Title: The Observer
Author: Jane McCartney
Feedback: Don't make me beg for it. Oh hell, whatever: pleeeease? Pretty please? It'll just take a sec from ya! I really wanna know what you think about this particular fic.
Acknowledgments: Every beloved reviewer, and my beloved Theo. My fics are practically his work too. But probably not half as good as his own fics.
Author's note: This fic takes the movie "The Watcher", the one with James Spader and Keanu Reeves, as a reference - but you don't need to have watched the movie in order to follow this fic. It's probably better if you don't watch it after all, because you'll have more surprises that way.
Summary: As his health decreases and every trace of the man he used to be seems to be just a shade of an abandoned life, Xander finds out that he has to deal once again with the pain and quarrel of his past. B/A crossover.
***
"Detective William Sheppard, LAPD Homicide; yeah, I'd like to talk to Special Agent Anthony Phillips, Violent Crimes. Yes, it's important. No, I can't wait! Listen to me, dummy, just put Phillips on the damn phone right now!"
"Stuffy assholes," the detective mumbled in Xander's direction as his momentary silence seemed to indicate victory in the telephone war, and the former carpenter knew Anthony Phillips would probably pick up the phone soon.
Hearing only slightly the conversation, a part of Xander's mind was still oblivious to the real world.
~ Flashback ~
The teenage Xander Harris walked away from a hostile Jack O'Toole, grabbing the football and tossing it back to the boys named Doug and Les as he passed Cordelia Chase.
"Boy, of all the humiliations you've had I've witnessed, that was the latest," Queen C commented, with an expression of amusement.
"I coulda taken him," the dark-haired teen tried to win his ex-girlfriend over with regards to his ability to fight Jack O'Toole.
Cordelia didn't seem persuaded at all. "Oh, please. O'Toole would macramé your face. He is a psycho. Which is still a lot cooler than being a wuss..."
"Why is it that I've come face-to-face with vampires, demons, the most hideous creatures Hell ever spit out, and I'm still afraid of a little bully like Jack O'Toole?" Xander wondered out loud.
"Because, unlike all those creatures that you've come face-to-face with, Jack actually noticed you were there," the brunette girl sneered.
The boy glanced at her. "Why am I not surprised by how comforting you're not?"
Cordelia ignored him. "It must be really hard when all your friends have, like, superpowers - Slayer, werewolf, witches, vampires - and you're, like, this little nothing. You must feel like Jimmy Olsen."
"I was just talking to-" Xander began laughingly, but whined as the meaning of her words hit him. "Hey! Mind your own business!"
The brunette smirked in triumph. "Ohh, I struck a nerve. The Boy Who Had No Cool."
"I happen to be an integral part of that group. I happen to have a lot to offer," the dark-haired youth replied, with a hint of hurt in his voice.
"Oh, please," Queen C scoffed, unconvinced.
"I do!" the boy hurriedly defended himself.
"Integral part of the group? Xander. You're the, the useless part of the group. You're the Zeppo," Cordy pondered.
Xander wished he had a comeback to that one, but none came to mind.
"Cool. Look it up. It's something," the brunette teen said, indicating Jack, "that a subliterate that's repeated twelfth grade three times has, and you don't."
Cordelia turned on her heel, saying to herself as her former boyfriend receded in the distance, "There was no part of that that wasn't fun."
Left behind, Xander stood there for a moment, looking pretty glum.
~ End of Flashback ~
"Phillips is flying here tonight," Sheppard's voice once again made Xander come back to reality.
"We still have to decide if we'll let the press in on this one yet, but until then, I don't think I need to tell you to keep your mouth shut," the gray-haired detective advised him sharply.
Xander, seemingly not intimidated by his attitude or tone of voice, just nodded slowly.
Turning to walk out, the former Slayerette heard the older man's curious voice call to him one more time, "So, what are you gonna do now, Harris? I mean, with the guy back in town and all..."
Xander just left the room and closed the door, ignoring the detective 's question.
Outside Detective William Sheppard's office, the department was noisy and tumultuous. Several bluesuits or lamely dressed, investigator-like men walked throughout the precinct with busy expressions, forming the typical ambience found in every big city's police station.
A young woman who couldn't be a day older than twenty-five accidentally bumped against him, muttering a "Sorry," with an apologetic smile and leaving.
Kathryn Parker, a young, recently-graduated cop, was about five and a half feet tall and owner of a petite yet well-shaped body. Her hair was medium- sized, slightly curled and of a blonde coloration.
And she automatically reminded Xander of a certain girl that had once been one of the two most important persons in his life, along with his red- haired best childhood friend.
~ Flashback ~
The pre-dawn light was gradually sweeping away genuine blackness from the sky, creating a more neutral color, painted with hints of gray and blue.
The Special Agent's car started its animalistic roar and fled along Sunnydale's still asleep streets; Jennifer Gallagher's investigation would only return in a few hours ahead to them. With an FBI team arriving at the latest victim's apartment, they finally called it a night.
Buffy and Xander were walking side by side along Sunnydale's Main Street, which was now being lightened by the first glimpses of sun. The Slayer glanced sideways at her dark-haired friend, sensing the silent tension eating him up from the inside.
"A penny for your thoughts," the Slayer suddenly broke the wordless walk, eyeing the man by her side.
"Are my thoughts that cheap to you, Buff?" Xander joked, but he still seemed distracted somehow - a twinge of excitement and disquiet, as if something really was eating him up inside.
"Not with the jobless Buffy outlook," the petite girl snorted with a sarcastic grin.
"Doesn't the jobless Buffy have a very important interview tomorrow?" Xander asked, eyeing his shorter friend with a hint of worry.
"She has," Buffy admitted, but sighed. "But I'm not sure she's prepared. I think she's more like utterly terrified by a mortifying fear of not being able to cover the next mortgage installment."
"So she'll eat a fortifying breakfast, which is the most vital meal of the day, and impress her future Big Boss!" Xander encouraged.
"When did you start going all Brady Bunch on me?" a pessimistic-looking Buffy teased.
"Ah, cheer up, Buffster! I'm just feeling it's time that a lot of dead presidents are gonna invade la casa de Summers," the man tried to brighten up the Slayer, who groaned with mocking exasperation.
"I guess the whole Chosen One thingy and well-paying jobs really aren't like a match made in heaven," Buffy said gloomily.
"Things will get better, Buffy. They really will," Xander said, more seriously now.
"I guess so," the petite Slayer nodded, with a small but heartfelt smile. "Which bring us back to the penny thing," she added, gazing at the construction worker pointedly.
"And here I was thinking I'd made you forget about that," the current FBI collaborator admitted.
Buffy nodded. "Nice try, but shoot."
The carpenter sighed, and spoke after a few seconds of musing silence, "OK, first of all, and just for the record - this guy creeps me out, and I mean big time. And this directly from a resident of the Hellmouth, who has seen and been beaten up by a lot of evil creatures..."
Xander continued, the sarcasm obvious, "I don't know why the heck this super-famous psycho nutsack decided it was fun engineering his bloodbaths and picking me as his Buddy Boy, in what I truly hope isn't prison language..."
"But aside from all that?" Buffy inquired gently.
Xander sighed again. "I guess it's that Super Agent Tony Boy has come into the picture and put me on his team... and not just 'cause this loony psycho has a fix on me, but because I have, and I quote, "a natural instinct for this sort of thing". I mean, who'd a-thunk it? Xander 'the Zeppo' Harris? The eternal powerless klutz, as an official FBI collaborator? That's probably the biggest thing in life I'll ever amount to..."
"I didn't know you still had those feelings," Buffy said, seeming a little ashamed by the meaning of her statement. "I mean you saved the world not that long ago, remember? That's pretty big."
"I've screwed up more than I've ever done right," Xander retorted, attempting a mocking voice. "It's statistics, really. Y'know, math - that class we mostly slept through in high school? If you try ten times, you'll almost certainly succeed once. It's a question of probability; no big, and still makes me Mojoless Boy."
More seriously, Xander added, "I don't know, Buff. I can't help thinking Willow was just too tired then. To fight what Giles had goosed her with anymore, I mean. It was just a case of being at the right place, at the right time."
"But that's what heroes do - be there. The right time and place thing," Buffy rationalized stubbornly. "And it wasn't just once - it's been a lot more times. You've been there for the world a lot more than you give yourself credit for . Like, ever since the beginning, when I first came to town. And you still are. Here."
She persisted in her heartfelt speech, "Every time I need you, you're there. And every time I say I don't need you but I do, you're there. And every time I think I don't need you but I do, you're there too."
Xander stopped walking suddenly, and Buffy did too. He glanced at her.
"Thanks," the carpenter said truthfully, smiling.
"You're welcome," the blond-haired Slayer smiled too, and made with one of her perky grins. "Wanna do the touchy-feely hug thing?"
"Would I ever say no to this kind of request from the Buffster?" Xander joked, and hugged his long-time friend in a heartfelt embrace.
~ End of Flashback ~
The memories died in his mind as quickly and suddenly as they had come, and Xander Harris left the police building and headed home.
The telephone was ringing when he entered his apartment. And when the dark- haired guy picked up, the sinister voice on the other end of the line greeted him with a cold, dispassionate voice.
"Hello, pal. We finally meet again..."
***
Author's note: just a few things I think I should comment - this is not gonna end like the movie ended, and things will start to become clearer soon, I promiss! I'm not using the old material (Like O'Toole's scene) for no reason.
OK, keep the reviews coming, pretty please... I really, really wanna know your opinions - flames (gulp), ego-widening messages, all of it, folks!
Author: Jane McCartney
Feedback: Don't make me beg for it. Oh hell, whatever: pleeeease? Pretty please? It'll just take a sec from ya! I really wanna know what you think about this particular fic.
Acknowledgments: Every beloved reviewer, and my beloved Theo. My fics are practically his work too. But probably not half as good as his own fics.
Author's note: This fic takes the movie "The Watcher", the one with James Spader and Keanu Reeves, as a reference - but you don't need to have watched the movie in order to follow this fic. It's probably better if you don't watch it after all, because you'll have more surprises that way.
Summary: As his health decreases and every trace of the man he used to be seems to be just a shade of an abandoned life, Xander finds out that he has to deal once again with the pain and quarrel of his past. B/A crossover.
***
"Detective William Sheppard, LAPD Homicide; yeah, I'd like to talk to Special Agent Anthony Phillips, Violent Crimes. Yes, it's important. No, I can't wait! Listen to me, dummy, just put Phillips on the damn phone right now!"
"Stuffy assholes," the detective mumbled in Xander's direction as his momentary silence seemed to indicate victory in the telephone war, and the former carpenter knew Anthony Phillips would probably pick up the phone soon.
Hearing only slightly the conversation, a part of Xander's mind was still oblivious to the real world.
~ Flashback ~
The teenage Xander Harris walked away from a hostile Jack O'Toole, grabbing the football and tossing it back to the boys named Doug and Les as he passed Cordelia Chase.
"Boy, of all the humiliations you've had I've witnessed, that was the latest," Queen C commented, with an expression of amusement.
"I coulda taken him," the dark-haired teen tried to win his ex-girlfriend over with regards to his ability to fight Jack O'Toole.
Cordelia didn't seem persuaded at all. "Oh, please. O'Toole would macramé your face. He is a psycho. Which is still a lot cooler than being a wuss..."
"Why is it that I've come face-to-face with vampires, demons, the most hideous creatures Hell ever spit out, and I'm still afraid of a little bully like Jack O'Toole?" Xander wondered out loud.
"Because, unlike all those creatures that you've come face-to-face with, Jack actually noticed you were there," the brunette girl sneered.
The boy glanced at her. "Why am I not surprised by how comforting you're not?"
Cordelia ignored him. "It must be really hard when all your friends have, like, superpowers - Slayer, werewolf, witches, vampires - and you're, like, this little nothing. You must feel like Jimmy Olsen."
"I was just talking to-" Xander began laughingly, but whined as the meaning of her words hit him. "Hey! Mind your own business!"
The brunette smirked in triumph. "Ohh, I struck a nerve. The Boy Who Had No Cool."
"I happen to be an integral part of that group. I happen to have a lot to offer," the dark-haired youth replied, with a hint of hurt in his voice.
"Oh, please," Queen C scoffed, unconvinced.
"I do!" the boy hurriedly defended himself.
"Integral part of the group? Xander. You're the, the useless part of the group. You're the Zeppo," Cordy pondered.
Xander wished he had a comeback to that one, but none came to mind.
"Cool. Look it up. It's something," the brunette teen said, indicating Jack, "that a subliterate that's repeated twelfth grade three times has, and you don't."
Cordelia turned on her heel, saying to herself as her former boyfriend receded in the distance, "There was no part of that that wasn't fun."
Left behind, Xander stood there for a moment, looking pretty glum.
~ End of Flashback ~
"Phillips is flying here tonight," Sheppard's voice once again made Xander come back to reality.
"We still have to decide if we'll let the press in on this one yet, but until then, I don't think I need to tell you to keep your mouth shut," the gray-haired detective advised him sharply.
Xander, seemingly not intimidated by his attitude or tone of voice, just nodded slowly.
Turning to walk out, the former Slayerette heard the older man's curious voice call to him one more time, "So, what are you gonna do now, Harris? I mean, with the guy back in town and all..."
Xander just left the room and closed the door, ignoring the detective 's question.
Outside Detective William Sheppard's office, the department was noisy and tumultuous. Several bluesuits or lamely dressed, investigator-like men walked throughout the precinct with busy expressions, forming the typical ambience found in every big city's police station.
A young woman who couldn't be a day older than twenty-five accidentally bumped against him, muttering a "Sorry," with an apologetic smile and leaving.
Kathryn Parker, a young, recently-graduated cop, was about five and a half feet tall and owner of a petite yet well-shaped body. Her hair was medium- sized, slightly curled and of a blonde coloration.
And she automatically reminded Xander of a certain girl that had once been one of the two most important persons in his life, along with his red- haired best childhood friend.
~ Flashback ~
The pre-dawn light was gradually sweeping away genuine blackness from the sky, creating a more neutral color, painted with hints of gray and blue.
The Special Agent's car started its animalistic roar and fled along Sunnydale's still asleep streets; Jennifer Gallagher's investigation would only return in a few hours ahead to them. With an FBI team arriving at the latest victim's apartment, they finally called it a night.
Buffy and Xander were walking side by side along Sunnydale's Main Street, which was now being lightened by the first glimpses of sun. The Slayer glanced sideways at her dark-haired friend, sensing the silent tension eating him up from the inside.
"A penny for your thoughts," the Slayer suddenly broke the wordless walk, eyeing the man by her side.
"Are my thoughts that cheap to you, Buff?" Xander joked, but he still seemed distracted somehow - a twinge of excitement and disquiet, as if something really was eating him up inside.
"Not with the jobless Buffy outlook," the petite girl snorted with a sarcastic grin.
"Doesn't the jobless Buffy have a very important interview tomorrow?" Xander asked, eyeing his shorter friend with a hint of worry.
"She has," Buffy admitted, but sighed. "But I'm not sure she's prepared. I think she's more like utterly terrified by a mortifying fear of not being able to cover the next mortgage installment."
"So she'll eat a fortifying breakfast, which is the most vital meal of the day, and impress her future Big Boss!" Xander encouraged.
"When did you start going all Brady Bunch on me?" a pessimistic-looking Buffy teased.
"Ah, cheer up, Buffster! I'm just feeling it's time that a lot of dead presidents are gonna invade la casa de Summers," the man tried to brighten up the Slayer, who groaned with mocking exasperation.
"I guess the whole Chosen One thingy and well-paying jobs really aren't like a match made in heaven," Buffy said gloomily.
"Things will get better, Buffy. They really will," Xander said, more seriously now.
"I guess so," the petite Slayer nodded, with a small but heartfelt smile. "Which bring us back to the penny thing," she added, gazing at the construction worker pointedly.
"And here I was thinking I'd made you forget about that," the current FBI collaborator admitted.
Buffy nodded. "Nice try, but shoot."
The carpenter sighed, and spoke after a few seconds of musing silence, "OK, first of all, and just for the record - this guy creeps me out, and I mean big time. And this directly from a resident of the Hellmouth, who has seen and been beaten up by a lot of evil creatures..."
Xander continued, the sarcasm obvious, "I don't know why the heck this super-famous psycho nutsack decided it was fun engineering his bloodbaths and picking me as his Buddy Boy, in what I truly hope isn't prison language..."
"But aside from all that?" Buffy inquired gently.
Xander sighed again. "I guess it's that Super Agent Tony Boy has come into the picture and put me on his team... and not just 'cause this loony psycho has a fix on me, but because I have, and I quote, "a natural instinct for this sort of thing". I mean, who'd a-thunk it? Xander 'the Zeppo' Harris? The eternal powerless klutz, as an official FBI collaborator? That's probably the biggest thing in life I'll ever amount to..."
"I didn't know you still had those feelings," Buffy said, seeming a little ashamed by the meaning of her statement. "I mean you saved the world not that long ago, remember? That's pretty big."
"I've screwed up more than I've ever done right," Xander retorted, attempting a mocking voice. "It's statistics, really. Y'know, math - that class we mostly slept through in high school? If you try ten times, you'll almost certainly succeed once. It's a question of probability; no big, and still makes me Mojoless Boy."
More seriously, Xander added, "I don't know, Buff. I can't help thinking Willow was just too tired then. To fight what Giles had goosed her with anymore, I mean. It was just a case of being at the right place, at the right time."
"But that's what heroes do - be there. The right time and place thing," Buffy rationalized stubbornly. "And it wasn't just once - it's been a lot more times. You've been there for the world a lot more than you give yourself credit for . Like, ever since the beginning, when I first came to town. And you still are. Here."
She persisted in her heartfelt speech, "Every time I need you, you're there. And every time I say I don't need you but I do, you're there. And every time I think I don't need you but I do, you're there too."
Xander stopped walking suddenly, and Buffy did too. He glanced at her.
"Thanks," the carpenter said truthfully, smiling.
"You're welcome," the blond-haired Slayer smiled too, and made with one of her perky grins. "Wanna do the touchy-feely hug thing?"
"Would I ever say no to this kind of request from the Buffster?" Xander joked, and hugged his long-time friend in a heartfelt embrace.
~ End of Flashback ~
The memories died in his mind as quickly and suddenly as they had come, and Xander Harris left the police building and headed home.
The telephone was ringing when he entered his apartment. And when the dark- haired guy picked up, the sinister voice on the other end of the line greeted him with a cold, dispassionate voice.
"Hello, pal. We finally meet again..."
***
Author's note: just a few things I think I should comment - this is not gonna end like the movie ended, and things will start to become clearer soon, I promiss! I'm not using the old material (Like O'Toole's scene) for no reason.
OK, keep the reviews coming, pretty please... I really, really wanna know your opinions - flames (gulp), ego-widening messages, all of it, folks!