Summary: Xander dies. Xander lives. Xander cops a lot of flak.
Crossover: AD&D Forgotten Realms
Disclaimer: I own all! *sounds of painful torture and lawyers barking* itaiiiiii.... I own nothing!
Feedback: Coin o' the Realm!
Pre-Fic Comments:
Alak is Xander. Xander is Alak. Alak is just what Xander was named when he was reincarnated.
* * *
Giles sipped at his tea the next day. "I've done some more research, and have found some weaknesses we can use to attempt to disable this drow character."
"I found some binding spells," Willow said.
"Great," Buffy said. "What's the sitch?"
"It seems he is almost blind during the daytime, and his weapons will not last long normally under sunlight," Giles said.
"That's it?," Willow asked. Giles nodded.
"Great," Buffy said. "Should I hunt him down now?"
"No, I think we'll wait for Angel to report back," the Watcher said.
* * *
Drusilla twisted about, wrists tied to a beam above her head in the basement. She had had to hold her position all day, shifting slowly as the beams of light moved according to the sun. In the corner, Xander slept in the storage container.
"Kitten? Dru wants to pet her black kittie..."
She whimpered, wanting Daddy to come save her.
* * *
Xander knew the gang would be at the library -- if he waited, Giles would eventually be there alone. So he sat on the roof, hidden by darkness, watching through the skylight until Buffy left for the Bronze, with Willow accompanying hir.
He moved back to ground level, then moved to the library, casting Quietus on the doors before moving through them. Xander remembered them as being rather noisy. Alak had no illusions that the Watcher would welcome him with open hands -- he had to establish a threat so that Giles would try to think, rather than reach for a stake.
Moving quietly behind the british man, he put a dagger against Giles' throat. He had no intention of doing anything, but Giles didn't know that.
"Don't move," Xander whispered. "I am going to move, and you are not going to shout or yell or anything like that. Agreed? Raise your hand if so."
Giles silently raised his hand. It was shaking slightly.
Xander put his dagger back inside his clothes. "Now. What do you know about reincarnation?"
The watcher, surprised at this question out of leftfield, responded automatically. "The spirit, rather than passing on, forgets all from it's life and is born again in another body. Rather simple."
"What if the spirit was possessed by a soldier on Halloween?"
Xander moved to sit across the table from Giles, flinching as Giles looked at him with an uncertain expression.
"A...are you..."
"Xander? Yeah," he responded. "It's been forty years for me, since Spike killed me..."
"Prove it." Giles voice firmed, his expression now neutral.
"Natalie French," Xander started. "Bug lady, seduced me into a cage in her basement. Buffy resuscitation--"
Giles waved him to a stop. "That's enough for me."
The British man leant over the table, hugging a stiffened Alak. "Welcome back! We were so worried!"
"Please don't do that," Xander quietly asked. It was going to be hard to overcome the habits of forty years.
* * *
Spike paced along the wall of the warehouse, thinking.
"No... can't do that... what about..."
"Master, should we hunt this fool?," a minion asked him.
Spike backhanded the idiotic ex-football player. "No, you idiot! The drow'll only stake her."
A voice sounded from the rafters. "Perhaps you need a drow to counter that drow, then."
Spike looked up. "Who're you, then?"
"A priest, and that is all you need know," the voice said. The man dropped to the ground.
He was clad in leather, a short sword sheathed at his waist. The leather jacket, loosely closed, revealed a purple shirt underneath with a medallion with an undistinct design on it. This priest was drow, his hair dyed red to match his eyes.
"Keep talkin', and maybe we can sort something out," Spike said, grinning.
He forgot something -- appearance is nothing.
* * *
Post-Fic Comments:
Yeah, this guy don't serve Lloth.