3?

AN: And now, for the question of Dru's apparent lateral transfer in the respect of Vampirism. Be advised, there will be some murky spots in this – if you want more explanation, tell me via reviews and I'll explain them as well as I can (working theory, right now).

AN2: Slight Highlander cannon futch – Richie is dead, but only by about seven months or so.

Xander coughed to clear his chuckles and then looked closer at the man who David Hasselhoff looked a great deal like, "Um, I thought the Clan Cappadocian was supposed to be deathly pale, like Dru is?"

'David' gave him a smile even as Buffy cleared her own chuckles, "Yes, we are – witness the marvels of modern cosmetics." He drew his fingers down one of his cheeks and wiped away the makeup, showing the chalky skin beneath before looking back at him, "Now then, with that out of the way, we can get to why I brought my Childe here."

Buffy, however, had other plans, "Hold on – how can Drusilla be your Childe? She was turned by Angelus almost two hundred years ago."

David nodded, "True, but Slayer, there are more things and methods between heaven and earth than are known to your Watchers; you see, with her soul in place, not to mention the fact that she had regained a great deal of her sanity at the time, Drusilla came to Las Angeles and began to look for our kind, the Kindred. After a while, she did indeed find our kind, but she found the Nosferatu, and after earning their trust, they pointed her in our direction in order to find her way back towards Humanity."

"But Clan Cappadocian was nearly exterminated 800 years ago," Xander chipped in, raking his memories for what information he could find, but there was not a lot of it, "and even then they were rather … selective in their choosing of someone to Embrace."

David nodded at his even as Buffy looked confused, "True, but remember that one can only look into the depths of the Abyss for so long before longing for Final Death themselves. One of the oldest Elders in our clan longed for such and, after completing several tasks for us, Drusilla was granted dispensation from Prince Luna to drain our Elder into Final Death."

Buffy held up a finger, "So … she drained this person all the way into dust, presumably, and … and this makes her Kindred?"

"Possibly," David allowed. "It has never been tried to Embrace a revenant 'vampire', and while turning a Kindred into revenant is rather simple, we are not sure if Drusilla was completely Embraced by the blood."

Drusilla spoke up, "Kitten … I need blood, the blood of an Immortal, to ensure that this transformation is permanent."

"What?" Buffy looked at him, "But you said you were Kindred!"

David nodded, "She is, Slayer, but there is something else that needs to be addressed – both Slayer and Immortal vitae is highly prized for both its staying power and its granted abilities. Slayer blood is highly sustaining and lasts a long time, but it is also highly addictive and grants extreme physical enhancements that do not often sit well with the one who has feasted upon it, which is why its consumption is strictly forbidden. Immortal blood is not as addictive, but it has the unfortunate side effect of occasionally driving the taker of the blood into the waiting arms of passion that cannot be … easily quenched. With some of his Immortal blood, however, Alexander will not only shore up some of Drusilla's admittedly shaky mental foundations, but to cement her transformation to Kindred," David explained to Buffy even as Dru drew closer to him.

"Kitten, you know I would never harm you, not after what … what I have done in my past," Dru said, staring right into his eyes. He knew, deep within his soul, that she would not put her mind whammy on him, and nodded, "And do you also know that if this does not work, that I do become a revenant again, I will be hunted and destroyed."

"I know." Xander stepped back and looked at David, "If Dru gets caught in this Uber-horny state, what happens?"

David coughed, and Buffy blushed a bright red as Dru looked down, slowly drawing the toe of her boot through the grass, looking quite embarrassed as her sire spoke, "Ah, well, it will be … taken care of, by another source. May she have your blood, Alexander?"

Xander looked first at David, then at Buffy, and finally at Dru, "Do you prefer it out of a blood bag or from direct withdrawal?"

Dru smiled slightly, "Alexander, this must be done directly." He nodded and approached her, which she mirrored and she then hugged him closely, nestling her face into the crook of his neck, but then raised up to his ear, "This may hurt for a moment, but not for long." He felt her cool tongue trace along his neck even as his hands instinctively drew her closer and then winced in pain as her fangs pierced his skin, but then all was bliss and euphoria.

(Away)

Buffy, for her part, had to look away even as she heard Dru moan in sumptuous pleasure as she drew blood from Xander's neck – every instinct in her body was screaming at her to go over there and to rip Dru's head off, but she stopped herself with the thought that Xander had chosen to do this willfully, and that she'd last about ten seconds before he ripped her head off for unmaking one of his choices.

"He will be fine, Slayer," David purred at her even as he watched his Childe drink from an Immortal. "In fact, he'll be more than fine – being fed from by Kindred is often akin to a nigh-orgasmic experience for the one providing the vitae."

Buffy glared at him, "Hey, just because some guy gets his rocks off or a girl gets wet from a vamp bite doesn't mean we all do!"

He gave her a prime look at her rather blunt descriptions, "Do not let your feelings for young Alexander cloud your judgment, Slayer – his mind, actions and decisions are on another level from what you could possibly imagine, even as a Slayer. More to the fact, HE is on another level that you cannot comprehend."

Buffy just snorted, "Hey, I get that he's an Immortal – bid freaking deal."

David narrowed his eyes at her, "It is a 'big freaking deal', Slayer, with as many allies and enemies that he will find that he has around the world within the demonic and Kindred communities. Unlike you, who is considered to be a rather ruthless, indiscriminate killer of all things non-human, Alexander's reputation has already spread that he is not only a rather … gifted … fighter, but also as someone who will go to the wall for his friends and allies, and will not stop against his enemies – were it not for the fact that he is Immortal, there would be near open warfare among the Clans for the opportunity to Embrace him." David shuddered at this thought, which made Buffy stop, "As bad as things are now within the demonic community, should Alexander have been Embraced by some of our darker-natured Clans, I dare say that Hell would have indeed been brought to Earth, with or without your help, Slayer."

"That is true, Sire," Dru said, wiping her lips clean from Xander's blood, who stood next to her, facing away as he shook slightly. Dru had a rather dreamy look on her face, as if she was the Drusilla of old, but Buffy could feel her completely fading from her Slay-dar to the point that she was like David, a completely void, "My Alexander has many friends, he does, but many enemies who would want to hurt him. Many within the Clans wish to try and Embrace him, with or without his consent, which is why we are here. With this blood, though, I can now help him when I can."

Buffy ignored Drusilla, though, and looked at Xander, who still quivered slightly, "Xander? Are you … okay?"

"Peachy," he replied in a slightly strangled voice, but he coughed once, and then twice, before speaking again, "with a side of keen."

Buffy blinked at that and filed it away for future reuse even as Xander adamantly stayed facing away from her, "So, why no looking?"

"Full Mast," was the only reply she got, but it was from Drusilla, who had a particularly fond smile on her face even as David coughed and Xander gave a strangled grunt. "Either way, we must go, Slayer. Good evening, Kitten." With that, both Drusilla and her Sire faded from view and Xander walked away, leaving Buffy with more questions than answers.

(Later That Week)

Joyce groaned once again as she watched Xander muscle one of her statues into place at her gallery – she had conscripted him the night before with a tin of brownies to help her move an arrangement of items from the back room into a new exhibit, and even as he worked now she was pondering the benefits of Immortality even as her rather unintended help, Amanda, called out another question from the office to Xander. The pair of them had been drawing up papers all night and morning, from what Buffy had told her, that had Xander working for someone that Amanda knew, but outside of the oddly familiar answer of 'Celtic Emporium and Imports', Joyce was as in the dark as everyone else was when the pair started 'talking shop'.

Joyce found her musings, though, come to an abrupt halt as Amanda ran out of the office and Xander yelped, stumbling for his jacket even as a pair of men walked through the front of her art gallery – the first was a little taller than average, with a thin, wiry build, and while his pale skin and short, dark hair made him striking, his nose stuck out like a hawk's beak, which added to his rather comedic air as he bantered with his companion. The second was taller, and while no leaner than the first, had a bulkier build, an almost weathered tan to his skin and shorter brown hair as he sighed … a sigh that Joyce placed as her mind gave him longer hair, "Duncan MacLeod?"

"Joyce?" He looked rather startled even as his companion stepped forwards to greet her, a smile on his face, but that smile faded as there was a slight snarl from one side and Xander put himself between them, "M … Adam, be careful."

Xander had his blade level with the thin man's throat, "Back off, boyo."

The man held his hands up in the classis 'don't hurt me' pose, his face a mystery as he spoke, "Very well, young man. I had no intention of harming this fair flower," he went on in a cultured British accent, but this did nothing to lessen Xander's rather protective nature of her – it was rather sweet with the way that the young Immortal always checked on her before she went to bed and then several times a night as he either returned from patrol or made a circuit around the house, but since he was the reason for her abduction, Joyce figured that Xander was doing this more to alleviate his guilt on top of his own natural protective nature. Jenny had made mention of it once, as had Willow and a rather petulant Buffy, and while he still joked about still 'wanting to act out that scene', Xander apparently did it out of pure instinct nine times out of ten.

"Xander," Amanda said calmingly as she put away her rapier, "calm down. That's Methos, and Duncan – I've told you about them, remember? They're the good guys."

"Ah, Mandy!" Adam / Methos exclaimed happily as he swooped down and hugged the dark-haired Immortal woman tightly before bussing her on each cheek, "So good to see you again, Mandy."

Amanda just sighed disgustedly as something that sounded suspiciously like a muffled choke of laughter came from Duncan, "Not you too! Xander, look at what you've started – now Methos will NEVER leave me alone!"

"Indeed," 'Methos' purred even as he turned to Xander, who had not put away his sword. "So, this is the intrepid Alexander – a pleasure to meet you, old boy."

Xander, Joyce could see, wasn't exactly accepting of the seemingly genuine expression of welcome, "Methos? Heard about you – supposedly you have a beer tab that rivals the national debts of most third world countries, from what Amanda tells me." Joyce cocked an eyebrow at the man as Amanda giggled and Duncan didn't even bother to muffle his laughter this time.

Methos, however, didn't even miss a beat, "True, but from what I hear from Man … Amanda," he gave the Immortal woman a worried look before going on, "you inhale most Hostess snack cakes and have more comic and science fiction lore packed away in your mind than any geek imaginable."

Xander just shrugged as he lowered his blade a little more, "Well, when you find something you're good at it pays to be the best." While he may have lowered his blade, Joyce could tell by the total lack of emotion in Xander's voice that he didn't trust 'Methos' one bit.

"So, Duncan … how long have you been an Immortal?" The Immortal in question looked rather unprepared for the question as he gaped for a second, but Joyce went on, "I mean, you're obviously an Immortal with the coat and what appears to be the hilt of a katana in there, and all that I have heard, not to mention how Amanda and Xander have reacted to you not to mention that you haven't aged a day since …" Joyce stopped her mild imitation of what Xander and Buffy termed as 'Willow-babble', blushing lightly as Xander looked at her fondly and smiled.

"Nice imitation, Joyce – now all you have to do is to speed it up by three times and you're dead on."

Duncan looked rather impressed as well, but shook his head as if to clear it, "Joyce … um, well, this is rather … unexpected."

Amanda, though, cut off his hedging, "How long have you known Joyce, Darling?"

Joyce noticed that both Methos and Xander winced and moved away quickly from the pair as Duncan continued to hem and haw slightly, "Um, well, actually Joyce and I met back the mid-seventies, while she was attending college, Amanda – I … I was guest lecturing at her college for the semester in European Studies and we became friends, that's all, I swear!"

Joyce looked at Duncan oddly even as both Xander and Methos had coughing fits, though while the former added in a 'weak' into his coughs, the latter added in a 'bull shit', both of which she rather primly ignored as Amanda brought her rapier up, "He's telling the truth, Amanda – we never even kissed!"

Amanda glared at Duncan for a moment before putting her rapier away, "Very well, the matter is tabled … for now. So, Duncan, what brings you and the beer-monger here?"

Methos made as if to look insulted, but that failed horribly and he sighed, "Well, Amanda darling, we are here to check up on you and your student's progress – it's not every day that a newbie with less than two months and a head under his belt takes a Terakan Assassin, after all." Methos looked at Xander and Joyce could tell that the man was sizing him up for something, "Tell me, boy, how ever did you manage to do it? That particular Immortal had over a hundred heads to his name …"

Xander, for his part, didn't look particularly impressed as he fingered the ring that was on his right hand, "I cheated – he took Joyce prisoner, which made it personal."

Duncan's face darkened slightly, "You broke The Rules?"

Before Xander could say anything, though, Amanda stepped between them, "Hold it, you two – look, we could argue semantics and 'what if' scenarios all day and all night long, but we'd get to the same issue of every Immortal being different. Besides, Duncan, I'm teaching him the right way now – let it rest." Amanda turned to her by then, "Now, for some introductions – Joyce, you know Duncan, but this is Adam Pierson, who likes to go by Methos for some reason or another. Boys, this is my student, Alexander 'Xander' Harris – Xander, this is Adam and this is Duncan, the beer-monger and Highlander, respectively."

Joyce watched as Xander eyed both men warily at first before nodded and walking over and putting his sword away, "Welcome to the Summers Art Studio, gentlemen; might I enquire as to your being here? Business or pleasure?"

Amanda gave Xander a look, "Be nice!"

"Sorry, Amanda – must be my Irish temper." Duncan looked up at this and Joyce could see some of the hairs going up on the back of his neck as Methos snickered quietly.

"Xander," Joyce warn him, using her Hellmouth-famous 'Mother' tone, and it had the desired results – all hostility, smarminess, belligerence and attitude was gone from Xander's face and posture in 1.45 seconds, a new personal best for her, if Joyce did say so herself.

(Later)

As Amanda and Duncan argued with each other about the placement of a small urn in an equally small display, Xander found himself hard-pressed not to like the man, the legend, known as 'Methos' – Amanda had used his name several times by accident, saying 'Adam'-this and 'Methos'-that before explaining herself away, which made things a lot clearer until he met the man himself. Quite frankly, Xander was a little disappointed to find that the man who was supposedly 5000 years old and one quarter of the reason there was a Book of Revelations was exactly like he was before he became Immortal, only with a bigger nose – he hid himself in plain sight by acting the buffoon, by making light when others were set upon being serious, and only when the backs of the others were turned did you ever see the real person beneath the mask … someone who would scare them all into thinking he was a demon in and of himself.

"Tell me, Xander, how we talked into this," Methos asked as he shifted the last statue into place.

"You were making cow eyes at Joyce and she conned you into it hook, line and sinker." Xander had been forcibly restrained by Amanda to not stab Methos in the back when he had started to blatantly flirt with Joyce, but when she had not reciprocated in kind, he had become rather petulant.

"Ah, protective of her, I see." Methos was also, apparently, the originator of the con artist in them all as he tried to manipulate Xander's own feelings into a fashion that he could use, "Maybe she likes older men."

"No, she likes them about her age, not Bronze Age. Besides, why would she go for you when she could have youth and vigor?"

Methos gave him a look, "Because she wants experience and patience, young one – hell, if I felt like it, I could draw you up a copy of the Kama Sutra." He looked rather pleased with himself as he straightened up, "My tenth wife and I had fun making that book, we really did." Xander gave him a rather disturbed look that he appeared to cheerfully ignore, "But trust me, it was hell on my back."

"Alright, TMI, ROG."

Methos gave him a look, "'ROG'?"

"Really Old Guy."

"Bloody Americans …" Methos swore under his breath even as Xander patted himself on the back and marked up one on his imaginary chalkboard, which had his one and twenty others for Methos. "For that, I'm dating Joyce."

"Thank you for your attention, 'Adam'," Joyce put in suddenly, her eyes narrowing as the door to the art gallery opened, "but I am not into older men – that's my daughter's deal."

"MOM!" Xander suppressed a smirk at Buffy's screech of horror as Amanda giggled and Joyce smiled, knowing her daughter was there even without turning around, but both Methos and Duncan looked at Joyce expectedly as she giggled away.

When it became apparent that introductions were coming from Joyce, Xander stepped up to the plate, "Duncan, Adam, meet Buffy (bottle blonde), Willow (my gingi), and Giles (the occasionally stuffy Brit) – guys, meet Duncan MacLeod, of the clan MacLeod and Adam Pierson." Xander received three glares from the appropriate parties involved in his naming game, but he blithely ignored them all as Amanda walked up to him, "So, now that the pleasantries are over, why don't you tell us why you're really here?"

Duncan sighed this time, turning to Amanda, "I take it you've heard about Richie?"

Amanda nodded, her eyes suddenly moist, "Yes, I heard he was killed."

Duncan nodded at this and took a deep breath, "Amanda … I killed him."

There was dead silence in the room for over a minute – Xander had heard of 'Richie' from Amanda, how he had a nose for trouble bigger than Xander's own, and was an accomplished young thief, but while Amanda had liked him greatly, he was still a little green for Amanda's taste. It had hurt Amanda to learn of his death, and now that Duncan had admitted to it, Xander could only snort, "Typical."

"What do you mean, 'Typical'?" Duncan's voice held a hard edge to it even as his face flushed with color.

"Your student, your friend, your protégé, by all accounts, is killed by your own hand – tell me, was it an accident, or was it on purpose?"

"A demon known as Ahirman … he was playing with my mind – I didn't know it was Richie until it was too late."

The loss and sorrow in Duncan's voice was palatable, but it didn't faze Xander at all, "Again, typical – the one person who had a hope in hell of ever beating you is dead by your own hand. Truth?"

Duncan glared at him as the others looked on in astonishment, "Boy, do not speak to me like that! You have no idea what it is like to have someone play with your mind, to have no idea if what you do is of your own actions or if it's because someone else is pulling your strings."

Xander just gave him a rather twisted smile as he grabbed his jacket, "Oh, I know all about having my strings pulled, Highlander – the question is, who is pulling your strings now? Do I believe you didn't mean to do it? Yes, I do – do I care … not yet." With that, he flipped his coat on and walked away from the art studio, wondering just what in the hell had gotten into him.

(Telephone wire across from Studio)

Had Xander been looking, he would have seen a raven sitting and watching the entire conversation go down – had he been really looking, he would have been able to see into the raven's eyes and see the face of the warlock who was using the raven as a familiar, as a remote viewing source. Had anyone bothered to notice beyond that, they would have heard the laughter of one Richard Wilkins the Third as he skillfully manipulated Xander's mind into goading the Immortal Highlander – that is, of course, if anyone had bothered to look, which they didn't.

AN: Alright, that's it for this part – had a little fun in setting up some goodies for the next few chapters, but now comes the hard part in getting the others to realize that there is something seriously wrong with Xander … only he doesn't know it yet. RR, please – AR.