Slayerless

Xander Magnet

Author: Xander Magnet
Rating: PG-13 (for the moment, may get violent later)
Feedback: Yes please! FB is the only thing that keeps me writing! (well that and the fact that the stories keep coming through my head!) Email me!
Spoilers: post season three
A/N: Huge thanks to Bill. Yes, the suggestions helped a whole lot!

The scream sounded again, definitely from within the cemetery. That probably meant vampires then. He needed to get a weapon quickly, he silently cursed himself for not having thought to carry a stake – who was he? Harmony?!

He spotted a few crates piled up next to back door of the Fish Tank. Without breaking stride he aimed a kick at them, the idea being to splinter them into usable stakes and grab one on the way past. That was the idea anyway.

Reality kicked in and his foot got tangled in the crates which, to add insult to injury, didn’t even break! For a heart-stopping moment he struggled to keep his balance but it was no use. He pitched forward headfirst and sprawled on the ground, his foot still encased in the damned crate!

Scrambling up, he ungracefully kicked at the nearby wall with his wood-encased foot. It took a couple of attempts but eventually he managed to get his shoe free. Punching the air, he did a little celebratory dance as he spotted the perfect stake substitute amongst the wreckage on the ground around him.

A third, and decidedly final sounding scream broke into his celebration. Crap! He scooped up the makeshift weapon and raced towards the sound praying he’d get there in time.

For once it seemed that luck was on his side as he got to the cemetery. Skidding a little on the damp grass, he spotted a small group just ahead of him and without any conscious thought he barged straight into the huddle. A girl in her early teens with long brown hair was being held down on top of a sarcophagus while a robed figure was holding a wickedly curved steel blade to her throat.

It was clear the girl had put up a fair struggle, but she had been badly outnumbered. Xander quickly glanced around the group, assessing them instantly for a weak spot. There were three more robed figures around the altar-like grave, and, surprise surprise, a squat Yoda-like demon thing with what seemed to be open sores all over it’s ugly little face. Damn, another demon raising cult! Like there aren’t enough already – oh no, some frat boys have to go round making it *easy* for them...

With no one around to prove himself to, Xander didn’t bother with the usual one-liners; instead he went straight for the immediate threat. Driving his fist straight into the face of the knife-holding figure, he followed it quickly with a kick to the shins. He grinned a little as the man clutched at his broken nose, somehow forgetting he was holding a sharp knife. With that one mistake, he did more damage to himself than anything Xander could have done.

The girl was on her feet the instant her captor released his grip. She turned out to be no mean fighter herself and someone had obviously shown her the best weapon against leering men is more often than not the humble knee. Trying not to laugh as another two men crumpled into pain filled balls around the petite girl, Xander focused on the others.

He watched as the final robed figure came at him, biding his time he sidestepped at the last moment, using the man’s own momentum as a tool, he flipped him onto his back. A quick blow to the side of his head and chalk that up as another point for the home team.

The demon glared at him maliciously, obviously not at all impressed with what it saw, then grinned evilly, not a good sign. Feeling something brush against his back, Xander risked a quick glance over his shoulder. It was the girl, she had backed up against him and was keeping a lookout for more trouble. She whispered from the corner of her mouth,
“What now?”
He risked another glance around and saw to his horror a much larger group of people headed their way.
“Um, run?” he suggested.

In moments they were out of the cemetery and heading back into town. Instinctively Xander knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to head to his house. No, when being chased by a demon and a pack of humans intent on sacrificing someone in Sunnydale, there was only one place to go – Buffy’s house. That was out of the question now though, so Giles’ apartment would have to do.

Before he knew it, they were there, with the demon and it’s followers hot on their heels. Without preamble he burst through the door, grateful that for once it wasn’t locked, and yelled out “Demon!!”

Giles and Willow were sitting at the far end of the room obviously in mid-conversation. They froze for a second as they took in the sight of a dishevelled Xander followed by a young scared looking girl bursting into the apartment. And then they were all business. Giles was on his feet in less than a second, reaching for the weapons and handing them to the rooms occupants. He hesitated for a second before handing the girl an axe, but then decided that if she was with Xander then she would probably be on the right side. The boy tended to be a very astute judge of character whether he realised it or not.

Her eyes widened as she was handed the archaic weapon but she didn’t seem over-awed at all. Instead she took up a classical fighter’s pose, either it was automatic to her or she had some training behind her, and watched the front door intently. They didn’t have long to wait, just seconds later and the room was over-run with robed figures who clearly weren’t expecting much resistance.

The demon and its motley crew of followers were relying on strength of numbers rather than weaponry. They stalled slightly as they saw the four people facing them down, each of them holding a sharp axe and doing a good job at disguising their shaky nerves.

“So, G-man, any ideas then, man with the plan?” Xander mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.
Xander. How many times have I told you not to call me that?” The exasperated tone in Giles voice masked his amusement.
“No plans then?”
“No,” the ex-Watcher shook his head.
“Um… guys?” Willow’s voice trembled as she tried to get their attention focused. The intruders kept up their approach. “Guys!” she shouted, causing Xander to turn towards her.
“Oh come on Will, I mean, it’s not like they even have weapons!!” The man he was facing instantly pulled a wickedly sharp knife and took another step towards him.
“Call that a knife?” Xander shrugged. “That’s not a knife. *This* is a knife!” His opponent looked at him in disbelief as he regarded the offending weapon. Xander shrugged, “Well actually it’s an axe, I’ve just always wanted to say that!” He brought the heavy oak handle up in a vicious blow that knocked the man to the ground in one smooth movement.
Yes!! his eyes widened as the fallen man was replaced by three of his compatriots, each of them armed and all headed straight for him.

Willow struggled to remember the words, but even the most basic protection spell escaped her for the moment. She watched helplessly as three men rushed towards Xander, tackling him and knocking him to the floor.

Panic-stricken, she finally grasped onto a spell which floated through her mind.
“Inciendere!”
It didn’t quite have the effect she was expecting. Instead of their attackers bursting into towers of flame, plumes of smoke appeared from the hems of their robes obscuring them from her sight for a moment. She took the opportunity to move towards the spot she had last seen Xander. A muffled curse from somewhere off to her left startled her, it sounded like Giles but she couldn’t remember ever hearing him swear before.

Still unable to see anything through the thickening smoke, she tripped over a comatose form. Please don’t be Xander! As gently as she could she rolled the body over only to give a startled shriek when it turned out to be neither Xander nor comatose. Before she could move, the man held a knife to her throat and forced her to stand. Feeling the cold steel against her neck, she tried desperately not to gulp. Whimpering a little, she felt herself being dragged backwards towards the door.

It was as though her voice was trapped by the pressure of the knife, she couldn’t call out for help and she could barely see through the slowly dissipating clouds of smoke from her mis-cast spell. Her captor’s gutteral voice rasped in her ear, “That’s right, you keep nice and quiet and we’ll just…” He was interrupted by a sudden thunk followed by a strange half ring. Suddenly the pressure at her throat was gone and she gradually realised it was because the man was no longer holding the knife. In fact, at the moment he was incapable of holding anything slumped unconscious against the dining table as he was. Looking up in disbelief she saw Xander holding Giles’ bulky black phone in his hand and grinning at her like a maniac. She looked around in panic and realised that the room had cleared, their attackers had all vanished.

“Yes, well. That would seem to be that then.” Giles, as ever, stated the obvious as he removed his glasses and gave them a disheartened wipe. Seemingly remembering that he had company he turned to the newcomers, “Tea?” he asked.
“Huh?” the brunette girl was clearly a little thrown by this.
“You’ll have to forgive him, he’s English, they tend to drink a lot of tea there…” Xander ducked as a half-hearted swipe was thrown at him.
“No, thanks.” The girl glanced round the apartment, taking in the ancient weapons and dusty books on magick. “Erm, thanks for everything. I guess I should be going now.” She backed towards the door, clearly more than a little spooked by what had happened to her.
“Hey, listen, I know it seems weird and all, but … you’ll be okay, promise…” Willow silently kicked herself, goddess that sounded lame! “What’s your name, sweetie?”
The girl looked around her, a little like a frightened rabbit, and yet there was something oddly familiar about her that Willow couldn’t quite put her finger on.
“Dawn, it’s Dawn. Now, I really have to go.” With that she bolted.

***

There was a steady and almost comforting beep coming from the monitors surrounding the blonde girl. Most of the nurses were astounded at how quickly the bruises and cuts had healed on this girl, but they knew better than to remark on that kind of thing in this town. Not one of them hadn’t dealt with at least one case of severe blood loss caused by an ‘accident’ with barbeque forks – even in mid-winter.

The duty nurse checked the IV drip was steady, took a note of the blood pressure reading and moved onto the next room in the ICU. She didn’t notice the slight change in the readings as she left the room. She didn’t notice the girl wake for a moment. She didn’t hear her whisper, “No, it’s not the right time…”

to be continued....

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