The Suit that Made the Man
By: Bubbajack
Co-Authors/Editors: Icysnowsage, First Hassan
Special Consultant: Heliosion
Obligatory First Chapter Disclaimer: We DO NOT OWN the following: Baccano!, Black Lagoon, Grenadier, Gunslinger Girl, Hitman, John Wick, Jormungand, Lupin III, Maximum Ride, Noir, Phantom of Inferno, Spy x Family, or TYPE-MOON. We Really don't own nothing I swear!
Special Thanks go out to my Super Donors on : Apostle_of_Darkness, Ben wanless, Bobby Glass, CrazymanDK, Jareth Norris, kenni nielsen, Scott Marchant, and Selmephren, as well as all my other patrons.
Ch.1: First Contract.
'Ohh, my aching head,' Xander thought to himself as he slowly came to. Blinking he found himself in a graveyard, resting against a headstone. He shot bolt upright. "What the fuck am I doing in a graveyard in the middle of the night? Last thing I remember was a flash of light across the sky," He paused, nothing after that, just a blank spot in his memory. "Where are Buff and Will?" He looked around, seeing no one, then panicked. "Where the hell are the kids we were supposed to be chaperoning?!" 'Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!' He thought worriedly as he raced out of the cemetery, his head on a swivel but he didn't spot any creeps, kooks, or ghouls as he raced out of the place.
'Calm down, take a breath, and properly assess the situation,' a voice in his head told him.
He did just that, running his hands through his hair as he did so. "Okay, so I blacked out and somehow ended up in the graveyard, why? How long was I out? Where are the others? First stop, Buffy's house, if they're anywhere, they'd be there." So thinking he made his way to Revellio Drive.
(...)
Giving no thought to how he wasn't even winded by the time he arrived, Xander knocked on the door and waited for several heart pounding seconds for someone to answer, after a moment. Willow, who was dressed as a… he didn't even know what answered the door, saw him, and paused before giving a tentative and hopeful, "Xander?"
"Wills, what's with the outfit?" He asked even more confused than waking up in a graveyard.
She sighed in relief before throwing her arms around him, "Oh Xander it is you?!"
"Yes, Xander I am… who else would I be?" He was genuinely confused by her reaction, even as he returned the affectionate gesture.
"Come on in, tonight has been crazy!" She said ushering him inside.
The moment Xander saw Angel inside Buffy's house he reached inside the jacket of his suit, hand gripping the walnut handle of a gun as he growled, "What is that thing doing in here?"
"Down Xan," Buffy said, stepping in between her Male BFF and the Vamp with a Soul. "A lot of crazy mind whoziwatsit has happened tonight and we all need to chill pill and figure it out."
"Explain," He said in no uncertain terms as he glared at the vampire behind the Slayer's back, his grip still firmly on the gun which for some reason his mind filled in as the Thompson Contender.
Willow did all the talking. Apparently some old 'asshole' acquaintance of Giles thought it would be 'funny' to invoke the chaos aspect of the Roman God Janus and turn everyone into their costumes for Halloween.
'That is some powerful magecraft. Attributing a ritual to an ancient god of portals along with chaos is not an easy feat. A conduit had to have been used or risk the mage burning through his own life force. The question is what?' thought Xander with knowledge he knew he didn't have before he conked out. He then said, "So we were all possessed?" He didn't bother to say again for his own sake.
"Yeah…" Buffy looked uncomfortable suddenly. "You… you umm, you killed a lot of people while possessed Xan… We don't blame you though!" She added quickly.
"Yeah it wasn't your fault," Willow said, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"I find your lack of response… concerning," Xander said clinically. "I mean, if I have to kill one to save a hundred fine, but life is precious, it has value and should have a hefty value to counterbalance that loss."
The girls' eyes widened and they looked at each other, and Buffy said, "Are you feeling okay Xan?"
"Tired, have a headache," He grunted in mild annoyance. He could ignore the pain, fatigue of this level was nothing but a nuisance to him. He could still go for days without needing actual sleep he knew.
"Well I'll get you some aspirin and then you can crash on my couch alright?" Buffy said, making a kind gesture for his sake.
"Not while that thing's still here," His gaze flicked to Angel who looked back at him.
"You've changed Harris," He said at last.
"What do you mean Angel?" Buffy asked, looking behind her at the ensouled vampire.
Angel was quick to reply, "Everything about him is different. His breathing, stance, bearing. Before tonight he didn't carry himself like someone who knew how to fight. Brawl? Yes. But fight? No. Now?" Angel looked the boy over with a keen eye. "He knows how to fight,"
"Would you like a demonstration?" Xander offered, showing one too many teeth as he smiled.
"Put the dicks away boys," Buffy said, firming her stance between the two before a fight could break out. Turning to the vampire she said, "Thanks for your help tonight Angel I really do appreciate it, but in the interest of my house not turning into a warzone and having to explain that to my mom, I think it's best you go before the sun comes up."
"Yeah," he nodded, his eyes flicking to hers for just a moment before going back to Xander. "Any place, anytime Harris."
"Tomorrow, high noon bloodsucker," He shot back immediately, a smirk on his lips.
To which Angel rebutted, "I meant after sundown, obviously."
"You said anytime anywhere," Xander sing-songed.
Buffy fixed Xander with a glare even as she tried to keep the smirk off her lips, "Okay Xander, that's enough. Seeya round Angel."
"Yeah, Buffy, seeya."
Once he was gone, the Slayer shook her head, "What's gotten into you tonight? What did you even dress up as anyway?"
The teen shrugged, "I didn't exactly have much cash for a costume so I borrowed my dad's old tux and bought some toy guns from Ethan's. I think the spell must've assumed I was going as some sort of an assassin or something."
"What? No Alexander Lavelle Harris international man of mystery?" Buffy asked as she hiked the skirts on her costume. "I really need to get out of this stupid thing,"
Reaching into his pocket, Xander pulled out a wickedly curved and just as sharp karambit knife. "Need a hand?"
"No I got it… I thought you said you only bought toy guns?"
Xander looked at the knife in his hand, how the metal gleamed and his index finger slipped through the metal knuckle guard. "I did… but this is real."
"Definitely real," Buffy said a little tense, as she asked, "Did you buy any guns?"
"Does a bear shit in the woods?" Xander replied.
Clearing her throat, Buffy asked, "Could you um… disarm yourself please?"
"I could," Xander replied with a curt nod, "But I'd feel… naked without them, so I'd rather not if it's all the same to you."
"Please Xan… I… I don't like guns," Buffy admitted.
Xander sighed. "If it were anyone else, I'd be telling them to fuck off right about now you know that? And you know why that is?"
Buffy looked at the floor flushing. "Sorry Xan,"
"It's fine," He said as he proceeded to divest himself of his weapons. All of his weapons. He pulled the Contender out of his coat first, placing it on the coffee table, then a garrote wire, four syringes full of dubious contents, then a .45 Silverballer next to it, two knives came out of the sleeves of his coat, a couple of derringers out of his pockets, a grenade out of his breast pocket.
Then the coat came off showing he was wearing a rigged harness over that, which had a 9mm Heckler and Koch under one arm, another .45 Silverballer under the other, spare clips, knives, and more grenades totaling six in all attached to his belt. He then pulled up his pants revealing a pair of tanto point knives, on the outside, along with twin .22 pistols just above them. Finally, he took off his shoes and removed the knives hidden inside them.
He looked back to the girls who were gaping like fishes at this point and said, "That's everything, can I get that aspirin now Buff?"
The Slayer blinked before coming back to her senses. "How… How did you manage to store all this on your person and still look completely normal?!"
"It's easy if you know how," He said with a shrug.
Buffy then noticed Willow starring all googly eyed and gave Xander a once over. 'Damn!' She thought, 'He got really buff all of the sudden… or was it even sudden and we just didn't notice? Either way, he's filling out that suit well,' She thought appreciatively as gave him a once over, noting how his muscles strained against the fabric off his crisp white shirt.
"My eyes are up here ladies." Xander said after a moment, bemused at the looks he was getting from the girls he was just friends with. He proceeded to unbutton his shirt to see what, if any, changes the spell had left on him. 'Hey, I've got a twelve pack now, nice.' He thought.
'You'll need to work to maintain it,' A voice in his head said as Xander put the shirt aside and turned around hearing the girls gasp.
What is it?" He asked looking back.
"Xander! You've got tattoos on your back… and neck too!" Willow told him.
He blinked. "I do? What do they look like?"
"Let me get a camera, my mom has one of those instantly developing picture types around here somewhere," Buffy commented. "And I'm gonna change out of this stupid dress while I'm at it! Maudite robe!"
Did Buffy just swear in French?" Xander asked.
"I think so… that was weird right?" Willow said worriedly.
Xander shrugged. "As weird as me having my own personal armory on my person? No."
"Point," Willow conceded. She paused before she asked, "Are you going to be okay Xander?"
"I think so, I mean, I still feel like Xander," He reached down and cupped his crotch. "Lefty and Righty are still there, and so is Xander Jr. So yeah, I think I'm good."
"You named your balls lefty and righty?" Willow asked through her gauff.
"Did I hear Xander say Xander Jr?" Buffy said as she came back with a polaroid camera.
"Talking about my junk, everything is still attached thank God," He said, his tone solemn and thankful.
The Slayer rolled her eyes, "Men,"
"Hey if we're talking about a woman getting a double hysterectomy would I be saying women or being supportive?"
'Damn his comebacks are on point tonight,' Buffy thought. "Point, sorry. Also here's the Aspirin you wanted," She said, placing two white oblong pills in front of him along with a glass of orange juice.
"Thanks Buff," He said before downing the pills and drinking the OJ like it was a shot.
"No problem, now hold still while I take this," She said. She took two pictures, one of the tattoo on his back, and the other of the barcode on his neck.
Once the pictures developed, she showed them to him. The tattoo on his back was that of a pair of hands held in prayer holding a cross, a flaming skull on the left shoulder, and a dove in flight on the right. Above it was written "Fortis Fortuna Adiuvat"
"Latin for Fortune Favors the Bold," Xander muttered to himself.
He then looked at the other picture, it was a barcode on the back of his neck that read out as 640509-040147.
As he read off the numbers, scenes of a hospital or asylum flashed through his mind's eye, of carnage, bloodshed, finally leaving the confines of that place, Satu Mare Mental Institute flickered across his mind as he sat down with a heavy thump on the Summer's couch.
"Xan?" Buffy called warrily while reaching out for him, "You okay?"
"Yes," He said while rubbing his eyes, "I just… need some sleep. That's all."
The Slayer nodded a bit weary after everything that happened tonight herself. "Yeah okay. I'll go grab a blanket and pillow for you. Feel free to get more comfortable in the meantime."
'Does she want me to strip down to my boxers or something? I feel naked enough as it is without any weapons.' Xander thought to himself as he took his gloves, a pair of black goatskin leather Sap gloves each filled with six ounces of steel shot in the knuckles, off and added them to the small armory on the coffee table as Buffy came back with a pillow and blanket.
"Are you going to be comfortable sleeping in those pants and socks?" She asked.
"Comfortable enough," Xander replied, "Besides I might need to make a quick escape before your mom comes home in the morning,"
The Slayer conceded the point, "Good point," Throwing the pillow down and blanket over him she said, "G'night Xan, and…" She paused glancing at his arsenal for a moment before saying, "Try not to dwell on what happened earlier too much okay?" Buffy said giving him a wan smile that she must've thought was encouraging before she made her way up to her room, leaving him in the dark, alone with his thoughts. It wasn't until he tucked a .22 under his pillow that he was finally able to doze off.
(...)
"Hey kid, It's time to get up."
"Meh, five more minutes dad, I can be late to school," spoke Xander trying to sleep. Then he remembered that he was at Buffy's and that his dad was never that polite.
Xander jumped off the ground where he was sleeping(?) and put up his fist to fight.
He was surprised to find himself in a semi nice living room furnished with some eastern European chairs. He saw three very different men each sitting in a chair and looking at him.
The one who spoke to him looked the oldest with a dark full beard and straight combed back hair that framed his face. His navy blue three piece suit offset the almost sickly looking parlor of his skin and it made Xander think he either A, didn't get out much, or B. was Russian.
He gave a gentle smile and waved his hand to an open chair right next to Xander, "Take a seat kid we have quite a bit to talk about. Also, where are my manners? Names John. John Wick."
Xander looked at the nice armchair for him to sit on. Being aware of his surroundings. Xander kept his eyes on all three men, Men in nice suits he recognized, as he sat down.
"Good eyes. Don't leave unknown people out of your sight," spoke up the second man. He was bald, with harsh chiseled features. His two piece suit was a mix of black, white, and red, including the tie, and he wore black gloves on his hands.
"Your young, not that it matters I suppose," Spoke the last man, and the youngest of the bunch who was older than Xander by at least a decade and a half, and clearly of asian descent. His suit was black with a charcoal undershirt, black tie, and unlike the other two he wore a trench coat rather than a lounge jacket. He had messy black hair and dark eyes that seemed somehow hollow, like the void.
"Okay… Where are we? And who are you two?"
"I never had a name, just a number, you can call me forty-seven, Agent Forty-Seven. Everyone does," The bald man said, eyes like chips of cold ice.
"Uhuh, I'll think up a better name for you later," Xander promised him, "Cause no one deserves to go through life without a name. You are a man not a number. We are all human."
That seemed to surprise Forty-Seven for a moment as his eyebrows lifted, wrinkling his brow, before he nodded. "Do as you like,"
Xander then focused his eyes on the last unknown person present, "And you are you Mister.I'm-totally-not-a-salaryman-working-for-a-black-company?"
The only effect that got from the man was a sigh, "Well, you haven't lost your sense of humor at least, that's something I suppose."
"Yeah… as to my questions?" Xander pressed.
The asian man shrugged. "I'm Kiritsugu Emiya, and we're in your head, or more specifically your mind palace."
Xander blinked and looked around the room. It was covered in a waxed wooden floor lined with throw rugs, with tasteful art on the walls and a lit hearth was crackling away merrily off to the side. On the mantle above them was a portrait of Buffy herself and on the opposing wall was a picture of Jessie with a lit candle next to it. There was a dark stained wooden shelf full of all manner of books as well and a California King Bed. He looked back to the men, "This place is my mind palace?"
"Kid," John began getting his attention. "You're smarter than you give yourself credit for, we pursued your memories while we waited for you to fall asleep, sorry not much to do in here, and you're keeping up in AP courses with that Willow friend of yours."
"A C average isn't much to write home about," Xander sighed.
"If you were in normal classes those would be straight A's and we all know it," John reminded him. "What's more, you don't learn like most people, visually and auditorily but by hands on or concrete thinking. If you can conceptualize it as a physical device or understanding it comes to you simply enough. For example, "If it bleeds?""
"Then you can kill it," answered Xander almost automatically.
"Exactly," John replied. "You learn kinesthetically or tactically through physical activity."
Xander nodded, "Oh that makes a lot of sense,"
John nodded, "You've changed since the lightshow in the sky and you're wondering why right?"
"It kinda did cross my mind, yeah," Xander agreed. "I'm assuming it has something to do with you three?"
"Yeah, since you wore something so… vague for Halloween, that spell stuck all three of us in your head. All three of us are hitmen, all three of us are the best at what we do, and our skills are slowly being imprinted on you for lack of a better term," John told him.
"Am I being possessed again?!" Xander asked in exasperation as he rubbed at his eyes.
"No," Kiritsugu told him. "Quite the opposite actually, you're possessing us, our skills, abilities, knowledge, it's all being passed onto you."
"Oh," Xander replied before saying contritely, "I'm sorry?"
John shook his head, "Don't be, I lived a good life. I'm glad I get to pass my skills on, just… don't be like me and be willing to let things go sometimes, kid. Being unable to do that is what eventually killed me."
"I put my goals over my loved ones," Kiritsugu said with a scoff, "I hope you don't make the same mistakes I did."
"Was it worth it in the end?" Xander asked.
Kiritsugu looked at him with dead eyes and shook his head. "No, not at all. I lost everything, my wife, daughter, protege, and adopted son, and all for nothing."
"I… died of old age, with no one to remember nor mourn me," Agent Forty-Seven said, his flat tone having a sad inflection to it. "It was… tragic I was supposed to die old and alone with no one by my side in the end. Try and make and keep friends, acquaintances, someone who will be by your side when the end eventually comes. That is my one regret," The tacturn man advised.
"So be willing to let things go sometimes, don't put goals over loved ones, and don't distance myself from people to the point I don't have someone there for me at the end. Got it," He took their advice to heart. Is there anything else I need to know?"
Rubbing his hands together, John told him, "Oh plenty, we're just getting started on the good stuff now kid."
Xander's curiosity was piqued. "Good stuff?"
"What you can do, with all our skills put together, is what is getting at," Agent Forty-Seven translated flatly. "While both of these two are in peak form, I am well and far beyond it. I was genetically created to be a perfect assassin. Using gene therapy and the genetics of the five most prolific assassins of the time, I was created. If this works as we think it does, you should be as close to genetically perfect as humanly possible. Having beyond peak human conditioning, the ability to shrug off poisons and drugs, to take most bullet wounds unflinchingly, skills in espionage, assassination, and disguise, languages, and a multitude of miscellaneous skills used to get close to targets. Which include but are not limited to playing multiple musical instruments, being an expert masseur, chef, and DJ."
"Damn, you can do all that?" Xander was impressed.
"I have worn many hats over the years." Agent Forty-Seven said straight faced. "And no, you can do all that,"
Seeing he was too shocked to speak, John picked up where the bald assassin had left off. "As for me, I'm good, real good at killing people. So good in fact, people called me the Baba Yaga. The Monster you called to kill the boogeyman. Pistols, knives, shotguns, assault rifles, bare hands. If they bleed, I can find a way to kill them. I specialized in a mixed martial art that was a combination of Judo, Brazilian Jujitsu, Arnis, a filipino martial art for knife work, and I use a sport called three gun to train my marksmanship,"
"I can probably look up most of that, probably," Xander said, sounding a bit unsure of himself.
"Ask that Britishman you know, Rupert Giles." Kiritsugu said, "I'm sure a magi such as himself would know where to look."
"You mean Giles? You said Jiles," Xander pointed out.
"That's because I was actually pronouncing his name correctly," The Asian assassin replied, "In England, that name is pronounced with a J sound, not a G."
Xander blinked owlishly. "Oh… wow, no wonder he gets annoyed whenever I call him G-man."
John chuckled a bit, "I don't think he minds as much as he lets on kid."
"Hope so," Xander said half under his breath. Xander would never say it out loud of course, but he viewed the stuffy old librarian as more of a father than his own father, whom he viewed as more of a mere sperm donor at this point.
"You'll be fine," Kiritsugu assured him, "Now as for me, I give you access to magic, or as we call it where I'm from, magecraft."
Xander guffed, "Magic seriously? Sorry man but me and hocus pocus never really got along, and I can't imagine that changing now just because you're along for the ride."
Fixing him with a stern glare that silenced him on the spot, Kiritsugu told him, "On the contrary, I can tell you you're adept at using fire just from looking at your memories."
"Whatcha talkin' bout willis?"
"What I'm talkin' bout is you've inadvertently used fire magecraft twice, both times without realizing it," Kiritsugu told him. "The first time when you were seven, you accidentally set your house on fire on your birthday because you were scared of a clown and wanted to see a firetruck. You thought your friend Willow did it. The second time was when you read a phrase out of one of Giles' grimoires and set it on fire by accident."
Xander blinked dumbfoundedly, "I did that? Twice?"
Kiritsugu just flatly replied, "Yes, and you could have more than one element too. I have Earth and Fire for example. Heck you might've gained my Elements and even Origins though I doubt the magic went that far."
"What's an Origin?" Xander asked for clarification.
"It's… hard for me to explain but it's the beginning, the purpose or meaning of one's soul, granted by what magi call the root, the source of all knowledge and information. It could be likened to God's throne if said throne was a place, and one's Origin is the hidden driving force behind one's actions. Once you learn your Origin it'll become a habit that can't be ignored, but an Origin can also be weaponized if it is known." He gave Xander a serious look as he asked, "If you want, I can reveal your Elements and Origin to you. I'll tell you your Element and any Sorcery Trait you might have but learning your Origin is optional. Would you like to know all three?"
"Yes. All three… please," Xander said almost as an afterthought. He felt something, almost like an unscratchable itch in the core of his being once he was told about Origins. He needed to know what his was. He just had to. It was some sort of primal imperative.
Kiritsugu stared at him for a moment before saying, "Very well," He waved his hand and the table they were all sitting around disappeared, only to be replaced by a magic circle seemingly made out of pure silver set into the floor. "Stand in the circle,"
"How did you do that?" Xander asked as he walked into the center of the array.
"This is your mind palace, it's literally mind over matter in here. Now be quiet, I'm trying to concentrate" Kiritsugu told him half distractedly as he began muttering to himself, as the circle slowly began to glow a light teal in color. Suddenly he felt the pain of several hot irons being rammed down his spine all at once. Xander grit his teeth and winced slightly but refused to show any other signs of pain. He forced himself to stay upright even as sweat beaded his brow.
Once the lightshow finally ended, Xander sat back down in his chair wiping the sweat on the back of his hand as he asked, "Well, what's the diagnosis doc?"
"Impressive, most people pass out the first time their magic circuits open up, you not only didn't pass out, but remained standing. Your pain tolerance is nothing to scoff at, I'll give you that." Kiritsugu said with a modicum of respect in his tone for once.
"I've been fighting vampires for over a year, they're bare minimum, at least five times stronger and four times faster than me. Give me some credit man."
"Compared to the vampires I've fought in my lifetime, they aren't so impressive, but for someone with no training learning on the go? You've done well for yourself so far."
"Gee thanks," Xander replied. "So what about my test results?"
"Elements are Air, Earth, Fire, and Ether. Magic Circuit quantity is B-plus with thirty-five circuits and Quality is A-plus-plus-plus with a total capacity of twenty-five hundred. Sorcery Trait of Conversion. Additionally you seem to have inherited my portion of the Emiya Magic Crest which gives you an additional fifteen circuits bumping your total up to fifty. A can only assume the reason you have such a high capacity is due in part to the fact you grew up in a mana rich environment, combined with Agent Forty-Sevens gene therapy making your body particularly receptive to magical energy. All I had to do was turn your circuits on," The man then paused, looking Xander in the eye as he asked, "Are you sure you want to know your origin? This is your last chance to back out."
To which Xander snapped at him, "Just tell me already, Old Man!"
For reasons Xander didn't understand, being called 'old man' brought a smile to Kiritsugu Emiya's face. "Well alright then. You have a dual Origins of Cultivation and Culling. It's similar yet different to my own dual Origins of Severing and Binding."
The teen felt something click into place within his being once he was told of his twin origins. "Cultivation and culling, huh? Cool. What can I do with that?"
Kiritsugu was quick to list things off the top of his head, "Grow plants for poisons and medicine, and kill things, strengthen and weaken things. You'd be good at curses, witchcraft, Formalcraft, specifically elemental conversion, Reinforcement, anything that could make you or others stronger or weaker and kill your foes is fair game. Hell, you're practically an Average One. Someone who can use all Elements equally."
Xander was excited but held it in, "Cool. So what does the crest do?"
"My family specialized in time alteration, I used it to alter my own personal time as I prefer things that are useful in combat situations."
"But you used it for other things like speeding up the velocity of the bullets in your guns and the nerve signals in your brain too right? Not just your own personal time… Right, because then it would be like you were stuck in Flash Time every time you used it."
Kiritsugu blinked his mouth slightly agape for several seconds before he clicked it shut and muttered, "Damn, why didn't I think of that? Even the blowback from Gaia would've been minimized had I used either of those methods."
"Woah, wait, wait wait," Xander said holding up his hands, "Back up did you just gloss over mentioning that the damn planet is sentient like in World of Darkness?"
"Yeah pretty much," Kiritsugu didn't even bother to deny it. "God, I could use a cigarette right now,"
"Same," John said with just as much if not more enthusiasm. "I could quit the business for Hellen, but I couldn't give up smoking."
"Smoking'll kill you, you know?" Forty-seven said to the two.
"Quicker than a bullet to the head, being run over by a car, an explosion, or asphyxiation?" John retorted.
"No, but it's a slower, more insidious death. One you don't even notice till it's too late." the superhuman hitman replied.
"I'll take my chances." Both John and Kiritsugu shot back at the same time.
Xander noticed sunlight peeking through the blinds of his mind palace. "I'd love to stay and chat with you fellas, but I think I'm waking up," he said, "We'll have to table anything else for another time."
(...)
Feeling a presence above him, Xander's eyes snapped open and he pulled the .22 out from under his pillow and pointed it directly above him… right into the surprised face of one Joyce Summers.
"Jesus, Miss Summers," Xander sighed. "You scared the shit out of me,"
"You? You're the one who pulled the gun on me Xander. Where on earth did you get such a thing… and all the rest of this I'm assuming is yours too?" She asked, casting a worried gaze over the small arsenal that had taken up her coffee table.
"Yeah, that's all mine," Xander admitted freely. He wasn't about to lie to Joyce more than he already had. She was a good person, and while this world was painted in innumerable shades of gray, she was one of the few spots of white in it as far as he was concerned.
"Listen I know the gang fighting and deaths have gone up a lot recently Xander but don't you think this is all a bit much….. Is what I would say if not hearing about how multiple kids, teenagers, and adults were killed last night in gang activity. I swear if it wasn't for the job and school. I would have moved away from this hell hole," snarked Joyce, showing Buffy took after her mother.
"But then I never would've met you or Buffy, miss Summers, and that would've been a crying shame. For me anyway.
"Xander sweetie, how many times do I have to tell you to just call me Joyce?" the Summers matriarch told him sweetly as she gently patted his head. "Are you okay? You don't look well? You didn't get hurt yesterday did you?"
He shook his head if only to reassure her he was fine, "No, no, Joyce. I'm fine really. I just skipped dinner because yesterday put me off my appetite."
"Ah, you might just have low blood sugar then," Joyce said understandingly, "I'll cook something for you kids."
"Didn't you just get home just now?" He asked seeing she was still wearing a coat and high heeled shoes. "You go sit down and I'll cook."
"Not that I don't appreciate the thought, but do you even know how to cook Xander sweetie?" Joyce asked while giving him a warm smile.
"Watch me, or better yet, don't, and just sit back, relax, and wait to savor the results," He replied.
Sighing a bit tiredly. Joyce flopped down on the couch next to him, "Alright, alright, you've convinced me, no need to twist my arm." Not that Joyce needed much convincing. She couldn't remember the last time Hank had cooked for her. Before Buffy had come along surely. Now she had an adorable young man offering to cook for her in her own home. 'I wonder if I can convince him to stay?' She thought idly glancing behind her furtively to make sure he didn't set anything ablaze.
Yet much to her surprise, he was maneuvering around her kitchen like a master chef in his element. In seemingly no time at all, he had orange juice without pulp shaken and poured into a glass mixed with some sparkling wine and topped with ice, eggs, sausage, and mandolin potatoes frying in a pan and the smell of coffee was permeating the air. As he cooked she couldn't help but ask, "Xander? Are these live grenades sitting on my coffee table?"
"Umm, I can explain?" He called back nervously.
"No explosive ordinance at the table in the future please," Joyce said with a sigh. It was too early and she was too sober to deal with this shit. When her daughter called and told her a mass shooting had taken place, she'd canceled her art deal, dropped everything, and drove back home like a bat outta hell to make sure she was safe… only to find Xander sleeping on her couch in front of enough ordinance to single handedly take over the Vatican. She even got a couple of speeding tickets on the way back.
She perked up when Xander set a plate full of an omelet filled with sausage, cheese, and potatoes in front of her, along with a mimosa and coffee. "Sugar, cream?" He asked.
"Two sugars, one cream, and an explanation as to what in God's name happened last night." She said.
"Right," Xander said, coming back with the sugar and creamer she kept in the fridge along with his own plate before saying, "Unfortunately, I can't remember much of what happened last night, as I got hit in the head from behind and knocked out. Somebody jumped me and when I woke up I was in a graveyard."
She winced in sympathy for him, "Which one?" Joyce asked.
"The one on fifth and main." He replied. "Had one hell of a headache too but I ran my ass over here to see if Buff and Wills were okay."
Joyce beamed at him, "My daughter is lucky to have a friend like you," 'Now if only she could see it, why if I were a couple decades younger I'd… do everything to him honestly.' She admitted privately to herself. 'He's loyal, protective, and a good cook… then again, the age gap certainly never stopped Hank, and they say turnabout is fair play… No, no, what are you thinking Joyce? This is Xander! One of Buffy's best friends, one you hope to call son-in-law one day! You can't think of him as hot… Oh God, I just thought of him as hot. Gah! Stop it!'
"Is everything alright Joyce?" Xander asked, concerned as to why she'd gone so quiet. She seemed to be struggling with something internal and he'd hoped to offer help in some regard.
"No dear, everything is fine," She replied, waving him off before digging into her food. Her eyes lit up on the first bite. "This is delicious!" She praised after she swallowed. "I'm amazed it came out of my kitchen."
Xander shrugged, "It's just an omelet, nothing special. I just threw together some eggs, cheese, potatoes, sausage, onions, salt, and pepper."
She patted him on the cheek affectionately, "Well you did a great job Xander,"
"Thanks Joyce, I'm glad you like it," He looked at his Vatican busting arsenal on the coffee table. "I'll put that away as soon as I'm done eating."
"Take your time… they won't randomly go off will they?"
The teen scoffed. "If they can survive being transported in a B2 Bomber, and the constant bumping of a humvee while on a soldier's belt, I think we'll be fine if they're just sitting there motionless."
Joyce digested his words like she did the meal he prepared for her and slowly realized they made sense, but she couldn't help but ask. "Where'd you get them anyway?"
"Well I might've borrowed some stuff from a nearby military base when shit went down… but by the time I got back I got jumped. Why they didn't take anything I don't know, but like I said, I woke up in the graveyard."
"Honestly that isn't as strange as gang members murdering each other with barbeque forks."
"Yeah, this city is weird," Xander agreed. He silently wondered if she could handle the honest truth.
A silence stretched between the two for a moment, and neither of them wanted to break it. But Joyce finally did when she said his name in such a way that made him look at her directly, "Xander?"
"Yes Joyce?"
She took a breath, "Are you a hitman or something?" She motioned to the weapons in front of her with a sweep of her arm, "All this, a kid your age having all this… only one thing makes sense,"
"I've been meaning to do some plumbing around this town for a while now if you catch my drift." He replied evasively.
"Why? Is it because of the gangs or?" She stopped when she saw him raise a hand.
"Joyce in this city, either you know what's going on, or you don't, and you, don't. Part of me is envious of you for that, but a much greater part is afraid for your safety, for to be unaware is to be ignorant and thus, defenseless."
"Can you tell me what's going on? Joyce asked only for Xander to shake his head.
"Even if I did, you wouldn't believe me. You have to experience it firsthand to know for a fact it's real, and even then some would deny its existence," He shrugged, "I guess because it's easier to pretend you imagined things you can't explain than accept a truth you don't like."
Joyce slowly nodded before tentatively asking, "Is Buffy also involved in this Xander?"
He scoffed, "Of course she is, and she's so damn stubborn that half the time she won't accept help from anyone. I promise you, I'll do everything I can to keep her safe. However, you can lead an ass to water, but you can't make it drink."
Joyce both sighed and laughed at the same time. "Thank you, and I'm going to apologize for any trouble she's put you through till now… can I ask you some personal questions?"
"For a beautiful woman like you? I'm an open book." He replied, giving her a roguish smile.
'Ooh, is it hot in here or is it just him!' Joyce asked herself as she fanned her face a bit.
Seeing what she was doing, he inquired, "You alright? You're looking a bit pique."
"Oh! I'm fine, it's just the mimosa," She said while giving a nervous laugh. "Anyway, where did you learn… all this?" She motioned to the weapons again.
"Well, around the age of seven, that's when Tony, my sperm donor, started to get really abusive, that's when I met my three uncles. Uncles John, Kerry, and Hank."
"Hank?" Forty-Seven asked. "You decided to call me Hank?"
'Shut up I'm improvising!' Xander shot back. "Anyway we weren't really related, they just saw something in me that reminded them of themselves and started teaching me self-defense, then it moved on to moving quietly, then foreign languages, then before I knew it, I was learning how to clean, disassemble and use guns."
"Oh wow, and where are they now?"
Xander smiled ruefully, "You know how this town is Joyce. They're no longer with us. Kerry went first, John followed, and Hank went last of all. All three of them went down fighting the gangs of this town."
"I'm so sorry sweetie! I had no idea you had it so rough growing up!" She hugged him, Xander couldn't remember the last time someone had done so in order to give him comfort. 'God my life is shit.' He thought to himself as he slowly returned the embrace. 'My brother is dead, Willow's all but forgotten him, Buffy never knew him so I can't expect her to mourn him and genetic donors don't give a shit about me one way or the other.' The teen assassin sighed tiredly and said "C'est la vie."
"No, not such is life." Joyce chastised. "You shouldn't have had to go through all that."
"It's fine Joyce, it's over and done with," Xander reassured her.
To which she responded, "Are you still living with your parents Xander? Well?" She asked when he didn't reply.
"Yes…" He said drawing out the 's' into an annoyed hiss.
"Then it isn't over," The Summers matriarch said stubbornly.
'Well, I know where Buff gets it from,' Xander thought, grinning a bit as he hugged Joyce back while silently hoping she wouldn't see.
"You can stay with us, we have a guest room." She declared.
"I wouldn't want to impose," Xander said immediately.
"You wouldn't be." She assured him.
"What about rent?"
"Don't be ridiculous." she said, waving him off. "Your seventeen for goodness sake."
"How would Buffy feel about this?"
"How would Buffy feel about what?" The Slayer yawned as she came down the stairs. "Morning mom… Mom?" She said, her eyes widening, "What're you doing here?"
"Elizabeth, did you actually expect me to stay in LA after you told me a mass shooting had taken place?" Her mother asked her pointedly. "Also, Xander will be staying with us for the foreseeable future."
"Okay." She said with a shrug. "Ohh, breakfast! Who cooked?"
"Okay?" Xander parroted, "You're really fine with it? Also that was me."
"Yeah Xan why wouldn't I be? You're my Male BFF, but I hope you don't mind cold showers cause I like to take long hot ones so… and if you cook like this, you can stay as long as you like! Forever if you want."
He shrugged, "Meh, Tony hasn't paid the heating bill in the past month so I'm kinda used to that. Also if you like it you should put a ring on it Buffster!" He playfully called back.
"Hmm, tempting but… well maybe, if only cause then I'd get to eat this good everyday." She fired back, humoring him.
'Oh Buffy, can't you see you're getting his hopes up then crushing them?' Joyce thought as she watched the light brighten then immediately dim in the boy's eyes.
She patted the young man on his arm affectionately. Silently showing she understood and empathized with his pain. "Well, after we eat we should go collect your things shouldn't we?"
"Yeah I guess that's a good idea." Xander said, knowing not to argue with a Summers woman. It just wasn't a hill worth dying on.
(...)
Joyce stopped the truck she got from Hank in the divorce outside of Xander's house. "Wait here and I'll be back with my things."
"Do you want any help?" Buffy offered.
"No!" Xander said more forcefully than he'd intended… "I mean, no. I've got it. Just stay here alright?" He smiled at her good naturedly, "I'll be right back, you don't need to come in with me."
Buffy stared at him suspiciously, a frown etched on her face even as she eventually nodded, "Fine, but the moment I hear anything suspicious I'm coming in."
"You won't hear a thing," He promised her as he opened the truck door and walked up the path to the front door.
Buffy all but glared at his back. "What was all that about?"
"Buffy, honey don't tell me you've never realized what's going on with Xander?" Joyce sighed.
The Slayer whipped her head around to her mother, "What do you mean mom?"
Joyce just smiled sadly at her daughter. "Sweetheart, it's obvious even as hard as he tries to hide it that Xander is being abused in some fashion by his parents."
Buffy turned chalk white. "W-what?"
"How many times have you or Willow been invited over to his house since you've known him? I've seen that boy with more bruises cuts and scrapes on him than is humanly possible and he always offers some lame excuse. He's also thin, as if he's not eating properly. Not to the point he's malnourished but clearly there's a reason he's always staying for dinner at our place or Willows."
"His parents aren't… feeding him? Abusing him? Hurting him?" Buffy squeaked out the words as a venomous voice in the back of her mind began to berate her for not noticing any of this.
'What kind of friend are you,' It said, 'If you can't even see behind a friend's fake smile and the pain underneath?'
'He never said anything!' Buffy countered.
'He shouldn't have had to,' the voice countered. 'He already lost one friend and did he ever even grieve his loss or did he just throw himself into your fight? He'd rather be angry than sad, to rage rather than grieve.'
'I should talk to him about this,' the faux-blonde decided.
'Ya think?' the voice sneered, 'That would be a good first step to fix this colossal fuck up you've created. A Slayer should fight alone in any case.'
'Who the hell are you anyway?' Buffy snarled at this inner voice.
Said voice scoffed at her, 'If you have to ask, you don't deserve to know.' it replied before going silent. Leaving the Slayer to worry about her Xander-shaped-friend.
(...)
The inside of the house smelled of must, stale beer, and mold like it always did. A couple bags worth of cans littered the foyer. Xander considered that his 'allowance' in a manner of speaking. A nickel for every can didn't amount to much but since his parents drank like fish, well… he shook his head, getting his head in the game. 'Basement, clothes, what little cash I have, and my bug out bag.' he told himself even as he double checked the safety on the .38 special he had on his person. It was the only thing he risked taking from the kitchen table, and thankfully Buffy didn't seem to notice. Walking on cat's paws, Xander made his way to his room, going to his closet where he got a duffle bag that he stuffed with Hawaiian shirts, jeans, t-shirts, and socks.
'Your wardrobe needs an overhaul if you're going to be an assassin,' Hank said. 'No one is going to take you seriously if you go around wearing Hawaiian shirts.'
'Ah c'mon Hank, don't be such a stiff,' Xander fired back as he reached for an old metal Folgers coffee can, his life's savings.
'I'm not a stiff. I 'make' stiffs. We all do.' Agent Forty-Seven aka Hank replied.
'Dude, your humor is dark… and I love it,' Xander replied with a slight grin on his face as he tossed the can in his duffle. He was about to leave when he heard a stumbling shuffle come towards his room. He easily fell into a loose defensive stance even as he hefted the duffle on one shoulder.
The scent of alcohol reached Xander's nose moments before the door was pushed open and Tony Harris stood there on unsteady feet. He looked at his progeny with unfocused eyes before he slurred out, "Ehh, where you been boy?!"
"Out, I had to chaperone some kids for Halloween last night, remember?"
"Righ' fookin crotch goblinsh, the lot of em!" Tony slurred. "Glad we unly had da two ah ye."
"Two?" Xander said, confused. "I'm an only child, dad."
"Yer not… well ya are now. Since ya let sum freak run off wit yer twin shishter wen ya were five. Dog face an' yellow eyes kep shayin'. We never found er… And it was yer job as her brodder to keep her safe, ya useless shite." Tony accused his voice rising.
Xander felt his blood run cold. He didn't remember having a twin sister, or rather, he assumed she was an imaginary friend, but from Willow he knew childhood amnesia was a thing, and what Tony just described. A man with a dog face and sulfur yellow eyes… that could only be one thing in this town. "I see, so that's how it is," Xander said as he looked at the floor. His parents drinking and his fathers abuse suddenly just made a lot more sense. It didn't justify it by any means, but it made sense now. "Well, you'll be happy to know I'm moving out Tony. I'm sorry for what happened to her, but I was five, man! What could you honestly expect me to do?"
"You dun even 'member her name do ya?" Tony said, sounding shocked. "It was Lexi, the sista you failed ta pretect, Lexi Ameila Harris, and you fergot!? Yer own sista?!"
"I was a little busy trying to avoid beatings by you Tony."
"You deserved every one boy!" Tony snarled at him like a wolf. "You can' protect nuthin. Not family, not that friend of yers… Wuz his name? Jackie… No, it was Jessie wasn't it? Couldn't stop him from goin' missin' either could- hurk!"
Tony stopped speaking because Xander had both of his hands wrapped around the man's throat, and he had lifted him bodily off the ground, with a look of tranquil fury on his face Xander said in his coldest calmest tone as his sperm donor sputtered in his grasp. "You do not. Get to say his name. Ever! His name does not. Get to pass from your foul lips! Jessie was more family to me than you ever were!" He dropped Tony to the floor, and stepped over his sputtering frame, glazing behind him coldly he said, "I'm sorry, about Lexi but you've blamed me for years for something beyond my control. Out of respect for her I won't kill you, but as far as I'm concerned I have no father, or mother. We're done. Goodbye Tony. I won't be coming back here, ever."
As he walked down the hall, Xander noticed Jessica Harris, his mother huddling in a corner staring at him in fear. "Goodbye Jessica, I hope we never meet again," He said just as coldly as he made his way downstairs and out of the Harris household for the last time, metaphorically and physically closing the door on that chapter in his life as he shut the door behind him.
(...)
As Xander got in the back seat, Buffy observed him, "Everything go okay Xan?"
"Better than I expected Buffy," He said, his tone terse and lacking his usual goofy attitude.
Looking at him the rearview mirror Joyce asked, "Did you have it out with your dad Xander?"
Buffy whipped her head around to look at him. "What? But I didn't hear a thing?!"
"I'd be a pretty lousy assassin if you heard something Buff," Xander replied, flicking his gaze up to meet hers; his hazel eyes were like flecks of multi-hued glass.
"Xander…" Buffy swallowed.
"You didn't kill him, did you Xander?" Joyce asked with a bit of worry in her tone.
The boy in the back seat shook his head. "No Joyce, I just choked him out."
"Jesus! Wait, mom, how can you be so calm about this?!" Buffy asked, looking back and forth between her male best friend and female parental unit.
Joyce just rolled her eyes. "Buffy sweetheart. I run an art museum. People have been killing each other for money since time immemorial. It's been written, and painted about, and all kinds of things."
"But Xander just admitted to being a hitman, and that doesn't freak you out?" Buffy asked.
Joyce shook her head, "No more than all these gangs on PCP killing each other with barbecue forks does. This town is dangerous after dark. I know that much, and if you, Willow, and Xander want to do some form of neighborhood watch, then I'd be happier knowing one of you is competent should it get dangerous."
"Right," Buffy said glaring at Xander using the rearview mirror, "Neighborhood watch."
"Mr. Giles the school librarian is also a part of this Joyce. Adult supervision and all, you know?" Xander added helpfully or so he hoped.
"Ah, well that is a relief," Joyce said. "Hitman or no, you kids shouldn't be out all night on your own… though that does explain why you're tired all the time Buffy."
"Yeah, I guess you could say it's an after school thing I'm taking super seriously mom," She said, giving an awkward little laugh. "Unfortunately this isn't going to give me any college credits or anything."
Joyce nodded, but added, "No but putting something like that on a resume or something is always good. Shows people you're motivated."
"That's true," her daughter conceded, "I didn't think of it like that,"
Joyce winked at her daughter, "I'm not just old cause I'm your mom. I actually do know a thing or two, if you bother to ask me from time to time."
The Slayer was thoroughly chastised, "Right, thanks mom, sorry."
Joyce ruffled her daughter's hair affectionately, "It's fine, I was a teenager once too you know, always thinking I knew better than my parents too when I was your age."
Buffy teased, "When you were my age, tv wasn't even a thing yet was it?"
Joyce pushed her daughter playfully on the shoulder, "Of course it was! There were just less channels back then. When I was your age, we actually went to concerts live."
"Cool," Buffy said.
"It was," Joyce agreed.
"Umm I hate to interrupt this mother-daughter bonding moment," Xander said feeling truly remorseful, "But I just wanted you to know Joyce that you can have whatever is in this coffee can," He tossed it to Buffy, which she deftly caught, "And I'll find a job and pay you a proper rent later."
"Xander, I already told you, you're not paying me rent," Joyce huffed. "Your seventeen for goodness sake."
"Seventeen, hitman, and living at his friend's place free of charge? Something doesn't add up in that statement."
"Now when you say find a job, do you mean…?" Buffy trailed off as she looked into the coffee can.
"I mean a normal job," Xander replied with a sigh, "I'm not ready to do business yet," He said borrowing some lingo from John.
"Thank God for that," Buffy said as they pulled into the Summer's driveway.
"I take it you have a problem with my chosen profession, despite the fact we're on the neighborhood watch together?" He kept the ruse up, but he trusted the Slayer could read through the lines.
"Yeah, you kill people, with guns, I don't like the idea of either," Buffy told him flatly.
"Xander, what kind of people would you not kill given the choice?" Joyce inquired honestly, curious about his mindset, interrupting her daughter so she did not worsen the situation.
"Children and Ladies," Xander replied easily. "I say ladies specifically because women can be evil, and by virtue, not be a lady."
"Makes sense," Joyce replied. "Good to know you still have moral scruples."
"I'm a hitman not a monster Joyce," Xander said as he got out of the truck, grabbed his stuff, and left the two Summers family members alone for now.
(...)
After setting himself up in the guestroom, Xander asked to borrow Joyce's computer for a bit, saying he needed to fill out a resume. So now he sat in front of a computer, trying to figure out what to type. After about five minutes which he used to fill out basic information he asked his 'tenants' 'Any ideas guys?'
'I have experience with this,' Hank supplied. 'Write down the following'
"Experienced plumber, metallurgist, and waste management specialist who can, for a nominal fee, quickly, efficiently, and discreetly clean up even the big messes?" Xander read back "Are you sure? Some people might actually think I'm a plumber or metallurgist, or a… waste management specialist," He said with distaste as he read off the last one.
"Highly unlikely," Forty-seven replied, "The likelihood of someone having the degrees and qualified experience in all three of those fields is too astronomical to be believable. It's code for a hitman."
"It's old fashioned, but he's right," Kiritsugu agreed. "This is sure to get someone's attention,"
"John?" Xander asked.
"They aren't wrong, it really is old fashioned, but it's how a lot of people start out. Also it gives you anonymity and plausible deniability. The worst they can charge you on that resume is fraud if you do somehow get a job offer that isn't related to being a hitman. Better then how I first started out," The Baba Yaga confirmed.
"Okay, I'll place an ad in the paper and see if we can get any hits," He sent it to the newspaper via email and with Joyce's permission, used her card to fund the transaction. Paying her what little money he had to fund it. All while silently praying it would work.
(...)
The next morning at breakfast no less he saw his ad in the paper, and as he and Buffy were eating a quick breakfast before heading off to school, the house phone rang, and Joyce answered it.
"Yes? Oh my! Yes he's right here just a moment," Covering the receiver, she whispered hurriedly, "Xander dear, the Mayor himself is calling for you! He answered your ad!"
"The Mayor?! Uhh right," He quickly got up and took the phone from an excited Joyce as Buffy spit out her cornflakes and was sputtering over her mother's announcement. "Hello?"
"Ah, you must be Mr. Harris, yes?" A jovial older man spoke from the other end of the line.
"Yes Mr. Mayor, and please, call me Xander. How can I help you?"
"Call me Wilkins please, Xander. I have an urgent matter that requires your attention and I was wondering how soon you could drop by city hall so we could talk about it son."
"Well sir, it's a weekday and I'm supposed to be in class in like," He checked a clock above the stove, "Twenty minutes,"
Wilkins laughed genially like he was his favorite uncle. Xander hated his Uncle Rory almost as much as his dad. "Never fear, I think I can get away with writing you an excuse m'boy! Do you need me to send a car to pick you up?"
"No thank you, the weather's nice today, so I'd rather walk if it's all the same to you," The teen replied, not trusting the mayor enough to get into a car of his at the moment. Too easy for it to be a trap.
"Perfectly fine, exercise and fresh air does the body good after all!" Wilkins replied genuinely. "It does my old heart good to see young people looking after their health, anyway, I'll see you in about thirty minutes?"
"Make it forty-five, I need to make myself presentable for business," Xander replied and requested simultaneously.
"Of course. I am already impressed with your etiquette. I look forward to our meeting Alexander."
Xander nodded, even though the mayor couldn't see it, "As do I Mayor Wilkins, till then," Xander replied before hanging up the phone. Turning around he tried and failed to resist his urge to smirk, because Buffy was staring at him, shocked still. "Close your mouth before you catch flies, Buffster."
"You got called by the Mayor!" She said at last. "The Mayor!"
Xander nodded, "Yes, the Mayor. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go change outfits. I can't go to meet the mayor dressed like this. Need to look professional after all," He replied as he excused himself.
Before he could, Joyce pulled him into a hug and kissed him on the cheek, "Congratulations Xander dear!"
He smiled, doing his best not to blush, as he replied, "Thanks Joyce."
Buffy watched the interaction between the two with narrowed eyes. 'Does Xander…' She began to wonder.
Only for her thought to be interrupted by her mother who said, "Hurry up Buffy or you'll be late for school."
"Yeah sure mom, have a nice day, and be safe okay?" She said as she grabbed her backpack and quickly left the house, thoughts awhirl in her mind.
(...)
Dressed in his suit, Xander left the Summer's residence at what to him was a quick jog but for anyone else sans Buffy would've been a full on sprint. He made it to city hall with time to spare, mounting the steps easily and even throwing his hands up in the air like Rocky while humming Eye of the Tiger as he did so, "Okay, enough fooling around, time to get serious," He said to himself as he fixed his red tie before heading into the building.
The place was like a human anthill. People in suits were rushing to and fro and glancing at the directory as he walked past he knew the direction to the mayor's office and silently made his way there.
The Mayor's secretary was an older man who looked like the nervous twitchy type. "Excuse me," Xander said gently so as not to startle the man, "I have an appointment with the Mayor?"
"Ah, yes, you… you must be Mr. Harris," The man said while dabbling at his sweating brow with a handkerchief. "I'm deputy mayor Allan Finch, nice to make your acquaintance," He offered him his free hand, which Xander shook.
"Pleasure is mine Mr. Finch. Or would you prefer Allan?" Xander asked.
"Allan is fine," He said giving a semblance of a smile, "Alexander is alright I take it?"
"Well, it does seem more professional than Xander which is what my friends call me doesn't it?" He hedged.
Allan nodded, "Professionalism is important. New to the working world?"
Xander laughed, "Something like that yeah,"
"Well, feel free to come to me for tips and I'll do what I can to help," He said earnestly, "I grew up in Wisconsin so this heat is hell on me."
"Cheesehead," Xander joked.
"Lizard person," Allan fired back in good humor. "Go on in, the mayor is waiting for you."
"Gah, you know too much!" Xander joked, "Thanks, seeya later Al, wish me good luck?"
"Good luck Xander," Allan said, "Wonder what the mayor wants with him?"
(...)
Knocking on the door before letting himself in, the teen poked his head in, "Mayor Wilkins? You wanted to see me?"
The Mayor stood up from his desk. He was a man in his late fifties, maybe, wearing a tweed vest over a white shirt, beige slacks, and loafers. "Alexander my boy! So good to finally meet you!" He moved forwards and gripped his hand in a firm handshake. He motioned to the two sofas he had in his office set between a wooden coffee table, in sharp contrast to the gray carpet, and heavy blue drapes that were pulled back letting the sunlight in from the window that his desk was situated in front of. "Please, have a seat. Coffee, tea?"
"No, thank you. Another time perhaps," Xander said as alarm bells went off in his head. The moment Xander entered the man's presence he heard a buzzing in his ears, like that of a bug zapper.
'Kid, your magus sense is going off! You detected a boundary field,' Kiritsugu warned him. 'That guy is a magi, and a powerful one! Be careful and don't accept food or drink from him!"
'Understood, thanks Kerry,' Xander replied. "I ate before coming over, but thank you. Now, you had a business proposition for me?"
"Straight to the point are we?" Wilkins tittered as he poured obsessive amounts of sugar and cream into his coffee. "I can respect that in a man I suppose," Picking up his coffee mug, the mayor went over to his desk, picked up a manilla folder before sitting down across from Xander and sliding the folder across to him. "Your target is one Billy Fordham. He's been hunting down demons at random and drinking their blood hoping one of them will cure his terminal brain cancer. He's currently in Sunnydale and if he continues what he's doing son, well, word could get out about the other tenants of this town and cause a mass panic."
"So it's you, the one who's covering it all up," Xander said, flicking his gaze to the man.
"Of course," Wilkins confirmed, "Why if people knew, there would be mass hysteria, panic in the streets, people would be stabbing each other in the heart with bits of wood thinking they were vampires. Think about it."
"Fuck!" Xander swore, knowing the man was right, and not liking it one bit.
"Language," The mayor said, chastising him, "But yes I am the one who has been taking care of our little town. Seriously Alexander. Do you know how hard it is to make sure all of our residents are satisfied?"
"There are literal vampires running around at night killing people?! How is that orderly?"
"We are on a gateway to hell Alexander. I think you being acquainted with the Slayer would give you insight. Heavens, the deaths have only risen with your little group coming together. Just as the Slayer hunts those that go bump in the night. She attracts them as well. I would compare them to moths being drawn to a flame if you will. They just can't help themselves. However, not every demon is like those blood-sucking mosquitoes. Have you ever been to Willie's Bar?"
Xander was a little confused at the turnabout in conversation, "Uhm no I am kind of underage. Is there anything I should be worried about going on there?"
"Oh lord no. Ole Willie is just the best place to go for information and meet the more welcoming denizens of the night. Go there rough up Willie a little and he will give you information for a price. Use this by the way. I can't have you running dirty money at your age," commented the mayor as he slipped Xander an envelope. When looking into it, he saw several Grants.
"You are giving me bribe money?"
"No. That is Willie's payment for information. He is actually quite legitimate in the information network. I can't have him being roughed up without paying his doctor's bill can I? You just don't do business that way but alas sometimes only violence is the way of showing authority to demons," sighed the Mayor looking as if he aged several years just talking the conversation.
'Guys any take on this?' thought Xander.
"He is definitely a Magi. That doesn't necessarily mean he is evil but be cautious. Running the Magus Association in my world would age anyone let alone a whole town infested with vampires and demons. I believe there is some truth but take it with some salt. He is probably hiding something," Kiritsugu replied.
"He reminds me of an owner of a Continental Hotel. Business first but also placing the needs of your clients. He has to appease humans and demons that don't have human common sense. It's a difficult job. I do not envy his position," spoke John wistfully.
"He probably doesn't want to get his hands dirty but knows the deed has to be done. I have met my fair share of people in my line of work Xander. I don't think you need to worry too much. Right now anyways. He is simply a customer buying your services. Him covering the bribery is also to help not tie anything to you. A mayor paying a local barkeep is not that bad. Just makes people think he may have a drinking problem. Better than being caught paying an assassin," commented Agent 47.
"About my pay for this job?" Xander asked, Hank reminding him of that fact.
The Mayor nodded, "Ah yes, I was thinking fifty thousand cash and three gold coins. Does that sound fair to you?"
"Ask to see the coins!" John said immediately.
"I would like to verify the coins first please," Xander asked.
"And people say the young lack wisdom," The mayor replied nodding sagely as he got up and walked over to his desk, unlocking a drawer before coming back and pushing a gold coin towards Xander.
A woman standing atop a laurel leaf next to a shield with the words Ex Unitae Vires above it in harsh relief which meant "Out of unity comes strength". Flipping it over, he found a lion rampant in front of a shield, above the words Ens Causa Sui meaning "Something generated within itself,", and beneath that was the Roman numeral MMI standing for two-thousand.
"Shit," John swore. "These are Gold Coins used when I was alive. As trade for favors… which means the Continental, the High Table… they exist here."
'Let's not panic.' Xander advised. "Thanks, I'll take the job."
"Excellent!" The mayor said, clapping his hands together. "How soon can you start?"
"Right away Mayor Wilkins. "Also if you could have ten grand paid toward the mortgage of the Summer's residence, I'd appreciate it."
Wilkins beamed, "Consider it done my boy. Good will hunting," He called as Xander got up and left his office.
(...)
Xander headed down to Willie's Bar first, with bribe money in hand. The place was a hole in the wall, literally. There was a hole in the wall of an old abandoned building, where Willie had set up shop. The bar, if it could be called that, consisted of boards set up on saw horses, as old fans spun listlessly on old fashioned fan belts throughout the parlor. Demons of all shape and size sat around drinking, and several off in a corner were gambling… with kittens? 'Just when you think you've seen it all,' Xander thought to himself as he sauntered up the bar, feeling every demon's eye on him as he did so.
"W-Whatdaya want?!" The Barkeep asked nervously as he fidgeted with a glass.
"A rum and coke, also some information," Xander said as he passed the envelope full of bills across the makeshift counter.
Willie peered into the packet and began making his shot as he asked, "So the Mayor finally decided to do sumthin about that crazy vamp wanna-be did he," He raised his voice and said, "Hey everybody! The Mayor finally hired a fixer!"
"Thank Evil!"
"Praise the First!"
"First rounds on me Fixer!" one demon betting in the corner called.
Xander, unused to getting praise from demons of all things, blinked, "Umm your welcome? Does anyone know where I can find this guy? Or what he looks like?"
"I can help you out man," A mass of bugs wearing a turtleneck said, while somehow smoking a cigarette. "Some of my swarm got a look at him out in LA a few hours back just gimme a sec."
"Thanks uhh,"
"Weveel, Weveel Hive man, painter. Grower, toker, and hater of the establishment." Weveel introduced.
'Oh my god he's a hippy demon,' Xander thought to himself. "Thanks Weveel,"
A tendril of insects formed an arm that waved him off, "No problem man, got any wood by chance?"
Xander shook his head, bemused, "No why?"
"Aww man, it's been awhile since I've… had my fix if you know what I mean? That sweet, sweet, redwood and asbestos blend dude,"
"Tell you what, you get me a picture, and I'll have Willie here hook you up with a week's supply of your fix Weevel."
"Shit man… no joke?"
"No joke," Xander promised, "After all, a guy going around acting like a serial killer is bad for business, right Willie?"
The Bartender grimaced, but nodded, "Right, dead customers can't pay after all, hehehe,"
"I'm your bug dude," Weevel replied before he quickly set a canvas on an esil before swallowing some black paint, moments before a crunching noise could be heard and, seconds later he began spitting the crushed remains of his own hoard, along with the paint onto the canvas. Yet much to Xanders surprise the paint moved. Shaping itself into the likeness of his target. Seeing the human's confusion the bug demon explained, "I can control my bugs even when it's just their remains, dude. The only way to kill me is to kill the 'queen' bug which is constantly moving around my body."
"Damn. So I'd just have to set you on fire then…" Xander asked
"Yes… no! Well, maybe," Weevel said. "I dunno anyway dude, here's your pic, want me to autograph it?"
"Sure why not?" Xander kinda liked Weevel. "So do you only eat wood?"
"Well, mostly. One time, I ate this dead homeless guy who somehow got mummified by getting trapped in a wall. It was gnarly man. But for the most part I'm what you'd consider a 'vegan'. I eat wood, decaying things in dumpsters, that you guys throw away. I really like cheese, cause you know, it's basically mold."
Xander tucked that little piece of information away, "I like you already Weeve"
The mass of bugs handed him the picture and made a hang ten gesture with another tendril of insects, "Sweet man."
Xander took a good long hard look at the painting. He was a gawky and awkward looking teenager, with a curly fringe of hair hanging down in front of his face. He wouldn't look so dangerous. Hell, he'd be almost clownish if it weren't for the ring of blood that stained his lips in the photo. "When the hell did you get this Weeve?"
"Crazy punk had just jumped a vamp, and ripped its jugular open… with his teeth. I'm tell you man, that harshed my buzz what good."
"Jesus," Xander said.
"Oi language!" One of the patrons yelled as the lot of them winced.
Xander rubbed the back of his head, "Sorry?"
A demon that looked like a humanoid stork chastised, "Honestly, you kiss your mother with that mouth?"
While one of the poker players, a bulldog chomping an a cigar bit out, "Course he doesn't, this is California, not Alabama,"
"Oooh!" The other players in the game called out at the same time.
"Okay, thanks Weeve," He waved to the patrons. "Nice meeting you guys but I'm on the job so maybe I can get to know you all better later. I need to get going." He excused himself as he left the bar, heading towards the first place he could think of a teen Ford's age going… school.
(...)
The moment Xander arrived on campus, he was greeted by the sweet ductal tones of Principal Snyder. "HARRIS! My office! Now!"
"I'd love to, Principal Snyder, but I'm on the clock," Xander replied.
"Get your butt in this chair Harris before I expel you!" Snyder snarled, his face turning an impressive shade of purple as he spoke.
Sighing through his teeth Xander detoured into the principal's office, saying, "Can we make this quick sir? I'm doing a job for the Mayor at the moment, and I'm trying to make a good first impression."
Leaning over his desk and glaring at him Snyder asked coldly, "How did you do it Harris? Did the mayor see you saving a damn cat from a tree or something? Just what did you do to not only get on his good side but also get a job as a junior clerk at city hall?!"
"Well I was bold enough to come into his office wearing the suit you see me in," Xander began, not knowing his official role on the payroll was Junior Desk Clerk.
Snyder's hand sliced through the air, "Come off it Harris! Like the Mayor would hire you of all people to be a janitor much less a clerk." Snyder sneered at him, "What do you have blackmail on the mayor or something? Maybe if I get it off you, I'll get to rub shoulders with people with real influence in this town. So here's how it's going to go Harris, either you cough up the blackmail by Friday, or you can consider yourself expelled."
Xander just looked at the man and blinked a couple times before thinking, 'I wonder if I can get away with killing him?'
""Oh yeah."" all three hitmen in his head said at once.
Xander would've liked nothing more than to take the pencil on Snyder's desk and impale him in the eye with it, but he abstained. Instead, he took a breath. "Principal Snyder, I put an ad in the paper and the Mayor answered it. That's all. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a job to do. If you don't want to take me at my word, feel free to call the Mayor and ask him about it."
"Oh you can be sure I'll be doing that Harris, and once I find whatever blackmail you have, I'll finally be out of this hellhole of a school, and with any hope, I won't have to see you hellions again,"
Xander ignored the man. He had a job to do and a crazy blood drinker to find.
(...)
Xander searched high and low for his intended target in the likeliest of places. The AV Club, computer room, and men's toilets, all to no avail. 'Hmm, could he be in the library?' Xander wondered.
"You've already checked his other most likely haunts, if he isn't there, you'll have to start checking the unlikely places like under the bleachers, the track and the cafeteria, those are still the places where the popular kids and the jocks hang out right?" mentioned 47.
"Your thinking is too limited, he's a madman, a demonic serial killer not a student. He might not even be here, He could be looking for a vampire nest for all we know," Kiritsugu felt the need to add.
Xander shook his head, 'No, he's here, I can feel it, it's like… like a sixth sense, or seventh since I've got magic detection too. I can just tell somehow my prey is in the building.'
Hmm, Kiritsugu muttered to himself, "Are you perhaps a Sibyl, Xander?"
"A what?" Xander muttered as he followed this instinct he had to his target.
"Someone who becomes a vessel for a soul in an attempt to revive it artificially. One with a high affinity for astral bodies sometimes connect to the memories and consciousness of such entities without being aware of it," The Magus Killer informed him, "I had wondered just what it was about you that let you host all three of us at the same time, and this is the only reasonable conclusion I can come up with."
'So you're saying I have a talent for being possessed? Great, even my special skill sucks,' Xander sighed in his mind as he rounded the corner. The feeling his target was close sent a pleasant chill up his spine.
And there he was, down the hall, looking a lot more filled out than in the picture Mayor Wilkins had shown him in his office. Billy Boy was swoll now, his shirt straining every time he moved, yet he looked even more pasty and sickly pale than in his picture, and had the sides of his head shaved making himself look like he just got outta bootcamp or something. What's more, he was talking to Buffy like they were old friends.
"Xander!" The Slayer called catching sight of him and waving him over, "Xan come over here! There's someone I want you to meet!"
Plastering on a fake smile like he did everyday he was at school, he sauntered up and said, "Hey Buffster, who's this your boyfriend of the week?"
That earned him a slap on the arm, and a chuckle from the guy. "No, I'm an old friend of Buffy's from Hermy. Names Ford, nice to meet you," He said, offering Xander a handshake.
'Well fuck,' Xander thought to himself as he shook his target's hand, noting the above average strength. 'She does know him. This complicates things, now I have to figure out some way to kill Ford and either make it look like an accident, or make sure Buffy never finds out about it.'
"Ahem, did you say accident?" Hank asked.
'Oh, right, that's your speciality isn't it?' Xander recalled. 'Any ideas?'
"Several, we just need to get him to the Bronze." Hank replied.
"Wanna show Ford an old fashioned Sunnyhell welcome and take him to the Bronze tonight Buff?" Xander suggested.
The Slayer beamed, "Great idea Xan!" She turned to Ford, "Up for a bit of clubbing Ford?"
He smiled awkwardly, "Sure why not? See you all round eight?"
"Sounds like a plan," Buffy agreed chipperly.
'Sounds like a plan indeed,' Xander thought grimly, almost feeling bad about involving Buffy in his little scheme, no matter how minutely. But he had a job to do after all, and he was going to get it done, by any means necessary.
(...)
Word Count: 13,750 Number of Pages: 8/7/2023
(...)
AN: Hello, good readers one and all and welcome to something that will probably end up in the idea vault. It's just an idea I had that I needed to get out of my head. Whether or not I do more with it is up to all of you honestly. So if you want it to be more than a one-shot. You know what to do, REVIEW! That is all. Now here's my personal Siskel and Ebert to wrap things up.
Snowy: So first things first NO SERVANTS! Okay. Now that is out of the way. I am most happy about this story and like how this story is written. Xander is challenged mentally, and physically in this story in his test of being an assassin. Be careful fellow readers. This is a story of intrigue, drug-running, and other things of the dark underworld. This is a dark world and we will see how much darker we can make. Come along and Review, they fuel our engines and help make this a continued story.
First Hassan: Another one, another one, another one. Seems off I shouldn't be surprised, there's nothing stopping the mad author from his muse. Hehe. We're going mad with our new projects and products!...Hello everyone! First Hassan here and today we are bringing you a new story added into our vault of fic ideas! Now me, Bubba and Snowy has talked about a similar idea, one of which if Grey had the most brightest and intelligent, brilliant mind in his shard, why not Xander have the most deadliest assassins in the entire world, John Wick, Agent 47, Kiritsugu Emiya and other assassins I am not authorized to reveal.
Thanks for reading and till next time everyone, this has been an Inkblot Bros production! Peace!