Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Shadowed Suspicion Chapter 3

[madimpossibledreamer]

Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Xander stares creepily at a mask and finds a useful course of action.
Word Count: 1588
Rating: K
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS.  READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

CAST OF CHARACTERS FIRST APPEARING IN CHAPTER 3
Andrew Wells-A reformed warlock/supervillain nerd that is now a Watcher.
Wesley Wyndam-Price-He is a former Watcher that was kicked out of the previous Watcher's Council. He did a brief stint as a Rogue Demon Hunter before joining up with Angel Investigations, run by none other than Angel. He also followed Angel and the others in the pseudo-detective agency into Wolfram & Hart, Firm of the Evil Demon Lawyers, ostensibly to harness the resources of the LA branch to do good rather than evil. Considering a number of things that happened during their employment, this may have been but a mere foolish pipe dream. Wesley, however, is still very useful when it comes to research.

 

          "I believe you, you know."  Xander finally tears his gaze away from the mask to see Andrew, as always trying to appear useful and sympathetic.

            He sighs and looks back at the mask.  By this point, it appears to be taunting him.  The thought had occurred to him, and since he kept expecting bloodshed to begin any second while it was out in the open, he decided to actually follow it for once.  "Why?"

            "Anything anyone's this obsessed with can't be good," the Watcher states with ready conviction.

            For once, Andrew has a point.  "Like Mollari and the Glory of the Centauri Republic?"

            That draws a laugh from the other Watcher, who sits, trying to be casual, on the nearby step.  "Have you seen Mista Morden?"  Not a bad imitation, either.

            "No, I don't think so.  But if I do anytime soon, I'll be sure to tell him I want his head on a pike."  He narrows his gaze at the mask, but if it's smirking, it's sure not to tell him anything.

            After a few seconds, the silence is broken again.  "Actually, I meant a little more like Pippin with the Palintír."

            Xander reacts reflexively.  "I don't want to touch it!"  Then why are you here? his brain asks sarcastically, and when he finds the answer, he hesitates for a second because it sounds kind of neurotic, but it's an answer and it's the truth and it certainly isn't messing around with dangerous artifacts that apparently only he thinks are dangerous, so he might as well…  "I'm keeping an eye on it to make sure it doesn't try any funny business."

            "If we weren't in the business we are, I'd wonder about your sanity.  As it is, I think you're probably actually saner than the rest of us, which is kind of scary if you think about it too much."  Andrew didn't seem about to leave, so it was probably as good a time as any to try to wriggle some information out of him.

            "Could we at least move it so that fledgling Slayers don't trip over it?  I don't feel comfortable with it anywhere near the people I care about, but we could at least get it out of the open."  Xander realized what he'd just said, and added hastily, "You know.  With…something that doesn't require touching it because something in me says that's a really bad idea."

            "Listening to voices inside your head now, are we?"  Andrew laughs, but he doesn't actually appear all that amused.  "Sorry, I don't think so.  I mean, Giles made a few phone calls, and that was it."

            "Frell."  His anger surprised even him, but after nearly a month of poor sleep, even happy-go-saving-the-world Xander Harris was getting a little on edge.  "Sorry.  Why am I getting ignored, again?"

            Andrew shrugged apologetically, though he looked a little wary of causing another outburst.  "Um…no offense, but you're not the magic guy.  And none of the magic guys and gals have noticed anything.  So…"

            Xander stared away, at the floor.  "I…I just feel helpless.  Like, I know this is going to cause a lot of trouble, and people I care about are going to get hurt, but there's nothing I can do because no one will listen."

            "There's always something you can do.  Even if it's staring creepily at a mask for hours."

            Goofy, sure, but it worked.  "Thanks, Andrew."

 

            Xander woke for the first time in weeks oddly unsleepy.  All fear and confusion and just general freaking out had vanished from his mind.  Unfortunately, he couldn't remember what, exactly, his dreamself had said as a pep talk.  He could use that more on a regular basis.

            Long experience showed him that research was the best response to vastly powerful, unknown artifacts.  Okay, yeah, so most of the time he fell asleep or read comic books or sniped at Spike, rather than actually help, but common sense, as well as reading those selfsame comic books, had taught him the precise necessity of research.  However, he wasn't Research Guy.  And neither Willow nor Giles was taking him seriously.  Andrew, being a former evil warlock and all, wasn't a bad choice for trying to figure out exactly how an evil mask might be out to kill them, but he might cave under pressure, especially if he thought it was in Xander's best interest.

            Still, someone was available.  Someone who, as he wasn't part of the new Watcher's Council, would have no real reason to discuss his research with them.  Especially if he points out that no one had really been listening to him.  He has a feeling Wesley Wyndam-Price, former Watcher, knows that feeling all too well, and would be sympathetic.  After he gets some real information, well, that's the point where he can throw everything he'd learned in his friend's faces, see if they listened then.

            A few years ago, he would've worried about being overheard.  As it was, well...the Watcher's package was pretty cushy.  Of course, old-fashioned things like nosy Slayers were still a problem, so he actually went outside the manor for the first time in a long while.  He went into the nearby village, after a cheerful wave and goodbye that had Willow smiling for the first time in what seemed like forever, and wandered until he found a lonely enough spot to make his call.

            He dials, and it rings a few times before he hears a voice on the other end.  "Good afternoon.  This is Wesley.  How may I help you?"

            "Hey, Wesley."  He's grinning.  These stuffy British types never change, and it's nice.  Comforting, in the midst of everything.

            He can even imagine the frown.  "Who is this?"

            Mock hurt creeps into his voice—he can't help the tease, and it's a lot easier, now, than it was before.  "It's Xander."  Losing the eye was painful, terrifying, and traumatizing, but after the initial shock, it was actually good for his confidence, however that worked.  And that meant he didn't have to feel as awkward anymore.

            Wesley, it seemed, hadn't been so lucky.  "A-ah.  Xander.  What can I do for you?"

            Now was the part for correctly phrasing this.  "I was wondering if you'd be willing to do a little research on something for me.  I ran across something that I...just got an evil feeling from and I want to know exactly how much damage it could do if it fell in the wrong hands."

            He can feel the quirked eyebrow from here.  "Oh?"

            He nods, then realizes Wesley probably can't see him and rolls an eye.  "The thing is, I got this horrible premonition of danger feeling from the thing.  No one else has noticed anything, and since I'm not exactly the guy wandering around with a wand or staff or crystal ball around here..."

            "They don't find you a very credible witness," Wesley finishes, sounding intrigued.

            "Yeah.  I'd like you to find some evidence that I can show to them proving that it should be locked away in one of the Council's securest vaults.  Barring that, evidence that I obviously am overdue for a vacation.  Not knowing is..."  He trailed off, because, again, Wesley was a grown man able to fill in the blanks himself.

            "I understand—although I warn you, because I work for a firm now, I can't do this gratis.  I will need to be paid."  The tone also stated: My time is valuable.  Not that Xander had expected anything else when he heard Tall, Dark and Broody and company were now running Wolfram and Hart, LA Edition.  They might not have 'sold out for money'—in fact, the 'sold out' bit was a debated point since the very beginning—but if only for the company they kept and appearance's sake, they had to at least ask.    And evil...if the First was any indication, it did well at creeping into your head and influencing you.  Asking anyone working at that place probably wasn't the best idea, but Xander couldn't see any other options.

            "Yeah.  I get lost at where, exactly, I'm supposed to spend a Watcher's salary anyway."  That, of course, was nowhere close to true.  Comic books, DVDs, memorabilia...  Still, he hadn't really been able to spend it much when he'd been in Africa, and since then he'd yet to find his spending limit.

            A laugh from Wesley's end.  Good.  People in general, especially British people, needed to get startled into laughter more.  After a moment, he explained, "I'd always believed food was the indulgence of choice.  And I believe Rupert is being far more generous than the previous Watcher's Council—not that it's hard, and when one has far fewer Watchers to spend it on..."

            "That's true."  Sobering, maybe, but he couldn't deny it as being truer than true.  "Okay, I have a few pictures of it I got to send you.  They're not great pictures, but I figured I'd be noticed if I tried to smuggle in a camera.  Given the fangs and the general vampire-ey appearance, if a bit more human-like than I'd expect, I thought it might be some kind of vampire artifact.  In which case, ex-Council would probably know a lot more about it than others I might ask.  Oh, yeah, another thing.  I want you working on this personally.  Don't delegate, even the small stuff.  You're okay, but..."

            "I can understand your...reticence to trust my department.  Even I'm not sure whether I can trust them, and I'm their boss."  A pause.  "I might have to put this request on hold briefly, depending on whether anything else comes up, but I'll make sure to notify you if I do."

            "Thanks, Wesley."  He hung up, and breathed deeply.  Air was of the good.