CH 1: Rouge from X-Men Evolution
A Different Garrison
Xander sighed as he watched the laughing kid walk off with the last gun. Eyeing what was left to pick from he wasn't too sure he could cobble something acceptable together on such short notice.
Ethan eyed the teenager with a calculating eye. Now anyone who knew him could tell you that he loved a good spot of chaos. What most dind't know though, was that he knew he had to balance what was going to happen. So while there would be plenty of darker chaos being on the hellmouth, he still needed to tip the scales back towards 'good' a bit.
The amount of chaotic potential coming off the boy was promising.
"Hello, lad. You look to be in a spot of trouble. Instead of going as an average soldier, how about one that's part of an elite garrison?"
He saw the boy's interest pick up and went about cementing him to the idea.
"Xander, you look nice. Who are you supposed to be?"
He stood tall and straight rather than in his usual slouch. Neatly ironed dresser shirt and slacks were a flattering contrast to his usual slouch, hair brushed back, brilliant blue contacts and topped off with a trench coat.
"An undercover agent for an elite garrison, Mrs. Summers."
"Willow, what's going on? Why is Buffy unconscious?"
Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a movement, brushing it off when he noticed it was Xander. Willow on the other hand looked horrified.
"Xander no!"
"Get away demon!"
Angel screamed as he was reduced to ash the moment the being in Xander's body touched him.
"Oh no, no. Kitten is gone, instead there are Feathers of Thursdays. Mustn't go out, mustn't go out. Burned Daddy all to ash and didn't even know. Kitten isn't kitten, now Feathers of Thursdays."
Spike felt an unnatural chill go up his spine. Something was going to start hunting them.
He was an outcast now. They understood that he hadn't killed Angel, or rather finished his death, but the being that had taken him over. It still hurt Buffy to see his face and see the face of her Angel's killer.
Angel. Now there was a twisted irony.
Brilliant blue eyes that almost glowed from the inside surveyed the town from his perch, trench coat flapping in the breeze.
His new partner used to guard a set of hunters. He'd guard his girls now with the same ferocity. They weren't perfect, but that just made them human. There had to be a reason almost everything stuck from Halloween. Maybe here he could do some real good like the brothers had taught him. With a new faith he looked towards the sky at the fading light.
Father had a plan, he was sure.
A soft rustle like the sound of feathers and the lookout was empty once more.