Disclaimer: All characters belong to their rightful owners...not me
Somehow, I had enough overlapping training and instinct from Private Harris accessible to 'The King' to keep Spike out of the Summers house, and even saved Cordelia. I'd convinced Willow to stay with us, and do the occasional recon outside. We passed the time playing the guitar and singing some of my/Elvis tunes, but mostly gospel and some ballads I/Elvis'd grown up on. And some of the looks I was getting from Ghost-Willow, Lady Buffy and 'Normal' Cordelia...hmmm.
The next day, I recovered again, this time finding I now had ALL of Elvis' memories up until his death, which, being a personal matter, will not be told.
But let me say two Substances for Depression... Bad... Anne-Margaret...Goooood.
However, I'd wondered who else might have been a soldier and real, and considering how I'd be able to keep 'my girls' even safer. Also, the music guy thing wasn't to be scoffed at either. But Willow looking at me like that...whoa
First thing after my commitment to self-improvement...research. Second thing, to get Willow to help me with research. A quick call yielded surprising results, Scooby meeting for two o'clock. This would cut things too close, so I asked her to meet me at ten to work her computer mojo. Uncharacteristically, Willow seemed to be a little shy about being around me...I guess she also had a little memory about my One-Stop Elvis Tour.
"Willow, honey," I intoned in my Elvis voice, "I'll bring the guitar skills if you'll bring the computer skills." She went quiet for a minute, then answered.
"I'll be there in ten minutes," she hurried, "no wait, half an hour, I need to get dressed in something better. Bye." It was only eighty-thirty.
Xander dressed in a tight white t-shirt, tucked in white button-down shirt, and slacks before simply taking the car keys and wallet off the side table near the door. Driving by a pawn shop, he pulled in when he remembered it had a large, fairly cheap selection of guitars and other materials. 'I guess with all the people dying, there's more stuff than people to buy it.'
The door ringing as he walked in, Xander noticed that he would be coming here quite often...guns, archery equipment, old albums, and even more instruments than what was in the two large windows.
"Can I help you young man?" the proprietor asked, an older Jewish man asked. "We have quite a selection, you know."
"Yeah, I'm looking for an electric guitar, a good one," Xander replied, "And don't I know you?"
"Hmmm," the older man asked, putting his glasses on to look closely at Xander, "Ah, yes. You're little Willow's friend, yes? I'm Hiram Goldberg, her mother's eldest brother. She was the youngest of twelve of us, you know."
"Oh, yeah," Xander replied offering his hand to the older gentleman, politely. "I'm El-exander Harris, sir."
"Ah, the Xander I've heard so much of, yes," he nodded with a sly look, "Well, you're almost family according to Willow." The man reached into the clear-doored cabinets behind him. "How much are you looking to spend?"
"Um, let me check my wallet," Xander demurred, looking into his father's wallet to find three hundred dollars from his father's cashed payroll check. "I only have three hundred dollars today, sir. What can I get for that?"
"Well, I have some decent enough brand names with an okay amp starting at that..." the old man considered, "What type of music are you going to play?"
"Oh, I'll probably start with Elvis tunes," Xander smiled, "I haven't really any musical knowledge beyond that."
"Well, why don't I sell you one of these," Hiram suggested, "and because you're Willow's Xander you can trade it back toward another at any time
at full price. How's that?"
"Thank you, sir," Xander replied, still off-balance about the change in his world view regarding Willow. "Thank you very much."
Xander pulled into the SHS parking lot at exactly nine o'clock, amazed that he's on time, but seeing Willow heading into the Library.
"Hey Wills!" Xander called out as he took the guitar and amp from the passenger seat, not adding a scratch to Giles' Citroen. HE noticed she was in full sundress mode, and smiled that he had an effect upon any one. "Nice dress."
"Xander, thanks!" the girl smiled, blushing, as they entered the library. "I-I just felt happy this morning."
"A happy Willow is the best Willow," Xander replied, then losing his thought, "er, Willow." He set his equipment down on the table as Giles and Buffy came out of the office.
"H-Hello Xander, Willow," the librarian greeted, "Buffy was just filling me in on the events of last night, odd though they were. Other than dancing and costumery of the time period, she retains nothing of note. And the two of you?"
"Nothing but a major scariness about the ghostness, Giles," Willow began, then smiled recalling the best part. "But I remember a certain 'King of Rock and Roll' singing and playing guitar quite well after he wounded Spike so bad he couldn't keep after us."
"Er, uh, Xander," Giles remarked, looking at what the young man had brought in, "I take it you perchance retain more?"
"Now that's right, Brit-Man," Xander replied with a pointing finger in a near-perfect Elvis impersonation considering it came out of the 'Xand-Man,' "And while I'm having Willow look some background info, I thought I'd practice, maybe keep the skills and have a hobby."
"W-well, let's hear what you have then," the Watcher replied, hoping for a 'young Elvis' after listening to Buffy's pop music far too often.
"Well, first I have to introduce you to Phil, the groundhog," Xander said, revealing the retrieved early in the wee hours friend. "Don't worry, Giles, I'll take him with me when I go." Xander smirked at his inside joke.
The next few hours were spent comfortably, Xander playing without too great a difficulty an endless repertoire of pre-1970s music, from country to gospel to blues to amusing Elvis versions of early 1970s hits. Willow turned up a few more soldier-singers and others, and Giles researched the types of magic involved with costumes, changes, possessions. Buffy trained, looked alternatingly awed and bored at Xander's talent, and called for pizzas at one point.
Xander looked at the list and whispered it, knowing it would be in the book next go-around, and wondered if he should be worried yet about the time-looping....
.......when of course he transitioned back to Yesterday half-dressed as the weatherman. Liking the music thing and the soldier skills, he decided he'd have a little fun while becoming a better Xander.
Repeating his grab and drive from before, Xander swung by the liquor store to pick up his Dad' usual case on the way home, where the old bastard had already started after finishing his early shift. Ducking into his room for a few things, including money, Xander grabbed the money out of his father's wallet, throwing it atop the case of booze to distract the man if he even thought of money.
Making his way out of the house unnoticed, Xander headed for Hiram's store, and convinced the man to rent him a much better guitar for a day.
He decided to skip the whole Snyder and school thing, opting to write himself a note and map of Sunnydale and his 'mission.' Pulling up to Ethan's, he walked in, dressed as a soldier and laing the guitar on the counter,
"Can I help you again, young man?" the annoyed chaos mage asked. "I'm just about to close."
"Yeah, man," Xander began, "I'm supposed to go to a costume party later for some boomers trying to relive their youth. I'll be playing some guitar, and thought I should probably make my fatigues and such look more like they would've then. Can you help me out?"
The shopkeeper, grimacing as he heard a car playing loud gangsta rap drive by, winced, then grinned evilly, "I think I have just the changes you need for 'balance,' my boy. Just wait here."
While waiting, he called Amy and asked her to meet him at 7PM, and remind him of the paper in his wallet.
The next morning, the Summers residence was in an uproar, all of which started with Dawn's shrill 13-year-old voice breaking the quiet.
"Mom!" she screamed in horror, "How could you!"
As figures moved freely in the living room, the Slayer jumped up from her bed, still clad in the slightly tattered remains of her costume. She charged into the hall, but her spidey-sense wasn't picking up anything even though Dawn backed away from her mother's bedroom door, slamming it in shock. Buffy charged forward, kneeling down to check on her little sister.
"Dawnie, are you okay?" the slayer asked her sister, "What's wrong?"
"M-Mom has a, a man in there, Buffy," Dawn whispered in horror. "Some one we know." Hearing the door start to open, both girls fled to the safety of downstairs, neither ready to face the sitch. Hurrying down the stairs, they heard guitar music playing, and found the living room turned into a chaos of musicians, instruments, Cordelia and the annoying couple from across the street in tie-dyeds, either sprawled around watching or starting to play again, picking up in volume. Willow and Amy came out of the kitchen, a bunch of waffle sandwiches in hand to feed the crowd.
"Hi guys," Cordelia beamed, still in her now-tailless catsuit, "Can you grab the other drinks from the kitchen? Thanks." The girls numbly nodded and heading back a moment later a disheveled Joyce Summers but still-dressed as a flower child from the party the night before, a relaxed but slightly embarrassed man clad only in faded jeans following down the stairs.
Ending an amazing riff with a nod to Oz to play freely, Xander called out from the 'stage' corner.
"Hey Ripper," the teen shouted, breaking the top of a whiskey bottle clean at the neck into a thoughtfully placed garbage can, the teen throws it with precision the twenty feet to the stairs. "Have another drink, man."
'Ripper' easily catches the bottle and starts to sip when he realizes Buffy and Dawn looking at him in shock, Joyce also.
"Rupert! I'm shocked at you drinking that like that!" Joyce glared at him, "Buffy, get him a glass before he cuts his mouth on that." Buffy faints and Dawn heads into the kitchen experiencing a giggling fit. Amy and the couple from across the street wave Joyce back as they move Buffy to the couch.
"I-I don't exactly know what to say," the librarian says, unsure of the situation. "Would you like some, er, Joyce?"
"I think she already had that, Rupert," Jenny purred laughingly as she came downstairs from the bathroom, neat Bourbon in her hands, "And Joyce, great idea moving the party here after all that craziness last night. And that remark about the glass, right on the target. Men never think."
Jenny headed over toward where Xander had started up again, winking at the teen as she closed her eyes and let the music play. Joyce started filling Giles' glass, looked at his chest, and filled the water glass to the top.
"What is it you British say," she sighed half in shock and half in appreciation, "in for a penny, in for a pound?"
Rupert quickly downed his drink, offered his arm, and they wandered out back of the house to...talk.
Around two o'clock, the police who'd been called around daybreak finally arrived at the Summers house in response to calls about sound. As luck would have it, is was the police chief himself, as the rest of the force was still cleaning up and covering evidence of Rayne's madness. Xander drunkenly but perfectly continued to play, and he remembered the Police Chief's words as he faded into the reset, "I haven't heard real rock guitar like that since I went to a concert in London back in '69. Until now, no one could play like Hendrix."