Disclaimer in Chapter One - No Teachers, No Help, No Feelings, No Crying
Additional Disclaimer: Thirteen by Big Star was written by Alex Chilton and Christopher Bell and Published by Universal Music Publishing Group.

Author's Notes 1: So after this chapter is posted I am now playing catch up, i.e. the next chapter isn't finished yet. I probably shouldn't even be posting this but again I wanted it out there because of some of the comments in the reviews I'm getting (the comments aren't bad, in fact I love them, keep 'em coming!), but some of you are too smart for your own good!

#Hello# = Singing


"What?!" Xander almost screamed. "You restrained her? You put her in chains?"

"Yes." Giles told the man. "Rouge Slayer Protocol."

"Rouge Slay-Idiot!" Xander spat. "Didn't you read her file? Do you have any idea what that will do to her? What she's been through?"

"Her file?" Giles looked puzzled.

"Yeah, her file! She was my Slayer after all, her badge is XH-5309."

"You found her?" Giles stared at the man, the number telling him instantly who found her and when.

"I rescued her!" he corrected. "You have to release her. Get the chains off her before she breaks down."

"And why would she break down?"

"Because of her idiot, religious, bigoted, abusive Grandfather!" Xander yelled at the Senior Watcher. "Pastor Adams," he scoffed. "If I didn't already mistrust men of the cloth, him and his family would have done it. He had her locked up for three years in his compound's basement because he thought she was a dirty girl, the last two years of which she was plagued with Slayer dreams. Only she didn't know what they were, she thought she was evil, a child of the devil.

"Every day the Pastor would fill her and her family's heads with talk of fire and brimstone, sin and temptation of the flesh, and how the reckoning was coming, so they all better be the best little Christians they could be!" he shook his arms in mock joy before placing them together in prayer. "Telling them all women were dirty from birth, only there to tempt men away from God. And if she even dared to speak up for herself, well, there was gonna be hell to pay, literally!

"Every night she would dream of girls being eaten, mutilated, killed, and not once did she think the girls had power. She thought SHE was the monsters in the dreams, not the Slayers. You have to release her, or all the hard work I've done to get her to open up will be for nothing..."

"Why would she be assigned to you?" Giles asked.

"Because I get the screwed up ones." Xander hung his head. "I get the difficult girls, the ones on the brink, I bring them back into the light."

"And why would that be?" Giles questioned.

"Because I know what it's like, I fell to the dark, to the inner hate and pain... I was HIS servant." he said in barely a whisper.


He shifted his weight in the crate, cursing the name of the pathetic underling who had made it to house him and his dirt. Small cracks of light moved every now and then across his sad face as he was moved, forcing him to flinch every now and then for fear it was sunlight. He had wanted to be shipped home in the crate he had arrived in, but it had been destroyed prematurely, a misfortune that pained him greatly. His Manservant had made it for him. Hand crafted from the finest oak, craved with precision and passion, it was more a work of art then a mere crate. And it was a gift. The last he had received from his most favourite Slave.

A parting gift from a Student to his Master. And they had destroyed it. For what? Security? What could he do with a crate full of dirt that he could not do himself already?

He had felt peace for the first time in well over a thousand years with his last servant, for he had not had one like him since. Somewhere deep down in his shrivelled, still, undead heart he held a place for him, something he would not admit freely. And yet, that did not trouble him as much as he thought it would. Yes, he could feel affection for things, for a virgin or two, the smell of the hunt, the sisters three, the Slayer, before she had staked him twice, and finally it seemed for his former Manservant, Xander.

But something did trouble him.

A feeling, one he had not felt that long before. It had happened after the service, as he watched the dirt placed over the coffin that housed his Manservant. He had stood over the open grave muttering to himself as the hole was slowly filled. The canopy he had been forced to shelter under for the service had been shifted per his request to be closer to the burial. Before the box had disappeared fully from view he had added his own earth into the final resting place. One handful of Transylvanian dirt, so his Manservant could find his way back to him one day.

He stayed, the rest of the mourners leaving soon after the coffin had been lowered. He stayed and watched the earth being packed down, his head hung low. He did not want to stay, he knew he would not be welcome, he rarely was, his only excuse to being here gone forever. But the feeling was there, at the back of his mind. A pull. And not just one, two pulls. He had rubbed his temples, trying to clear his mind. Maybe it was a blood problem...

Or a lack there of.

He looked around himself, his eyes flashing yellow as he looked for a morsel to sample. The two slayers tasked with guarding him was his first choice, but he knew his Manservant would not approve. He frowned to himself as that thought occurred to him, before it turned into a smile as he thought of the man who had become a friend. In the end his gaze fell to the two caretakers who were tending to the grave site.

"Excuse me young man," he said waving a hand towards the closest caretaker. "Would you care to help me?"

The caretaker had stopped his work, the shovel going slack in his hand. "Yes my Lord..." he said faintly, walking slowly to the dark Vampire. "How could I be of asssssssistance..."

"I am pained... The Thirst... Rises..." Dracula began, the caretaker moving slowly forward, opening his shirt collar and moving his head to the side, his neck exposed.

A fist snapped into view, catching the vampire in his open mouth, forcing him back, his thrall over the caretaker broken instantly.

"Hands off Drac!" Angel snarled, standing before the old Vampire. "No biting allowed here, you're a guest."

"Angelo..." Dracula smiled, licking a hint of blood from his split lip. "A pleasure, as always."

"Vlad." Angel nodded.

"I will admit, he would not have been my first choice..." Dracula sneered. "Unless you have a young, nubile virgin handy?" When Angel rolled his eyes he continued. "I thirst, therefore I drink..."

Angel sighed, reaching into his long coat. "I thought you might. Here." he said producing a medical blood bag from his pocket.

"Ah..." Dracula accepted the bag. "From your own private reserve?"

He bit into one end of the bag, breaking the seal and drinking deeply. His eyes shot open as he spit the mouthful of blood he had consumed.

"Swine!" Dracula snarled. "You give me dirty blood!"

"It's pig's blood or nothing Vlad." Angel crossed his arms.

"The Slayers should respect their betters." Dracula grumbled as he fed, fighting hard not to gag as he choked down the poor excuse for food.

As he was sucking the very last of the foul liquid he was hit with the feeling again, only this time one of the pulls he felt was different, he sensed, Danger? Confusion? And then... Nothing.

"How long you staying in town Vlad?" Angel turned a serious look to the older Vampire.

"My Manservant is fresh underground and you want me to leave?" Dracula sneered. "I am not welcome now he has gone?"

Angel let out an unneeded sigh, rubbing his forehead as he looked at the Master Vampire. "No, that's not what I meant."

"Then perhaps you wanted to know how long I must have this pathetic pair of Slayers guarding me and following me around as I grieve!" Dracula growled and waved the empty blood bag at the two Slayers that stood twenty paces away in the sunlight, stakes in their hands, watching the dark Vampire with eagle eyes. He thumped his chest before throwing the blood bag to the ground. "Am I not allowed to mourn in peace?" He snarled, turning back to the fresh grave with a flourish of his cape.

"I'm sorry," Angel closed his eyes and shook his head while mentally sighing a 'Why me?'. "Yes you can stay as long as you want, it's just that... Your crate of dirt..."

But what was done was done... What could he do?

He could have ripped the throats out of the fools who destroyed his crate, but that was not what his manservant would have wanted. No matter how much joy it would have given him.

Dracula mused to himself, his fingers moving at his sides through the remaining dirt that had been saved. He had performed the magic himself. He had waited at the grave... But nothing. Nothing but the strange feeling he still felt in the direction of the Slayers compound.

He gasped.

He was an idiot.


Stan drove the pickup fast. Anything to get away from that weird school for girls. He needed a new delivery route.

Sure, at first it was great.

Drive on down to the school, perve on all the ladies that worked there, and some of the students if he was being honest with himself, pick up or drop off, perve some more, deliver the package to wherever it was gonna go.

Simple.

Then the weirdness started.

Driving through campus and seeing classes of girls fighting each other, running drills, weapons training, with freaking Swords! Then the predatory looks he got from some of the teachers, not to mention the looks from some of the students... Or that one British dude with the glasses, or the guy with the One Eye who had threatened to beat him with a shovel and bury his body under the rose bushes if he kept leering at the girls.

Then there was the packages themselves.

Sometimes they were ok, couple boxes of books, loads of lumber, some furniture, which they seemed to go through a lot, when Stan had brought it up one day he just got a cryptic "Girls will be girls" and a "things break". But then there was the other stuff, medical supplies up the wazoo, strange smelling herbs and powders, crates that clanged and jangled like they contained large silverware, boxes marked 'tactical' or 'armour' or 'explosive' and 'handle with care' or 'artefacts contained within, open at own risk!'.

And then there was today. Just a day after he had delivered an intricately carved box that looked more like a coffin and felt like it contained dirt, he was picking up and delivering to the airport a crudely made box that looked like a cheap coffin that had dirt falling out of it from between a couple slats of wood in the base and lid. To say Stan had the wiggins was an understatement. He was at full on hair at the back of the neck standing on end, goosebumps, somebody crawling on your grave wigging out!

He looked up at the rear view mirror and to the large crate behind him. "Man, I got to get a better route," Stan grumbled to himself. "This is bullish-!"

At that exact moment a pale fist burst through the top of the crate, dirt flying out as the hand instantly began to smoke before being pulled back in, the box letting out an animalistic growl.

Stan slammed on the brakes, his eyes wide in terror as he yelled "Augh! Bomb!"

As the pickup came to a screeching halt, Stan watched in the mirror as the hole got bigger in the crate, more dirt bursting forth. He swivelled in his seat to look out the back window and almost had a heart attack, as the wood was being broken he could see a man with long dark hair and dressed in black robes, forcing his way out, smoke rising faintly from the man. Stan turned around and looked into the mirror again, the scream on his lips dying in his throat as he didn't see anyone, just the box exploding open.

He turned around again and the man was slowly dissolving before him, rising up into a dense fog. The fog seemed to waft back and forth in the bed of the truck before slipping over the lip and to the ground below. Without thinking Stan opened his door and looked out at the ground. The fog was solidifying this time, but not as a man, but as a large grey Wolf, as big as a Great Dane if he was to guess.

As if on cue the Wolf turned its big head around to face him and growled out, "Return my dirt to the Slayersss..."

"H-Huh?" Stan stammered.

"The crate," the Wolf huffed, pointing its head at the broken box in the back of the truck. "Return it from where you picked it up, I have decided to stay" it growled.

All Stan could do was nod quickly, his voice nonexistent after the wolf actually spoke. The wolf gave one last growl and turned back and ran, at what Stan could only call a fast gallop, back to the School.

"Yep!" Stan said when he had regained his voice. "I definitely need a new route!" He lamented as he slammed his door closed, started the pickup and turned around, speeding for the school and the wolf that was headed its way.


"I said I fell into the bottle after S-Day," Xander looked up at Giles.

"Yes," the Watcher stared at the man.

"Well, that's kinda true..." He rubbed the back of his head, a familiar feeling returning to his mind, a part of him grateful at its presence. "I also kinda wound up at Dracula's Castle. Apparently I was never really released from his thrall and service back in the day."

"The same thing happened to our Xander." Giles let out before catching himself.

"Yeah, well, while I was self loathing and drinking myself into a stupor over losing Anya, apparently Drac felt my pain and called me to him. It was two months till you guys found me and another couple months till I willingly left his side." Xander smiled sadly to himself, that feeling at the back of his mind growing stronger as he continued to talk. He just hoped it would be drawn to Kate too. "At first it was mostly bug eating and helping him with the slow seductions of virgins... But then it began to change, he helped me, prepared me to live again..." He raised his hands and traced the tattoos on one of his hands with his fingertips. "But I did things, things I'm not proud of, things that tainted me... Even though its been more than a decade since he came to Sunnydale, every once and a while I'll find myself back on his doorstep..."

"Our Xander always managed to resisted when Dracula called him again." Giles supplied with a hint of pride in his voice.

"Lucky him..." Xander looked up at Giles, trying to convey his meaning with his eye. "So now I help the lost Slayers, the damaged ones. So when I say to go get MY Slayer out of cuffs, I mean it!" He raised his voice at the end.

"Why would we do that?" Giles said calmly. "You just said you were in league with the Dark Lord."

"He's not Voldemort, and I'm NOT in league with him! Release her!"

"Who are You?" Giles banged his fist on the table.

"I'M XANDER HARRIS..." He yelled, banging his fists on the magical barrier before him. "NOW RELEASE KATI-Augh!"

Xander's body convulsed again as he heard the familiar *Phft, Click, Click, Click* and a sharp pain in his left shoulder. He felt the hit in the back of his shoulder, the pain fading as the electrical current flowed through him. He slumped forward onto his face falling against the magical barrier of his cage. As the clicking noise died down he saw Giles look over his shoulder in shock.

"You didn't have to do that!" Giles raised his voice.

"It was trying to break out!" A female voice replied.

"N-No!" Xander groaned a little louder then he meant to. "I wasn't F-Faith..." He turned around, his body finally responding to his own commands.

Faith stood in a defensive stance, her right hand out in front of herself, her own taser raised, the wires deployed, now attached to his shoulder. Her hair was still in the ponytail he had seen it in before, but now she was in Slayer mode, leather pants, a wife beater with a dark jacket over the top, the tasers holster on one hip, a stake and a knife on the other. He knew there were more knives he couldn't see, the thought causing him to frown.

"Please Faith..." He groaned. "It's me, Xand-"

"Don't!" Faith snapped. "You don't say that name!"

"Faith..." Giles stepped towards her.

"Stop G." Faith raised the taser. "I can take it from here."

"Faith..." Giles said more sternly.

Faith gave him a steely look, her face hard, almost blank with emotion.

"I can take it from here."

"G-Man," Xander straightened up in the cage. "It's ok, you can leave." Giles looked between the two, not sure his course of action. "Not to give you an order, cos hey, I seem to be the bad guy here, but," Xander shrugged his shoulders, and immediately regret it as pain shot through the barbs still lodged in his flesh. "But why don't you go check on my lab results, Andrew did mention that Willow says I can't fully hide my DNA. And after Andrew's little demon reveal spell didn't, you know, reveal anything, I assume you can't find any spell or glamor on me..."

"They did find some Magicks in you." Faith eyed Xander's tattooed hands.

"But nothing that could change my appearance, right?" Xander asked his girlfriend.

"No," Giles answered for her.

"And if I'm gonna be tortured some more, I'd feel a whole lot better if you got those test results back quicker, rather than later and let my slayer go... Not necessarily in that order."

"Are you sure?" Giles straightened. The man had a point. If he was Xander, then the quicker it was confirmed, the better. And if he was right about the slayer they had locked up, the quicker they got her out of the chains the better mood this Xander would be. Then again, if the results were inconclusive then Giles would return and pick up where he left off and try to take over for Faith.

"Yeah," Xander turned back to the older Watcher. "Besides," he rubbed the back of his neck again. "You're gonna have a pissed off 'Wolf' at your front gates pretty soon if I'm not mistaken." Giles eyes widened for a second as he caught his meaning. "Hopefully he'll look after Kate till we sort this out." Xander gestured to the cage, wincing slightly as the barbs again pinched from the movement.

The Watcher turned to the door before pausing and looking back at him. "You know, Xander once said to me," Giles began, watching the young man. "If there was a choice between Ripper and Faith-"

"And I stand by it," Xander nodded, interrupting the man. "I'd rather you do this than her, but I'm hoping I can prove to her I am who I am."

"Very well..." Giles nodded back. "But if the results aren't in your favour," he leaned forward menacingly. "Ripper will be unleashed."

"I expect nothing less..." Xander replied.

With that threat said, Giles left the room.


#Gonna... Lay down... M-my B... B-burdens...# Kate sang softly to herself. #Down by the river... Side, down by the riverside...#

She lay on her side in the corner of the dark room, her head against the ground, hair spread around her in a sort of halo, the long strands having come lose from her ponytail as she was placed in the chains. The floor was cold, but nothing as cold as the concrete of the family basement she was sure she was going to go back to. She let out a shudder at the thought of going back, of seeing him again, hearing him preach and yell to the heavens as the small congregation yelled out their own barbs and put downs.

#I a-ain't gonna... S-study war...# she croaked, her eyes staring, unblinkingly at nothing. #I'm g-gonna... Lay d-down my... S-sword and shield... D-down by the... River s-side... Down b-by...# she faltered as more tears came out, falling to the ground, her face wet against the floor.

Xander was gone.

And he was back.

"I'm a good girl..." she let out a shuddering breath. "I'm not dirt-"

There was the sounds of a scuffle off in the distance, beyond the door to the small room she was in. When raised voices could be heard coming from outside she blinked a couple times as her body began to shiver and curl into a ball, her tears flowing more freely now.

"Where is he?" a thick accent called out.

She gasped, moving suddenly to watch the door. She could make out two sets of shadows through the crack at the bottom.

"Drac!" two women that sounded like Buffy and Dawn said as one.

"Leave me Slayers!" the thick accent yell.

"D-Dee..." Kate rasped.

"Yeah right!" Dawn scoffed.

"Not gonna happen Darth Lord Vamp," Buffy added, both shadows at the door not moving.

"Out of my way Woman! You may have been able to break away from my thrall, but that was some time ago."

"Not happening." Buffy sneered, pausing as if something was happening. "Nice try Drac," Buffy sounded bored. "Not quite swooning here."

"Maybe flap your cape some more?" Dawn advised. "Then it might work."

"Augh!" Dracula yelled out. "When would you have told me? When I was halfway across the globe? Or would you have told me at all?"

"You don't underst-" Buffy began.

"He was mine!" the Vampire snarled. "You have no right! As soon as he appeared I should have been told!"

"He's not yours!" Dawn yelled. "He never was then, and he's not now. How long are you gonna keep this up? Its been almost ten years since he followed you, and that was against his will."

"You try my patience slayer..."

"Watch your tone when you talk to my sister!" Buffy yelled, one of the shadows moving in front of the other. "He's not yours Drac," She repeated. "He's not anyone's, and we don't know who that is in there!"

"Dee..." Kate moved a hand to reach for the door. She couldn't stretch that far as the chains gave a protest.

"He is MY Manservant!" Dracula screamed. "I can feel him! Did you think you could trick me by trying to split the pull in two? You know nothing of my power!"

"What?" Buffy gasped.

"I feel him... I feel what you have done to him." Dracula's grew a little softer. "Please Slayers, release him... Now!" Dracula snarled.

She found the strength then, she knew what would help her. She closed her eyes and yelled as loud as she could "M-Master!"

The two shadows at the crack of the door moved suddenly away from the door as the light was obscured by thick smoke that began to enter the room. The smoke stayed low to the ground, the fog like substance quickly spreading out and heading right for her. She smiled then, he would protect her.

The fog then began to rise, coalescing into the form of a man in a dark suit, an equally dark cape draped over his shoulders and held tight over his body. He looked down at her as the door was opened and the light of the hallway washed over them both, Buffy and Dawn standing in the doorway, both with a stake in their hands.

"Dee..." Kate smiled up at him as the Vampire looked at her puzzled. "You came..."

"You are not Xander..." he said astonished.

"They said he d-died..." tears began to fall down her cheeks again, a look of anguish in her eyes. "The c-chains... H-he's coming Dee... Pastor found me..."

"Shhh, my child," Dracula crouched down next to her, stroking a strand of hair behind her ear. He reached down to the chains on her wrists and began to pull at them.

"Drac..." Buffy warned the Vamp.

"What is this Magicks?" Dracula hissed at the two slayers. "She is mine," he broke the chains holding her hands before moving to her feet. "This girl is one of my own, but..." he paused as he broke free her feet.

The instant she was free Kate sat up, her arms wrapping around the Vampire's neck, hugging herself to his body. Dracula for his part was shocked, his body stiff at the sudden embrace and familiarity the young girl seemed to exhibit with him. Dawn was staring at Kate, a sick look on her face, the stake in her hand slack. Her heart had almost stopped when the door had opened and she had seen the girl laying on the ground. She didn't look like a slayer in that moment, matter of fact she still didn't look like one as she clung to the Vampire, her body looking so small compared to the powerful demon.

"Who is this child?" He stood up, his arms holding the girl to him as her grip tightened.

"She appears to be Xander's slayer," Giles quickly entered the room, a piece of paper in his hand.

"You told me my Manservant had no slayer when I requested an audience with his paramour." Dracula sneered at the man. "Watcher, if you were not all Family to my Manservant I would feed on you all..."

"Dee?" Kate pulled slightly away from him to look at him, a tear falling down her face.

"Sorry..." he looked into her sad eyes and found himself saying before he realised what he was doing. After a second she nodded at him and returned her head to his chest.

All four adults looked at each other with confusion on their faces at the girl's actions before Giles cleared his throat.

"I have the DNA results..." he held up the piece of paper.


They stood in silence, Xander staring at the floor, Faith for her part staring daggers at him, the grip on the taser so tight every now and then you could hear the metal and plastic give a groan as if it was going to break. She was concentrating on her breathing as her eyes searched every inch of the thing that tried to dress as her man. He was almost exactly the same. Same eye patch, same lines of the face, same slightly short hair cut, his hair greying at the temples.

He was dressed the same too. Flannel shirt over a undershirt, the hint of a gun holster under his left arm, the gun safely locked away down stairs along with every other artefact he had been carrying. Leather jacket, army pants, and combat boots finished the outfit, the only missing piece was the second holster with his stakes, taser, knife and holy water.

But there was a hardness to him, that fact more enhanced by the intricate tattoos he sported on both hands. When Willow had seen them she had been impressed, telling them that it was old Romani Magicks. With a few key phrases and chants muttered they could be used as weapons to attack or defend, the primary purpose being the ability to call living flame at will. The tattoo's were a powerful spell cast on the man, but it also would have been the easiest Xander could to perform by himself once the tattoos were a part of him.

"Why today...?" she said quietly.

It took a second before he realised she had asked him a question. He looked up at her and noticed she wasn't looking at him any more, her face blank as she stared into the corner of the room.

"What...?" Xander shook his head. All Faith did to answer was hold up the taser in front of herself. "Ah... W-we, Kate and I, were scheduled to come back today... We were in the local cave system two hours from here." he held up his hands in surrender.

"Doing what?"

"Giles said there was an infestation of Dentiumix Demons," at Faith's confused look he continued. "A fully grown Dentiumix Demon is about as tall as me and about as thick as a fridge, no neck, but a mouth that spans from shoulder to shoulder. Their skin is a dull greyish purple and they have talon like claws as well as two small arms in their chests, equally as deadly." he moved his hands to illustrate. "Small razor sharp spikes also cover their shoulders and back. Giles got word there was a nesting pair with a almost ready to hatch brood. He sent us."

"And that took you three days?" Faith raised an eyebrow.

"No," he smiled, shaking his head. "The nest took us about two hours, the three days was checking the cave system to make sure we didn't leave any eggs behind."

"Good," Faith let a small smile grace her face. "I would be worried if it took my Xand three days to clear a nest."

"I am your Xander..." he sighed.

Faith raised the taser before her, about to pull the trigger once more when Xander raised both hands.

"Wait, wait!" he called out. "I can prove it!"

"How?" Faith threatened, the taser still held aloft before her.

"The train..." He said softly. "Berlin, Thirteen."


Four Years Ago...

He was grinning at her again. It wasn't that lopsided smirk he got sometimes when he thought she wasn't looking. It was sadder, full of something she couldn't quite place. And she had been watching him, she always was, especially lately...

He confused her.

Weirded her out sometimes too.

And not in a way that bugged her either.

Which was weird also.

It had been almost a year since they had started shacking up together, the pair much more than just Pseudo Watcher/Slayer now. She could understand it, deep down. He had changed. He wasn't just the goofball he had been when she first met him. Almost a year with Dracula had given him a darkness and the years in Africa had smoothed it out. Sometimes she wished she could go back in time and shown her young self a photo of what Xand looked like now. Tell her that the bright colours die down and the baggy clothes would eventually give way to lean muscles and many scars.

Then again, if she could do that she'd also warn her young self about all the crap she'd do due to one little mistake. But that was behind her now, no one cared, water over a crazed bitch's back or whatever. She still wasn't sure why she was still with him, well, apart from the obvious benefits he shared in the bedroom that is... If it wasn't for the slaying and the helping Slayers, would they be together? She stifled a laugh. She was cracking up, she knew it. She was calling the thing Xander and her had a 'Together'.

He had told her a couple months ago how he felt, had gone all out too. Found her a Nest she could dust all on her own, a rarity nowadays when training the juniors, then it was out to a techno club where she could dance and drink to her hearts content. When she had grown tired of all the vertical sweating and gyrating he had taken her to the nicest hotel she had ever seen. The rest of the night had been followed by horizontal sweating and gyrating, all cumulating in him blurting out a 'I Love You Faith' when they had finally called it a night and lay in each others arms naked on a thoroughly used bed.

He had insisted he didn't need to hear her say anything back, it was just enough he had told her and she hadn't kicked him out of the bed that instant. And she hadn't. She had laughed it off at the time, claiming if either of them could walk straight he would have been out on his ass already. But once he had fallen asleep she had stared at him, trying to read his scared face, trying to figure out what was wrong with him that he could feel those things for her...

She could make out his reflection in the trains large window as she looked out at the countryside that flittered past. He sat across the aisle from her, his body low in his seat, earbuds in, closing his eye every now and then, bopping his head slowly back and forth in time to whatever he was listening to. She turned to look at him when his eye opened again, but this time he didn't seem to look away. Instead his grin just seemed to get sadder.

She couldn't take it anymore and stood up, crossing the aisle to sit in the empty seat next to him. "What?" She almost demanded.

Xander quickly fumbled with his player and hit pause, pulling one of his earbuds out, and sitting up to face her. The grin not fading at all as he was confronted with a pissed off Slayer.

"Nothin'" he replied, looking her up and down.

"It's obviously somethin'," She gave him a stern look. "Ya keep giving me the lovie-dovie sad eye."

"I'm just thinking..." He said cryptically, putting the earbud back in.

"What is it?" She placed her hand on his tattooed one and took both earbuds from him.

"It's nothing..." he said with a sigh. Faith still didn't buy it and told him so by smacking him on the arm. "Fine." He rolled his eye before letting out a sigh. "Sometimes, when I look at you, I think about the past."

That had surprised her.

"Sometimes I... I wish I had known you growing up," he told her, moving closer to her. "We grew up kinda the same, my parents with the drinking, you with your parents and-"

"Ma passin' out every night, Pa not bein' able ta hold a job for more then 5 minutes and me havin' ta fend for myself while living in a slum?" Faith finished for him with a hint of bitterness.

"Yeah..." he looked down at his hands. "I only survived because I had Jessie and Willow... I never had it as bad as you. I think about that and what you went through before Diana pulled you out of there and I wish it was different."

"Can't change the past Xand..."

"No, no you can't..." he got a look in his eye as if he was hiding something.

"What got you thinking this way?" She looked at him sideways.

"There's this song." he held up his player. "It's by a band from the seventies, Big Star, every time I hear it I think of you and what our lives might have been like if we grew up together... Like, would we have been friends?" he looked at her, the sad grin still on his face. "Would we have hung out? Would we both have sought refuge with each other when our parents were out to get us?"

"You think about that stuff?" She asked him, surprise on her face.

"Yeah..." he looked into her eyes. "Here," he said, taking the earbuds from her and putting one in her ear and the other in his, she then watched him as he fumbled with the player cueing up the song. "Just listen."

As the song begun he watched his hands, his breathing low as Faith listened.

#Won't you let me walk you home from school?#
#Won't you let me meet you at the pool?#
#Maybe Friday I can#
#Get tickets for the dance#
#And I'll take you#
#Oh, oh, oh#

She looked at him then, the sad grin on his face turning to concern as she began to frown.

#Won't you tell your dad to get off my back?#
#Tell him what we said about "Paint It, Black"#
#Rock and roll is here to stay#
#Come inside now, it's ok#
#And I'll shake you#
#Oh, oh, oh#

"I hear this song and I can see it." he said as the instrumental part of the song began. "Walking the hallways of Junior High, bitching about our parents as we hang out during Summer, you knocking on my window at night because your parents are fighting and you need somewhere to hang till it blows over, or me doing the same at your window. I see me awkwardly trying to ask you out to junior prom, you punching me in the arm and telling me you were already planing on ditching with me if I didn't ask... But you were glad I did..."

It was at that moment the singer began again.

#Won't you tell me what you're thinking of?#
#And would you be an outlaw for my love?#
#If it's so then let me know,#
#If it's "no", well, I can go.#
#I won't make you - ooh#

"Y..." she cleared her throat, surprised at how dry and chocked up she was. "You hear that... And think all those things?" she asked, her eyesight becoming blurry.

"Y-yeah..." he reached up and cupped her cheek, his thumb moving to the side of her eye, wiping the tear that threatened to fall. "I love you. We both didn't deserve our childhoods, and if I had my way that is what I would have wanted."

He took the earbud from her ear and turned from her, looking out the window. Faith for her part turned so she was sitting back in her seat. Without looking at him she moved her hand to his on the arm rest, her fingers entwining with his.

"Xand?" she asked, her voice small.

"Yeah?" he turned back to her, concern in his voice.

"I ain't gonna say it..." she began, quickly cutting him off as he made to apologise. "But... I think... Me too..." she replied in barely a whisper.

He didn't say anything at first. Just stared at her, the sad grin being replaced with the biggest smile she had ever seen on his face.

"Really?" Xander finally said.

"Shut up," she smirked, looking away from him.

"No way!" he laughed. "I'm gonna sing it from the rooftops!" he got a goofy look on his face. "This calls for teeshirts, commemorative mugs, a balloon in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade! We have to mark our calendars cos I'm celebrating this thing annually like christmas!"

"You breathe a word of this to anyone and they won't find your body..." she smiled sweetly at him, squeezing his hand tightly.

"Yes dear..." He smiled at her, sitting back in his seat, still holding hands.


"And I never did." Xander finished. "I still get asked why I always make sure you and me have the day off every August 5th..."

"My Xand never told anyone too..." she sagged on the spot, her shoulders heavy, the taser limp in her hand at her side. "He's gone..."

"Your Xander..." he sighed. "Your Xander? What is going on? Seriously... What happened to make me look like a bad guy? What happened in the three days we were away? Anya's alive, Giles says I never went back to Vlad... And you never even heard of Katie. It doesn't make sense, Katie adores you Faith, you're her hero..."

"You said you get the damaged slayers, why you?" She asked, the taser forgotten in her hand. "What did you do that was so bad?"

"Well, for one thing," he held up his hands to show her the tattoos. "I became drinking buddies with D'Hoffryn-" Xander suddenly got a serious look on his face. "D'Hoffryn!"


A/N 2: This cliffhanger was always in the story, as I like to think its where this Xander went a bit dark and different to Faith's Xander.

So all you people talking about how it hasn't occurred to anyone in story that this Xander could be a doppelganger like Wishverse Willow... That's because I wanted to set something up! And now you'll just have to wait till next chapter to see what that is...

The train scene was one of the 1st scenes I envisioned when thinking about this fic, as years ago I would think about a girl I was going out with whenever I heard 'Thirteen by Big Star', except when I told her about what it brought up, she just laughed and said we would not have been friends... We broke up soon after. I'm still not quite sure about the scene, I might go back and edit it to either be less sappy, or try for more...

Hit me up with a review if you think its ok, or not, or if it can be improved, or just that I'm writing this wrong, I'm loving the long reviews guys!