A/N: This is the original ending that I had planned for this story, before all of the feedback enjoying the dark tones. I felt that I should at least post it as an addition to the story, not just for myself, but for those that wanted a "series-style" end to the story.
Just think of is an "alternate ending" bonus feature.
XANDER HARRIS: EXECUTIONER 6
"Psyche Out"
Faith brought the stake down in a wide arc, intending to slam it through Xander's heart and into the marble slab beneath him. The Executioner had other ideas, twisting at the last possible moment, having been feigning his weakness, and sent the vampire sprawling off of him. Faith hit the ground rolling, coming up on her feet and spinning around to face the already standing Harris.
"You should learn some new dance moves," said Harris, drawing his sword from its sheath within the confines of his duster. "This one's already getting old."
"Damn you, Harris," cursed Faith. "Why can't you die as easily as your friends?"
"You know, Faithless, for the longest time I've been blaming my self for everyone's death. But you know what, it wasn't my fault at all. They were soft. They cared for someone and that led them to get sloppy."
"Hey, Harris," said Faith, smiling at him. "I'm starting to like your attitude."
"It's kept me alive this long."
"Why don't you let it keep you alive a lot longer, huh?" she asked, casting him a sultry look of desire. "I enjoyed you when I was human. I can't imagine what you would be like as one of us."
"Once again, no thanks. I prefer preying on the dead."
"Then I'm just going to have to kill you," said Faith, bating her eyelashes at him and trying to look sweet and remorseful.
"You can try."
"I can do it."
Again relying on her fantastic speed, Faith pulled her last stake out from her vest and threw it with enough force that it could have cleanly pierced an elephant. Harris was ready for the move, bringing his sword up in a side swing that deflected the stake away from him, and he stood holding the weapon before him in a mock salute.
"Like I said, you can try," snipped Harris.
The two circled each other, Faith looking for an opening in which to launch an attack and Harris just wanting to keep her at bay. The thought of beating her didn't even enter his mind, he merely wanted to keep the battle going, stalling until the next Initiative patrol would come by. He didn't know if he could do it, it would be almost two hours, but he was going to give it his all.
Concentrating on each other, neither Harris nor Faith noticed the swirling mists of blue-grey smog that began forming about two nearby graves. Graves that were part of a large plot set up ten years ago by a devastated Xander. Graves that held the bodies of his friends killed during Angelus's original rampage. Graves that belonged to Buffy Summers and Anya Harris.
The smog spiraled upwards, forming human shapes, and solidified into the beings of Buffy and Anya. The two women looked about, disoriented, and quickly zeroed in on the dueling Xander and Faith, about five yards from them. Trading looks of trepidation, the two beat a path for the combatants.
"Xander!" yelled Anya, running for her love.
Buffy headed for Faith, only slightly surprised to see her as a vampire, eager to keep her from killing Xander. She came to a sliding halt between the two, stake in hand, and glared at Faith with open contempt.
Anya went to wrap her arms around Xander, crying out in surprise as she flashed right through him to come to a stumbling stop. She spun around, confused as to what just happened, and looked to Xander with pleading eyes.
Harris apparently hadn't even noticed her, concentrating instead on the form of Buffy standing between him and Faith. His face was a mask of anger, rage his apparent reaction to the unexpected arrival of the long dead Slayer.
"Buffy," he snarled, still holding his sword at the ready. "What in the hell are you doing here? You're dead!"
Faith's brow furrowed as she looked at Xander in confusion.
"No I'm not, Xander," said Buffy, keeping her attention on Faith. "You're trapped in a…uh…an either…no…an…damn it, Giles told me…"
"Netherworld plain!" yelled Anya.
"Yeah, that's it," agreed Buffy.
"Anya?" wondered Xander, finally noticing her. "This is too much."
"Who the hell are you talking to?" demanded Faith. Then she smiled again, asking "is the Executioner losing it?"
"She can't see us," said Buffy.
"Buffy, I went right through him like…like a ghost."
"You are a ghost," said Xander, turning back to face Faith. "You're both ghosts."
"No, we're not," countered Anya. "Xander listen to us. You're trapped in a netherworld plain created by that ring that Willow gave you."
"What ring?" demanded Xander, looking quickly to his hands. "The only ring I ever wear is my wedding ring."
"That's not what it is," cried Anya. "Please, you have to listen to us, this is your only chance."
"Shouldn't talk to ghosts, Harris," said Faith. "It's distracting."
She lunged at him, passing through the form of Buffy to come flying at him with a snarl on her face and her claws poised to strike. Xander brought his sword up, but with his concentration broken by the distraction of the ghostly figures of Anya and Buffy, he wasn't fast enough. Instead of driving the sword through Faith's heart, the sword pierced her shoulder, foiling her attack but not killing her.
Faith and Xander slammed to the ground, the vampire gritting her teeth in pain as she wretched the sword from her shoulder. Xander rolled away from her, quickly rising to his feet, and pulled his .45s. He knew the guns wouldn't kill her, but they could do enough damage to buy him some time.
"Xander, take off the ring!" screamed Anya.
"Shut up!" yelled Harris, emptying both clips of his guns into the withering Faith.
The barrage of slugs tore into the vampire's chest and face, doing serious damage and locking her in the throws of agony. Faith was a powerful vampire, as was evident by the way that her body began healing almost immediately, and Harris cursed, knowing he had not bought himself as much time as he had hoped.
"Xander, you have to take off the ring to dispel this nightmare," pleaded Buffy.
"Leave me alone!" shouted Harris, turning and fleeing towards Spike's tomb.
He hit the heavy door hard, slamming it open, and immediately shut it behind him, sliding a large iron bar into place to effectively lock it. He looked about the dark chamber, trying to decide which booby-trap he should try and use against Faith. They had only set up three in here, confident that once she was inside, all of them would be able to take her out, and now that was working against him. The traps required at least two people, or someone with the speed of a vampire, to trigger, and Harris was wondering if he could pull it off.
Buffy and Anya materialized behind him, simply stepping through the walls, and continued their arguments.
"Xander Harris, listen to me," said Anya. "I love you with all of my heart, and I have spent the last two weeks setting by your side as you slowly slipped away from us. I will not loose you, not this way, not this time."
"You're a ghost, Anya," spat Harris. "You died a long time ago."
With a boom, a crack appeared in the solid door of the tomb, Faith having apparently healed enough to come after him with a vengeance. Her screams of hate and frustration could dimly be heard through the thick, stone walls.
"Xander, listen to her," said Buffy. "Willow was doing a spell of enlightenment on you because you kept bugging her about knowing your future. Her power reactivated the magic in the ring that she gave you for your birthday. It's called a ring of despair, and it's a cursed relic."
"Buffy, stop," said Xander, calmly, despite another shattering blow being delt to the door by Faith. "You and Anya are dead. Yes, I remember Willow's spell, but that was twelve years ago and it didn't work."
"Xander…" started Anya, silenced by a glare from Harris.
"When Faith got out on parole, she started working for Angel and they fell in love. Wesley thought he found a spell that would keep Angel from changing, but it was a fake. An old trap set by Wolfram and Hart that had been planted along time ago but never used.
"When Faith and Angel did the nasty, Angelus came back with a fury. He sired Faith then and there, and the two of them went on a bloody rampage. The rest, as I say, is history."
Anya moved, as if to grab Xander by the shoulders, and her hands passed right through him, inciting a curse from her. She spun around to face Buffy, her face streaked with tears and flush with frustration.
"Xander, I have asked you to take a lot on faith before," started Buffy, stepping up to face him.
"Funny choice of words," he smirked.
"And I'm asking you again. Please, trust us."
"Xander, honey, just take off the ring," pleaded Anya. "If we're telling you the truth, then you'll be free of this nightmare. If we're figures of your imagination, then nothing happens. So what? You've got nothing to lose by trying it."
The door boomed again, the crack in its center widening, and dust billowed from its edges as Faith continued battering at it.
"I've got myself to lose," said Xander. "If I give in to this madness, then I'm losing myself. Faith and Angelus have been so organized, so in the know, that they've been able to kill every new Slayer that is called. I'm not tooting my own horn here, but if not for me, things would be a hell of a lot worse."
BOOM!—three cracks were now in the door, its hinges nearly pulled out of their concrete base.
"Trust me," whispered Anya, looking at him through tear filled eyes. "I want you back, and if you don't fight this thing right now, we're going to lose you forever."
"I did all of this for you," replied Xander, barely loud enough to be heard.
"Trust in my love."
Xander slowly raised his head and looked her in the eyes, his own now threatening to release their own stream of tears.
"Come back to me, Xander."
With one final tremendous boom, the door crashed down, flooding the crypt with a rolling cloud of dust, the silhouette of Faith, back lit by moonlight, framed in the doorway. Faith roared with utter hatred, snarling in rage for the man that killed her Angelus; the man that had managed to actually hurt her; the man that had refused to roll over and die like the others.
Faith leapt as Xander at the same instant that he slipped of his wedding ring…
Elsewhere…
Xander's body jerked violently, arching for a moment before dropping back down to his bed, his lungs drawing in such a deep breath that it sounded like a gasp, and the monitoring equipment hooked up to him beeping wildly. His eyes snapped open for the first time in weeks, and he looked wildly about the room, taking the forms of everyone that was there.
Giles, Willow, Tara, Angel, Cordelia, and even Spike, were all huddled around his been, looking at him with concern. Between them, he could see Buffy and Anya setting in chairs, both of them moving groggily, as if they were just waking up. The air was thick with the smell of some incense, and there was a power to it that Xander immediately recognized as magic.
"Hi," said Xander, weakly, groaning as Willow wrapped her arms around him, welcoming him back to the real world.
Anya let out a squeal of delight as she came to her senses, and she leapt out of her chair, nearly knocking over Spike as he tended to the waking Buffy. Anya practically jumped onto the bed, hugging Xander tightly and showering his face with kisses, all the time thanking him for believing in her even though he thought she was dead.
"I missed you too," Xander finally managed to get out, before falling into a deep kiss with her.
"Oh, if this isn't a bloody Kodak moment," quipped Spike, drawing a wide-eyed look from Xander.
finish
