A Fresh Start Part 6
A Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fanfiction
by DaBear
Disclaimer: 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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Xander's left hand idly strokes the Fury demon scars as his eyes glaze over in memory of a week in the past that he both cherishes and dreads. Of a friend found and then lost within just a few short days. After a few seconds Xander blinks his eyes back into focus and looking at Faith he starts to tell a story, a story of friendship, honor and ultimately a story of death. "Phoenix was a cluster fuck from the word go..."
~~~~
The Moon was hanging low and full in the night sky, its reflected light shining down brightly upon the desert floor, as the Man in the Moon seems to have settled himself upon the desert mountaintops for the night to idly watch the cars as they travel through the night on the strip of freeway far below. The night itself was clear and cool as the stars in the sky sparkled like diamonds over the late-night landscape. The scorching heat of the desert afternoon had vanished soon after the sun had sunk beyond the horizon, leaving a chill to the air that will last the night until Apollo; in his chariot, drives the sun back across the sky.
The chill in the air is heightened by high speeds as a late model Ford LTD; unexceptional in its normalcy, is heading across the nighttime desert pointing east. Rubbing his arm to try and warm up Xander again curses his Uncle Rory as he glances down at the broken window lever. The knob and handle are lying in the backseat where he had thrown them earlier in the day after trying for the umpteenth time to fit it back on the door. The screw is so stripped that its impossible to get the lever to stay on, Xander growls to himself, at least the window was stuck in the down position. The air conditioner doesn't work, of course, so it was swelter a little during the 100-plus degree days and be a bit chilled during the cool desert nights. The chill in the car did serve a purpose though; it kept nipping at him to stay awake. The simple eight-hour drive from LA to Phoenix had turned into a 10-hour nightmare as the car had blown a tire outside of Yuma, AZ and, it turned out, the spare had been flat. While waiting on the side of the highway for a car to stop with a cell phone to call for a tow-truck Xander had planed out the myriad of deaths that were going to befall his used-car salesman uncle. Luckily he had been just outside of Yuma, rather then in the middle of nowhere; so the truck had gotten there in under 20 minutes after calling for it. And after two hours of baking in the desert, Xander was back on the road, $178.95 poorer.
After almost nodding off for the fifth time and only avoiding an accident by being woken up by the lights from traffic in the opposing lane Xander decided that the first exit with both food and a motel is the place for him. Pinching himself to stay awake he watches the side of the freeway for fast food signs and/or motels and after ten minutes he sees an exit coming up that has both a Motel 6 and a Waffle House sign. Sighing in relief he pulls off the freeway and heads up the ramp, at the top of the ramp he takes a left to head across the freeway and then pulls into the Waffle House parking lot. Coming to a stop below a broken parking lamp, a few spaces down from the diners' front door, Xander hops out of the car and stretches mightily. Sighing as he hears and feels some of the vertebrae in his back pop back into place, he then twists at the waist sharply and his back gives a final pop. Smiling in relief Xander reaches into the back seat to grab his olive drab duffle bag full of his misbegotten gear, cuz with what's in the bag he isn't planning on leaving that bag anywhere that someone can get their hands on it, especially in an unlocked car with the windows down. Tossing it over his shoulder and not bothering to lock the car door Xander walks up to the door and heads inside.
Giving the room a quick scan as he enters Xander sees two employees, the cook and a waitress, and three customers standing near the front door at the register in the process of settling their bill. Nodding to the cook and smiling in response to the waitress's greeting he walks to the back of the room and flops down onto the hard plastic bench seat that's near the rear storage doors that puts his back to the wall and leaves the front door clearly in his view. Placing the duffle on the table next to him he reaches over and grabs a menu to peruse its choices until the waitress finishes up with the register.
Stifling a yawn Xander stretches again to try and get at the persistent ache at the small of his back to pop. Sleeping last night in the car may have saved him money but it was defiantly not good for his back. Settling back in the seat he readjusts the opened Hawaiian shirt he had on so as it covered the shoulder holster, he doesn't want to scare the locals. After chasing down those vamps in LA and having them pull guns on him, Xander had decided that using some of the gear from his little heist would probably be in his own best interests of health. Never know when you would find more vamps that acknowledge the 20th century. To bad the gang hadn't let him keep the Strella, that had been fun bit of equipment. Apparently they had thought that he would blow up the school or something and had dropped it off in front of the army depot after wiping it down and casting a cleansing ritual over it. Xander had wrapped a pretty red bow on it to say thank you. Only Oz seemed to think it was funny. Go figure. Luckily Cordy wasn't really paying attention to what all they had gathered that night so Xander walked away from the deal with enough firepower to take over a small country… or at least enough to fit in the trunk of his car.
Xander snaps out of his reverie as Sarah, at least that is what her nametag reads, sits down in the seat across from him and drops a set of silverware in front of him, crosses her arms and leans forward, giving Xander a sparkling smile and showing off her low-buttoned blouse to fill advantage. With an obvious Southern twang she asks, "What can I do ya for?"
Smirking at her obvious flirtation Xander puts the menu back and says, "Hey, Sarah. I'd like the double cheeseburger with hash browns and a large Coke."
"Sure, Sugah." Sarah gets up with a grin and turns towards the front of the store where the soda dispenser was and asks the cook as she walks by " Did ya get that Tony?"
"Yup." Reply's the large Hispanic as he throws two patties on the grill.
Xander smiles briefly at the Oz-like response and watches Sarah's hips as she walks away. The term 'two cats fighting in a sack' comes to mind. She's a very attractive young woman, mid twenties Xander'd guess, slender and long legged. Not as beautiful as Cordy, or Buffy, but good-looking nonetheless. //Maybe I'll stay in town longer then I thought//
As Sarah is filling the large plastic cup she had gotten for Xander with ice two men walk into the diner. Both of the men are rather ragged looking, clothing is torn and stained by dirt and other less savory things, and one of them, the shorter of the two, was twitching just the slightest bit his hands not staying still and a twitch at his eye giving the appearance that he was constantly winking at something. Alarm bells started going off inside Xanders' head as he watches the two men glance furtively around the small diner.
It all becomes clear to Xander, as the taller of the two brings his arm up from under his jean-jacket //It's the jackets. // and levels a sawed off shotgun at Sarah's head. //Damnit. // Xander thinks //Should have known. Who wears jackets in June in Phoenix.. // As the second man brings out a hand gun to shakily cover the cook and Xander, the taller fellow with the shotgun is yelling at Sarah to open the register and give him all the money. At this point Xander reaches the idea that they are probably being held up by two junkies looking for quick money for their next fix, and he starts to get scared. Vampires and demons he can deal with, at least they are predictable in there behaviors, junkies are something else, junkies are something that he has only seen in the movies, because in Sunnydale junkies just don't last more then a few days on the streets before they become a walking Happy-Meal for one of the night crew.
Not knowing what to expect Xander watches warily as the second junkie walks towards him as Sarah is pulling open the register. Gesturing with the gun the second junkie tells Xander, "H… hand over the bag."
Quirking his eyebrow the man Xander calmly tells him, "Not happening." //There is no way in Hell I am allowing two junkies to walk away with military grade ordinance. // Xander thinks to himself as he watches the surprised look cross the junkies face.
Frowning at Xander the junkie brings the automatic pistol to bear, which Xander absentmindedly identifies as a Colt M1911A, and reaches across the table to grab the duffle bag. //Shit, shit, shit. This is not of the good. //
~~click~~
Time itself seems to slow down, as a wall in his mind that Xander hadn't even been aware of came crashing down.
~~click~~
The junkies hand is reaching across the table.
~~click~~
Xander seems to have all the time in the world to come to a decision as to what he needs to do.
~~click~~
The little things in life that were bothering him suddenly become less important, the nagging ache at the small of his back ceases to hurt, and the three day growth of beard stops its infernal itching also the ever-present depression over his failed friendships all cease to matter at this point in time.
~~click~~
All that matters is that this… creature… this lowlife was trying to steal his things. His things that he had stolen fair and square. They were HIS things God-damnit, they were not for some low life junkie that wouldn't appreciate them. The beautiful coiled power that each of the weapons exude. The simplicity of these weapons, there was nothing hidden about them, no alternate meaning, they were there for one thing and one thing only.
~~click~~
Something inside of Xander snapped open and a voice begins to echo and reecho through his head. A voice that he feels that he should recognize. Why should he? Because after all, it is his own.
~~click~~
//Heya. Boss. How's tricks? //
~~BOOM~~
…Xander feels himself shunted to the side. His awareness still there but no longer in control. It reminded him of…
Xanders' hand flashes down to the tabletop and scooping up the fork that Sarah had dropped off earlier he stabs downward at the junkies reaching hand. The four tined metal fork slides easily through the hand with very little resistance, having missed the multitude of small bones in the hand, due more to luck then skill on Xanders' part. Continuing the downward motion of the stab Xander impales the junkies' hand to the Formica tabletop. Blood spots the yellow table top like rain. Releasing the fork, as the junkie begins to scream, Xander slides out of the booth and drawing his pistol from the concealed shoulder holster he quickly pistol whips the junkie across the jaw with the butt of the large handgun to shut him up. Turning and focusing on the shotgun wielder he begins to draw a bead on the other man as the twitchy ones' jaw shatters with a clearly audible crumple. Blood splatters across the table as the blow whips around the junkies' head and teeth fall from his mouth like a demented hail storm. He falls into the other seat at an odd angle and with a snap his wrist breaks due to the angle of his hand as it remained impaled on the table and his own downward momentum as he slumps bleeding ands unconscious to the bench.
Xander aims low as the taller of the two junkies starts to spin towards him bringing his shotgun to bear. Without a qualm of conscious thought Xander squeezes the trigger gently on the large handgun. The hammer falls, causing near two grams of packed gunpowder inside a simple brass shell to explode and then propel the .50 caliber bullet from the barrel of the gun at near 900 meters per second, bucking the pistol hard to the right and up. The bullet rockets across the room to impact in Junkie #1's upper thigh. It tears through cloth, muscle and ligament with equal ease, impacting on the left femur two inches from the hip socket and shattering it with no remorse. Tearing through the femoral artery the bullet is ricocheted up and into the body and after fracturing the pelvic bone it rips a hole through the stomach, spilling acid all over the internal organs before finally punching its way out of the body near the kidney, leaving a hole the size of a small diner plate in the mans back.
Xander watches in slow motion as the junkie falls to the floor screaming and writhing in pain before falling unconscious after only a few seconds as the expanding pool of blood leaks from his wounds, bleeding him out, killing him quickly. Holstering his Dessert Eagle Xander, still on auto-pilot, reaches down to the floor and picks up the spent shell cartridge and pockets it before reaching over and picking up his duffle bag. //Oh my god…// Grabbing a few napkins Xander then proceeds to wipe down the table that he was sitting at and the fork that is still impaling the Junkie to the table. //What have I done?// Walking to the front counter Xander reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small pocket knife. Smiling at Sarah who is still cowering behind the counter he ducks down and opening the knife digs the bullet out of the front counter with its blade. //What have I done?// Pocketing the bullet as well Xander then walks to the door and says with a brief nod to both Tony and Sarah "Have a nice night you two." //Nothing Boss, that was all me.// After cleaning the door handle Xander nods again to the two stunned diner employees and walks out the door.
Reaching his car Xander throws his duffle bag into the passenger seat and is about to climb in when a voice out of the darkness stops him. "Alexander. What a strong and powerful name. A name of champions and rulers. Do you wish to be one of those two things Alexander?"