A Fresh Start Part 4
A Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fanfiction
by DaBear
This story is a work of (fan)fiction. The characters of Buffy The Vampire Slayer in no way belong to me, they belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. In other words there is no intent to make money here, so don't sue me.
Rating: R for violence, sexual situations and language
Spoilers: Up until the end of season 2 then I am off into my own little AU
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Third Person POV
The door to Room 214 of the Starry Eye Motel opens with a bang and a shudder as an angry Xander Harris comes barging through the door, muttering to himself about cutthroat motel managers and the interesting ways that they can be killed. "They're evil right?" he asks himself "They rob of us of our last dollar and smile as they do so. Evil, must be killed. Oh, yes." Dropping the duffle onto the bed with a soft clank, and pocketing the room key Xander looks around the room and frowns at the state its in. One double bed with beige sheets is on the right hand wall with a table and lamp between it and the far wall. A small table and chair near the bathroom door and a 3-drawer dresser with a sitting atop it with its antennae drooping at and oddly sad little angle. Everything seems to be older then he is and showing its age in scuff marks, rips, tears and all around disrepair.
Sitting down on the bed he emits a low moan of protest as his injured kidneys reminds him that playing tag with vampires is hazardous to ones health. He absently rubs at it while reaching into his duffle and, moving the weapons around, grabs at his clothing at the bottom of the bag, pulling out a pair of cut off sweat pants. Shifting up and off the bed Xander heads into the bathroom while unbuckling the shoulder rig.
Flipping on the bathroom light Xander steps up to the counter and setting the gun on the countertop next to the sink, turns around to get a look at his back. Frowning at the huge ugly looking bruise discoloring most of his lower back and side, Xander twists a bit to check his mobility and winces. Already he can feel the muscles tightening up and starting to get set for a good long ache. Grimacing softly, Xander then turns back around to face the mirror and tilts his head to get a good look at the bite mark and bruises on his neck. Fingering the bite mark gently Xander winces in pain and drops his hand down to the medallion hanging around his neck as he sighs at the mirror. Fingering the bright silver half circle Xander stares into the mirror and clears his throat.
"Ok, old man time to work your magic." Reaching up with both hands Xander grasps the corners of the pendent and bows his head. Closing his eyes he concentrates for a few seconds before anything happens. Even though Xander has never seen this before, he has worked this particular magic more then once.
Slowly, ever so slowly a gray mist seeps from the silver medallion and lazily drifts to the floor to wrap itself catlike around Xanders' ankles. As more mist escapes the necklace more and more of his body is covered by the mist, it slithers its way up and around his legs to his waist and like a lovers hands it slides up and across his chest. The mist encroaches upon his neck and slides up and over his face, and once every part of Xander was covered the mist begins to darken in color to a steely gray and the texture of the mist hardens, the mist beginning to take form and shape. It snaps into shape in an instant, like someone flipping a switch; from mist one second to medieval suit of armor the next. Gauntleted hands still gripping the medallion tightly and with eyes still closed Xander grunts in brief exertion as the mist suddenly takes weight and he struggles not to fall over at the sudden shift on his center of mass. Then in an explosive light and with nary a whisper of sound the armor reverts to mist once more and the mist gets sucked back into the necklace with the sudden force of a Category 3 tornado, and Xander, taking a stumbling step back opens his eyes to look into the mirror.
A brief flash of gray obscures his vision for a second when he first opens his eyes and then the mirror comes into sharp focus. Looking into the mirror and tilting his head back Xander proceeds to examine his neck. The fresh bruises are gone and where the vampire had broken the skin, there was only a small scar. Frowning at the scar Xander shakes his head and fingers it lightly. He knows that if he had let it heal normally it probably wouldn't have scared but when using the healing magic of the medallion every break in the skin scarred, no matter how small. Twisting and turning his back while still looking at his neck Xander checks out the motion of his back, when satisfied that the pain was gone he leans forward and putting both hands on the counter stares into the mirror intently.
Crisscrossing his chest, arms and face are numerous small and not so small scars, silent testament to his many uses of the magic medallion over the last three months. //The Old Man comes through again.// Xander muses silently. //At least this time there is only the one small scar, unlike Phoenix. Jeeze what a cluster fuck that was.// Absentmindedly fingering four scars that cross his chest from his upper right hand pectoral muscle to well under the waistband on the left hand side of his pants. //I really need to get some sort of body armor if I am going to keep doing this.//
The medallion flashes as if agreeing with him. Chuckling and shaking his head to himself at his flights of fancy Xander stands up and bends over to untie his boots. He had picked them up in L.A. two days after leaving Sunnydale, his luck being what it had been lately he had only been in L.A. for two hours before a vampire had attacked him. During the tussle Xander had managed to not only rip open his tennis shoe, but break one of his toes as well. After staking the vampire Xander decided that he needed a little more... study footwear. So he bought a nice pair of Grinders. Twenty holes reinforced steel toe boots with a steel shank along the length of the foot. Great for all sorts of mayhem.
Tugging off his boots and socks Xander stands back up and dropping his pants to the floor grabs the shoulder rig and un-holsters the pistol. Setting it atop the tank for the toilet Xander steps into the shower and slides the curtain across the rod, leaving it open so that he can see the toilet and a bit of the mirror. Turning on the shower he winces as the cold water tries to freeze off his bits and pieces. Side stepping the water until it warms up Xander ducks his head under the stream letting the coldness soak his head and as the water heats up he goes over the night in his head.
//I've got about $40 left and that will only get me one more night in this dump with maybe enough for a small lunch as they have one of those continental breakfast's in the morning. Gotta get up in time for that as I can then eat enough to refill my energy reserves. Healing takes a lot of energy.// Washing his hair with the itty bitty bottle of shampoo the motel provides Xander can't help but think of Faith. //Man, she was pissed, guess her Watcher did the whole 'secret identity' thing on her too. But damn she was a Goddess.// Rinsing out his hair as the water starts to go cold again Xander smiles and shakes his head. //What is it with Slayers and me? I think that there is a hormone that they give out that I am susceptible to.// Laughing to himself Xander steps out of the shower after turning off the water and grabs the towel to start getting dry.
After collecting all his gear Xander heads out to the bedroom and pulling on the sweat shorts he empties his duffle onto the bed to resort his cloths and clean his guns and other weapons. Gathering all his cloths he puts them on the floor next to the bed and unfolding the cleaning kit and proceeds to unassemble and clean the Desert Eagle and reload the clip he had emptied from his box of ammunition. Setting the pistol on the nightstand Xander grabs the cloths for tomorrow and setting them aside repacks the duffle with the shotgun on top and outside the bag. Setting the bag between the bed and the wall Xander flips off the light and slides under the sheets with a sigh.
As he slips into slumber the last coherent thought is of a brunette goddess with a taunting smile and warm brown eyes.