Title: The Show Must Go On
Author: meagan <nutmeg@serv.net>
Summary: Xander remembers something that happened over the summer.
Distribution: Please ask.
Spoiler: "The Freshman."
Rating: G/PG, I think.
Disclaimer: Of *course* they belong to someone else. If they were mine, things would be different. Specifically, they belong to Mutant Enemy, Fox, WB, and anyone else I forgot.
Feedback: I save it and read it whenever I need a happy.
Note: I know this is extremely short (and the title sucks), but I'm having problems concentrating on anything and thinking because...
Warning: My balcony was being resurfaced when I wrote this, so my entire apartment was huffer heaven. I couldn't even open the windows to air the place out because the fumes were coming from outside. Even at work and thus away from the stench, it still affected me. So add to that my usual huge dose of caffeine plus all the fun headache remedies (to combat the fumes high headache) I had flowing through my system, and you end up with this.

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"And this is Riley. He's a TA for psych."

Xander stared. And remembered.

~~~
"What do you mean, you can't make it in tonight?" The club manager was not a happy camper. Silently, he listened to the caller on the phone. He also turned an interesting shade of magenta. "No. I don't care if you have a fever of a hundred and three and are projectile vomiting. You have a show to do!" A few more seconds passed as the sick person attempted to reason with him. Finally, his eyes settled on someone approximately the same size as the person about to be fired. "Look, either come in tonight or don't come in again." And he hung up.

Xander had wandered into the dressing room to collect glasses to be washed. As he collected them, he noticed the decidedly hostile feeling in the room and tried to get out as quickly as possible without being noticed.

He failed. "You." The voice compelled him to pay attention. "We have a problem. You're going to solve it." The purple-faced man flung open a closet door and began to throw clothing items at Xander. "Put those on. Finn!" A tall, muscular man dressed in scraps of fabric similar to the pile in Xander's arms turned his attention to Xander and the shouting man. "Here's your partner for tonight. Don't drop him, okay? He's not covered with our insurance, and I can't afford a lawsuit right now."

~~~
"It's nice to meet you."

Riley's voice finally brought Xander out of his daze. "Oh. Yeah. Same here." Carefully, he avoided the gaze of the older man. "Well, Buff, gotta run. I've got to... Go. See you later?"

Buffy watched Xander leave, slightly confused. "You know, if that was anyone other than Xander, I would think that was way weird, but somehow it works for him." Now she shrugged. "Oh, well. So, lunch now?" When Riley didn't answer, she turned to him. "Are you okay? I'm sorry about him. He doesn't mean to be rude, but sometimes he just gets like that."

Slowly, Riley shook his head. "No, it's not that. It's just that he looks familiar."

"Well, maybe you've seen him with me? I mean, he's one of my closest friends, so we hang out a lot."

Suddenly, it hit him. He remembered. The club. "Oh." Now how to cover this? "I mean, that must be it." He attempted a smile, but it only half-formed. "So do I need to be jealous?"

She giggled. He managed to refrain from glaring at her. Somehow, he was offended that she found the idea of romantic entanglements with Xander amusing. "Oh, no, absolutely no need to be jealous. We're friends. That's it." Now she picked up his hand. "Now, that lunch you promised?"

Distracted, he nodded. If the brunette was one of her closest friends, they were all in for a very, very long year.

~~~ the end ~~~