Title: From Sunnydale, With Love (Chapter One)
Author: Randall Stone
Disclaimer: All characters are belong to someone else.
Summary: Meet Xander Harris. His new incredible enemies. His new
incredible adventures. The same incredible woman.
Notes:
Spoilers: S1-3
This follows _The Hellmouth is Not Enough_, so you should read
that story first.
Accent note: Assume that Xander speaks with a British accent that
tends to go in and out depending on who he's speaking
to and the subject matter. It's not super important,
and I didn't want to bog down a lot of the story
detailing it.
Category: B/X
Rating: PG-ish- nothing worse than what's on the show.
Feedback: Yes please.
*****
"What is all this?" Cordelia asked, sorting through the pile of
papers Xander had given her. "You're a spy! For England! Why
does England care about Buffy?"
"Believe it or not Cordy, but if the world gets sucked into the
Hellmouth it's not just America that will be affected."
"Well, yeah, but what are you doing-" Cordelia looked down- "with a
license to kill?"
"It's kind of a long story. I don't think we really have time for
it right now."
"Fine. But I'm getting it out of you eventually."
"OK. Now can we talk about Wolfram and Hart?"
"Oh, them. They're pure evil."
Xander blinked. "That sounds a little harsh. I mean, I know you
don't like lawyers, but-"
"She's right." Angel interrupted. "They're not just any law firm."
"I take it you've had some trouble with them before?"
"Some?" Angel laughed. "They've caused most of the trouble I've
had since I moved to LA. Half the demons in the city are either on
their payroll or on their client list."
"Serious people, then?"
"Deadly. You remember Wesley Wyndham-Price?"
"I think Willow mentioned him in one of her letters." Xander
searched his memory. "A watcher, right?"
"Ex-watcher. He screwed up pretty badly down in Sunnydale last year.
But he'd turned over a new leaf, and he was working with us.
Translations, research, that sort of thing. About a week ago-" Angel
unconsciously clenched his fist. "He was found dead in an alley.
Vampire attack. The vamp who did it used to work for Wolfram and
Hart."
"Used to? You got ahold of him then?"
"Yeah." Angel gave him a predatory grin. "Vampires are going to
think twice before killing one of my employees again."
"Well, good." Xander cleared his throat. That smile had been
uncomfortably close to the Angelus that he remembered from two years
before. Putting his fears out of his mind, Xander continued.
"You guys know about this magic scroll, right?"
"The Scroll of Aberjian." Doyle spoke up from the couch. "I saw
it."
"You saw it?"
"Oh yeah, you guys don't know each other." Cordelia interjected.
"Xander, this is Doyle. He has a drinking and gambling problem, and
he inherited your old dress sense. He also gets visions from the
Powers That Be."
"Visions?"
"Damsels in distress, evil demons, things like that." Cordelia
explained. "Doyle, this is Xander. He's... Xander."
"Right." Doyle looked a little bemused. "So, anyways, they sent
me a vision yesterday about the Scroll. It's is in one of Wolfram
and Hart's vaults under their office building. Along with the rest
of their security, this vault in particular is guarded by a
Prego-something demon."
"Preggothian." Angel corrected.
"A what?" Xander asked.
Angel walked over to the desk and fished a piece of paper out of
the clutter. He showed it to Xander. The drawing on the paper
showed a demon that was mostly fangs and muscle.
"I see. This is going to take some planning, isn't it?" Xander
seemed to deflate after he spoke as his fatigue suddenly became
visible on his face.
There was a short pause after Xander's words. Cordelia broke the
silence.
"Hey, if you're with the government now, can't we call the FBI down
on them and go in with some overwhelming force?"
"For what? Hostile spellcasting?" Xander shook his head. "The
American agencies are just starting to figure out vampires- none of
them have really come around on the whole occult thing. MI-6 is only
so enlightened because of some nasty business back in the seventies.
The FBI knows enough about Wolfram and Hart that they'll turn a blind
eye to whatever we do, but they're not about to help us out."
"So we're it then?"
"Afraid so." Xander yawned. "Look, I've had a really long day, and
we're not going to be able to do anything tonight, so I'm going to
go back to my hotel room and crash."
"OK, but I want to see you first thing in the morning tomorrow. We
have a lot of catching up to do."
Xander smiled at her. "Sure."
With that, Xander turned and left Angel Investigations. Cordelia
took advantage of the opportunity for some quality gawking.
"Well, that was something." Doyle remarked.
"He's changed a lot." Angel observed.
"Yeah," Cordelia murmured, then shook herself out of her reverie
before speaking again.
"Angel, why don't you have a license to kill?"
---
Xander was staying in a Holiday Inn whose chief virtue was of being
close to the Angel Investigations office. Still, he thought to
himself as he shouldered the duffel bag that he had left in Angel's
waiting room, "close" in LA still meant a good fifteen minute walk.
Xander decided to go ahead and walk back, rather than wait for a
taxi. He figured that the night air would help clear his head,
which was a whirling mass of confusion after all that had transpired
in the last day.
When he was about a block from the hotel, Xander thought he heard a
noise from behind him. He spun around and looked up and down the
street. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he chalked it up to
paranoia and continued on to his hotel.
His last thought as his head hit the pillow before sleep claimed him
was of Buffy.
---
Back in an alley a block from Xander's hotel, a Kralich demon was
flopping around in a pool of its own blood. Its mouth was moving,
but no sound was coming out. This was due to the same gaping neck
wound that was the source of the blood on the street.
Spike stood a few feet back from the demon, watching it.
"Tricky bugger, aren't you? Trying to sneak up on the human and
pick up a late night snack, eh?" Spike lit his cigarette and took a
puff. "Never thought anybody would be sneaking up on you."
Spike sighed. "Hell, you were easier to kill than that English
wanker last week. Didn't anybody ever tell you it's dangerous to be
out on the streets at night?"
The demon was of course unable to respond, though it seemed to be
trying to say something. Spike watched dispassionately as its
struggles gradually weakened and stopped. When the demon finally
died, its body dissolved into a yellow goo.
"There, now that Droopy's home safe, time to go check up on the
Poof."
With that, Spike threw the fag end of his cigarette into the demon's
earthly remains and strode out of the alley back towards Angel's
office.
* * *
This chapter's a little light because I write from stopping point to
stopping point, rather than trying to match up in size. The next
one should be pretty hefty, so I hope that makes it up to y'all.
--Randy
Author: Randall Stone
Disclaimer: All characters are belong to someone else.
Summary: Meet Xander Harris. His new incredible enemies. His new
incredible adventures. The same incredible woman.
Notes:
Spoilers: S1-3
This follows _The Hellmouth is Not Enough_, so you should read
that story first.
Accent note: Assume that Xander speaks with a British accent that
tends to go in and out depending on who he's speaking
to and the subject matter. It's not super important,
and I didn't want to bog down a lot of the story
detailing it.
Category: B/X
Rating: PG-ish- nothing worse than what's on the show.
Feedback: Yes please.
*****
"What is all this?" Cordelia asked, sorting through the pile of
papers Xander had given her. "You're a spy! For England! Why
does England care about Buffy?"
"Believe it or not Cordy, but if the world gets sucked into the
Hellmouth it's not just America that will be affected."
"Well, yeah, but what are you doing-" Cordelia looked down- "with a
license to kill?"
"It's kind of a long story. I don't think we really have time for
it right now."
"Fine. But I'm getting it out of you eventually."
"OK. Now can we talk about Wolfram and Hart?"
"Oh, them. They're pure evil."
Xander blinked. "That sounds a little harsh. I mean, I know you
don't like lawyers, but-"
"She's right." Angel interrupted. "They're not just any law firm."
"I take it you've had some trouble with them before?"
"Some?" Angel laughed. "They've caused most of the trouble I've
had since I moved to LA. Half the demons in the city are either on
their payroll or on their client list."
"Serious people, then?"
"Deadly. You remember Wesley Wyndham-Price?"
"I think Willow mentioned him in one of her letters." Xander
searched his memory. "A watcher, right?"
"Ex-watcher. He screwed up pretty badly down in Sunnydale last year.
But he'd turned over a new leaf, and he was working with us.
Translations, research, that sort of thing. About a week ago-" Angel
unconsciously clenched his fist. "He was found dead in an alley.
Vampire attack. The vamp who did it used to work for Wolfram and
Hart."
"Used to? You got ahold of him then?"
"Yeah." Angel gave him a predatory grin. "Vampires are going to
think twice before killing one of my employees again."
"Well, good." Xander cleared his throat. That smile had been
uncomfortably close to the Angelus that he remembered from two years
before. Putting his fears out of his mind, Xander continued.
"You guys know about this magic scroll, right?"
"The Scroll of Aberjian." Doyle spoke up from the couch. "I saw
it."
"You saw it?"
"Oh yeah, you guys don't know each other." Cordelia interjected.
"Xander, this is Doyle. He has a drinking and gambling problem, and
he inherited your old dress sense. He also gets visions from the
Powers That Be."
"Visions?"
"Damsels in distress, evil demons, things like that." Cordelia
explained. "Doyle, this is Xander. He's... Xander."
"Right." Doyle looked a little bemused. "So, anyways, they sent
me a vision yesterday about the Scroll. It's is in one of Wolfram
and Hart's vaults under their office building. Along with the rest
of their security, this vault in particular is guarded by a
Prego-something demon."
"Preggothian." Angel corrected.
"A what?" Xander asked.
Angel walked over to the desk and fished a piece of paper out of
the clutter. He showed it to Xander. The drawing on the paper
showed a demon that was mostly fangs and muscle.
"I see. This is going to take some planning, isn't it?" Xander
seemed to deflate after he spoke as his fatigue suddenly became
visible on his face.
There was a short pause after Xander's words. Cordelia broke the
silence.
"Hey, if you're with the government now, can't we call the FBI down
on them and go in with some overwhelming force?"
"For what? Hostile spellcasting?" Xander shook his head. "The
American agencies are just starting to figure out vampires- none of
them have really come around on the whole occult thing. MI-6 is only
so enlightened because of some nasty business back in the seventies.
The FBI knows enough about Wolfram and Hart that they'll turn a blind
eye to whatever we do, but they're not about to help us out."
"So we're it then?"
"Afraid so." Xander yawned. "Look, I've had a really long day, and
we're not going to be able to do anything tonight, so I'm going to
go back to my hotel room and crash."
"OK, but I want to see you first thing in the morning tomorrow. We
have a lot of catching up to do."
Xander smiled at her. "Sure."
With that, Xander turned and left Angel Investigations. Cordelia
took advantage of the opportunity for some quality gawking.
"Well, that was something." Doyle remarked.
"He's changed a lot." Angel observed.
"Yeah," Cordelia murmured, then shook herself out of her reverie
before speaking again.
"Angel, why don't you have a license to kill?"
---
Xander was staying in a Holiday Inn whose chief virtue was of being
close to the Angel Investigations office. Still, he thought to
himself as he shouldered the duffel bag that he had left in Angel's
waiting room, "close" in LA still meant a good fifteen minute walk.
Xander decided to go ahead and walk back, rather than wait for a
taxi. He figured that the night air would help clear his head,
which was a whirling mass of confusion after all that had transpired
in the last day.
When he was about a block from the hotel, Xander thought he heard a
noise from behind him. He spun around and looked up and down the
street. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he chalked it up to
paranoia and continued on to his hotel.
His last thought as his head hit the pillow before sleep claimed him
was of Buffy.
---
Back in an alley a block from Xander's hotel, a Kralich demon was
flopping around in a pool of its own blood. Its mouth was moving,
but no sound was coming out. This was due to the same gaping neck
wound that was the source of the blood on the street.
Spike stood a few feet back from the demon, watching it.
"Tricky bugger, aren't you? Trying to sneak up on the human and
pick up a late night snack, eh?" Spike lit his cigarette and took a
puff. "Never thought anybody would be sneaking up on you."
Spike sighed. "Hell, you were easier to kill than that English
wanker last week. Didn't anybody ever tell you it's dangerous to be
out on the streets at night?"
The demon was of course unable to respond, though it seemed to be
trying to say something. Spike watched dispassionately as its
struggles gradually weakened and stopped. When the demon finally
died, its body dissolved into a yellow goo.
"There, now that Droopy's home safe, time to go check up on the
Poof."
With that, Spike threw the fag end of his cigarette into the demon's
earthly remains and strode out of the alley back towards Angel's
office.
* * *
This chapter's a little light because I write from stopping point to
stopping point, rather than trying to match up in size. The next
one should be pretty hefty, so I hope that makes it up to y'all.
--Randy