Title: Empty Boxes

Series: Destiny Found, part 3

Affiliated Series: Destiny Lost

Authors: Sonya and Erin

E-mail: sonyajeb@swbell.net OR carynsilver@yahoo.com

Rating: PG

Category: B/X, Xander angst, X/G friendship, AU, relationship oriented

*Disclaimers and Timeline Info in Part 1!!!!*

----------------

"Mr. Harris, you've got mail down in the office."

Alexander "Xander" Harris closed his book with a bang and walked over to the intercom next to the door of his dorm room. Depressing the appropriate button, he said, "I'll be right down."

Then he hurried out the door and down the stairs. When he reached the main office on the first floor of the Watchers' Council Training Academy, he saw three big boxes and a small one in the middle of the floor.

"You said there was mail for me?"

The slender man behind the desk gave him an annoyed look and gestured to the boxes on the floor.

Xander's eyes opened wide. "All of them?"

"Yes," the man -- Colin Post, nephew of Proconsul Gwendolyn Post, recent graduate of the training program and personal secretary to Training Master Rupert Giles -- repeated. "They came special delivery from the States."

"Wow!" Xander's face lit up with a smile. Then he frowned, wondering how on Earth he was going to get them all up to his room.

"There's a dolly in the closet," Colin informed Xander. "You can check it out if you want."

Xander nodded. Colin pulled a tablet out of his desk and gave it to Xander. Xander signed his name, and wrote down the date, the time and the item he was borrowing. Then he found the dolly in the closet and stacked the boxes on it.

"Someone back home must really care about you," Colin remarked off-handedly. "It costs a small fortune to send that much stuff over here."

"I guess so," Xander agreed. Then he turned and began pushing the dolly back to his room. He tossed a "thanks" over his shoulder as the door swung shut. He thought about going back in and saying hello to Giles, as long as he was down here, but Xander was more eager to open the boxes.

It took a lot of muscle and sweat, but Xander got the dolly and all four boxes up to the second floor. On the way he alternated between dodging annoyed looks as his fellow students tried to get past him on the stairs, wishing the building had an elevator and being thankful that he didn't live on the fifth or sixth floors.

"Harris!" a blond young man with glasses and a ponytail called as Xander opened the door to his room. "Looks like you hit the proverbial jackpot, eh?"

"Something like that," Xander grunted in response. Then he stopped and looked at the other boy. "Instead of standing there staring, Ed, why don't you come open the door for me?"

Edward Weathersby IV grinned good-naturedly and held the door open until Xander got the dolly across the threshold. Edward was Xander's next door neighbor, and one of his few friends at the Academy.

"I've told you repeatedly not to call me 'Ed.' It's undignified."

"Whatever," Xander agreed, then he grinned at Edward. "Looks like my parents decided they love me after all."

"That's all from your parents?" Edward asked, his eyes widening behind the wire-rimmed glasses. "Good lord!"

"All except this one." Xander took the small box off the top and set it carefully on his desk.

Edward gave him a knowing smirk. "I'll bet that one is a care package from the lovely Buffy Summers."

"You'd win that bet," Xander answered, unable to keep the smile off of his face. "How did you guess? Been given some psychic demon powers lately?"

Edward laughed at the sheer inappropriateness of his neighbor's joke. "That's why you get off on the wrong foot sometimes, Harris. You always rush in where angels fear to tread. Some of the Watcher-bred are quite sensitive about the recent goings on."

"Goings on?" Xander raised an eyebrow. "The man in the highest and most powerful position in the entire Council was changed into a vampire. Then he began all kinds of evil experiments on innocent humans, and no one noticed for over a year. No wonder they're sensitive!"

"All that outspoken behavior is what gets you into trouble," Edward replied with a shake of his head.

Xander looked at his friend seriously. "It's all this quiet reserve and dignified politeness that allowed so much to go wrong. At least in my opinion." Xander stopped himself from continuing. He'd rehashed this point of view many times in the few weeks he had been at the Academy, and few people understood, let alone shared, it with him. "But, really, Ed, how did you know Buffy sent something?"

Edward looked around Xander's room. It held the usual furniture -- a bed, a desk and chair, bookshelves, a chest of drawers and a small, versatile table -- but Xander had personalized it in his own way. He'd hung a huge bulletin board over his desk, and pinned on it pictures from home. Xander had told Edward all about the pictures, and his friends and favorite places back in Sunnydale, California, but pictures of the beautiful blonde, Buffy Summers, Xander's girlfriend, were by far the dominant theme in the sparse decorating scheme.

Tapping the framed picture of Buffy and Xander that sat next to Xander's bed, Edward said, "Just call it a wild guess." Then the blond Watcher-in-training turned and headed for the door. "Well, I'm off. I've got hand-to-hand combat training in a half hour." He paused, and then added, "I'm going into town with some of the fellows tonight. Want to come?"

Xander shrugged. Edward's friends were a nice sort -- some of the nicest at the Academy, actually -- but he didn't have a lot in common with them. "Maybe."

"You should come," Edward urged. "You need to get out more."

"I'll come," Xander agreed, "if I get my homework done."

"What are you trying to do?" Edward asked. "Make first scholar before the end of your first month?"

"I'm just trying to get it done quickly," Xander replied. His goal was to get done with the book training as fast as possible. Then he could train on location in Sunnydale, possibly under Active Watcher Aidan O'Shea. Giles was helping Xander. He'd planned a special academic track for the boy and helped him in other ways, as well. However, a lot of it depended on how much work Xander could do and how quickly he could do it.

"We're leaving at seven, if you want to come," Edward said, and then left Xander alone with his boxes.

Xander glanced at the books on his desk. He had tons of homework due the next day. He was straining himself academically here more than he'd ever thought possible. Back in regular high school, Xander had mostly been a goof off. But here he was a 24-hour study machine. He even took special classes on the weekends. And the amazing part was that Xander was doing OK. He wasn't ever going to be first scholar, but he was definitely holding his own. And he had yet to turn anything an instructor deemed "unsatisfactory," which had been the rule of thumb at Sunnydale High.

"I deserve a quick break, don't I?" Xander asked himself. He avoided looking at himself in the mirror. He knew he looked pale and hand circles under his eyes. He nodded to himself instead. "You do. And seeing what people sent you will be just the ticket."

He grabbed his knife and began opening the box from Buffy when a thought popped into his mind. Did talking to himself mean that he was insane? That gave him pause, then he pushed the thought away. "Nah. You're only insane if you answer yourself."

That settled, he ripped the brown paper off the box from Buffy and used the knife to slit the tape that held the flaps together. When he looked inside, he smiled. There were several pictures of Buffy and the others hanging around Aidan's new bookstore, Booksellers. Xander could barely imagine not having a Watcher at the high school, but then, he could hardly picture a Sunnydale without Giles as Watcher, even while Giles was in England with him.

Xander set the pictures on the desk to show Giles later, and looked in the box again. There was a bag full of junk food. Xander let out a thrilled whoop when he opened it to find all of his favorites, most of which were in short supply at the health-conscious Academy.

"Yum, Twinkies!" He picked up the framed picture next to his bed and gave Buffy's image a kiss. "You are a goddess!"

The last thing in the box was a card. Xander opened it and smiled softly when he saw Buffy's loopy handwriting.

"Dear Xander,

Just a few things to show you that I'm thinking about you. I hope you enjoy them. Things are OK here, though I'm sure you know that more than I do while I'm writing this, since it will take the package weeks to get there and we email every day.

As always, I love you and I miss you.

Yours forever,

Buffy

P.S. I started dropping hints to Mom about taking a trip to England this summer. She doesn't seem entirely unagreeable, but there are money issues. ---- BAS"

Xander took the note and pinned it to his bulletin board, or as Edward liked to call it, The Shrine to Sunnydale and Buffy Summers. But Xander didn't mind that kind of teasing. His home, and his girlfriend, were important to him, and he wasn't afraid to let anyone know that.

Just then, his watch alarm beeped. Xander pulled up his sleeve to look at the watch, and realized he would have to run to get to his languages tutorial on time. The rest of the boxes would have to wait until later. He took one quick glance in the mirror to make sure his dark hair wasn't too unruly and that his dress shirt and slacks (the Watchers never seemed to dress casual, not even the students -- Xander was just glad that he didn't have to wear tweed jackets all the time) still looked OK. Deciding that the wrinkles were nothing of consequence, Xander struggled into his pre-tied tie, grabbed his books and ran for the door.

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

One of the concessions Giles had made for Xander was a private language tutorial every afternoon. At SHS, Xander had taken several semesters of Spanish, in which he'd got middling grades at best, but here he was in classes with teenagers who'd been weaned on Latin and Greek, and other languages like Ancient Sumarian. Xander had quite a bit of catching up to do in that department. Latin was one of the most popular languages for spell casting, and many of the best demonology books were also written in the dead language.

Xander walked into his tutor's office right on time. Ms. Haley Fisher waited behind her mammoth, oak desk, her hands folded under her chin. Haley was the premiere authority on languages -- both ancient and otherwise -- at the Academy. She was fluent in seven languages, familiar in five more, and could even read several other dead languages and even a demon dialect or two. Sometimes she got frustrated with Xander and his bumbling attempts to catch up with his peers.

For his part, Xander didn't like Haley very much, but he did respect her talent and her intellect. And having a private tutorial every day was much better than being placed in elementary level classes with boys and girls eight to ten years younger.

"On time for once, Mr. Harris?" Haley said in a dry tone.

Xander slid into his chair at the table in the corner of the office and waited for her to join him. "What can I say, Ms. Fisher? I just couldn't wait to sink my teeth into Latin conjugates."

She stood up, revealing her plump figure encased in (what a shock!) a tweed suit, and walked over to the table with several large books. Xander groaned inwardly when he saw them, but he knew better than to say anything out loud. Haley was of the mind that jokes meant he had too much free time on his hands and needed more homework. Xander thought she wore her bun too tight, again something he would never say to her.

As Haley glanced over his homework before launching into another dry lecture, Xander did his best to sit up and look interested. [I never knew my brain had this much of a capacity for school-related stuff] he thought. [If only my high school teachers could see me now.]

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

Two hours later the sun had begun its final descent, and Xander's head was about to explode. When Haley finally finished, he dashed out of the room as quickly as possible.

"Why am I doing this again?" he asked himself as he ran back to his dorm room. "Oh yeah, it's that whole 'helping to save the world while realizing my potential thing.' Who knew potential would be this much work?"

His thoughts, mostly a product of brain overload, scattered to the wind when he opened the door and saw the unopened boxes in the middle of the floor. He'd almost forgotten about the unexpected treat.

Xander dropped his Latin books on his bed and attacked the boxes with his knife. Minutes later, three open boxes surrounded him. He found two letters, and set them on the desk to read later. Then he started browsing through the boxes.

The biggest one was full of clothes. He smiled to see some of his favorite jeans, sweatshirts, sweaters and T-shirts again. Of course, he could seldom wear such casual things at the Academy, but it was somehow comforting to have them again just the same. And extra underwear and socks never hurt. His smile turned into a grin when he pulled out his crumpled suit and tie, the only one he'd ever owned in Sunnydale, good for funerals and school dances alike. It was nothing compared with the suits furnished for him by the Council upon his acceptance at the school (all students at the Academy without wealthy parents were given access to the Council's private tailor and a generous stipend for living expenses), both tweed and otherwise, but it was his. And he'd always been partial to the Bugs Bunny tie.

Cushioned amongst the clothes was his precious comic book collection. He'd always loved comic books, though he hadn't always had the money to buy the ones he wanted. The books in his collection were his absolute favorites, the ones he couldn't live without. Xander took them and placed them in a desk drawer. Doing so made him a little sad, but he also knew that the other Watchers-in-training would laugh if they saw them. He pushed those thoughts away and turned back to the boxes.

The last thing that had been in the clothes box were his other books. The classics he'd loved as a child. He ran his finger over the leather bindings with a smile, remembering rainy days when he, Willow and sometimes Jesse would read these books out loud to each other and get swept away into the world of Treasure Island, Robinson Crusoe and even The Black Stallion. He found room for the half dozen books in the drawer with the comic books.

Then he turned to the next box. Inside, Xander found the contents of his desk. Scattered pencils, pens, paper, stapler, a Dictionary, a calculator and all the other stuff he'd had stashed in the drawers. [it's like someone just emptied them into the box] he thought with a frown. Mixed in among the desk stuff were his toiletries -- the things he'd had on his dresser and in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom -- his alarm clock and a couple of rolled up posters taken from his bedroom wall.

Without taking the time to completely go through box number two, Xander turned to the third box. On top of a layer of shoes were things that lived under his bed and in his closet in his room at home: some old toys he'd meant to throw away and never done, a broken desk lamp, a couple of address books and student planners from 1992 and 1995 (gifts that had never been used), some pictures, his rock collection, the trophy he'd won at the junior high swim meet (the event neither of his parents had shown up for), some belts and suspenders, a few hats...

There was more junk that he ignored when a familiar golden leg caught his eye. Slowly, Xander pulled his old friend Leo the Lion out of the box. Leo was a stuffed lion, and he'd been worn with lots of love and attention from a young Xander until he had several bald patches in his fur coat and even in his fluffy golden mane. The lion's original yellow bow had been discarded long ago as "too girlie," but Leo still had his original whiskers (except for the one Jesse had pulled off to see if it would make good fishing line), two brown eyes and a pink nose.

Xander stroked Leo's hair with a shaking hand. Something weird was going on here, but feeling the toy's familiar softness under his hand calmed him down. Xander set Leo on his desk, no longer worried if anyone would see it, and dove back into the box again. The next thing he pulled out was a beat up Nike shoe box. Duct tape sealed the lid and the box together, and the words "KEEP OUT" were written all over it in black magic marker.

He looked at the shoe box for a minute and started to tremble all over. He had to sit down on the edge of his bed. Xander knew good and well what was in this box -- things that he never wanted to see again, and yet could never bear to throw away. Momentous of a life long past. Pictures and toys, notes and other keepsakes. Fifteen years of friendship boiled down and squished into one shoebox.

After Jesse and Willow (or so he thought) died, he couldn't bear to look at all the stuff that reminded him of them, the stuff they'd given him, the stuff they shared. He'd thrown out some of it, and the rest -- the special stuff that could never hit the garbage can but that brought back too much -- was stuffed into a bulging shoe box and taped shut. The shoe box had been hidden at the back of the top shelf in his closet and covered with an old pillow case. The only way someone would have found this box was if they had been taking every single thing out of his closet.

The realization dawned on him. That was exactly what his parents had done. Cleaned out his room of every single thing that belong to him. They must have thrown some stuff away, and the rest they'd boxed up and sent to him in this haphazard manner.

With the utmost care, Xander carried the shoe box to the other side of the room. He grabbed his desk chair with his other hand and took both over to the closet. He stood on the chair and peered into the top shelf of his closet. Nothing was up there but dust. He hadn't had enough stuff in his suitcases or been able to purchase enough stuff to need that much storage space yet.

Using both hands, he put the shoe box on the shelf and pushed it back as far as he could. When his arms wouldn't reach any more, he jumped down and grabbed the broken desk lamp and used that to push the shoe box the rest of the way to the back of the shelf. Then he got down, replaced the chair and stared at the letters waiting on his desk. One had his name written on the front. He recognized his mother's handwriting. Xander picked up the other letter and opened it.

"Here's all the junk from your room. We don't have room for it. Rory is selling your jeep for us. That and the money we'll get from renting out your room will help things around here, though from the way you high-tailed it out of town like the coward you are, guess you don't care about this family."

The note wasn't signed, but even as he read it, Xander could hear his father's angry voice echoing in his head.

"I don't care about this family?" Xander yelled, crumpling the letter in his fist. "I don't care? I'm not the one who ruined it!" His voice cracked with unshed tears and he stopped yelling. He dropped the letter on the floor and stepped on it. That didn't seem to help, so he began jumping up and down on it. That didn't help either, so he took the broken desk lamp and used it to pound on the letter until the shade bent and fell off on the floor. Xander threw the useless thing away in disgust.

He sat in the middle of the floor for a while, staring at the mess. Then he reached up and took the other letter off of his desk. [Might as well read it now...]

"Dear Alexander,

The house is very empty without you. Your father has big plans to rent out your room to one of those college students always passing through town. I don't know if it will happen, but the extra money would be nice.

Your father lost his job again. Rory is helping us out as much as he can. Your father's lucky to have a brother like him.

I'm sorry we had to sell the jeep. I know you loved it, but we couldn't afford to keep it.

You're all grown up now, Alexander. I can hardly believe it. I hope you like having your stuff with you. A little bit of home over there in France.

Love, Mom"

Tears flooded his eyes again and spilled out over his cheeks, but this time they were tears of sadness, not tears of rage and hatred. But crying for his mother was fruitless. He hated to admit it, but she was a lost cause. She'd given up on life long ago, and was slowly losing her grip on reality, as evidenced by her continued belief that he was in France, not England. He sighed deeply, wiping the tears away with a clenched fist.

"No more," he ordered himself. "No more tears for them. You can't do anything about it, and apparently they never want you to come back, so just get over it all ready."

He jumped when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Xander, this is Giles."

"Hey," Xander said, relieved for something to distract him from his thoughts. "What's going on?"

"I was just about to call Aidan and Sonya, actually, and I thought you might want to come down and say hello."

Xander's face brightened. "That sounds great. Thanks! Your apartment or your office?" As the head of the Academy, Giles had a whole apartment to himself (not just a room like the students had) on the first floor of the large building.

"Apartment."

"All right. See you in a few."

Xander hung up the phone with an actual smile on his face. It dimmed when he glanced at the stuff on the floor, but he wouldn't let it disappear completely. He turned his back on the junk and his Latin homework and walked out the door. He groaned inwardly when he almost walked right into a pack of the most annoying boys in the entire Academy.

"Where's the fire, Harris?" demanded Richard Nelson, a black-haired guy with small eyes and a wiry build that couldn't be bulked up by excess tweed.

"I'm going down to see Giles," Xander answered honestly, and immediately wished he'd kept his mouth shut. These boys didn't understand, or approve of, his close relationship with their superior. They were afraid of Giles because he had the power to make their dreams and ambitions come true or to send them packing. Nelson was their leader, and he delighted in tormenting Xander whenever possible. Xander did his best not to make trouble, but sometimes he just couldn't help it.

"Ass kisser!"

An angry flush colored Xander's cheeks as he tried to spot which of the five boys had said that, but he couldn't. They all laughed at him. One of them -- Lucas Walding, Nelson's huge, blond side kick -- looked for a minute like he was going to start something more physical, but he never actually made a real move. Finally, Xander just turned and started to walk away.

"Listen here, Yank!" Nelson called after him. "You know and we know, the only reason you are even in this school is that *Mr.* Giles (he stressed the title) pulled strings."

"Giles pulled strings with the new proconsul while he was under the indictment of a tribunal?" Xander replied, rolling his eyes and conspicuously *not* using the title. "That's good. Yeah. He probably had it all set up with Chamberlain before the guy turned out to be a vampire!"

Walding started to advance on Xander as Nelson and the other three boys scowled. Chamberlain was still a very sore subject with any Watcher, even the trainees.

Xander glared up at Walding. "You're not really gonna start something with me, are you?" Nelson and his cronies had been on his case since his first day at the Academy, but they had yet to actually follow through with the threat of physical violence. Xander's dark eyes glittered. His longing to expend some of his pent up frustration and anger on a physical body must have shown through them, because Walding paused in his advance.

Nelson glared and accused, "You haven't any skills, Harris! You know nothing about demonology or prophecies. Or spell casting. You only know one language, and that one not very well. Watchers are born and bred, not picked up at a... what do you yanks call them? Swap meet!"

"Shut up, Nelson," Xander warned through gritted teeth, "or I will show all of you just what my skills are."

"Life on the Hellmouth, blah, blah, blah," one of the other boys, a red head named Seymour Craine, said in a sing-song voice. "We've heard it before."

"And never seen any evidence of it," Nelson finished.

"Have any of you ever dusted a real live vampire?" Xander demanded. Fear flickered on a face or two, but Nelson was still talking.

"I bet you fall flat on your bloody arse in field exercises."

A cold smile curved Xander's lips. "Oh yeah? Wanna put a little wager on that?"

"Like what?" A malicious gleam lit Nelson's eyes.

"If I best you, you're my slave for a whole week, and if you best me, vice versa."

Nelson paled a little bit, but his posse patted him on the back and bolstered him up. "You're on."

"Good." And with that, Xander turned and walked away. This time, he wasn't accosted. As soon as he was in the stairwell and out of their sight, he leaned against the wall and let out a shuddery breath.

"I'm glad that's over," he muttered. "Now all I have to do is find out what field exercises are."

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

Of course, Xander had heard of field exercises. They were scheduled for the the next Monday, and required special arrangements of classes. However, he had yet to actually hear a detailed description of what went on. He assumed, though, that the phrase 'field exercises' meant it would at least be out of the Academy buildings and somewhere in the realm of real life. He had a gleam of hope that it would be something relatively easy, like staking a vampire. Something that would give him a chance to show off the skills and training he actually had, and now he had an even bigger reason to hope for the same thing.

Luckily, he was on his way to see someone who would know the answers to his questions.

His sharp rap on the door was answered by a muffled, "Xander?"

"Yes."

"Ah. Come in then."

Xander smiled. Even in the bastion of the Council's power, Giles was still careful. Of course, after the blemish that was the Chamberlain situation, he had reason to be.

The apartment was well-appointed. It had everything that a bachelor head master could need. The living room, study, kitchenette and bedroom were well-furnished with items of only the highest quality.

When Xander entered, some sandwiches sat on the coffee table. Giles calmly munched one in the leather wing chair next to the fire place. A small blaze crackled merrily in the grate.

"Why do you have a fire?" Xander asked. "It's May! Granted, it's a much chillier May than Southern California, but still..."

Giles just smiled. "I missed fires. The sound and the scent especially. Sunnydale was never cold enough for them."

Xander nodded, then sat down and grabbed a sandwich. He smiled to see a glass of Coke waiting for him on a coaster. "You know me so well."

"It comes from months of keen observation," Giles assured him. Then he said, "Xander, is everything quite all right? You look a bit... well... not yourself."

"Fine..." Xander started to say, but he couldn't get the words out.

Giles set down his sandwich and his tea cup. Then he leaned forward to give the young man on the couch his full attention. "Tell me about it."

And Xander did. All of a sudden, every single one of his fears and insecurities came flooding out. His fear that he wasn't good enough at the bookwork to be a Watcher. The trouble with Nelson and the others. The field exercises bet. How much he missed home where things were safe and secure and Buffy was waiting. And even the stuff about his parents and how they'd practically kicked him out of the house. When the deluge of words was over, Xander sat back and took a deep breath. Then he looked at Giles.

The older man had removed his glasses, and was polishing them with his handkerchief. Assured that Xander was done talking, Giles put the glasses back on and looked at the lad evenly.

"I didn't realize the adjustment had been so hard for you."

"I guess I hadn't either," Xander admitted with some surprise. "That stuff had just been bottled up... Bet you wish you hadn't pulled the cork, huh?"

Giles gave a small smile at Xander's attempt for levity, but the serious look was quick to reappear on his face. "I'm sorry about your parents, Xander. That is a very hard thing for a man your age to face. This may be cold comfort, but I know that you can do so. My mother, a strong Watcher in her own right, always used to say 'it can always make you stronger.' That may be cliche, but it has it's validity. And home is a fluid concept. Your parents' house may not be your home any more, but you can find another home. All you have to do is look for one.

"And, believe it or not, I understand homesickness, I can understand. When I first arrived in Sunnydale, I missed England with my whole being. The fog, the chill in the air, even the smell of it. But over time, that got better. And now, every once in a while, I even find myself longing for a day of Southern California sun... but if you ever tell anyone that, I will deny it vehemently."

Xander laughed out loud at that one. Who knew Giles had even the smallest of kernel of a California dude inside? But the Watcher was already moving on in his speech.

"As for your fears, as we discussed before, you are behind in your studies compared to the students here. Most young Watchers are groomed from the get-go. They know their destiny and start working for it. But you are making great strides, Xander. Don't worry about that. From your school records back in Sunnydale, I never would have guessed. But I knew you, and I knew what you could do when you put your mind to something. You took it upon yourself to step into the shoes of the Slayer, someone with special powers for hunting and killing vampires. And you survived. I know you can do the same here. It's just a different venue." Giles paused and then said, "I wasn't going to tell you this, but I guess it can't hurt. I spoke with Ms. Fisher today, your language tutor."

"Oh great!" Xander moaned. "Whatever she said is a complete exaggeration! I have been working my butt off for her."

"That's what she said."

Xander looked at Giles in shock.

"Well, she didn't actually say the word 'butt'" Giles amended. "But she did say that you have improved more quickly than any student she's ever taught. And coming from her, that is quite a compliment."

"Really?" Xander couldn't stop surprise from coloring his voice. "Ms. Fisher really said that?"

Giles nodded. "She did. Now about this bet..."

"Yeah...?" Xander wondered if Giles was going to chastise him now.

"Field exercises are a rite of passage. Every class has to take them. Several times." Giles sat back in his chair. "Their purpose is to prepare a Watcher for the eventuality of conflict with the forces of darkness. In the past, the forces of darkness were represented by instructors. When I took them they were controlled. Impossible to fail. I have come to think that is a dis-service to the students. The real forces of darkness are not that easy to defeat."

"So you're revamping them... pardon the term?" Xander asked.

Giles nodded. "I already have. It was one of my first tasks as head master. But knowing you as I do... I'm in no way worried about the outcome." He hesitated and then added, "Unless, of course, you get too cocky and make mistakes."

"Don't worry," Xander said with a facsimile of his natural grin. "I trained with the best, right? You've made me more than aware of my flaws."

"So long as you stay that way. My field exercises are going to require one hundred percent from you."

Xander nodded, feeling better than he had in a long time. "Thanks, Giles. This has... helped."

"Glad to be of service." Giles glanced at the phone. "It should be late enough to call now." He glanced back at Xander. "By the way, last time I spoke with Angel he said you had not called him. Why?"

Xander sighed. "I don't know... I just felt kind of awkward. I hate good-byes, and Angel... well, he's been pretty important to me. We're practically brothers. And that made it even harder."

"Ah."

That was all Giles said, but Xander felt guilty anyway. "I'll call him, though. I will. I just have to... find the words."

"The longer you wait..."

"The harder it gets. I know."

"Well, then." Giles reached for the phone. "Shall we?"

Xander nodded eagerly. "Yeah. It will be good to say hi to dear old Parker."

Giles just smiled as he reached out to dial the phone.

----------------------

--------------------------

After some time on the phone with Sonya and the long talk with Giles, Xander felt much better about things. He went back up to his room with an almost happy expression on his face. He even stopped to see if Edward and his friends were still open to him going out with them, but they had already left.

"Oh, well," Xander told himself philosophically, "studying is more important anyway." The idea of being so diligent with his studies was still a new thing with Xander, but he was working on it. And after Giles's words of encouragement, he was actually ready to tackle his Latin homework. Haley Fisher would be surprised how much better he was, he vowed to himself.

His smile vanished, however, as soon as he had stepped through the door to his room and turned on the light. The boxes from Sunnydale were still there, laying in the middle of the floor. His whole life was in those boxes. A life his parents were obviously either too insane or too heartless to care about.

Xander could feel the rage building up inside him again. His mouth tightened to a thin, white line.

"No," Xander said to himself. He walked over to the mirror and stared at his reflection. "You will not break down again. They... *He* doesn't deserve that much emotion from you." After a few seconds of deep breathing, Xander felt a little better. But he couldn't deal with the boxes right now. He couldn't or his fragile sense of calm, of peace, would vanish like a tiny breeze.

Xander went to his bed and pulled the blanket off of the top. With several strong kicks, the boxes were squashed up against the wall in the corner of his room. He covered them with the blanket. Then he turned and sat down at his desk. The other box, the box from Buffy, was there. He looked inside at the note she had sent him. He kissed it. Then he put the box aside and opened his Latin book, burying himself in his studies.

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

The day of the field exercises approached swiftly -- more swiftly than Xander could have believed. He kept to his routine of studying and working out. He cut out any unnecessary interactions. Edward stopped by a couple of times to invite Xander to go places, but Xander always said no. He couldn't do anything else until he had passed the field exercises, and beaten Nelson. And having something to focus every ounce of his energy on let Xander forget about the boxes hidden under the blanket in the corner of his room. That was what Xander had always done. When his parents hurt him, or each other, he focused on something else. First it had been Willow and Jesse. Then it became Sonya and the war against vampires. Then being the Pseudo-Slayer and picking up the slack after Sonya's injury. Then it was Buffy. Now it was school.

Xander had dreams. Every time one of his instructors told him how well he was doing, he didn't see the approval from some trainees, or the hatred from others, those in Nelson's group. He just saw that he was one step closer to being back in Sunnydale. Back with Buffy and his friends. And maybe, when he was there, Xander would finally have the chance to show his father just what he had missed. Every time Xander punched the straw-filled dummy in hand-to-hand training, it was his father's face that he saw.

The day of the field exercises dawned grey and depressing, just like Xander's mood lately. He got up before his alarm went off, unable to sleep any more. He started his morning routine early -- 50 sit ups and 50 push ups. Then he turned on his computer to email Buffy. One good thing about the Academy was the 24-hour internet access. Giles had instated the policy, believing that the internet was a good study tool.

There was a message already waiting for him. He smiled his first smile since the day before when he saw it was from her.

"Xander,

Thanks for what you said yesterday. It really helped. Finals were really getting me down for some reason. But now they're almost over. I hadn't thought before about your classes being that hard. I guess it's just because I know you can do anything...

Things with Aidan are getting better. Less strained. I miss Giles, but it's kind of good to have my own Watcher. Makes things easier with Sonya, too.

Can you believe Sonya and I are almost friends now? It's weird, but a good weird.

Well, I've got to run. English final in 45 minutes. Got to do a little last minute cramming about gerunds! Can't wait to hear from you, as always. Good luck on the field exercises. I know they are today, your time. :)

Love always,

Buffy"

Xander dashed off a quick reply, and then put on his regulation clothes for the field exercises -- a black sweater, black pants and boots. Then he left his room. He knew he couldn't eat breakfast before the event -- puking was not a Pseudo-Slayer-worthy action -- so he headed straight for the Compound.

The Watcher Compound was on the other side of quite a large area of property. It was about a two mile walk from the Academy through fields and forests. Xander enjoyed the solitude. The only sounds were the crunching of his own footsteps and the singing of the birds on their early morning jaunts.

Xander actually felt peaceful when he stepped out of the forest cover and onto the well-tended grounds around the Compound. He walked past the stables and the outdoor exercise courts. The first time he had been here, Xander had entered the mansion through the huge front door. Now he, along with the other trainees and Watchers, knew a better way. A side door through the gardens. It led straight into the kitchen.

It was early enough that Xander had every reason to expect he would be alone in there. But he wasn't. A familiar woman stood in front of a tea kettle, urging it to boil faster.

"Ms. Post..." Xander said, surprised. "I... I mean, Proconsul."

Gwendolyn Post, the new proconsul of the improved and purified Watcher's Council, turned and smiled at him. "Mr. Harris. It's not time for the exercises yet, is it?"

"No. I came early. Didn't want to walk over with the group."

A half smile curved her lips. "I was like that as a trainee. Always kept to myself." Her blue eyes narrowed on his face. "It can be lonely that way."

"I'm OK with that," Xander said, deciding it would be too complicated to try and lie to her. "This is just a transition period for me. A learning period."

"Wouldn't it be nicer if you could make a home here for yourself?" Gwendolyn got another tea cup and filled one for him and one for herself. "This place, all the grounds, was meant to be a haven for Watchers. A place we can all be safe and commune with each other. It may have fallen away from that in recent history, but I want to renew that aspect of the estate." She took a sip of her coffee and sighed in pleasure. "We all need a home now and then. Being a Watcher can be difficult, and draining."

Xander took a sip of his tea. He was beginning to like the stuff. Then he looked back at the proconsul, surprised she was actually talking to him. As far as he knew, she never had much contact with the trainees. In response to her question, he said, "Maybe you're right."

Gwendolyn gave him a small smile. "I can tell you don't believe me, Mr. Harris. But think about it, all right?" Tea cup in hand, she turned and headed for the door. "I'll see you at the field exercises. Good luck." Then she was gone.

Xander finished his tea quickly. It actually helped to settle the nerves in his stomach. Then he rinsed out the cup and put it away.

Leaving the kitchen, Xander made his way down the hallways -- with surprisingly few wrong turns -- until he found the room where the field exercises would be held. It was the same room in which Buffy had been tested by the Council a few weeks earlier. Xander hadn't seen that. Pausing outside the door, Xander glanced at a door down the hall. He and Joyce had hidden there, waiting till it was clear so they could sneak around and find the kidnapped Doyle and Sonya.

The large, indoor exercise court was empty when Xander walked inside. He took a seat in the first row of seats and looked out at the floor of the court. It was big, and covered with what looked like sawdust or maybe just sand or dirt. Something softer than concrete, yet not gymnastic mats or something cushy like that. There were several thick partitions, almost walls, free standing in various places around the court, providing hiding places and other things for resourceful trainees. Xander sat thinking about everything in his life, wondering how things had gotten so mixed up. He'd known what he wanted when he started this thing. He'd wanted to make something of himself. He'd wanted to be a Watcher and help the world, and his friends. Now, adrift in a morass of lessons, training, jarring blows from across the sea and snobby trainees, he began to wonder if it was worth it.

"You're here early."

Xander felt, rather than saw, Giles sit down next to him. "Yeah."

"Any reason why?"

"Needed some time to myself. Been thinking."

"About?"

"Life in general."

"Sounds complex."

"It is."

Giles reached out and clapped Xander on the shoulder. "I just wanted to wish you good luck today. A lot is riding on this." More than Xander knew, actually. This was Giles's first big change in the training regimen. Adding real vampires to the field exercises had been too much for many of the other Watchers. Luckily, the proconsul had backed him, approving this trial run.

Xander looked at Giles and nodded. "It will be fine, I'm sure."

Giles stood. "Oh, I arranged a little something for you."

"You did?"

Giles smiled enigmatically. "You'll see."

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

Field exercises had a straight forward concept. Training young Watchers-to-be for combat-like situations. In the past, groups were sent out against simulated fiends -- usually their instructors in disguise. The object was not to be killed, and it had never been more than a mildly challenging one.

This time, things would be different. Real vampires would be added to the mix, making it more like when Buffy herself was tested before the Council. Any Watchers in the Compound could come view the proceedings and make comments, but only the instructors scored points. Several guards ringed the exercise court with cross bows, an insurance policy in case the trainees couldn't handle it.

The vampires had been captured by an elite crew of Council operatives, as they always were in such cases. After the abolishment of the Crucintium (the test of the Slayer without her powers), this gave the elite corps something else to do. There would be four vampires, and four trainees in the ring at one time -- making for a total of five matches. The trainees would be armed with anything they needed, within reason. One rule Giles had made: no crossbows. Some wondered why the vampires would bother to fight in a place where they had no hope of coming out alive. But blood lust could do strange things to vampires -- and these vamps had been starved for a long time, just for this occasion.

Xander found himself in a group with two trainees he didn't know, and one that he did. There was a girl with red hair in curls that framed a chubby-cheeked face. Freckles dusted her nose, but her green eyes dimmed a little with worry. Xander walked over and introduced himself. He had seen her in a couple of classes, but they had never talked.

She looked up at him in surprise. "Oh, hello. My name is Sarah O'Malley. You're Alexander Harris, right?"

A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips. Only his mother called him Alexander. "It's Xander to my friends. Or sometimes Harris."

"Xander, then." Sarah's eyes darted around the exercise court rapidly. They stood by the side, waiting for the weapons to be dispersed. All their classmates and instructors sat in the seats around the court. "Are you nervous?"

Xander nodded. "A bit."

"I've never been up against a vampire before," Sarah admitted nervously. "I... I've always wanted to do something non-violent, like keep records, or teach languages to future trainees."

"Both things that need to be done," Xander agreed. "But, you've had all the hand-to-hand training as everyone else. You should be able to do this just fine."

"But what if I can't?"

Xander laid a hand on her shoulder. "You can." He couldn't help it. Xander had always had a chivalrous streak. "And I'll help you. We could team up."

"Really?"

"Really."

"What are you two chattering about over here?"

Xander rolled his eyes and then turned to face the newcomer. "Nelson. What luck us being in the same group." Xander knew that was the favor Giles had mentioned. Now it would be obvious who won the bet. Beside Nelson stood another boy. Allen Greensmith. Xander knew Greensmith was friends with Edward, but he'd never talked to the other guy much.

"Don't worry," Nelson said. "When the vamps come out, I'll protect you all." He put an arm around Sarah's shoulders. "Especially you."

Sarah tried to pull away from the boy, but Nelson wouldn't let go.

Xander stepped forward threateningly. "I don't think she likes you much."

Nelson let go so he could glare at Xander. "What? Do you think she has the hots for you? Just because you shag the Slayer on a regular basis, that doesn't mean you're bloody special."

Xander saw red. He would have punched Nelson in the face if Greensmith hadn't grabbed his arm.

"Don't," Greensmith said in a harsh whisper. "Don't feed into the stereotype. Blood-thirsty, Hellmouth-raised Yank and all that." Xander nodded, and took a few deep breaths.

Nelson just smirked. "I knew your supposed prowess was all show. And today we'll prove it."

"Haven't you seen him in hand-to-hand?" Sarah asked Nelson angrily. "He never loses."

"He's never gone against me."

The side door opened with a loud squeak, interrupting their conversations. Two instructors walked in with a cart full of weapons. The trainees began arming themselves. Greensmith took a cross, two stakes and a long staff with a pointed edge. Sarah took two crosses, a vial of holy water and a stake. Nelson grinned as he took a broad sword and a mace. He stuffed a stake in his pocket as an afterthought. Xander paused before making his selections. There were several other specialty weapons like the sword. He almost took one. It would make a spectacular beheading tool. But he didn't. Xander knew what he was good at. He took three stakes, a vial of holy water and a knife. He stuffed the weapons into various pockets in his serviceable black clothing -- all except for one stake, which he held in his hand.

"Too ill-trained for the good stuff, huh, Harris?" Nelson grinned as he polished the blade of the broad sword with his shirt sleeve.

Xander ignored him and stood next to Sarah. "The key to fighting vamps, is never let them sneak up on you."

She looked up, drinking in his every word. "Really?"

"Yeah. Keep 'em out in the open, and do the job quickly. You'll tire before they will, so you've got to get 'em while you're fresh."

Then there was no more time for talking. The sound of a cage door opening echoed throughout the room, and all the trainees knew the vampires were free. Nelson took off running around the first partition, followed closely by Greensmith. Sarah looked at Xander. He nodded, and they started walking that way together.

They heard a cry, and both started to run. They rounded the partition in time to see a blond vampire, wearing glasses of all things, drop kick Greensmith in the jaw and send him sprawling. Nelson was picking himself up off the ground. He ran at the vampire, sword extended. The vampire jumped so high he seemed to be flying. He landed behind Nelson. Nelson skidded to a stop and turned around.

"Come back, you fiend! Are you too cowardly to face me?" Nelson thundered. The vampire's face grew angry as he prepared for his next attack.

"Oh my..." Sarah said with a gasp.

"What?" Xander asked, all the while wondering what had happened to the other three. They must be hiding behind some of the other partitions...

"That's Penn."

"What?" Xander looked at the girl in confusion.

"Penn," Sarah said again. "I just finished reading a book on all known vampires. Penn was sired by Angelus. They wrecked havoc on the Continent for decades. He liked to... mark his victims."

Before Xander had time to be amazed at Sarah's memory, he heard something behind him. Not a footstep, because vampires seldom make such noise. It was a tiny whooshing, but enough to put his senses on the alert. Xander spun around in time to see two vampires bearing down on them. One was a girl with long, white-blonde hair. The other was a husky man wearing the remains of a tuxedo.

Glancing at Sarah, Xander said, "You take her. I'll take him. Remember what I said."

Sarah nodded. She still looked scared, but determined also. She pulled out a stake in one hand and a cross in the other hand and advanced toward the girl vampire. Xander did his best to draw Tuxedo Guy away from the others. Divide and conquer was the best strategy he could come up with on the spur of the moment. Then he made the mistake of glancing back. Nelson still tangled with Penn, and the fourth vampire had finally made his appearance, sneaking up behind Greensmith, who was still stunned from the kick to the head.

"Greensmith!" Xander yelled. "Behind you!" Then a blow sent Xander sprawling. He jumped to his feet, hoping Greensmith would get it together. Xander turned to Tuxedo Guy. "What happened to you, man? Get killed on your way to the prom?"

The vampire just growled and lunged in, staring hungrily at Xander's neck.

"What, no witty come back?" Xander asked, skipping lightly out of the vamp's way. "I feel so... empty inside." He followed up his words with a kick to the vampire's stomach and a punch to the face. The vampire staggered back a little. Xander pressed his advantage, raining punches and kicks down on the fiend.

It was just when this looked like it would be an average kill, that things got interesting. Xander spared a brief glance to check on the others -- all still alive, so far. Then a handful of dirt flew into his face. Xander coughed and spluttered, trying not to inhale the stuff. His eyes stung and watered. He didn't see the blow coming. Pain blossomed in his chest and he fell down. When Xander could see again, the vampire was on top of him.

They rolled and scuffled in the dirt, the vampire's extra strength weighing Xander down. But the extra strength, and the heaviness that came along with it, gave Xander an advantage. He sagged for a moment, making Tuxedo Guy think he was done for. Then, when the vamp was just ready to sink his teeth into Xander's jugular, Xander pushed up with his knees. All he needed was a little space. Xander pulled the stake up between them and let go with his knees. The vampire couldn't stop himself, and fell onto the stake, bursting into a cloud of dust that set Xander coughing again.

But he couldn't rest. Xander jumped up and looked for Sarah. She held the female vampire at bay with her cross. The vamp growled and hissed, trying to intimidate the other girl. Xander looked at Sarah's face. She was scared, really scared. In a minute, the vampire was going to realize that, and lunge for her despite the cross.

Xander ran toward the two girls. When he was almost there, he dropped to the ground in a maneuver Angel had taught him long ago. Xander flipped and came up on one knee, letting a stake fly. His aim was true -- almost as good as with a cross bow -- and the stake impaled the female vamp through the heart from behind.

Sarah was visibly relieved. She whispered, "Thank you." Then comprehension dawned on her face. "Oh... I'm going to fail. I didn't kill it myself."

"Don't worry about that now!" Xander ordered. "We've got to..."

His words were punctuated by a cry from the other side of the court. Xander turned. Penn had Greensmith up against a partition. The other vamp was nowhere to be seen -- dusted by Greensmith earlier? -- and Nelson lay, dazed, a few yards away.

On the rim of the court, the guards aimed their crossbows at Penn's back. Giles motioned for them to wait one more second.

Then Xander took off running, pulling a cross out of his pocket as he ran. He slapped the cross on Penn's back. The vampire howled in rage, dropping Greensmith against the wall with a loud crack, and turning to face this new threat. Xander darted back a few steps. His eyes narrowed on Xander consideringly. The cross between them seemed a slim margin of safety while looking at Penn's insane eyes framed with gold-rimmed glasses, almost like the style myopic Watchers seemed to favor.

"You remind me of someone... someone I once knew..." Penn said softly, staring at Xander with that hypnotic gaze. "My brother, perhaps..."

Xander heard a scream a few yards away. The other vampire was not dead after all, and hoping to munch on Nelson. Sarah sprang at him before he could get to the dazed boy.

Xander glanced to Penn's side and met Greensmith's eyes. Xander quirked his head in Penn's direction, hoping Greensmith would know what he meant. Now was the perfect chance for Greensmith to stake Penn in the back, while Xander occupied him from the front.

Greensmith shook his head, showing Xander his empty hands. His weapons were gone. Xander's mind started to work. With Penn's eyes on him, there was no way Xander could get close enough to stake him. But if he could distract the vampire long enough to slip Greensmith a stake, the other boy could get him from behind, while Penn thought the other boy was stunned motionless.

It was now or never. Penn looked like he was about to try something. In a series of quick moves, Xander lunged forward and hit Penn in the face with the cross, breaking the vampire's glasses. With his other hand, while Penn was blinded, Xander tossed a stake around to Greensmith. The other boy missed the catch.

Penn thrust Xander and the cross away from his face and growled, "Now you're going to get it, boy." His broken glasses dangled from his face by one ear until he ripped them off and dropped them to the ground.

Xander fumbled for his last remaining stake, but Penn saw what he was doing.

"I don't think so!" Penn grabbed Xander, threw him and the stake in different directions, and then moved to grab Xander again. Xander played limp for a moment, hoping Greensmith would finish Penn off. But it didn't look like that was going to happen.

"What do you know?" Xander asked, biding for time as he searched around for a weapon. The knife was in his other pocket, if only he could grab it without Penn noticing. The only way Xander could distract Penn now was with words. Luckily, Xander always had a plethora of words, and Sarah had given him just the tip he needed as to what would upset Penn the most. "If you were sired by Angelus, you must be the same kind of pantywaist. What is it they say? 'Like sire, like son!'"

Penn growled deep in his throat. "How dare you speak ill of *my* sire! Angelus is a god!"

Xander snorted. "Yeah, well, if you consider a vampire cow-towing to humans and Slayers godly. The demon with the angel's face has been castrated big time!" Xander pulled on every scrap of information and acting ability he had. "In fact, rumor has it, your 'god' is currently dating a potential Slayer! How's that for whipped?"

The blond vampire roared in rage. "You're lying! Angelus would never... We were supposed to meet in Romania..."

Xander took the vampire's moment of distraction and whipped the knife out of his pocket. "Either he stood you up to screw with Slayers, or he met someone he couldn't handle, and I'm making this all up." In one quick move, Xander brought the knife to Penn's throat and slashed it from ear to ear. "Either way, it doesn't matter much now!"

Penn toppled over, clutching his throat and wheezing in some sort of involuntary reaction, probably because he was trying to say something and couldn't use his vocal cords. Xander knew that time was limited. Penn would heal... unless they took advantage of his momentary incapacitation.

"Greensmith!" Xander shouted.

The other boy finally got his act together. He scooped up the stake, ran over and plunged it into Penn's chest. The blond vampire didn't heal quickly enough for any last words. He just poofed into dust, still clutching his throat.

Across the court, Sarah had jumped onto the last vampire's back, distracting him from his assault on Nelson. The vampire flung her off fairly easily. She pulled out her stake, and tried to ram it into his chest, but he slapped her blow aside, and sent her flying back against a partition.

But the distraction gave Nelson enough time to grab his sword again and stand up to face the vampire. The vamp growled.

Nelson swung the sword at him in a complex series of blows. One struck home against the vamp's arm, but it didn't phase the creature in the least. Nelson changed tactics and started aiming for the vampire's head and decapitation. The vamp grabbed the sword blade in both hands and pulled, regardless of any pain. Nelson held on, but his strength was no match for a vampire's. Then the vampire had the sword, and began aiming for Nelson. Nelson scrabbled backwards, and then tripped, falling to the ground. The vampire's blade bit Nelson in the shoulder, gouging out a bit of flesh and leaving a blood-soaked spot on his sweater.

Behind them, Sarah managed to get to her feet. Xander and Greensmith started to move toward them, but they were too far away to get there in time. Sarah got there, and emptied her bottle of holy water on the vampire's head. The vampire roared in rage, and spun around, aiming for her with the sword.

"Nelson!" Greensmith yelled. He tossed his stake to Nelson. The dark-haired teen grabbed it and lunged. His aim was true, and the vampire burst into dust, leaving the four battered and bruised teenagers alone in the exercise court.

The guards lowered their crossbows and looked toward Giles and the other instructors. Giles made the motion, and the door was opened. Xander, Sarah, Nelson and Greensmith picked up their scattered weapons and walked out the door, waiting to find out how well, or how badly, they had acquitted themselves during the test.

Nelson's face was pale, but while they waited, he managed to find his sarcasm again. Giving Sarah a disdainful glance, he said, "I shudder to think what your marks will be, Sarah. You didn't even kill your vampire. Harris had to come bail you out."

Sarah flushed and looked down, obviously feeling embarrassed. Greensmith frowned at Nelson, obviously displeased by the ungentlemanly and uncalled for remark, but his proper breeding made him hold his tongue.

Xander had no such problem, and he was angry enough to say exactly what he felt. "Sarah may have faltered when face-to-face with her first real vampire, but at least she didn't let the enemy grab her weapon and attack her with it!"

Greensmith smirked at the discomfiture on Nelson's face. Then he said, "You know, I heard a rumor that there was a bet on this match. Something about the loser being the winner's slave for a week?" He paused and glanced at Xander. "I wonder which is the winner. The man who killed two vampires and helped kill a third, or the guy who only killed a vampire after letting it attack him with his own weapon."

An angry flush burned Nelson's face. "I ought to..."

"You ought to what?" Greensmith replied calmly. "I'm just telling the truth. And everyone else saw the same thing, I'm sure. Our whole class was watching, you know."

"It's not like you were a big hero," Nelson grumbled.

Greensmith shrugged. "I never said I was. But at least the vampire I killed didn't wound me with my own weapon!"

Xander stifled a laugh, and Sarah said, "I think Xander has some good service coming to him."

"We'll just have to see what the instructors say about scores, then won't we?" Nelson answered with an air of bravado. They all knew that Nelson had lost, but Nelson wouldn't admit it until the end.

Greensmith turned to Xander. "How did you know what to say to distract him, anyway?"

"It was Sarah." Never one to hog the credit, Xander deferred to the girl with a smile. "She recognized him from her studies, and once I knew his history I was able to use my history with Angel to try and make him too emotional to think straight. Luckily it worked. I wasn't sure that it would."

"It was very good thinking, Mr. Harris. Very good indeed."

While the trainees had been talking amongst themselves, the instructors had come up behind them. The unexpected voice belonged to Haley Fisher. Xander gave her a look, somewhat surprised at the praise. His eyes turned to Giles, and Xander saw a proud look on his face, but Giles couldn't talk to Xander right now. There were things to do.

The instructors took each of the trainees off for a one-on-one session to discuss their failures and their successes. Xander went with Haley. Nelson went with Giles. Xander smirked at that, knowing from first hand experience how little tolerance Giles had for stupid mistakes.

After the one-on-one sessions, Xander and his group sat in the stands to watch the others take their turns. Each group had some mishaps, but there were no actual casualties. A boy named Wendell was nipped by vampire fangs, but a girl named Daphne managed to rescue him. Wendell redeemed himself by staking a different vampire, and after that group left the court, he seemed to be utterly enthralled by the beautiful, athletic Daphne, and followed her around like an adoring puppy. Daphne seemed used to such attention, and mostly ignored him.

Edward acquitted himself well during his turn. He defeated his own vampire fairly easily, and then helped the others where he could, never trying to cover himself with too much glory, but just trying to get the job done.

After all was said and done, Giles announced the scores. No one failed. Even those who had messed up, like Nelson or like Sarah, had redeemed themselves by at least killing a vampire or having key knowledge or trying to save someone else. But Xander got the highest marks in the class.

When Xander went up to Giles to accept the small medal that went to the highest scorer, he was surprised to hear a smattering of applause from his classmates. He'd thought most of them hated his guts, but when he turned to look, all but Nelson and a couple of his closest cronies were smiling at him and clapping. They didn't look annoyed at him or anything.

"I knew you could do it, Xander," Giles said softly. "Enjoy the moment, but I'm sure there will be more to come."

Before Xander could ingest that compliment, he felt a tapping on his shoulder. It was the proconsul!

"You did well, Mr. Harris," she said, giving him one of her rare smiles. "I look forward to seeing what you do in your off-site exam." Then she left.

Xander turned back to Giles. "There's an off-site exam? What is that?"

Giles shook his head and advised, "Don't worry about that now. Just enjoy the moment."

But the moment soon dissolved, in the way that moments do. Xander found himself trailing along behind the group as they all walked back to the Academy. Their classes had been cancelled for the rest of the day, so the tired trainees could rest up from the rigors of the morning and afternoon's events.

As they walked, Edward came up beside Xander. "So, do you feel the hero?"

"Not really," Xander admitted. "This is all very strange. I didn't think anyone here really liked me, especially with Nelson and his group bashing me all the time."

"It may come as a shock to you, but not everyone here is like Nelson." Edward gave Xander a knowing look. "I know that your life in the States is important to you, but you should keep something in mind."

"What's that?"

"The Council is a living, breathing organization. It exists to do more than just fight evil, though that is it's primary purpose. It exists also to be a support system for its members. When that breaks down, it just makes our work harder, like what happened to Mr. Giles. Ms. Post is trying to get that feeling of community, of home, back."

"But my home is in Sunnydale," Xander protested. "And, no offense, but most of the people here haven't exactly warmed to me."

Edward nodded. "That's true, but you haven't exactly warmed to them, either. You've never once accepted an invitation to go with me and my mates into the city. You can't find a home here if you never let yourself *live* here."

Xander thought about that for a moment. "Ed, do you think that I can have a home here, and in Sunnydale?" Even dispite his parents and what they had done, Xander felt almost like he was betraying his friends and the people who were his real family back in Sunnydale if he liked England too much.

"Of course, you can," Edward replied. "That's what the Council is all about. Once you make your home here, you can come back whenever you want to, though you don't have to. But one thing might stop you..."

"What's that?" Xander asked curiously.

"When I bloody well beat you up if you keep calling me Ed!"

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

Tired trainees all went straight to their rooms when they got back from the Compound. Xander unlocked his door and stepped into his room with a sense of relief. It was nice to be completely alone for a while. His eyes fell on his books. He thought he should probably study, but the idea held no appeal. Instead, he plopped down on his bed and picked up his picture of Buffy. He looked at it and smiled at her.

"Hi, sweetie. I miss you. I had a good day, today, though. A very good day." He paused, focusing on her eyes. Beautiful Buffy eyes, the love in them, even in the picture, directed just at him. "And you know what? That's OK. We can have good days while we're apart. It will just make the ones when we're together again even sweeter."

He rolled over on his side and set the picture back on the table. He clipped the medal to the edge of the frame. His new life and his old life... maybe everyone was right. Maybe they could co-exist.

As he lay on his side, his eyes wandered down to the floor and landed on the blanket-covered boxes in the corner. All the physical momentoes of his other life. And suddenly Xander realized that he'd known the truth all along. Even when he went back to Sunnydale, that part of his life -- the part where he lived with his parents and let their opinions and problems rule his life -- was over.

Slowly, Xander sat up. He pulled the blanket off the boxes and stared at them. The letters from his parents sat on top of the pile. In the biggest box was another shoebox. Only this shoebox had actual shoes in it. Xander took the shoebox out and put the shoes on the floor. Then he took the letters and placed them in the bottom of the shoebox. Carefully, he went through the boxes and pulled out anything that explicitly reminded him of his parents: the truck from his father (the only birthday gift the man had ever given his son); the belt his father had used on Xander once (he'd taken it right off Xander's body), after a particularly long drinking binge; the trophy that marked the meet his parents hadn't cared about, or had forgotten to show up for; the earmuffs his mom always made him wear when it was cold, even though California wasn't nearly cold enough for earmuffs... Xander filled the box. Luckily it was a big shoebox -- the shoes inside had been boots.

He hesitated over Leo the Lion. His mother had given it to him on his fifth Christmas. The Christmas that his father missed entirely. The time that now, in Xander's mind, marked the beginning of the end of their family. He still didn't know where his father had been that Christmas, but the absence and the yelling when his father got home had been indelibly imprinted on his young brain.

Xander started to put Leo in the box. There were so many bad memories attached. But there were good memories, too. Willow and Jesse memories. And good mother memories. Like the time he'd lost Leo, and they had to search all over the neighborhood until they found the stuffed animal. And she hadn't even gotten mad, just given him a hug and helped him search. Or the time Leo's eye had fallen off and Mrs. Harris sewed it right back on.

In the end, Xander didn't put Leo in the box. "I need something to remember her by," he mumbled, to whom he was speaking, Xander wasn't sure. He set Leo on his bed, then he got out some tape. He circled the box with tape until it was completely sealed. Then he got a marker and wrote "Keep Out" in bold, black letters over the tape.

Xander dragged his desk chair over to the closet, and climbed on top of it. He reached up and shoved the box back into the corner of the top shelf, next to the box full of Willow and Jesse momentoes. Then Xander hopped down off the chair, suddenly feeling a whole lot lighter inside. A smile actually came over his face as he looked at the junk in the boxes. Feeling a lot better, Xander opened all of the boxes and started unpacking them, finding places on shelves or in the closet for the clothes and other things.

He had just about finished when there was a knock on his door.

"Who is it?" Xander called.

"Edward." The announcement was followed by the door opening and the trainee in question walking in. Edward surveyed the room and smiled. "It jolly well looks like you've moved in, Harris."

"I think I have, Edward," Xander agreed.

After he took in the changed room, Edward turned to Xander. "So, now that you've unpacked... what are your plans?"

"Well, I've always got Latin to do..." Xander started.

Edward interrupted him. "Latin! Nah! Not tonight."

"You've got something better?"

"Yes," Edward replied. "Some of us are going into London again tonight. Greensmith and I figured that we deserved a little holiday after this afternoon. Mr. Giles agreed, and is even loaning us an Academy car so we don't have to pay for a cab." He paused and then added, "Some of the guys were hoping you would come."

Xander glanced reluctantly at his books. Then his eyes went over to the picture of Buffy on his bedside table with the medal attached. Then he grinned at Edward. "OK! I'll go. I just have to do one thing first."

Edward nodded. "We're leaving in an hour. Meet us downstairs."

"Great."

After Edward left, Xander turned and walked over to the phone. There was one more bit of business that he had to settle. He picked up the black receiver and dialed a very familiar number. He didn't know if the person he was calling would be in, but he had to try. His mind flashed back to his conversation with Giles the night before, and then to today's activities.

The overseas call sounded a little static-y, but Xander heard the ringing on the other end begin. When he got a real person instead of an answering machine, he was almost surprised. But he was glad.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Angel. It's Xander. I've been meaning to call you for a long time."