The Hell-er-Nator: Book I –
Chaos Machine
by Ironbear
"Not allowed to add 'In accordance with the prophesy' to the end of answers I give to a question an officer asks me." – 213 Things Skippy is no longer allowed to do in the United States Army
Chapter One: Dark Powers Rising...
Monday, October 27, 1997: Sunnydale High School, Morning -
For a Monday, especially a Monday on a school day, Xander Harris wasn't in all that bad a mood, surprisingly. He had his two best buds with him, there didn't seem to be any supernatural horror about to pounce and eat their faces – for once – and all seemed well with the world.
Surprisingly, because in a lot of ways, he still hadn't recovered from having a girl he'd really kind of liked crumble to dust and rot practically on his lips. Worse: a very pretty girl who had also almost seemed to really kind of like him, too. Ampata the Inca Mummy girl... he still had nightmares about that whole thing.
Scratch that. No 'almost' about it. Ampata had really kind of liked him. He was sure of it, which made it worse. She just hadn't liked him enough to not try and suck his soul and life energy out through his tonsils when it came right down to it. Not that he could really quite manage to hold that against her: people did some seriously freaksome things when they were facing certain death. He'd seen way too many variations of that in the past year.
Which was kind of depressing in and of itself.
No sixteen year old should have to have seen that many variations on the "Oh my gods we're all gonna die!" theme, in his opinion.
Anyway, compared to the Ampata thing, getting forcibly dressed up as a girl in a Frat hazing while trying to help rescue Buffy and Cordelia Chase from evil demon worshiping Frat Boys a couple of weeks ago was small change. Still, it was good for what little manliness reputation he had that – for once – Cordelia had kept her natural instinct to humiliate him in check and hadn't broadcast that around the school. She was probably saving it for a special occasion...
Still, no demon mummy girl nightmares for several days. No nightmares of being chased around a Frat House by undead clowns while dressed as a girl, either. All in all, a win-win sitch. And Halloween was coming up, which had to be just about his favorite holiday in the year.
Or at least it had been, before discovering that he lived on a Hellmouth, complete with extra servings of Hell. Probably meant there were going to be real ghoulies, goblins, and ghosties out and about, and they'd have to be out in it, slaying them.
They passed by a "Vote Cordelia Chase for Homecoming Princess!" poster on one wall, and Xander's head turned to study it as he went past. It had a large picture of Cordy wearing some sort of shiny looking gray, bare midriff workout outfit and sitting on a set of gymnastics bars, wearing one of her brightest Beauty Queen smiles. He almost had to laugh out loud at the "Vote Now! Vote Early! Vote Often!" across the bottom.
Pure Cordelia Chase. Accept no substitutes... although why you'd want a substitute, or even the original for that matter, kind of escaped him.
The poster looked professionally done, complete to the little pockets at the bottom corners with Take One! Pictures. He'd be willing to bet they had the same "Vote for Cordy!" and "Vote now, early and often!" slogans printed on them, front and back.
Willow caught his gaze and followed it, smirking when she saw the poster. "Wow. Campaign early, campaign often," she said.
Xander wrenched his mind back from wherever it had gone, and gradually tuned Buffy and Willow back in. No need or desire to have them notice his mind was a million miles away from here, and ask him about it. A lot of the stuff in his mind these days wasn't something you shared with your buddies. Especially not girl buddies.
"Huh," Xander said, "Oh joy – it's our favorite time of year." He pointed to the sign up posters for the Annual Volunteer Halloween Escort Service all over the walls as well as they headed into the school.
"Oh, yeth," Willow said, rolling her eyes. "Duck season. Wabbit season. Rugrat season!"
"Heh. Tourist season is when it's ok to shoot them," Xander intoned. "Too bad that doesn't apply to the sign up committee."
Buffy gave them curious looks, and read the posters as they went by. "But I thought you two guys liked Halloween?"
"Oh, we do, we do," Willow said. "We just don't care for the," she made finger quotes, "Organized school approved Halloween activities."
"Ah."
The three of them came out of the cross hallway into the main school drag just in time to see Principal Troll, err, Snyder snag a sign up clipboard from one of the sign up tables and grab the nearest girl walking past him. Too late, unfortunately, to turn suddenly and duck back and go another direction, darn it.
"Hey!" the girl yelped as Snyder spun her around.
"Hey nothing," Snyder said, shoving the clipboard and pen at her. "You're volunteering."
"But I have to get to class... " she complained.
Snyder just shrugged and looked impatiently at her. They took advantage of his focus on his prey to slide past him, hopefully without being noticed. Xander glared and shook his head at the kid at the sign up table who looked up at him hopefully.
"Snyder must be in charge of the volunteer safety program for Halloween this year," Willow said.
"Yeah. And note his interesting take on the concept of 'volunteering'," Xander said, smirking.
Buffy waved at the posters as they came to a halt by Willow's locker. "What's the deal?" she said.
"Oh, every year, a bunch of little kids need people to take them trick-or-treating," Xander said, "Sign up and get your own pack of sugar-hyped little runts for the night."
"Yup," Willow said, working the combination on her lock. "Our very own Sunnydale High tradition."
"Yikes!" Buffy said, "I'll stick to vampires, thanks."
Buffy yelped again as a hand grabbed her shoulder from behind, and Xander looked past her to see Snyder with his clipboard. He sighed as Buffy spun to face the runty Principal.
"Miss Summers. Just the juvenile delinquent I've been looking for," Snyder said.
"Principal Snyder!" Buffy said, "Jeeze, you scared the He- uh, heck out of me."
Snyder smirked. "Halloween must be a big night for you. Tossing eggs, keying cars, bobbing for apples, one pathetic cry for help after another," he said, leading her towards the sign up table, "Well, not this year, Missy."
Xander and Willow followed, coming up to stand behind and to either side of Buffy.
Buffy sighed dramatically. "Gosh, I'd love to sign up, but I recently developed carpal tunnel syndrome, and can tragically no longer hold a flashlight," she said.
"Right," Snyder said. He picked up a pen and held the clipboard out to her. "The program starts at four, the children have to be back at six-thirty sharp. Don't be late and do not get the kids back late unless you want detention until after Graduation. Assuming you make it that far."
Xander gave Buffy an amused and encouraging smirk. Her obvious reluctance and outrage was actually kind of funny. Willow just looked concerned, and frustrated.
Frowning, Buffy took the pen with obvious reluctance, and scribbled her name. She rolled her eyes, and said, "Fine. Can I go now?"
"Get to class," Snyder said agreeably. "Ah! Not you two – stop right there," he added, looking at Xander and Willow.
Xander raised an eyebrow as Snyder held out pens to him and Willow. Buffy took the opportunity to give him back the amused smirk, in spades. She stuck her tongue out at him while Snyder had his back to her. He and Willow gave Snyder pleading looks that just begged not to be put through this. To no avail, naturally...
Willow gave in first and took the pen, sighing.
"Oh, don't look so forlorn, Rosenberg," Snyder said, rolling his eyes. "Just think: you can put it on your transcripts as an extra curricular. And you – " he looked at Xander, "Need the extracurriculars. Assuming you can even spell the word."
"Extracurricular, K-A-T, extracurricular," Xander said, rolling his own eyes. He took the pen Snyder was holding out, and scrawled his own John Xander after Willow finished. "Fine. I'm all volunteered now. Volunteered, D-R-A-F-T-I-D. Volunteered."
"Ha ha," Snyder said, smirking at both of them. "You really should go into comedy after you fail to graduate. It might give you an alternative to line cook at Burger Hut."
"With such encouragement and such a sterling example as yourself, how can I fail, sir?" Xander said, his expression and voice sour.
"Hah again," Snyder said. "Hold up, Summers. This concerns you, too." Buffy stopped, giving him an inquiring look as she turned. "Costumes are mandatory. And nothing too trashy, either. I know how you kids like to dress."
"In clothing?" Buffy said, wearing her best innocent look.
Snyder was already turning to his next victim, err, volunteer, and ignored her. They all shrugged and started to head away posthaste, before he came up with anything else, until they saw who his next victim was...
"Ah, Miss Chase," Snyder said. "Just the person I wanted to see. Thank you so much for volunteering this year." He thrust a pen and the clipboard in Cordelia's direction. Her coterie of Cordettes scattered hastily to the four winds while Snyder was focused on their leader.
She stepped back hastily, holding up her hands as if to ward off something foul. "Eww! As if!" Cordelia said. "I'm so not volunteering for duty."
"See? Cordelia knows the difference between 'volunteer' and 'draftee'," Xander remarked.
"Bet she can't spell it, though," Willow said. They smirked at each other and continued watching the little drama.
"I already tried the carpal tunnel defense," Buffy called over. "It failed dramatically."
"Oh, please," Cordelia said, smirking back at her as Snyder shot Buffy a dark look. "I can do so much better."
"Oh? I can't wait," Snyder said, "I quiver with anticipation." He gave the cheerleader an expectant look. "Amaze me."
"And, eww, on the quivering thing," Cordelia paused, looking ill for a moment, and then smiled brightly and said, "I have a date. And a party. And a daddy who is on the school board and who gives, like, tons of money to the alumni fund every year after Homecoming." Her smile broadened and took on definite toothpaste commercial overtones. Malicious ones. "Donations that won't be, when he finds out how his daughter's entire Halloween was absolutely ruined by our Principal."
Snyder froze for a moment, and then gave her a sour glare, pulling the clipboard and pen back. "Fine. Ruin your list of extracurriculars. See if I care."
"Wow. She's good," Buffy said, as Cordelia's smile brightened and she gave a slightly mocking half bow in their direction.
"I'd be jealous," Xander said, nodding, "But I'm too busy being in awe."
Willow nodded, and said, "I like the way she distracted the predator so the rest of the herd could escape." They headed off towards Home Room, by way of Buffy and Xander's lockers.
Buffy looked at her. "Way too much Discovery Channel, Will. We're not going to have to stage an intervention, are we?" Willow grinned at her, sticking her tongue out.
"I can't believe this," Xander complained, working at his combination. "We have to get dressed up and the whole deal?"
"Well," Willow said, frowning. "Snyder said costumes were mandatory."
"Besides," Buffy said, looking at him, "Weren't you planning to costume all up anyway?"
"Well, yeah," Xander said, shrugging. "To go to the Bronze for the annual Halloween party and hang out, now that we're like, actual high school kids and can. Not to haul around a bunch of sugar jazzed curtain climbers."
"You think you've got it bad," Buffy said. "For me? Great. I was gonna stay in and veg. The one night a year things are supposed to be quiet for me."
"Halloween quiet?" Xander blinked. "Oh, I figured it'd be a big old vamp scare-a-palooza," he said. He slammed his locker shut after taking out an armload of books, and they headed off.
"Not according to Giles. He swears that Halloween night is, like," she said, "Seriously dead for the undead." She opened the Home Room door for the others, and followed them in. "They stay in."
Xander grinned at her as they headed for seats at the back of the classroom. "Those wacky vampires! That's why I love 'em! They just keep you guessing!"
Monday, October 27, 1997: Rural Jamaica, Early Afternoon –
"Kendra?"
Kendra put down the sword she was sharpening as her Watcher's voice called out from the next room. "Yes?" She stood immediately and went to see what he required of her.
Dr. Samuel Zabuto, Watcher, turned his wheelchair from his desk to face her as she entered the house's research library. "Ah. Thank you," he said. "I was just about to go to you."
"No need," Kendra said. "What can I do for you, sir?" She clasped her hands behind her back, standing straight, and looking him in the eye, as she'd been taught from childhood.
"I've just finished running another set of auguries for the near future," Zabuto said, looking troubled.
"What do they say, sir?' Kendra frowned. Anything that caused her Watcher to look troubled couldn't possibly be good news. He hadn't looked this perturbed years ago when the doctors had informed him that his back was broken, and he'd probably never walk again, after the demon attack that had left him paralyzed.
"Apparently, there is to be some sort of Dark Power rising very soon in Southern California, at the site of the active Hellmouth," Dr. Zabuto stated.
"Sunnydale, sir?" Kendra frowned. When Zabuto nodded, she raised an eyebrow, and said, "Do the auguries inform of what sort of dark power?"
Both of them spoke in French, which was much easier for her than English or even her Watcher's native Swahili.
"No. They do not," he said. "Merely that it, whatever it is, will manifest fully upon the night of Samhain. What the American's celebrate as 'Halloween'."
"Hmm." Kendra frowned thoughtfully, considering. "I had thought that, for the most part, Samhain was a relatively inactive night for the supernatural, sir."
"It is, normally," Zabuto said, nodding. "However, as on Walpurgisnacht, it is a day when the boundaries between our world and the spirit realms are at their weakest. As such, it is often a favored night for human practitioners wishing to raise something, or to cast dark rituals."
"Sunnydale, California, sir," Kendra said. "Is that not the home of the previous Slayer?"
"It is," Zabuto said, agreeing with her. "Or was, rather. Reports from the Council, as well as your own activation, indicate that she passed some months ago. However, her former Watcher, Rupert Giles, is still on station there," Zabuto added. Kendra nodded.
"What do you wish of me?" she said.
Zabuto sighed. "You're going to need to travel to the Hellmouth, obviously," he said. "We cannot allow something such as this to pass without having the active Slayer on hand."
Kendra nodded, feeling a sudden surge of excitement. Not only action, and solo action at that, but her first major mission since being Called. She couldn't wait to show what she could do, and make her Watcher proud of her.
"I will pack a bag, and make ready for the journey," she said, controlling her voice and expression so as to not betray her anticipation.
Zabuto nodded. "I will get your Passport and documents from the lock box, and call to arrange your flight to California," he said. "And I will prepare a bank draft for you to cash to pay for your airline ticket as well as for your expenses."
Kendra nodded. She, of course, would not waste the draft on anything so frivolous as an airline ticket. She figured she could get onto the plane and travel without being seen or stopped, without a ticket. A Slayer was supposed to be resourceful, after all. The money could be put to far better use as expense money, if needed, for her travails in America.
But, of course, what her Watcher didn't know wouldn't concern him...
"Your instructions, sir?"
"Observe, investigate, and locate the source of the rising. Eliminate that source and prevent the rising if at all possible. You may need to, or wish to, make contact with Rupert Giles and avail yourself of his resources as needed," Zabuto said. He sighed, looking at her. "I wish that I could be with you on this, however... " he gestured at his useless legs.
Kendra nodded, attempting to not show that she was swallowing past a sudden lump in her throat, and a sudden tightness in her chest.
She would never, ever say such a thing, of course, but... the fact that Zabuto's injuries had left him unfit for active field duty did not displease her. As she looked at the older man that she had long ago come to consider more her father than her dimly and vaguely remembered actual male parent, she reflected that it would not bother her if Samuel Zabuto never ever put himself in harm's way again.
That was the Slayer's job. Her job.
The Slayer fought. The Watcher watched, and recorded. And that was the way of things, and how it should be.
That the arrangement prevented her Watcher from coming to any further harm was irrelevant, of course.
A Slayer was above and beyond such personal feelings...
Nothing of this passed across her face, of course. Kendra would have been amazed and appalled if she had know just how transparent her emotions were, and just how easily Zabuto could read her.
All that she said, however, was, "I will go and make ready. And I will make you proud, sir."
She turned and left the room, heading back to her own quarters to begin finding and packing the few things she would need for the journey.
As she passed out of the room, she heard Zabuto say, softly and in Swahili, "I am always proud, child," and she couldn't help the sudden glow that filled her.
Monday, October 27, 1997: Sunnydale High School, Afternoon -
"So, any idea what you're gonna go as, Xand?" Buffy asked as the trio headed into the school Lounge.
Xander shrugged. Not really a problem for him, at least not this year. He'd already planned ahead for the Bronze party, anyway.
"Oh, no worries," Xander said. "Just call me the Two-Dollar Costume King, baby." Buffy raised her eyebrows, and he elaborated. Willow just grinned, having already heard this... "I have some old fatigues and a camo undershirt from the Army Surplus store on Greenville. Plus my old surplus military boots. And some blank insignia and patches from the novelty place at the Mall." He grinned, and said, "All I need is a toy rifle and pistol, and ta da! Instant Soldier, just add Xander."
"Wow. I'm impressed," Buffy said. "You should write Hints for Heloise. How to costume on a shoestring."
Xander tossed his book pack onto a table, staking a claim, and gave her a short bow, smirking. "I don't like to blow my own horn, but... The Xand Man is just, well, good."
Buffy smirked back and looked at Willow. "And you? Hint hint – I'm obviously searching desperately for ideas."
"Ah. Hence the interrogation," Willow said, nodding. She shrugged, frowning slightly.
Xander threw an arm around her shoulder. "Will will do as she has for the past twelve years: dress as a ghost. It's a time hallowed Sunnydale tradition."
"Hey! I might not, either!" Willow threw his arm off, scowling at him. "I could do... do something, uh, daring this time!"
"Yeah. After all, it is come as you aren't night," Buffy said.
Xander started to remark that Willow hadn't dressed as a ghost for the Cultural Dance, and look at how that nearly turned out, but bit the comment back. Too close to home, and too raw right now. For him, if not for Willow...
Buffy, apparently, didn't have the same reservations. "She didn't dress as an Eskimo Ghost for the Cultural Dance," she said. She also then apparently saw Xander's abruptly frozen expression, and gave him a rueful look. "And I think I'll shut up now, and just go sit down right here and eat worms or something."
"Good plan," Xander said, his voice sour. "I like it." He reached into his pocket, digging for change.
"I'll join you," Willow said, quietly. She took a seat on the couch next to Buffy as Xander dug out a handful of quarters and headed over to the row of vending machines.
Scowling inwardly, Xander stuffed a dollar's worth of change in the machine and pressed the button for a Root Beer.
Nothing happened.
He sighed and hit a different one this time, trying for an Orange. Nothing again. The machine gurgled quietly at him, and the light over the Orange went out. That was it.
Frustrated, he smacked the machine on the front, and then on the side. Tried the Dr. Pepper this time. Still nothing.
While he was considering his next strategy, an all too familiar voice bellowed, "Harris!" and meaty hand came down on his shoulder. Xander sighed, and turned, leaning back against the drink machine and folded his arms across his chest.
"Lar! Hey," he said, "You're lookin' all Cro-Mag as usual. What can I do you for?"
"You and Buffy, you're just friends, right?" Larry said, looking earnestly at him.
"I like to think of it less as a friendship," Xander said, smirking upward at the taller teen, "And more as a solid foundation for future bliss."
Larry's forehead creased. Xander figured he was trying to process the words with more than one syllable... he apparently failed, and said, "So, she, she's not your girlfriend?"
"Alas, no."
Larry glanced over his shoulder at Buffy and Willow as he moved to put himself between view of them and Xander. "So," he said, "Do you think she'd go out with me?" He faced Xander with Buffy to his back now.
"Well, Lar, that's a tough question to... " Xander shook his head slowly, and said, "No. Not a chance."
Larry blinked. "Why not? I heard some guys say she was fast."
"I hope you mean like the wind," Xander said, scowling.
Larry made a dismissive gesture and smirked. "Yeah, you know what I mean." He did everything except the Monty Python nudge nudge wink wink routine to telegraph his meaning.
A blind idiot could have gotten it.
Xander scowled up at him. "That's my friend that you're talkin' about!"
"Oh, yeah?" Larry's smirk broadened. "Well, what're you gonna do about it?"
With an internal sigh, Xander said, "I'm gonna do what any man would do about it," he unfolded his arms and grabbed Larry by the shirt, silently reflecting on his imminent death by Cro-Magnon, "Somethin' damn manly!"
Larry grinned and laughed, knocking Xander's hands to the sides and grabbed him by the shirt with his left hand. He slowly balled his right hand into a fist and cocked it, drawing it back for an overhand punch.
The punch never fell.
A small hand caught Larry's wrist and the punch stopped dead in the air, several inches away from Xander's face.
Buffy hauled down on the wrist, pulling it behind his back and up, and slammed his head forward into the vending machine as Xander hastily stepped to the side.
A Diet Dr Pepper rolled into the slot with a clunk as Larry's head rebounded from the machine.
"Get gone," Buffy suggested, pulling Larry back from the machine and shoving him away. "Ooh! Diet," she said, noticing the soda. She reached down and grabbed the can, ignoring Larry.
"Freeze!" Snyder's voice cut across the lounge like a whip crack. Buffy froze with the can to her lips, raising an eyebrow. "I saw that whole thing from the doorway."
"You can see that far?" Xander said. "And that high up?"
Snyder glared at him, and then aimed an index finger at him. "You. Detention this afternoon," he said. Turning, he aimed it at Larry, and added, "You, detention also, for bullying."
"Hey!" Xander said, "What did I get detention for? Being a target?"
"Hey!" Larry echoed. "I can't have detention! I have football practice after school."
Snyder scowled, folding his arms across his chest. "You're right," he said, grudgingly. Larry's smirk died aborning as Snyder added, "Which means there's nothing preventing you from showing up for the Saturday Morning Breakfast Club Detention Group." Snyder's smile turned absolutely vicious. "I'm hosting it myself this weekend. Don't even dream that it will be like the movie."
"But but... " Larry's protests wilted under Snyder's glare. Larry turned his own glare on Xander. "You and me, Harris. Count on it. Sooner or later, you won't have your bodyguard." He turned on his heel and lumbered off as Snyder turned his attention back to Xander.
"As long as you're not on school grounds or time, I don't care," Snyder told his retreating back. He turned to Xander again. "And you. Detention tomorrow afternoon also," Snyder said. "For not knowing when to keep your mouth shut."
Xander opened his mouth to protest, and then closed it when Snyder raised an eyebrow and looked at him expectantly. Giving him a satisfied nod, Snyder turned and stalked, or more like, strutted out of the lounge.
Sighing, Xander turned a sour expression on Buffy. "Do you know what you just did?" he asked.
"Saved you a dollar?" Buffy said, taking another drink of her soda.
"No, but thank you for playing," Xander said. "Considering that I was going for a Root Beer, and for drinking it myself. But... Larry was about to pummel me!"
"Oh, that? Forget about it!" Buffy turned to head back to the table, tossing, "No need to thank me."
"Don't worry, I wasn't planning to," Xander said. "And, oh, I'll forget about it." He followed her, adding, "In maybe fifteen, twenty years when my rep for being a sissy man finally fades!"
Buffy stopped and turned to face him. "Xander, don't you think you're... "
Xander interrupted her, saying, "A black eye heals, Buffy, but cowardice has an unlimited shelf life. Oh, thanks! Thanks a lot for your help."
Xander rolled his eyes as an equally familiar and caustic voice cut over their discussion.
"Wow. In a long string of pathetic moments, that was another one," Cordelia Chase said, her perfect eyebrow lifted and a smirk on those full lips.
"Cordelia," Xander said, "I should have known you were here by the way all the atmosphere left the room."
Cordelia's smirk broadened slightly and her other eyebrow went up. He could swear there was almost a look of appreciation in those hazel eyes.
"And on that note, I think I'll leave you to your impending verbal dismemberment," Buffy said.
"Hey, no, now you can intervene," Xander said, hastily. "Cordelia being less in the male bully, and more in the demonic harpy category."
Cordelia choked, looking like she was swallowing a laugh, as Buffy turned away, waving it off. "No, no. You're on your own with this one," Buffy called back to them.
"Gee, thanks."
"Demonic harpy, to the vampire slayer, huh?" Cordelia said, lowering her voice so it wouldn't carry beyond the two of them and across the lounge. "That was actually... not completely pathetic."
"I am so glad you approve," Xander said, scrubbing a hand through his hair. "And you wanted?"
"Aside from witnessing your continuing social demise?" Cordelia turned to take a few steps to the soda machine. Xander trailed after, starting to say something about it being broken, and then caught himself and didn't. "And commenting on it?"
Cordelia fed quarters into the machine, punched for a Diet Pepsi, and tapped her foot as the machine gurgled for a moment and then spit one out into the slot. Figures. She reached down and picked it up, opening it to take a drink. "Actually, that's more than enough to entertain me," Cordelia said, smirking at him.
"I always knew you were easily entertained," Xander said, sourly. For a day that started out all right, this one sure went down hill in a hurry.
Cordelia lowered her voice even farther, to a harsh whisper. "What in the hell were you thinking," she said, "Dorksome? Larry will kill you!"
Xander blinked at her. "Uh... and you care, because?"
"I so don't!" Cordelia said, her eyes flashing at him. "Get pounded into mush! But what were you thinking?"
"Uh... " Xander wrenched his completely derailed mind back onto the tracks, or close enough. "I was thinking that I don't want to let guys like Larry think they can talk about my friends the way he was."
"Oh, jeeze. Machismo, much?" Cordelia said, her tone scathing. She rolled her eyes. "Men."
"And again, you care why?"
"Aside from the fact that Buffy has no idea how to run a subtle intervention, and like, zero understanding of the guy codes," Cordelia looked at him. "I don't, really. But you, like, did save my life a few weeks ago with the Frankenstein Twins. I haven't forgotten that. Idiot."
Xander blinked again, feeling a slow grin start to spread across his lips. For a moment here, Cordelia was almost starting to resemble the girl he'd grown up with in kindergarten and grade school. It was almost... kinda nice.
"Forget it," Xander said, waving it off. "I didn't do anything that needs paying back."
"As if!" Cordelia said, her eyes flashing again. "Get this straight, loser. I don't owe people. Especially not geeks and dorks!"
Her voice gradually went up on the last sentence until the 'geeks and dorks' could probably have been heard across the Quad outside. A few moments later he figured out why as Harmony's voice came from behind him.
"Geeks and dorks?" Harmony said, strolling up with the rest of Cordelia's posse trailing behind her like monstrous ducklings. "What. They need to spray again?" The rest of the Cordettes giggled obediently on cue.
All of them except for the new exchange student, Tamara, who just frowned slightly, first at the others, and then at Xander and Cordelia. And Aura Breckenridge, who laughed and scowled obediently at Xander, and then whose eyes narrowed slightly at Harmony.
"Oh, please," Cordelia said, stalking past him and bumping Xander out of her way with a hip. "Like there's a strong enough fumigator for the infestation we have around here."
"Harpy," Xander called after her.
"Lamoid!"
"Call girl."
"You wish! Like you could afford me, Skater Punk."
"Naw. Chewing my arm off after doesn't appeal to me."
"Creep!"
"She-beast." Grinning, Xander sent a parting shot across Cordelia's stern as she swept out after the Cordettes. Really nice looking stern, too, he reflected, not for the first time...
Remembering Larry and his upcoming death by cro-mag killed both the grin and the pleasant fantasies about Cordelia's stern. Oh well... not like he hadn't been dealing with getting pounded on by jocks and bullies since, well, forever. Larry would probably have cooled off in a day or so.
Uh... make that a week or so past Saturday detention.
Xander reappraised the situation. He probably should avoid the jock until some time well after Homecoming. Maybe well after Thanksgiving, even. Crap. He was doomed.
.