit to not being and expert, but she is reasonably certain that putting the word "light" before the word "beer" doesn't make drinking it turn you into a Jedi any more than the dark stuff would make you a Sith. So why anybody would drink the swill is completely beyond her.

A shower. Tears for what is lost. Giles has gotta fix this, please for the love of god.

Then the lofty goal of managing to get the bra back on because Oh boy. Holy crap. How in the fuck do these things work? What did Cordy have him do? Oh yeah. Put it on backward, flip it around, arms through the holes. There has got to be a better way to construct these things that doesn't involve a wire digging into your flesh all the damn time. She almost doesn't bother and then she sees herself in the mirror on the back of the door. Really looks for the first time.

Her hair is still dark, almost black. But now it goes down to the middle of her back. Shoulders are small, tits are ridiculous. Of course, whether or not they truly qualify as ridiculous she isn't even sure, because they aren't supposed to be there in the first place. To her, anything would have been too big. Her waist is slender, and toned, but no lady six-pack or anything. Hips are a tad spread. Not quite the hourglass that is seen in those cartoons that she never watched and you can't prove that she did but still quite nice. Nice legs. Maybe not a runners legs, but definitely somebody that is used to walking between five and fifteen miles by the end of every day.

Her hands and feet are tiny compared to what she is used to. She still feels strong, she doesn't think she has actually gotten any weaker, but she has no leverage or reach anymore. Keeps having to take an extra half step to make up for not being as close as she thinks she is to doors and stuff. It is unbelievably annoying. At least a five on the scale where the lack of a penis is a seventy-fucking-three.

She finishes getting dressed in a pair of sandals that she has to wear three pairs of socks with and punch new holes in the straps to cinch on, a pair of shorts that she ties off that now go down well past her knees, and a t-shirt that drapes over most of her and gives her a masturbation inspiring profile for the entire male half of the student body. Oh god. Make it stop please, just make it stop. Making it a point to load up her duffel and school bag with everything she actually cares about including the road trip fund which she is cringing at, because unless Giles can fix this like instantly, the chances are good that the road trip fund is going to be going the way of the dodo to pay for some portion of the current crisis. Then she makes her escape, wondering when if ever she will be able to go home.

When Giles walks into the library he is fairly shocked to see a student already in the room. Shocked because for one, the door was locked until he just opened it whoever this is they were sitting in the dark with their head against the table until he turned on the lights. Probably asleep. For two, well, it is an American child. In a library. Without being told to go there. The odds against are astonishingly high that this is an innocent circumstance.

However, the young woman who is currently turning towards him is sitting directly over the mouth to Hell, so rather than make assumptions Giles stands well back and voices his annoyance.

"How did you get in here, child? The door was locked for a reason."

Xander offers the closest approximation to a lopsided grin that she can manage through the tears. "Sorry G-man. There's an unlocked window in the back. I didn't figure that you would mind. You did say to come here for emergencies and..." She takes a moment to heft her breasts in her hands and jiggles them like she is trying to score free beer. "I figured that this might qualify. Maybe not 'end of the world' important, but it might be 'end of the Xander' important."

Giles shakes his head in astonishment and starts walking around Xander, who has stood up to be peered at. "Dear boy, what has happened to you? Is this connected with that ridiculous idiocy that was cast last night? That ill conceived Halloween prank that turned everyone into their costumes?"

Xander nods, almost getting a smile on his face. If the G-man knows what happened, he must have done something to stop it. "Yeah. Lost a bet with Cordy and had to go as a witch. She even supplied the stuffed bra to make my misery that extra bit epic. So, how do we fix this?"

Giles starts cleaning his glasses while staring down his nose at them. Knowing as she does the many moods of the Giles, Xander begins to panic a little. Glasses cleaning is never a good sign, and combined with the looking down it tends to end in a tragedy for somebody.

"Please, tell me that you can fix this, Giles. I'll take Bipity bopity and boo if you can fix this. Please."

Looking up at the stalwart young... Person. That has been backing his slayer through thick and thin, he cannot find it in his heart to lie. "Xander, the spell has already been broken. Chaos magic. Quite strong chaos magic at that. Focused through the god Janus specifically for this end."

Having turned to face Giles who is making his way towards the office, Xander doesn't see Buffy and Willow step into the library.

"Specifically for what end? For this?" Xander pokes her chest. "The freaking gods wanted to wreck my life by stripping my dick off and making me a midget with tits? What the hell kinda pervert gods are we dealing with here Giles?"

Then she hears something from behind her that makes her lower her head and turn around.

Willow looks like she is still hoping this is all a misunderstanding. "Xander? Oh my gosh Xander, is that really you?"

Looking out from behind hair that has fallen forward, he offers a sick smile and a half apology. "Umm... Maybe?"

Buffy frowns. "What do you mean maybe?"

Xander turns away slightly and cuts off the view of her face entirely. Then she steps forward and stands up straight so that all can see that she is almost exactly the same height as Buffy. "That depends on whether or not I am going to get beaten for that midget with tits crack. If I am, then I don't know any Xander and I am just a lost and scared mostly innocent victim of the Hellmouth. If I am not, and I can't even believe I am saying this right now, but if I am not I could really use a hug so bad right now you don't even know." With that, she slumps back down into her chair and after quickly looking at each other, Buffy and Willow take the chairs on either side of her and offer their support, such as it is, with hugs.

After a few minutes, Giles comes back out carrying a book with as well as a camping style spice rack. At his motioning hands, the girls step away and he takes a pinch of four different herbs, spreading them on his shoulders. Then he intones four different spells from the book.

Nothing happens.

Giles sets the book down while cleaning his glasses. Buffy starts to pale as well as Willow. Xander can't get any more pale.

"There is currently no magic on you to be dispelled. Whatever happened, whatever flaw is in the mix that forced you to stay in this form, it isn't something we can fix because while all three of you are, I am sure, doused in chaos magic, there is currently no active spell on you to get rid of."

Giles looks up from cleaning his glasses.

"I am sorry, but there is nothing I can do. I don't have the skill to change you back, I suspect that few on the planet would and most of those you would be unwise to trust in. What I can't figure out is why only you didn't change back. It makes little sense, as I find it very difficult to believe that the one who cast that spell harbors any grudge against you specifically."

As if it was waiting for the right moment to soar into the room, a small creature that is familiar only to Xander streaks in through the window that he had mistakenly left open. With the body of a ferret and the wings of a crow, two different taxidermy projects that her uncle Rory the taxidermist had given to her long ago and had since been bashed about in various ways as her father searched her room for beer money. Xander had carefully pulled the pieces apart and stitched the wings of one onto the other before the trick or treating last night, thinking that it would make for a very cool "Expeditious Messenger" Homunculus while he was out. She had thought it lost in the night, but it must have been doing whatever it was last tasked with. As soon as it touches her by landing on her shoulder, it rubs it's tiny face against her head with familiarity and then Xander hears in his mind.

'The dumb white haired vampire that you wished me to follow has nested in a warehouse near the docks. I do not believe that he can still move about, the sun is too high.'

Giles, Buffy, and Willow are staring at him gobsmacked as the mismatched little creature scampers about, exploring everything now that it has relayed it's message. Giles is the first to collect his thoughts and say anything.

"Xander, what is that thing? Buffy, do you sense it?"

Buffy shakes her head. "Nope. He's a cute little guy though. But right here on the Hellmouth it could be a whole demon conga line and I would only have a fifty-fifty shot of noticing anything wiggy."

Xander has been staring at her little pet, as the knowledge that it is here, and it works like it is supposed to opens up possibilities. "That is an Artificer's homunculus Giles, straight from the D&D role playing game. That particular one flies around to deliver messages and spy on things for me. I never would have believed it would actually work. But since it does..." She looks at Willow, the only other here that has ever played. She gives Xander a grin.

"Wicked cool, Xander. Wicked cool."

Authors Note:

I thought I might try my hand at a different take on a YAHF "Builder" style story. No, I am not tagging this to the appropriate challenge because I am not abiding by the guidelines in it. While I read and enjoy them, the power levels in them are so overbearingly absurd that I think the reason that most of them don't get finished is that it becomes difficult to imagine what could possibly present a reasonable challenge. Maybe the love child of Thanos and fem-Darkseid shows up wearing Daddy's mitten, the One Ring on one hand and a Black Lantern ring on the other while wielding the Deathly Hallows and Excalibur? I mean seriously, as described in the notes the challenge leads to they are, in a word, ridiculous.

Instead, Xander is an Artificer, straight out of D&D 3.5 edition. In a modern world where metals of a quality that would have been coveted by kings can be scrounged off the leaf spring of a junked truck, and most gemstones can be artificially created for a fraction of the cost, an artificer could pretty easily do his job for a tiny percentage of the comparative wealth by population that would have been required in the middle ages. Not to say that it won't still constantly be a penny pinching endeavor, but it won't be nearly as bad as it would be in the original medium.

For any that don't know, Artificers as they work in D&D 3.5 can be insanely powerful, given TIME and MONEY. Lots and lots of both. They don't have the ability to cast spells directly on the bad guys, they have to be happy with creating and enchanting items to do it for them, some temporary and some permanent. The big kicker is that there is very little casting that they can do that doesn't take at least one minute to accomplish. So while they are great for siege, both attacking and defending, outstanding for ambushes and any kind of pitched battle in which they had time to prepare, they are very easy to put down if they are themselves ambushed. A that point they are stuck with whatever stats god gave them, a selection of magical toys that may or may not be useful, depending on the circumstances, average bonus to hit per level, and generally a whole bunch of skills and abilities that don't do a whole lot because they are generally all taken in such a way that they can benefit the party by making shiny things, and then making them shinier. It IS possible to make a variant that can be respectable in combat (and Xander will be doing some of that) but he won't be replacing the Slayer in combat, and unless he has had time to prep he won't be replacing "Power Willow over 9000" that she ends up being later on.

As for the builder minions, the Artificer can create Homunculus. There are specific types that can be made, and I will be sticking with them, though their outward appearance my change notably their function and abilities will not. While there are no limits to the amounts of homunculus that can be made, each one is expensive, requires maintenance as well as upgrading as time goes on which is also costly, and finally if one dies it hurts the creator when it does so. If more than a few die in a short period of time, it can easily be lethal for the Artificer. In short, unlike Builder minions, they are not exactly expendable. If they die, you don't necessarily hold a funeral for them but it isn't a happy fun time when it happens. Theoretically he could also build golems, but frankly those things are crazy huge, slow, and expensive. They are not really able to be hidden. Most of the ones that would be worth building (and not outright evil to build or dangerous to build because they have a bad habit of turning on their owners) would be more or less the same degree of ridiculous as trying to fight with a Gundam on the Hellmouth and somehow expecting to not get caught. There are a few that might be worth looking into, but he won't be looking into that for a long time, if ever.