Summary: Dismay! Xander can't cast goodness?

Crossover: Bastard!!, Slayers

Disclaimer: I don't own Bastard!!, Slayers, or Buffy the Vampire Shagger. Although, if the respective owners want to swap for a couple of CDs that's fine.

Feedback: Yeah, baby!

Pre-fic Comments:

Thanks to those who commented on the previous bit.

Sorry, but there's gonna be quite a bit of exposition in this.

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A few days later found Xander stomping through the Library doors.

"Hey, G-man! I think there's something wrong," Xander yelled as he wandered into the normally silent library.

"Again, I must ask you to keep your voice down," Giles sighed as he left his office, cleaning his glasses. "This /is/ a library, after all."

Xander dug out the black leather bound spellbook, and brandished it in front of him with both hands. "Half the mojo in this is dead!"

"Er, what?," Giles asked. "Dead... mojo?"

"Kaput, fizzled," Xander expanded. "Doesna work."

"Really?"

"Want me to show you?," Xander offered.

"Er, please," Giles said. This was the first time he'd come across someone describing spells as dead.

Xander's face assumed a pose of concentration as he opened the spellbook. He raised one hand in mid-air, palm up.

"Star which passes through heaven's night skies, heed the ancient coven and the Earth, I pledge my life that he might be called forth! Ferrous Bleed!"

A brilliant arc of white light flashed in the library as Xander pulled his free hand upwards, cloaked in light. As the light faded, Giles waited.

"I-Is something supposed to..."

He went quiet as a flock of birds began tapping on the libraries window with their beaks. Distant doors rattled, as stray cats, dogs, and other animals tried to get to the Library.

"Oh. T-That seemed quite powerful, Xander, so I don't see what the problem is."

"That was to show you that yes, I can do magic," Xander said. "See, I learn stuff from science. This is one of those... you know... control experiments?"

"I see," Giles said, thinking. "That was black magic."

Xander nodded. "Want me to try something else, G-man?"

The British man nodded. Xander turned to another page, and raised his free hand again, palm upwards.

"Light, born from the flame; Gather to my hands and be my power. Lighting!"

A faint ball of light grew above his palm, barely noticeable above the Californian sun. After a minute, it went out.

Xander sighed. "That was with me putting everything into it."

"Oh, dear," Giles sighed. "And the previous one?"

"Hardly anything at all."

"Good Lord... any other spell types?"

"The only harmless Shamanistic spell I can think of offhand?"

"Indeed."

Giles watched as Xander muttered something he couldn't make out. His free hand, this time, was outstretched as if holding something.

"Bamu Rod!," Xander shouted at the end of the incantation. A long whip of fire appeared in the teenager's hand. Giles quickly took the spellbook off Xander, before it came into contact with the whip.

"Thanks, G-man," Xander smiled, as he inspected the whip. "Nifty, just the thing for killin' vamps."

"Rather," Giles agreed. "How much power are you using for this?"

"Some," Xander replied. "More than with that first spell, for sure."

"Hmmmmmmm," Giles vocalised as he mentally chewed over the evidence.

"And for those of us who don't speak Librarian, that means....," Xander trailed off.

"I think I know what might be the case," Giles said slowly.

"Don't hold out on me, G-man."

"Most people grow up with equal potential for all types of magic, be it dark or light. They might have equally low or equally high potential, but always even. As they practice magic, their strength in that type of magic grows at the expense of the other types, which typically atrophy due to disuse."

Xander nodded blankly. Hopefully Giles would get to the explanation part soon.

"Now, the Earth's mystical field is not evenly distributed," Giles continued. Xander was kinda half understanding this from the book -- he'd needed a working understanding of magic to even attempt those spells. "Some parts have an abnormally high level of white magic, like cathedrals and so on. Some have abnormal levels of shamanistic magic, like volcanoes, glaciers and so on. The people who grow up surrounded by these energies have a matching set of magical capabilities."

"Uhhhh," Xander began intelligently, "so it's because I grew up on the Hellmouth?"

"Quite," Giles said. In his own case, he had no magic to speak of as his white magic had atrophied during Ripper's reign, and he had voluntarily disposed of his black magic. "I suspect that the only reason that you are capable of shamanistic magic is due to the fact that California exists on top of a fault line -- the power that builds up in faultlines is quite potent."

"Great," Xander slumped. "Just great."

He opened his hand, and the whip of fire burnt itself to nothing as it fell to the floor.

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Post-fic comments:

Please, feel more than free to comment on the theories expounded by Giles.