TITLE: "The Beauty of Morning Light- 2/?"

AUTHOR: Wicked Raygun

E-MAIL: wicked_raygun@hotmail.com

RATING: Just to be safe I'm gonna say an R. But it's no worse then the other two.

SPOILERS: Up to season 5 episode "The Gift" Also it's two predecessors.

DISTRIBUTION: This story and the rest of its parts can be found at fanfiction.net or at least it could be if they weren't suffering from the plague. As for anybody else…No problem. Just let me know where it goes so I can stop by and say "Hello."

DISCLAIMOR: I refuse to believe that anyone here would be unbalanced enough to think I own this stuff in any way. But… to anyone out there who does own a piece of the Buffster and/or her friends and enemies, I mean you no harm. I'm just borrowing your toys for a while to put on a little puppet show. I promise to bring them back in near-mint condition. Even Spike.

FEEDBACK: Everyone needs a little love. It makes the world go around and writers post faster.

DEDICATION: To all of the kind souls who have been kind enough to send me feed back, especially Banquo, and Danii (a.k.a DeBrabant). Oh and Danii, I did what you recommended and took my muses or in my case demons to dinner. A great time was had by all, but I'm afraid that poor fellow at the Sizzler will never walk the same again. I would also like to thank Lori Bush who has been extremely supportive about my writing. I have to borrow a line from Xander and say, "You're my hero." I hope one day I'll be half the writer you are. A special mention to Jai L. The first BX story I ever read was "…But Not Forgotten" by you. It hooked me into BX forever after that. You deserve any and all thanks or blame for me writing today. Also, thanks for not pulling a Rayden and striking me with Lightning bolts. To the great and powerful Oz(mandayus). I told you before that you're work inspires me. I meant it. Michael. Buddy I have simply given up on trying to review everything you post. It just keeps coming… Thanks for that. Lots of non-gay type love (Not that there's anything wrong with that) goes out to Silent Bob R, who really made me feel like I have a place here when he included me in his crazy, insane BX'er fics. He also said that I could have Faith in the next story so I am very, VERY happy.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a sequel to "Nothing Short of Divine Intervention" which in turn is a sequel to "To Live is the greatest Pain" So please read them if you haven't done so already so you won't be lost. This will be a chaptered story because I have decided on an even bigger canvas. I will be switching between Third and First person views. Whenever it's in First Person you are seeing the whedonverse through the wonderful new technology known as XanderVision (Patent Pending). Also please take note that I do not write. My demons do and I will not be held responsible. You have been warned.



~~~~~~***~~~~~~



"Umm… Excuse me Miss?"


"Huh?" The woman from the motel looked up to see a man with dark hair, jeans and a plain green tee shirt staring at her. She felt embarrassed and immediately wiped away the tears from her eyes. She had always been a strong woman and she didn't need some stranger seeing her like this, at her most vulnerable.


"I said, 'Excuse me.' I heard you crying in the alleyway and wanted to see if you were alright." He paused. "Are you?"


"Oh yes, perfectly okay. What could possibly be wrong with a woman crying her eyes out in an alleyway of some stupid, red-neck, no-name town." Her tone of voice was harsh and venomous. But there was an unmistakable note of sadness and desperation that belied the tough front she tried to put up.


Not feeling particularly forgiving about the crap life had been handing him in shovels lately, Xander simply shrugged his shoulders and went for some harsh sarcasm. "I don't know. Maybe you finally realized how pathetic you're life was and thought, 'Gee… Maybe crying in an alley would attract a mugger so I could finally end it.' Listen lady, I just thought that maybe you could use some help. You don't want it… Fine. I could really care less… just one less hassle for me to deal with anyway."


The look of pain on her face made Xander regret what he said immediately. Not that he felt like apologizing.


Her face scrunched up in anger. "I glad you find my misery so amusing. But if you don't mind I'd like to be left alone."


"Fine! But if you don't mind me saying…"


The woman interrupted him, and in a mocking tone said, "Actually, I sorta do."


"Whatever." He turned around intent on leaving this ungrateful woman alone with her "misery" as she had put it. "But you should do something about your kid. He deserves better."


"My baby's a girl, Moron!" she bit out angrily.


"Yeah, yeah." He didn't even turn around again to reply. He simply left.



~~~~~~***~~~~~~



Figures. I try to help somebody and they want to be a bitch about it. My day is off to such a great start, huh?


I open the door to my car, get in and start the engine, but just as I'm about to pull out of the parking and onto the road, I make a decision.


If that lady doesn't want my help, fine. I have zero problems with leaving someone to lie in the hole of their own making… But, that little girl is going to die if her mother doesn't get any shelter. And I have one hell of a huge problem with that.


Sometimes having a conscience can be a real pain in the ass.


I put on the parking brake and get out of my car leaving the engine still running. I walk into the lobby of the motel intending to hurt that miserable Asshole, who tossed her out, very badly.


He sees me and immediately puts on the fakest smile I've ever seen. This Puke makes Snyder look like a mildly good-looking guy. Which if you've seen Snyder is quite an accomplishment.


And something tells me that his personality leaves something to be desired as well.


"How may I help you sir?" he asks me in a voice that I swear sounded like it was hissing.


If I wasn't so pissed I'm sure he'd be creeping me out by now.


I can't help the smirk that crosses my face though I desperately fought it. Oh yeah, this guy could help me alright.


"Yeah… You could tell me why there's a woman crying in your alleyway."


He looked at me strangely. "Sir, I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."


I could hear the annoyance in his voice along with something else I couldn't quite identify.


"A woman," I started off slowly, "that you threw out of here, who has a baby, is crying in your alleyway," I asserted. "I want to know why."


"Oh, Her." The words came out of his mouth as if they were poison. "She couldn't pay her room for tonight and had the audacity to ask if I could let her stay here for a few days, for free." My eyes narrowed liked the tips of daggers. "That ain't no way to run a business," he told me.


"If I recall, she said that she'd pay you back after she got a job."


"What's it to you that she stays anywhere?"


Ohhh, man. I really want to knock this guys teeth in. Hell… My hand is in a fist and I don't even remember consciously making it that way. I step closer to the little weasel in a way that I hoped screamed, "Don't. Fuck. With. Me."


Apparently he got the point because he backed up a few steps and his hands moved upward as if he wanted to protect himself from me.


Fear. That's what I sensed from his voice earlier.


"Just consider me a concerned citizen," I told him. "I happen to know that this town can be very dangerous at night and people need a place to be." He looked about to protest so I grabbed him and slammed him against the wall.


That felt pretty good, actually.


His eyes were wide open in shock. I couldn't help the laugh that escaped my lips. The look on his face was hilarious. "Here's what you're going to do." My eyes pierce his with what I hope is a pretty good impression of the 'Buffy Death Glare of Doom.' I think I nailed it because he starts to shake. He better not pee his pants or so help me… "You're going to go out into your alleyway, apologize to the nice lady for acting so crude and let her stay here until she can pay you back."


I try my best not to smile or laugh when I say this and this time I manage to succeed.


He doesn't say anything but I can see the question stamped clearly on his face. I sigh and say, "Just in case she does something underhanded like try to make a break for it. I'll come back in a week and fully pay you what she owes you… Now you're going to do what I asked you, or… Or you'll get to see just how dangerous this town can be."


My grip on his shirt tightens without me thinking about it. His mouth opens and closes a few times like a fish. I wait a few seconds before he finally says, "I'll… I'll… Call the cops."


"I don't see why. If you do what I say, then you get paid in full no matter what. But if you choose to do something stupid like call the police, I promise they won't get to you before I do." I lift his chin up with my right hand and say, "Now why don't you go tell the nice lady about your 'sudden change of heart'."


I let him go. He blinks twice and then walks to the alleyway.


I follow right behind him. I want to make sure this jerk is actually going through with it.


I see him head into the alley and I decide not to follow him any further. I was still ticked at that ladies attitude from earlier.


After getting into my car I undo the parking brake and leave a screaming baby, an unpleasant woman and a scared-to-death Motel Owner in an alleyway to sort out the rest of their own problems.


I got enough to deal with.


I grab the cell phone that I always keep charging in the cigarette lighter and dialed Buffy's house. After a very robotic voice warned me of the amount of minutes I had left and a few rings the phone is picked up and I am greeted by the younger of the Summers Sisters.


"Hey Dawn, it's Xander. I'm going to be a little late in coming back to see you guys. I got an errand to run."


After hearing her "Okay" I promise to take them out to breakfast and click a button on my cell phone to hang it up.


Me and Mr. Punching Bag need some alone time.



~~~~~~***~~~~~~



"Who was that?"


"That was Xander he said he had an errand to run so he'll be late picking us up…Oh, and he'll be buying breakfast," replied Dawn.


"Aww… food good. Slayer like food. Slayer like free food more," Buffy joked in her Cave Slayer voice.


"Slayer sound stupid when talk in third person. And…" That was all she got out before a pillow hit her from across the room.


"Don't make Cave Slayer angry."



~~~~~~***~~~~~~



I pull into the parking lot of the Magic Box and get out of my car in a hurry. As I come inside I'm greeted by Giles.


I grunt a 'hello' and immediately head to the gym in the back. He doesn't say anything else because he knows this is part of my routine.


Something upsets me and I have a long discussion with Mr. Punching Bag.


Today I plan on making this discussion rather short but I am SO going to step up the pressure today. I can just feel it in my bones.


I remove my shirt because I don't want to sweat it up so soon after having showered this morning. And then after putting on my boxing gloves, I get to it.


I start beating that bag like a red-headed step child.


You know I just realized how much I hate that expression. It implies that people should be beaten up because they're different.


My anger at something so trivial manifests itself in the form of my right-cross.


Once again I brought up every little injustice that had made me angry lately.


Every time I wake up without Anya.


Right jab.


Every time I have a nightmare about her dying.


Left jab.


The sheer mental agony of entering my own apartment.


Left jab. Right.


The crisis with Buffy and Dawn that threatens to take away the home that had represented a new start for her mother when they moved here.


Left hook. Right jab.


The sad fact that Willow can barely stay in the same room with me without making an excuse to leave because she feels so uncomfortable.


Right. Left. Right. Left hook.


The look in her eyes that clearly tells me that she's afraid of me. Not "about" me, "of" me.


Right jab. Left hook. Right cross.


That ungrateful woman back at the Sunny Dale Motel.


Right uppercut.


The slime ball who tossed her out in the first place.


Left jab. Right. Left. Left.


The fact that a piece of me actually enjoyed scaring the bejeezus out of him.


Right hook.


Once again I was letting go. This was the true cleansing of my soul. Everything else doesn't make sense in my life. But this. My fists colliding into the hard bag over and over again. This makes sense.


It's fast and unrelenting. I control the pace. I decide when it's over.


For a few moments in time I am no longer Fate's Whipping boy: the one who is undeserving of being punished and yet pays for someone else's sins.


I was not raised by mongrels: the callous, abusive, neglectful people who gave birth to me and then seemingly decided that I wasn't worth anything other then as an outlet for their own frustrations.


I am not tied to a sacrificial stone: made to suffer for someone else's glory.


I am none of those things unless I decide to be. For a few moments… I am the master of my own destiny.


My fists collide over and over again and the grunts that escape me are of the feral variety.


Then just as suddenly as I started I stopped. My breath comes in pants and I struggle to control my breathing the way Giles showed me. My head leans on the punching bag while I attempt to remove my boxing gloves. It's then I feel a hand on my shoulders.


I turn and see Giles staring at me with love and understanding.


"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks me.


I nod and tell him, "Yes. But not right now. Tonight before Patrols I promise."


He tentatively removed his hand from my shoulder and smiles. He understands that I still need time. Everything feels so new to me now.


It's these quiet moments that I treasure.



******To*Be*Continued******



Thank You. The feedback has been greatly appreciated and as I said earlier I do treasure it.


Ray Rivera, aka Wicked Raygun