Chapter 2: Choices

This wasn't the first time the Doctor had been stuck somewhere, certainly not the first time he'd been stuck on Earth. But this was the first time he had been stuck where he had absolutely no idea how he was going to get back. The only advanced technology he had access to was his sonic screwdriver, and while this universe's 1997 Earth was right on target with his own, that wasn't saying a lot when one was trying to cross universes.

Of course in this universe, he would have one resource not available in his own; magic, and that made him both excited and uneasy. He was doing as much research as he could, and he was being helped a great deal by both Rupert and his lady friend, Jenny Calendar. They had helped him to research exactly what Ethan Rayne had done to make the chaos of Halloween possible, and once they were certain of his steps they would begin changing them, trying to come up with a way to send him home.

It should be possible, even fairly easy, to send him into that universe. Janus was not only, or even primarily, a god of chaos. In fact, he was more about transitions; beginnings and doorways. He was even loosely associated with time, because he could look both forward and backward. But the trick would be to aim the effect so as to bring him as closely as possible to the moment and place he had left without running into himself, showing up too early, or putting him inside a wall, or the time rotor, or inside a star or a black hole.

Such calculations were much easier with the computers on the TARDIS, but here they were using a lot of what looked, and even felt, like ritual to generate these effects, and the components were going to be a lot more difficult to tune than the precise technical instruments he was used to using. Magic is still science, of course, but it's based on words and organic energies rather than on numbers and inorganic energies. He was trying to learn a new set of scientific languages and laws, totally foreign to that which he had spent his lifetimes working with, the only exception, of course, being the power of a name.

But many of the items he was going to need for this magical machine were going to cost a pretty penny, and that meant the Doctor was going to have to get a job. Oh, he could do a lot with the psychic paper, but the kinds of people who were likely to own these kinds of components were a lot more likely to have psychic ability than the general population, limiting the usefulness of the paper in purchasing such items.

He hadn't had to hold down a job in several centuries, not since he worked for UNIT back in his third life. This could be either very interesting or horribly dull. Somehow, in this town, he suspected it would be both.

Buffy, Xander, Willow and Cordelia all had a surprise waiting for them when they got to their World History class. Instead of Mrs. Banks very pregnant self in front of their class was a familiar man in a brown suit with blue pinstripes, square framed spectacles sitting across his nose and a cat-got-the-cream grin across his mouth. All four of them stared at him before taking their seats. Buffy just shrugged, as did Willow, both figuring they'd get the scoop later from Giles. Cordelia rolled her eyes and took her seat.

But Xander came up to the desk. "I need to talk to you after class, if that's okay?"

The Doctor looked concerned. "Are you all right?"

He shrugged and looked down. "Just dealing with a few leftovers, if you catch my drift."

The alien's eyebrows flew into his hairline, but he nodded. "All right, then. We'll talk. Next hour is lunch anyway, yes?" At Xander's nod, he said, "Okay. Go on to your seat."

The last bell rang and all the students made their way to their seats. The Doctor gave them a minute to calm down, then shut the door. "Hello, everyone. My name is Doctor John Smith. Mrs. Banks has taken her expected leave of absence just a little early, so I'll be handling her class for the rest of the school year. As I understand it, you lot have just been reading up on the French Revolution. Impressions?"

One boy said, "Well, it seems like Louis XVI was just sort of a weak king."

The Doctor nodded. "I think that's fair. Really, Versailles could have been burning down around his ears and he'd hardly have noticed it. Someone else?"

Cordelia started in from a perspective wholly unique to her worldview. "I just don't see why everyone's always picking on Marie Antoinette. I can so relate to her. She worked really hard to look that food, and people just don't appreciate that kind of effort. And I know the peasants were all depressed—"

Xander interrupted, "I think you mean 'oppressed'."

She glared at him. "Whatever. They were cranky. So they're like, 'Let's lose some heads.' Ughh! That's fair. And, and Marie Antoinette cared about them. She was gonna let them have cake!"

"Well," said the Doctor, "I've never actually heard that perspective before. Allow me to clear up a few things. First, the Queen never actually said that. It was more likely an earlier princess of France by about a century. However, the sentiment, which Marie would have likely agreed with, was one of complete disregard for the poor. The word that was translated 'cake' was actually brioche, an enriched and lightly sweetened bread that was far more expensive than an ordinary baguette. It would be like you telling someone, 'I can't afford to eat a hamburger.' Then they sneer at you and say, 'then eat fillet mignon instead.' The plight of the poor was beneath her because she was born to privilege, and she believed that she deserved it."

Cordelia frowned. "Well it's not like the crops dying was her fault."

"No, you're right about that. The crops died because of a short global cooling. But as a student of fashion, can you imagine how much food could have been bought with even one of those elaborate court gowns of hers?"

Cordelia sat back, thinking. Happy to let her work through it in her own mind, the Doctor moved on to other students.

When the class ended, both Cordelia and Xander were waiting for him. Cordelia said, "So she was really just a big snob, huh."

He said, "Well, she was. But look at it from the other side of the coin as well. Did she deserve to die for it?" Seeing the girl's uncertainty, he said, "Nothing in life is just black and white. Life is a high-definition tapestry of history and possibilities, of motivations and choices. Take the time to look at history and remember that it is made up of real people, and I think it'll surprise you."

Cordelia nodded, uncharacteristically deep in thought, and walked away. Xander watched her go, then said quietly, "You really think she's gonna change, Doc?"

He shrugged. "That's up to her. I only offer perspective. And please don't call me that." It was bad enough when Jack used to do it.

"Sorry." Xander looked nervous.

"What is it you wanted to talk to me about? Leftovers?"

"Scattered images. Feelings. Ten other faces than the one you're wearing, and snapshots of a war that makes the French Revolution look like a tea party." He scuffed a shoe on the floor. "It's not nearly everything, 'cause there's no way that would have fit in my head. I think I understand science class better, though, and history."

The Doctor let out a low whistle."That's a lot to deal with for someone your age." He paused, looking intently at Xander's face. "And that's not all of it, am I right?"

Xander shrugged. "How do you know if something is a fixed point?"

The Doctor sighed. "I thought you might have looked. Whose timeline was it?" Being a fan, Xander had known that he could see Time, and so he had taken advantage of that brief moment of time when he could see it too. He'd taken a look into the future.

"Buffy."

"Understandable. She's one of your best friends. You're even a little bit in love with her. And she puts her life on the line every day for the sake of the human race. To be honest, if you weren't concerned, I'd worry. Did you see an event or just the energy?" If he'd seen something specific, it could have become fixed, but—"

"Just the energy. Thick string of light, chasing back the dark, and then a snip of Parca Morta's shears cuts it off while it's still bright and shining, and the thread is gone, the candle snuffed out before its time." Xander shook his head, trying to clear it. "It's clear, but is it fixed? I don't know how to tell?"

"Well, the good news is, you haven't fixed it by looking. It's why I don't look at my own timeline or that of my companions. History can usually be rewritten, so long as you haven't already read it. That said, as you're aware, some things have to happen, or everything else crumbles, and Reapers can get into the world."

Xander nodded. Shaking with the knowledge that he might have to allow his friend to die. He looked the Doctor in the eye, though, and he asked anyway. "Is it fixed?"

"Xander, why would you want to know that? It's not tomorrow or something, is it?"

"No. It's three and a half years away."

"Why would you ever want to carry that kind of knowledge around? That's—Xander, listen to me. That is the kind of burden a Time Lord has to bear, but there is no reason for you to have to. You're young, and human, and so full of potential yourself. Don't ask me again. I won't answer. You deserve better than that."

Xander wanted to storm off, wanted to throw a fit, to scream, to demand—but he knew that the Doctor was right. Right now, he knew for sure that Buffy had three and a half years left on this Earth, but he didn't know for sure if she would have longer or not. Best to believe it could be changed and fight like hell to make it happen than to sit around and bemoan the fact that it could not. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry I asked."

But the Doctor said, "Don't be. You're thinking, and you're being careful. That's more than could be said for most teenagers." He gave him a brilliant smile. "You're turning into a fine young man, Xander. If I was going to be worn by anyone like an overcoat for Halloween, I'm glad it was you."

The corner of Xander's mouth turned up. "Thanks, Doctor."

His name was Billy Fordham, but Buffy called him Ford. He had been friends with her in Middle School, was in fact her Middle School crush. Xander didn't really like the idea of her with anyone who wasn't him, but better Live Boy than Dead Boy. Still, there was something about him that rubbed him the wrong way, and Xander vowed to himself to be watchful, not interfering, but not sleeping on the job, either.

At the Bronze, while Xander, Willow and Ford were all waiting for Buffy to show, Ford talked a lot about Buffy; nice, safe stories from childhood which might get him in hot water with Buffy when she found out, but not anything really revealing of Ford. In fact, he didn't talk about himself at all. He really focused completely on Buffy, and even though Xander and Willow had no problem using the information they had gained about their friend, it still made him wary of the other teen.

When Buffy arrived and Willow tattled about the 9th grade swim suit competition, Buffy was horrified. "Oh my God, Ford, stop that! The more people you tell, the more people I have to kill."

Ford gave her a rakish smirk. "You can't touch me, Summers. I know all your darkest secrets."

Xander coughed a little and turned back to the pool table to chase the eight ball. "Care to make a small wager on that?"

Willow gave Xander a bug-eyed look.

Buffy just shook her head. "I'm gonna go get a drink. Ford, try not to talk."

After Ford irritatingly sunk the eight, they racked the balls back up, intending to wait for Buffy to come back so they could all play a game together. They noticed that she was talking to Angel at the bar. Xander rolled his eyes. Willow said, "That's Angel."

Seeming concerned, Ford said, "He's not in school, is he? He looks older than her."

Xander took a drink to hide his grin. "You're not wrong."

After a while, Buffy came back to the table, and a confused-looking Angel followed her. She didn't bring back a drink. Ford mentioned it.

"Not thirsty."

"Hey, Angel," said Willow.

Ford also said, "Hi."

Buffy introduced them. "This is Ford. We went to school together in LA."

Angel was quite civil. "Nice to meet you," he said, and they shook hands.

Ford jumped a little. "Whoa. Cold hands."

Xander said again, "You're not wrong." Buffy glared at him. He just shrugged.

Angel tried to move things along, not knowing where all the tension in the room was coming from. "So, you're here visiting Buffy?"

"No, here to stay." Angel froze. "Just moved down."

Willow said, "Hey Angel, do you want to play?" Willow hated confrontation. It was the cause of some of her best babbling rambles.

Buffy sensed it, but she wasn't ready to deal, or to let Angel off the hook. Willow had told Xander that Buffy had seen Angel with some dark-haired girl the previous night, and whether Angel knew it or not, he was being punished for a perceived indiscretion. "Y'know, it's getting really crowded in here tonight. Um, I'm a little hot." She turned to Ford. "You wanna take a walk?"

Buffy practically dragged Ford out of the building. Xander said, "Okay, once more with tension."

Angel was already well on his way to full blown panic. "He just moved here?"

Xander nodded. "And boy, does he move fast."

Angel disappeared, much to Willow's dismay. Xander sighed and sat down on a chair next to the pool table. "You know, I hate to be on Angel's side in any situation, but—"

Willow said, "Really?"

"Yeah." He looked toward the door. "Ford's bad news."

That night Xander couldn't help himself. Willow was not the only computer nerd in the room any more, not with what he had picked up from the Doctor. His internet speed wasn't the greatest, but with a little jiggery-pokery his humble computer was setting new records for what any system of its size should have been capable of, even with the very best connections. He wasn't as good as the Doctor would have been, but for a human, he was very good.

And he intended to find out about Billy Fordham.

It was obvious, quickly, that Ford didn't want to be found out about. All of his records had been expunged, even during time which he had legitimately known Buffy as her schoolmate. He was not registered as a student at Sunnydale High, or any other school. he did still have a Social Security number, and from that, Xander was able to find medical records from City of Hope in LA under a false name.

Why? Xander sat back in his creaky office chair and stared through the dirty splotches on the ceiling. Why would a terminal cancer patient not only run away, but eliminate any trace of their official existence? Why did a terminal cancer patient do anything? Xander tried to imagine it, feeling the certainty of death creeping up on you in the bloom of youth, seeing its swirling black cloak just out of the corner of your eye, as if a vampire were stalking you, one that liked to take its time and play with its food.

Scared. Desperate. Willing to do almost anyth—Xander sat up. The only record that wasn't wiped out was Ford's current address, and that was a little footnote on a lease, but something any half-way competent hacker was going to find. Scared and desperate, and suddenly he shows up in Vamp City with an in with the one person they're all interested in eating.

Did Ford somehow know Buffy was the Slayer? Xander could see someone in Ford's position thinking that being turned was a good alternative. The records detailed a truly horrible prognosis. Not a fun way to go. And Buffy would be one hell of a bargaining chip if he could somehow trap her. That thought made him think about this Sunset Club that he listed as his address, and then he started hacking into the public records department at City Hall. He wanted to know how this place was built.

It was an old bomb shelter, and there had been recent construction permits, including the services of a locksmith. Oh, it was a trap, all right. The only question was what kind?

Xander wasn't surprised to find that the Doctor was spending his time after school with Giles's books. Despite all that manic energy, the alien was a rabid bibliophile, and he was trying to understand how magic worked so he could get home without ripping any holes in the multiverse. Besides, he'd probably have the entire occult library read by the end of the night.

"Hello, Doctor."

The Doctor looked up from his reading of the old Romanian Vampyre, the overhead lights glinting off his specs. "Ah, Xander! You know, I don't think I've ever been quite so fascinated before! It's amazing how different one change can cause a universe to be, given enough time. This business about the Slayer, for instance. Why would humanity pin its hopes on one girl at a time? Why not build an army? Or, and I rather prefer this approach, why not do the job yourself instead of creating a child soldier in the first place?"

Xander wasn't fooled. "Fascinated" here might as well be translated to horrified and angry, but this had started thousands of years ago. They didn't have a TARDIS, so it couldn't be changed now. "Buffy'll be glad you care. Need a bit of a favor." The Doctor raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. "I think Buffy's being led into a trap, and I need to be able to scan the structure. You mind if I borrow the sonic for a few hours?"

He almost said something scathing about stupid apes, but he stopped. There was a lot more to this boy than that. He wasn't planning to abuse the tool, and he understood how to use it properly. He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "All right, I'll trust you. But I have it on very good authority that toasters do not need to be more sonic, nor do you need to get soap operas from Sto."

Xander grinned. Rose had forever been getting on to the Doctor for upgrading Jackie's appliances. Of course, Xander knew what was coming for the Doctor, so his smile didn't last long, and he became more serious. "Not a problem. I just want her to have a heads up."

"Good." He handed the sonic screwdriver to Xander. "Here you go. D'you remember the settings?"

He nodded. "I won't let you down, Doctor. I'll be back here around midnight." Then he turned to leave the library and meet Willow and Angel.

The Doctor frowned at the boy's retreating back. He had seen a flash of some painful emotion when he had mentioned Rose and Jackie. Something was coming, something Xander had previous knowledge of because of the TV programme he had been emulating for Halloween. A shiver of foreboding crawled up his spine. That something dealt with either Rose or Jackie, and he honestly couldn't imagine that Jackie would be the character sympathetic enough to cause him pain.

He really needed to get back home.

Xander, Willow and Angel walked up to the entrance of the old bomb shelter, Xander scanning the structure as they approached.. "That lock is really solid." He looked over at the other two. "I'd say this is definitely a Slayer trap."

Willow said, "I didn't find anything incriminating in his record."

Xander said, "That's because he hacked it."

Angel agreed. "No records is incriminating enough. He doesn't want anything to be found but this address, and that's a trap." He knocked on the door, and the little sliding door at the top opened up, revealing the eyes of the doorman. "We're friends of Ford."

The doorman opened up, not very security minded, and the three of them walked into the Sunset Club. the atmosphere was very movie-vamp chic, obviously decorated by teenagers, specifically teenagers who read way too much Anne Rice and not enough Bram Stoker. They thought vampires were some kind of tragic figures, not demons.

Willow said, "Boy, we blend right in."

Xander smiled at her. "Just walk around like you own the place. You'll be fine."

"Let's look around," said Angel. "You two check out downstairs."

Xander raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing about his taking command. He and Willow explored a little of the slow party atmosphere. "You noticing a theme here?"

"As in 'Vampires! Yay!'?"

"That's the one."

After a few minutes they were approached by a blonde girl in a dark red dress with matching lipstick and jeweled choker. She was literally inviting herself to be bitten. "You guys are newbies. I can tell."

Xander forestalled Willow's natural babble. "Yes we are. We were invited by a friend, sort of. Why don't you tell us all about it?"

"We welcome anyone who is interested in the Lonely Ones."

Angel popped up out of nowhere, and Xander had a random thought about sewing a bell into his jacket. "Vampires."

"Yeah, why do you think they're lonely," asked Xander. "It's really easy for them to 'make' friends." He referred, of course, to the fact that they could turn anyone they wanted. "Of course, they usually just eat them instead."

But the girl argued her point. "So many people have that misconception. But they who walk in the night are not interesting in harming anyone. They are creatures above us. Exalted!"

Angel sneered at her. "You're a fool."

The girl huffed off, and Xander shook his head in frustration. "Are you really competing for the 'Rude and Not Ginger' title?"

"Now nobody's gonna talk to us," whined Willow.

Angel replied, "I've seen enough. I've seen this type before, scared children making up bedtime stories of friendly vampires to comfort themselves in the dark."

Willow, ever the peacemaker, said, "Is that so bad? Sometimes the dark can get pretty dark. Sometimes you need a story."

"These people don't know anything about vampires," Angel grumped. "What they are, how they live, how they dress—"

A dark-haired teen came down the stairs behind Angel. They were dressed identically, save that Angel's jacket was a bit more well-worn. Xander smirked, and Angel had the grace to be just a little embarrassed. The three of them went up the stairs to leave the club, and Xander did one more scan of the doors as they walked out of them. He felt eyes on the back of his neck, but he just figured that Angel's attitude had soured the attitudes in the room.

Once they got clear of the building, Xander looked at the scans, reading the tiny Gallifreyan hieratic characters as easily as if they were English. "That place is dangerous. The walls are three feet of concrete, the door and frame are three-inch steel, and there's a time-lock on the door that can only be opened from the outside. That's all the proof we need. You'll tell Buffy it's a trap." Xander didn't care that he was giving orders to someone two hundred and fifty-odd years older than him. Buffy had to be warned, and Angel was going her way.

Xander returned the Doctor's sonic that night, just like he said, but he didn't leave as the Doctor expected him to. Instead he sat down on one of the library chairs. For a moment, neither of them said anything. For all that Xander's gab had changed with the addition of the Doctor's gob, he still wasn't sure where to begin.

"Cat nun got your tongue?"

Xander blew a laugh through his nose. "Yuck."

"Well-"

"I'm not just gonna sit around while she walks into a trap."

The Doctor looked at the scans Xander had taken. "I wouldn't expect you to."

Xander sighed and sat back in his chair. "She will. That whole thing on the Game Station? Sending Rose away for her own good? I can so see Buffy doing that, with any of us." He looked at the Doctor. "I get why. She wants us to not get hurt, because she loves us." Subtle? Not. "But I think Rose had the right idea. It's better to get out there and do the right thing than to be safe."

The Doctor stared at Xander, his expression unreadable. "She won't thank you for it if you get hurt or die."

"But could I live with myself if I didn't do everything in my power to help her?"

They were silent for a moment, both deep in their thoughts. The alien man asked, "What are you planning?"

"First to make sure she has all the information."

"And then?"

Xander grinned. "I've got an idea!"

If there were strange smells coming from the chemistry lab the next day, no one said anything. They kind of expected it. What no one could explain, though, were the open plastic eggs in the trash that said "Silly Putty™" on the side.

Xander waited with Willow on the stairs after their last class of the day for Buffy. She saw them and almost turned in the other direction, but Willow called out to her and she rallied herself. Willow said, "Did Angle-?"

"He told me everything."

"I'm sorry we kept stuff from you."

Xander said, "Yeah, me too. We didn't want to just accuse the guy of being bad news though, with no proof."

"It's okay." Buffy was still angry, but she got it. She knew that if they'd accused first, she'd have blown them off, especially Xander and Angel, who both had jealousy issues.

Xander said, "I know you're going to confront him, but you should know that his place is a trap designed with you in mind." Then he held out a purple egg for her to take. "This is stabilized Nitro-9. Don't open it until you're ready to use it. Pay attention to where the lock is before you go in, because there's no door knob on the inside. Stick the putty on the door, give it a good whack, then run. You'll only have about a second before it blows."

Buffy smiled slowly at him. "You made plastique in the science lab?"

Xander shrugged. "Closer to dynamite, but yeah." He looked her right in the eyes. "You'll always have us to back you up, Buffy."

Her smile widened and warmed. "Thanks, guys."

Buffy walked off, but now they knew she'd be okay. They could relax, at least a little, knowing she wouldn't be trapped, that she'd have a better chance of surviving the day.

Willow continued to watch Buffy as she walked off, but she asked Xander, "You made dynamite in the chemistry lab? I didn't know they had all the ingredients."

"They didn't. I made Nitro-9 and stabilized it with Silly Putty™. it's a chemical one of the Doctor's former companions came up with. And what about you? You had Angel in your bedroom!"

"Yeah, but he just wants me for my mind."

The two left the hallway laughing.

The Doctor shook his head in sadness. Xander, with what was quickly becoming a habit, had come to the library to talk to him after they had left Ford to his self-imposed fate, and he had told him about the other boy's illness and his bid for immortality at the hands of William the Bloody. It wasn't that the Time Lord was easier to talk to than, say, Willow, but Xander wanted to learn as much from him as possible before he figured out how to get home. "Horrible. We'd all like to think we'd never do something like that, but one never knows how they'll react to a situation until they're living it."

As gently as possible, not wanting to bring up bad memories from the War, Xander said, "You do. You'll do the right thing, even with an impossible choice." Like the choice between your homeworld, your family, and the rest of the universe.

A grimace somewhere between pain and gratefulness curled one side of his mouth. "Thanks for that. And most people have some kind of regret in their past, something they did or had to do that eats away at them later in life."

Xander smiled at that. "Probably. But, and I hope you don't take this the wrong way, brining you here won't be one of them. How's it going, getting back?"

"Well, near as I've been able to tell," he said, grateful for the change in topic, "Janus will be able to send me back. Rupert, Jenny, and I have mostly figured out what Ethan Rayne did, and from what I've learned of the laws of this word-based science, we can extrapolate what will be needed to replicate the reality modulator. But there are several items of financial significance on that list of parts, so I needed to get a job."

"So you just have to get money for parts?"

"Yep," he said, popping the p. "And then I'll be headed home." The Doctor looked at Xander. "And what will I find when I get there?"

Xander stared at him, shocked. "A-Are you really asking me to give you future information? Won't that make it-won't that fix it?"

"You're right of course." He sighed and sat back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling. "Sorry. I shouldn't have asked. But when I mentioned Rose and Jackie-well let's just say I'm a bit worried."

Xander looked at his shoes. "If I can figure out a way to warn you before you leave, I will. But I'll try to keep the timeline as uncertain as possible."

The Doctor said, "You've already told me one thing, though."

"I did?"

Worry filled the Doctor's face. "You've told me I'll want to change it."

Notes: Sorry this took so long. RL threw me a curve, and I don't really care for most of this episode, but it's important to let the Doctor and Xander's relationship grow. (Not that kind, you pervs! The Doctor only has eyes for Rose! ;) )

I've already made a couple of decisions about certain people's fates. This series is going to be half merger and half transformation. There are some fixed points, here, things that can't change or the rest of the timeline will suffer. But not everything is a fixed point just because it's canon. Something really has to allow the world to be changed in a fundamental way or become part of a time traveler's personal timeline to become fixed. Examples of fixed points in Doctor Who include the death of Adelaide Brooks and of Amy and Rory. History can be rewritten, but not once you've read it, which is why Xander is being so careful.

Thanks to my two reviewers, AWandersHaven and James Birdsong. I'm glad to have given you both something to enjoy, and I hope I continue to do so.