madimpossibledreamer | Walker of Night Part 1

Written in 2012 when I was still reading way too much Spike/Xander (not that there's anything wrong with it, just that I'm not obsessive anymore) and had barely met Spike yet (I got excited about Buffy so I started reading fanfic and pretty much next thing you know I was recognizing episodes from fanfic...yeah, that's normal). (And, again, most of the ones I read don't include the scene in Seeing Red because it just doesn't make sense in a world where Spike and Xander are actually dating, so. That, or I was just selectively filtering. I may have been selectively filtering. I do that.) I like the feel (it's got some really good lines, and I super like the two introductory scenes), but I feel weird about having a female Spike in this one because it's just so tropey and not even aware tropey.

Main Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Summary: Xander really shouldn't play with magical artifacts.
Word Count: 2026
Rating: Teen?
Pairing: There's a bit of Xander/Spike hinted at.

        They’d been searching for the stupid cursed artifact for hours now, and had nothing to show for it. By now, Xander was beginning to believe it didn’t exist. In fact, he was beginning to believe that none of this existed and it was just a stupid dream where he had to search for something for hours and never found it. He was no stranger to that kind of futility. In fact, by this point he was pretty sure he was on first-name terms with it.
        “How much longer until we become searchers of the giving up variety?” he asked hopefully. Surely they could be doing better things by now. Like eating donuts. He’d be happy to go for donuts. Ice cream, even.
        “Not giving up,” the predictable response came back from the Slayer. She paused, and admitted, “…although I’m starting to think that we were lied to.”
        Willow popped up from behind a pile of books, red hair covered in dust. “Well, yeah, you kind of did get that information from a demon that you slew.” Her eyes widened as she noticed Xander reaching out for a necklace, glittering at him from a hanger. “I wouldn’t touch that. I think it has a spell on it.”
        Donut Boy sighed and let his hand fall. Necklace pretty. And yes, thanks brain, gone from babbling to Caveman Talk. Just happened every now and then. Not a problem. As annoying as it could be. At least he wasn’t drinking any spelled beer.

        As they were leaving, the Buffster finally acknowledging defeat, Xander couldn’t help himself. The necklace was practically calling out to him. He had some idea of how things would turn out; contrary to those vicious rumors, he wasn’t stupid. It was the Hellmouth. All sorts of things could happen and did on a fairly regular basis. That kind of temptation, he knew, only came from magic, and he knew, also, that things like that never were good.
        He reached out and touched it anyway.
        He felt a vague sort of surprise as his ears popped and a kind of pressure-not unpleasant, just strange-began building up behind his shoulderblades. He saw Buffy’s shocked face and heard Willow’s yell of fear and surprise as if in slow-motion. That’s funny, he thought, look how slowly they’re moving.
        And then everything sped up, and there was a louder popping sound, and, why, Xander Harris, meet Swallowing Darkness.

        Xander felt a slight surprise upon waking up and finding himself at college. How he’d got there, he wasn’t entirely certain, but the not-being-dead bit of the good. Or exploded, or all sorts of unpleasant side effects.
        His backpack was sitting next to him. He didn’t remember having owned one, but it had all his books in it, so it was obviously his. And wait, Xander Harris, you’re missing something important about this equation. Xander Harris, or at least the one he was acquainted with, didn’t go to college. The Xander Harris he knew lived in his parent’s basement and went through an embarrassing number of jobs that he wasn’t going to think about, no. No, not now, not ever.
        He sat up, scrubbing at the back of his head. Strangely enough, there was a Giles ‘What Have You Done’ speech playing in his ears, even though the Watcher wasn’t here. Well, former Watcher, anyway. That was sooo a sign he’d heard it far too often. Xander, my man, you are going to have to get in less trouble. Or try anyway.
        He picked up his backpack and struggled to get it onto his shoulders, then walked awkwardly down the hallway, absolutely not sure where he was going. Oh, yeah, dorky Xander. Some things never change.
        The next thing he knew, someone ran into him and his books were all over the floor. He tried to apologize without looking up, picking up everything that had spilled out, when a very mean foot came down on his hand, and he muffled a howl, staring up. Oh, yeah, bullies. Things don’t change, Xander, even when they obviously do. What was going on? Besides cruelties of an entertaining nature, at least for some people.
        One of the jocks was smirking at him. “Stupid Harris. When will you ever get the idea that you don’t belong here? You can’t make it.” “I heard that he only came back to college because he got kicked out of his parent’s basement,” someone muttered, which soon got hearty guffaws. “You’re stupid. You should get the message, Harris. People like you belong in menial jobs for the rest of your life.” “How in the world do you manage to ignore the need to hurt something as dumb and ugly as this?” a blonde hanging off of one of his tormentors asked, sounding honestly a little bit drunk, and he would know, because he served alcohol for a bit, and he’d seen enough of that, and she kept talking, and he tuned her out, because he didn’t need to hear about his family life, he had enough of that living it, thank you…
        The knee in his ribs hurt like he was going on fire, and he could have sworn he heard a crunch which kind of freaked him out, and through the haze he heard, “It’s impolite to ignore people. Especially my girlfriend.” And they proceeded to work him over, and they were kind of impressive, because they knew how to truly hurt him without showing too much so they probably wouldn’t get in trouble, and he’d learned to appreciate people who knew what they were doing that well…
        And suddenly the pain from at least one source was gone, and the others were shortly turning their attention to something else…and he caught a sight of a short girl with light hair. Buffy. Embarrassing. Really, he should fight more, at least, fight and win, because this having your friends-who-are-girls saving you thing was too far. Right now, though, he couldn’t think, the pain obscuring everything else. He could hear a voice, and it sounded a bit off, but really, he could drift off, because he couldn’t bring himself to care right now.
        He picks up his books and stands up before he looks at Buffy. Not that he’s not grateful, but there are a few questions that should be answered, like why he’s suddenly attending college, and…
        And his brain shuts down completely and does its best to restart. That’s not Buffy.
        That’s Spike. At least, he thinks it’s Spike. Aside from the whole, well, he’s a girl thing. And a really pretty girl at that. Still high cheekbones that you could practically cut yourself on, and no, not thinking about blood in the presence of a vampire, even if he-she-probably can’t hear him, and still spiked bleached hair and porcelain skin, with a punk-like effect. And those are somewhat smokey grayish black eyes, which isn’t exactly what he’d had as a guy, although Xander hadn’t been looking of course. Boots, jeans, hey, it’s just as if she’d just walked off the set of the Matrix, with that leather jacket. Fairly large ears, somewhat tight shirt, Halloween themed, cause Spike doesn’t need a holiday to wear something scary. And she’s smirking at him with a knowing look. “Xand, luv, you don’t need an invitation to look.” An eyebrow, the one with the scar, raised suggestively, and Xander most certainly did not let out a high-pitched girlish scream and run as far as he could in the opposite direction, hoping that this stopped soon, because really, this was just some sort of nightmare.

        Xander was beginning to get frustrated. This was the fifth time he had explained that Spike should be a guy and a vampire and totally not on their side, and he didn’t go to school and he was really, reaallly sorry about touching that necklace, but couldn’t things go back to normal soon please? And every single time, Giles had sighed in a long-suffering manner and then asked-again-was he sure that his memories were all intact, because it sounded like someone had messed with his memories. Everyone was staring at him in a oh-poor-Xander-why-does-all-this-stuff-happen-to-him way but no one was taking him seriously. Even if they didn’t believe him, they should go looking for the necklace, shouldn’t they? Since it seemed to be the cause of…whatever? But no, everything Xander remembered and said was suspect. Ignore the Donut Boy, that’s right, and if he stays this way the whole time it’s all his fault, right? Eventually, he just gave up and slumped onto the table, almost even ready to start hitting his head against it to deal with how completely dense everyone was being.
        “Really, Watcher, think ya’d have learned ta be more open-minded by now,” an English drawl met them all a second before Spike-still a girl Spike-made his-her-way out down the stairs from where she’d evidently been hiding. Effortlessly, she leaned against the wall, the smirk looking like a permanent fixture to her face. Which could totally be true. “All of you, actually. Tossers. Before you go sayin’ ‘it’s impossible’ go take a look outside, think for a mo ‘bout where you ‘appen ta live.” At least Willow looked slightly guilty about that. And since when did Spike become the voice of reason?
        “Xand, luv, you okay?” She glanced over at him, and he was surprised to see concern in her eyes.
        “You…you believe me?” He wasn’t sure how to react when she not only was talking sense, but cared about him and was the only one to believe him. That was just Can’t Deal With It weird.
        The side of her mouth turned up, exposing one very pointy canine-wait, she wasn’t vamped out. How could she be showing her vampy characteristics?... “Course I do. Don’t take much ta see things aren’t normal. And we’ve known ‘bout alternate universes for a while, on th’ darker side a’ things.”
        “Most happen to be demon home dimensions,” Giles pointed out quietly.
         “Sod off. Didn’t ask ya ta speak, did I, Watcher?” She flashed what looked like the peace sign at Giles, but since he looked offended it must not have been the peace sign. Some British thing probably. She looked back at him, and when he just kept staring at her with Massively Confused Expression, she reached out and rapped his skull with a knuckle.
        “Hey!” He tried to shrug her off, not that that would really work with the enhanced demonic strength, but oh, look, she was backing away chuckling.
        “What with them all being tossers, ‘m surprised ya’re acting even a mite normal, mate.” She actually sounded a bit affectionate, and that was just sending him into more weird territory, what with the him actually liking it portion of the program and all. “Now let’s get about gettin’ ya home, luv. If they don’t fancy joining in it’s their own ruddy fault. Now. It bein’ ya, really doesn’t surprise me, but how’d ya manage it anyway?”
        And then he went all blushy Xander and started talking about the searching and the necklace and he really couldn’t take it when the scarred eyebrow went up at him again. “Right, Donut Boy gets distracted by shinies,” she chuckled at him again, but he couldn’t even summon up the energy to care. She went all concerned again and practically shoved her face into his and seriously, he needed to stop getting distracted by…other things, because that would definitely not be of the good.
        “’m thick, luv. Travel through portal, ‘course you’re right knackered. ‘E’s goin’ in the spare bedroom, Watcher boy.” Spike ignored Buffy questioning things and Giles’ worried arguing and managed to pick Xander up with ease, putting him into a fireman’s carry that would be much more ridiculous and worrying if he wasn’t so tired and it wasn’t so warm. He settled for less of the thinkage and more of the snugglage into the nice soft warmness, because it was nice, and after what he’d gone through he could do with a bit of nice. He didn’t realize when the ‘warm and nice’ translated over into the ‘warm and asleep’.