3?

AN: A little darker at the Harris Household part – nothing graphic, but just the air being cleared.

(November 2, 9 PM)

He still hurt from whatever the boy had done, in fact even his vampire healing wasn't going to help him as quickly as he would have liked, but unlike his grand-poof, at least he wasn't a pile of dust; Halloween was generally the one night out of the year that he stayed in, too damned hokey for his taste, but Spike had decided to go out on Dru's rantings and ravings about how the Slayer was going to be weak, and something a kitten with noisy claws. Of course, then he'd been caught up in the chaos that had happened and, subsequently, had been presented with an opportunity he had partaken of twice before, killing a Slayer … but then that damned boy showed up with that bloody shotgun and started shooting light out of his arse, some of that light actually toasted Peaches, though, so he could forgive the boy for that.

"Ohh, Spikey, my little kitty cat is out here, he is, and he's with the nasty Slayer and little tree, hiding his claws and prowling for little mice he is," Dru went on and on and ON about 'her little kitten', and while Spike was fairly sure she was truly insane, there were time past that she had shown that she was far too cunning and thinking to be completely insane, so he thought it might just be an act.

"Oh, is that so, Ducks?" He pulled her close and kissed her, dipping his hand into the front of her dress and squeezing her full, cold breast, "If it came down to him and me, who'd walk away?"

She pulled away and nipped at his lips, her dark eyes clouding slightly with lust, but she then frowned and her bottom lip began to quiver, "My little Spikey … you look all soot-covered, you do, all ashen … Kitten, you're all dusty, you are…" She closed her eyes and cocked her head off to the side, "Shhh, listen to the stars, my Spikey, they sing to me, they do…"

Spike stopped listening to her as she pronounced his fate, his mind easily decoding her nigh-prophecy of his destruction at the claws … er… hands of 'Kitten'; he'd been sired by her, and for some reason he could read her insane rantings for the truth that they were, and this time he truly wished he had not been able to, "Ducks … let's go back home – we can hunt another night."

Dru looked at him sadly, "But we'll miss Kitten, the little tree and the nasty Slayer, we will! Kitten has a prezzie for me, he does, and I so love my prezzies, all nice and juicy ones, like hearts and little kiddie eyeballs, I do."

Spike shook his head, grasping her arm, "No, Ducks, we're leaving."

She jerked her arm away from him, her eyes flashing slightly, "No, William, we are not." He backed up, his eyes wide as she used his real name, but also at the look of sanity in her eyes, sanity that quickly melted away as she smiled and began to sway to a song only she could here, "Shhh, Spikey … Kitten's here."

"Can I get a say on what you call me, Miss Clearly-insane-vampire-lady?" Spike turned at the voice he recognized as the Slayers, though at least this time she wasn't screeching like some damned banshee, and he saw her, a delectable little redhead clutching a cross and that boy, dressed in Peaches' long coat, his eyes flat and an odd grin on his face.

The female vampire, whom had been gorgeous when she was alive, he could tell, hissed at Buffy's response, so Xander couldn't help but quip, "Uh, Buff, I don't speak insane-ese, but I think that means 'no'."

Buffy nodded, pulling out her stake, "Yup; well, that or 'I like those shoes – I'd like a pair myself'."

Xander smirked somewhat, his left hand clutching the butt of the 9mm pistol he'd gained last night, "Somehow, I doubt it's the second, Buff." He looked the pair over and then noticed something, "Gah, not to sound like Cordy, but can you BE any more 80's? The Billy Idol look went out, like, ten years ago, easily, man."

"OY! Watch your mouth, brat, he's the one copying me!"

Xander opened his mouth to say something else rather witty, but the woman in the dress squealed and clapped her hands, speaking dreamily, "Kitten! My dear, sweet little kitty cat's here, he is, and he's got his bright, shiny claws, he does."

Xander blinked, looked over at Buffy and Willow, who looked as confused as he was, and en mass they all turned to the Billy Idol impersonator, "Uh, dude … who's 'Kitten'?"

The man grinned at him, "Well, mate, I think she's talking about you, unless you're not a bloke. Can't say I think you are, given you hang around with these birds, though," he went on with a nasty grin.

Xander didn't even think about it – he pulled the pistol in his left hand and emptied the 12-round clip into the vamp, hitting him ten times in the chest and twice in the face, but sadly it didn't do much more than throw him back into a near-by tree, where he slumped to the ground. Still not thinking straight, Xander swung his right hand up, the trench coat he was wearing parting to show the beefy assault shotgun, and squeezed the trigger as he turned level with the woman, who had vamped out by now. His first shot roared out as she moved, ripping a long gash in her dress, flashing him a great deal of her thigh as he shifted up and to the right, but by then she was already close to a charging Buffy, so he held off firing.

Buffy fended off the hissing vampiress while she heard Xander drag Willow off to one side – she had been shocked when he had shot the vampire Billy Idol like that, as she didn't even know he'd had the gun, but the shock had faded when he'd brought out the shotgun he'd showed them the day before and hit the woman in the dress; she was going to have a serious talk with him, later, about not telling her about his toys, let alone not letting her play with them.

Xander finished pulling Willow out of the fight area as Buffy started to match the vampiress woman move for move, but soon the vampiress saw she was outgunned and hissed out, "Slayer, I will be back and I'll avenge my Spikey, I will!" With that, the woman was gone as she dove through a hedge, leaving a good portion of her dress skirt behind. Though she had been a vampiress, Xander could at least admit she had a nice set of legs as Buffy growled and stalked over, her eyes directly on his shotgun.

"Xander?" Buffy's voice was saccharine sweet as she wiped her brow and tucked her stake into her back pocket, "Why didn't you tell me you had your shotgun on you tonight?"

"Because I liked it right where it was, in reserve?" He removed his pistol and changed clips, finding time to think that while the accuracy was okay, the power behind the pistol rounds left much to be desired, but such was the dilemma of the 9mm – good armor penetration, so-so stopping power.

Buffy pouted, "But I wanna shoot it! It can hurt a vamp really good, you know."

He nodded, "Yeah, I know, Buff, but it'll put you on your ass – I'm almost ten inches taller and fifty pounds heavier than you, and I can barely control it." Putting his pistol away, Xander looked down at the quivering, yet healing, mass of vampire that lay next to the tree, "Now, what was it you said? I can't really be a guy because I hang around with girls?" He gripped the pistol grip of the shotgun and grinned, pointing it at the vampire's messy chest, "Well, I'll tell you this – I'm secure enough to admit that Buffy's tougher than me, but I'm a better shot than she is."

His stake wasn't really much more than a surveying stake he'd taken the sharp edges off of with a utility knife near the grip, but it worked as he slammed the stake home into the blonde man's unmoving chest and he evaporated into dust; this action brought back a momentary flash of Jessie's final moments on the planet, but those soon faded as he stood back up, a lone tear falling from one eye.

"You alright, Xand?" He looked over at Willow, who looked at him worriedly.

"Yeah, Wills, I'm fine – vamp dust in the eyes, that's all."

(Later – Elsewhere)

Dru snarled as she stalked back and forth, all hints of her insanity gone – it had taken decades, but she had been able to claw her way back to some semblance of sanity, even under the watchful eyes of her childe, Spike, and she had hidden it well. Now, though, that her childe and her sire were dust, not to mention her Grandsire and Great-Grandsire, she had nobody to hide it from anymore.

Her Kitten, the soldier that had taken her sire, and now her childe, she had to find out just who he was, where he lived and what he did, but all of that paled in comparison to another thing she needed to do, and that was find a new dress. The boy had ripped hers with his weapon, and if she had her way, she'd rip his clothes up with a knife … and then off her hands … before she finally got around to turning him to replace her childe – she had seen a dark streak in the boy, and would use it to her advantage as soon as she was able to walk around and not flash the world.

(One week later – Harris Household)

From the doorway, he could see the boy in the garage wearing just a pair of shorts, hanging from the hole in the ceiling they used to get into the attic, his legs crossed under him as he pulled himself up again and again in a low, easy rhythm that showed a strength belying his physical stature. What pissed Tony off the most, though, was that the boy was making it look easy – even in his prime as a Marine, Tony had never been able to pull out more than a dozen without having to stop and adjust his grip, but he'd seen Alex pull out at lest twenty already and the kid was just starting to look tired, "Well, well, well, boy, it looks like you aren't as weak as you look. With any luck, we may make a man out of you yet, just like me."

Alex paused half-way up, looked over at him, and then dropped to the ground, barely making a sound though he wore his sneakers, his face only slightly red and sweat just starting to show on his body, "Is that so? A man … just like you? Gosh, to achieve that … I'd have to cut my own balls off, first." Alex's voice was filled with pure contempt as Tony felt his face go flushed red with anger, but he wasn't finished, "Don't tell me about being a man, Tony – you wouldn't know what that was if it came up and bit you in the ass, repeatedly."

"Don't you dare sass me, boy – I'm not too old to beat you some more like I used to," Tony threatened, expecting the boy to back down as he always had, but he was shocked to his core when Alex merely cricked his head left, and then right, and then smirked. "What, you think you can take me, boy? You remember what I told you about the first hit, don't ya?"

"Yeah, I need to make it count," Xander said as his step-father/uncle, as he had been his uncle until his father left, and then he'd married mom, smirked at him. "Thing is, Tony, it's not a question of if I can take you – the question is if I'll leave you ALIVE after I'm done with you."

Tony opened his mouth once, and then twice, but could see in the boy's eyes that Alex wasn't just making a threat – he could see in his eyes the death threat there, "You don't have the guts, boy – never have, never will."

"Step up or shut up, Tony – I'm tired of listening to you flap your gums; hell, I am just tired of you Period." Xander stepped forwards, loosening his arms slightly, "You're nothing more than a leech with the way you swooped in after mom and dad broke up, and yet you still think you're a man. Let me assure you, Anthony, you're nothing – not to me, not to mom, not even to our family."

Tony was seeing red when he lashed out at the boy, but his forward progress was soon used against him as the boy dodged out of the way and knocked his punch off to the side, sending him hurtling into the tool box he'd managed to filch away from his brother years before. Even as his eyesight was filled with sparkles of light, he rebounded from the hit and felt something slam directly into his back, right into his kidneys with enough force to drive the air out of his lungs and send him to his knees.

Dimly, Tony heard Alex speak, "You see, Tony, I don't need to fear you anymore, and neither does mom, and the reason that is, is because you are going to be leaving her alone … forever." Tony heard the boy grab something from the inside of the now-open tool box and then walk over towards him, before his head was yanked back, making him bend his back to keep his hair from being ripped out. He saw Alex's face at this point, and it was icy cold as he held up the big buck knife he kept in the garage for special occasions, "You see, Tony, I'd have no problems slitting your throat right now, I really wouldn't, but I'm not going to – I'm giving you a chance, which is more than you ever gave me or mom, and that's to get the hell out of Sunnydale, forever."

"Jessie and I … we're married, boy," he managed to spit out, but Alex's face never changed.

"Common law marriage, as there is no marriage license to be found – trust me, I checked. The house and car is in my mother's name, and the only thing with your name on it is the phone and light bills, things that are easily taken care of." Alex's grip on his hair tightened even more and Tony let out a pained squeal as he was arched back even more, "Now, Tony, I'm giving you twenty four hours as a head start – if you're still in Sunnydale after that, I'm going to arrange a meeting between you and some … gang members on PCP. You've heard of them, I'm sure," the boy went on casually as Tony felt his heart stop cold, "especially since you work for the city morgue, and you know that if I let them have you, you're just going to disappear like so many others."

Once he was done speaking to Tony, Xander let him go, the older man hitting the concrete floor with a meaty smack and a groan even as Xander folded the knife – before Halloween, he'd only dreamed of doing that, but now with Fly's training, not to mention his sheer balls, Xander felt he could get away with it as he folded the knife shut and put it back into the tool box. Tony had been nothing more than annoyance since that night, and now said annoyance was going to go away, "Oh, and Tony, don't think I make idle threats – you taught me that, remember? 'Always honor a threat' and then you broke my dad's guitar over my back."

"So, that is how the guitar was broken." He turned and saw his mother, still dressed in her nursing scrubs, standing in the doorway of the garage, her dark eyes, eyes he'd seen every time he looked in the mirror, narrowed in anger as she looked at the 'man' on the floor. She then looked up at him, her narrowed eyes slightly widening, "Alejandro, were you serious? Twenty four hours?"

He nodded, speaking back to her in her native Italian tongue, "(Yes, mother.)"

She responded in kind, "(Why so long? We've been waiting for this chance, and now you give him an entire day?)"

Xander just shrugged, "(It seemed only right – this way, he cannot complain about not having enough time.)"

"Damned Wops," Tony growled out as the two jabbered back and forth to each other. "Don't even speak American like the re-OOF!" The air rushed out of his lungs as the boy kicked him in the ribs hard enough to move him a few feet, though it felt as if he'd just caved in his chest.

Xander looked down at the cowed man, who was gasping for breath, "I'm sorry, Tony, but did you say something? I could have sworn I gave you 24 hours, and now you're down to 23 hours, 58 minutes and 15 seconds." He grinned as the man glared at him but got to his feet.

"This isn't over, boy – I'll have what is mine one day."

AN: Okay, that's it for this part – OOC on Xander's part in the last, yeah, I get that, but I can see it happening after a while. So, please, R&R, if you would – or I'll sick my own personal Dru on you, and while she has a pulse, she's just as batty.