"Evolution Leaps into the Stream of Life" by Shadow Master

(BtVS/FF7 Universe/Marvel Comics/DC Comics)

email: ryley[underscore]breen

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and associated companies. I make no profit off of this whatsoever and have no intention of changing this for the remainder of my life. I write fan fiction because I enjoy doing so and because there are those that like reading my stories. Therefore I would greatly appreciate it if no lawsuits or other legal action was taken against me because I can promise you whatever you get out of me won't cover even a tenth of your legal fees.

Note 1: This is a fair warning to readers that what you're about to read will be decidedly different than your run-of-the-mill crossovers involving these properties. There WILL be deviation from canon. There WILL be unusual spins on classic characters, places and events. There may even be times when you might have to look up some information on Wikipedia or more specialized wikis devoted to the mentioned properties. If you dislike these sort of things and would prefer a more traditional crossover I suggest you hit the back button on your internet browser right now.

Note 2: Yes this starts off as your usual YAHF but that's most because it's a handy start off point. However rest assured that after this fanfic gets some traction it'll throw your predictions out the window.

Note 3: I won't give specifics (don't want to spoil the surprise too early) but in terms of origin points for the elements from Marvel Comics it'll be from their cinematic universe primarily with the mainstream comic book universe for those who have yet to show up in the movies. For the DC Comics element it'll be from the pre-Flashpoint universe not the post-Flashpoint universe.

Evolution Leaps into the Stream of Life

Earth-041097

Sunnydale, California, USA

10/30/97

Sunnydale High School, Evening, Xander's POV

"Xander? I'm not sure we should be doing this," Willow said from behind his crouched form, sounding like a girl that was about to do something that 'proper girls' were not supposed to.

"C'mon, Willow!" he said as he continued to go to work on the lock on the door in the hopes of picking it. "You've seen how he's treated us since he took over for Flutie. Do you really think he's not going to try and do SOMETHING to ruin the second greatest event in a teenager's life?"

"Second greatest?" she asked out of curiosity even as she looked about to make sure no one spotted them.

"Yep. Halloween is the second greatest and summer vacation is number one!" he said with enthusiasm, especially since he thought he felt himself making some progress.

"Not Christmas?" she asked, no doubt wondering why he hadn't chosen it as number one.

"Nope. With Christmas you have to get presents for other people, you get things you don't want but still have to smile about and some of the things you give others they don't like," he replied, showing that he had thought a lot about it. "With summer vacation there's no going wrong because people can decide on their own what they want to do or get. It's cheaper and you're more likely to be happy with what you get."

He didn't need to look at Willow to know she was rolling her eyes a bit at his line of logic but to him they had more important things to worry about at the moment. No, it wasn't some demon trying to end the world or a bunch of students dying under supernatural circumstances. While still capable of surprising or horrifying him from time to time, he'd become somewhat desensitized to what the nightlife of Sunnydale could throw at him. It'd gone from 'WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!' to 'this is SO not of the good' in terms of fear level, so it took something a little above average to get him emotionally distressed.

What he was concerned with now was the fact that tomorrow was Halloween and the Scooby gang planned on staying in to watch a horror movie marathon. Though Buffy had naturally wanted Deadboy there, he was actually looking forward to the get together because he was certain the Slayer would start spouting slayage advice for every movie. From Krueger to Jason to Michael, she'd point out the right way to kill them while ridiculing the lead actors for all the common sense mistakes they made trying to survive. He imagined it'd be kinda like watching Cordy tear into someone for the way they dressed, citing numerous violations of the fashion code.

It'd be worth a few laughs at the very least and skimming from the Summers family treat bowl would be the icing on the cake.

The potential problem was the fact that Sunnydale High School's new principal, Robert Snyder, had turned out to be the complete opposite of Flutie. Where Flutie had been an upbeat man who always tried to keep positive to the point where some people thought he kept himself regularly medicated, Snyder was a perpetually angry troll who saw every student as a failure from the get go. There wasn't a single time he'd seen the man where he wasn't treating one student like they were a future resident of San Quentin State Prison. Even the students that gave him something to brag about to the school board or the mayor weren't exempt from his wrath if they dared to defy him.

More than anything, though, the man seemed to take special pleasure in making life miserable for the Scooby gang in any way that he could.

There were times when he was almost certain that what Snyder did was a violation of some sort of law or statute but the one time he'd actually looked it up he found that Sunnydale was oddly granted some leeway in that area. In any case, with all this learned since the first day of the current school year, there was no doubt in his mind that the principal was going to try something to ruin Halloween. He didn't know precisely what it was but, thanks to strolling by the faculty room earlier, he knew it involved signing up for something. Considering no student would consider signing up for something that'd take away from their valuable Halloween partying time, he suspected Snyder would force compliance from some people.

Basically a case of 'voluntelling' people what they'd be doing Halloween night.

Naturally this went his ingrained belief in free will, self-determination and the right of teenagers to do what they want outside of school within reason. So he was with Willow picking the lock on Snyder's office with the intent of finding out what the little troll had in mind for the unsuspecting students. He was no professional thief but thanks to the number of times Tony had locked him out of the house, he did have some experience picking locks. It wasn't easy but he could tell that he was making progress with the lock in front of him, so he imagined it'd only take a few more minutes to get in.

Click!

Or none at all, he thought as he turned the doorknob and pulled.

Being ever so careful not to let the door produce any loud squeaks he opened it just far enough so that he and Willow could squeeze inside before just as carefully closing it. With that done he went over to the man's desk and began to look everywhere he could think of where the man might have details about his little Halloween 'surprise'. Most of the stuff he found was just your typical school bureaucracy nonsense but it was as he opened the second drawer from the top that he finally hit jackpot.

'Sunnydale High School Halloween Chaperone Duty' was written at the top with lines underneath for the signatures of the students Snyder wound up roping into the job. Considering the fact that there were quite a few copies of the sign up sheet, he felt it safe to say that at least a tenth of the high school population could potentially be roped into the job. If there was some indication about where Snyder would be having people sign up he could tell the gang where not to be tomorrow, but there wasn't. One thing he did notice though was a box next to every line where the signature was supposed to go.

"Xander?" Willow asked, causing him to look up from the papers.

In the corner of the room, one he hadn't seen due to how the door opened, there was a plain looking cardboard box but Willow tilted it he could see a hole in the top. Curious, he walked over to her and she lifted the top of the box up, allowing them to look to see what was inside. What he found though were numerous slips of paper with what he presumed were costume ideas and next to them were numbers. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Snyder intended to have those who signed up for chaperone duty pull their costume ideas at random from the box, then have the number from the slip put in the boxes next to the signatures. However, from what he could see, the costume choices were innocent sounding on the surface but beneath that surface he could see Snyder's low opinion of the student body.

Costumes that could be seen as foolish by some people as well as outfits that held various connotations by the mainstream society that would open people to name calling or ridicule.

In other words torture for the people who wound up being lassoed into the chaperoning.

How they'd be treated would last far beyond Halloween night and probably would take at least a year to recover from.

Not on my watch! He took the box of paper slips and threw them in the trash.

"Xander?" Willow asked, sounding both worried and interested.

"He's setting us up to make us look like idiots, Willow!" he exclaimed as loudly as he dared. "This is just another one of his ways of making everyone miserable and himself happy!"

"And you plan to do what?" she asked, no doubt figuring that Snyder would notice the missing slips of paper.

"Beat him at his own game. Grab some paper and a pen," he said, getting an idea that would really piss off the little troll.

He knew that even if he managed to somehow stop Snyder's plan, the bastard would only come up with something later but if he managed to outsmart the asshole it'd make him cautious for a time. If the man didn't know who'd outsmarted him, he'd be unable to decide what to do next being unable to anticipate his unseen opponent's actions. However in order to make sure this worked he'd have to make sure his handwriting couldn't be identified or else it'd all blow up in his face.

He'd probably need Willow to make sure everything went smoothly; she was the genius after all, but his imagination was conjuring so many exciting images he was willing to take the chance.

This was going to be AWESOME!

The Next Day, Approaching the Student Lounge, Buffy's POV

"So are you guys ready for tonight?" she asked as they walked towards the student lounge. "I managed to convince Mom to buy double the candy so there'd be enough for everyone."

"Sounds good," Xander said, looking forward to tonight.

"Yeah. Fun," Willow said, sounding a little off.

"Something wrong, Willow?" she asked, a little concerned that something might be up.

"No! Just… just hoping nothing Hellmouthy happens to ruin everything," Willow replied like a switch had been flipped inside of her.

That made sense.

It'd happened often enough that, when they were trying to have fun or relaxing at the Bronze, something would pop up and be all Grrr-Aarrgh, forcing them to deal with it. It was one of the things she hated about living on the Hellmouth, hated about being the Slayer, that they couldn't live normal lives like everyone around them. When something demony or involving magic popped up, they had to take action because to do otherwise would've been unacceptable. As the Slayer she'd never be free of that sort of thing, so she'd never get a completely normal life because either she'd have to go after the demons or they'd come after her.

That was why tonight'd be different.

"Don't worry, Willow. I already talked to Giles and he says that tonight's dead for the undead," she said, reassuring her friend that everything would be okay. "They stay inside."

"Halloween quiet? Oh, I figured it'd be a big old vamp scare-apalooza," Xander said with a bit of humor. "Those wacky vampires! That's why I love 'em! They just keep you guessing!"

"SUMMERS!" came a voice that made her cringe with distaste.

Turning around she saw the one person she was quickly coming to despise and wish was really a demon so she'd get to kill him and finally be rid of him.

"Principal Snyder!" she exclaimed, trying to sound like she was 'overjoyed' to see him.

"Halloween must be a big night for you. Tossing eggs, keying cars, bobbing for apples; one pathetic cry for help after another," Snyder said as he approached with a clipboard in hand. "Well, not this year, missy."

With that he shoved the clipboard into her hands before dragging her by the elbow over to a table where a cardboard box sat.

"Gosh, I'd love to sign up, but I recently developed carpal tunnel syndrome, and can tragically no longer hold a flashlight," she said, trying to sound honest and not the least bit like she was trying to slink out of anything.

Judging by the look on the man's face, he wasn't buying it.

"The program starts at four, the children have to be back at six," Snyder snarled before offering her a pen. "Sign on the line and then get a slip of paper from the box."

While she was sorely tempted to tell the prick to go fuck himself, that wouldn't be smart and it'd only get in her in trouble with her mother. Thus it was with the utmost reluctance that she took the pen and signed on the top line on the sheet. From what she could see she was the first person to get corralled into the chaperoning but this was definitely not one of the times where being the first was a good thing. Once that was done she went over to the box and reached in, trying to pick one slip of paper rather than multiple. Taking it out she looked at what was written on it and found herself oddly happy by what she'd gotten.

Belle (Beauty and the Beast).

While she would've preferred something a little less child oriented, she'd seen the animated Disney movie enough times that she knew it matched the noblewoman dress she'd originally wanted to get. With a little luck it'd be enough to make her look like the sort of girl Angel would've loved to date back when he was still human.

Snyder snatched the slip out of her hand rather rudely but, when he read what was on it, a distinctly unhappy look blossomed on his face that made her feel so much better. From the looks of things he'd expected her to pick out something decidedly more to his liking than her own and probably capable of ruining her entire night. Guess this was one of the times when random chance worked in her favor.

Too bad Snyder's anger at the unwanted turn of events caused him to set his sights on Willow and Xander.

Taking the clipboard and the pen, he put it into Xander's hand first but no one could mistake the look on his face as anything other than 'the redhead is signing too'. The founding male member of the Scoobies looked like he was having similar thoughts to what she'd had when handed the clipboard but, like a true friend, he didn't leave her to fend for herself. He scribbled his name on the sign in sheet before passing it to Willow and moving over to the box. Xander reached in just like she did and a moment later pulled out a slip but, after looking at it with a big smile, he turned it around so that she could see it.

Wolverine (X-Men).

The principal finally got the slip and his displeasure only went up further, making her think that something hadn't gone according to plan with the preparations. Considering how menial it probably was, Snyder probably delegated the details to another member of the faculty and now it was coming to bite him in the ass. She wanted to smile, she wanted to LAUGH, but doing so would only get them all into more trouble so she kept it contained in her thoughts.

Willow was next to draw a slip from the box, having finished signing her name and, much like Xander had beforehand, she read it and then showed it to the rest of them.

Iron Man (Avengers).

This was a little odd because, based on the name and what she'd seen on the covers of some of the comic books Xander sometimes brought to their research sessions, the character was a guy, not a gal. She could see that Willow was about to point that out and perhaps ask for a redraw but, considering the mood Snyder was in, that was probably not the best of ideas. The man would probably do something crazy and spiteful, neither of which would be good for the first friend she'd made since coming to Sunnydale. Putting the slip next to her friend's name on the clipboard, she decided that a hasty retreat was the best course of action.

"Well, we gotta go get ready for taking the kids trick or treating!" she said, grabbing her friends by the elbow and pulling them away from the student lounge area. "Have a good day, Principal Snyder!"

It didn't take long for the others to follow her lead and seconds later they were around the corner, out of the pissed of troll's line of sight. She waited a little longer until they were out of earshot as well before she finally let out the laughter she'd been holding in ever since things first started going wrong for Snyder. After all the times the man had come down on her, made her day miserable and generally treated her like some kind of gang member, this was probably as close as she'd get to retribution. The others joined her in her hilarity, drawing a few looks from the other students in the hallway, but she didn't really mind all that much.

They gave her looks anyway so it was all pretty much par for the course.

Even though she'd never played any golf other than mini-golf, she knew what that meant.

"Did you see the look on his face?!" she asked as she got her laughter under control. "I didn't know you could turn that shade of purple!"

"No kidding! I thought he was going to pop a brain cell for a minute there." Xander said, enjoying what'd happened as much as she was. "Man, do I feel sorry for the next person he grabs."

"Maybe it'll be Cordelia or one of her minions," Willow suggested, sounding like she'd almost wanted to go back just to see if it'd happen.

"Hey, with the way our luck is going, it might happen," Xander said, sounding optimistic about their chances. "Still, I'm not gonna push my luck by going back. How about you guys?"

Both Willow and she shook their heads, sharing their friend's position that pushing your luck on top of the Hellmouth was generally not conducive to good health and long life.

"Then let's head to our next class," Xander said, not sounding too enthusiastic. "The sooner we get through it and the next, the sooner we can go get our costumes."

Nodding in agreement she oddly found herself looking forward to the evening.

Even though she'd have to lead a group of kids around trick-or-treating for two hours, she'd still get to wear the costume she wanted and, if all she got in return was pissing Snyder off, then it was a good deal in her mind.

A very good deal indeed.

Business District, Ethan's Costume Shop, After School Let's Out, Willow's POV

"Not bad. I thought with the place being new and all, the owner wouldn't be able to buy this much quality stuff," Xander said as they let their eyes wander the store. "Definitely better than seeing what the local department store has."

"Let's split up and see what we can find that'll work with our costumes," Buffy said, taking charge of the situation immediately. "An hour's just barely enough time for me to get ready."

With a nod she decided to go with Xander since his costume and her costume were from the same universe and so anything they could use for their outfits would probably be in the same area. Walking along, she was surprised to see Cordelia and Harmony there but then she remembered what she'd said during lunch hour and a smile came upon her face.

Looks like my dream came true, she thought with malicious glee.

The only thing she was disappointed about was the fact that none of the costume ideas Xander had put in the box with would humiliate Cordelia all that much. Two thirds of it had been typical guy stuff, meaning cool badass stuff for guys and for the female costumes stuff that was either skintight or showed off considerable skin. Naturally she eventually stepped in, since if she didn't she knew that she'd wind up wearing one of his suggestions and she didn't have nearly enough self-confidence for that. So with her 'Resolve' face clearly in place she forced him to put in some normal costumes as well as one she knew Buffy wanted so she could impress Angel. Her friend had looked annoyed at her Belle suggestion but he still put it into the box, probably figuring that the odds of Buffy getting it were small.

In the case of Cordelia and Harmony, though, they were skanky enough that they wouldn't care how revealing or skintastic their outfits were. They'd probably feel right at home wearing them and enjoy the looks they got from all the guys, even if they were all pervy looks. After all, that's what all the rich girls were: arm candy for rich boyfriends. Probably baby makers, too, with the only price tag attached to their services being gifts, luxury accommodations and money. It wasn't like any of them had anything other than their bodies to work with. She'd heard enough of their answers in class to know that they barely had enough brain cells in between their ears to keep themselves from being held back a year.

Then again maybe the deep pockets of their parents had something to do with that.

Whatever! Gotta focus on my costume, she thought as she arrived at the superhero costume section. I don't want to give Snyder any more reasons to give me trouble.

Knowing what the armored Avenger looked like, she let her eyes go from costume to costume to find something that would suit her needs. After a minute she had her suspicions confirmed in that whoever ran the shop hadn't purchased any fake red and gold armor that she could wear. That put a bit of crimp in her plans since it'd be kind of hard to pull off Iron Man without it but she wasn't willing to give up just yet. If she couldn't go as Iron Man, she'd try to dress up as the hero's civilian identity of Tony Stark since all that'd require would be a business suit, a fancy looking cell phone, a fake Rolex and maybe a briefcase. Looking around she tried to find a ladies business suit that would be in keeping with what Xander had told her about Tony Stark's personality but at the same time not be too showy. She might like the fact that the two of them managed to show up Snyder by changing the slips of paper in the box but she still didn't want to draw too much attention to herself.

Why did I let him drag me to the student lounge with Buffy? she asked for the tenth time since they'd hooked up with Buffy to go there. Sure, it made sense to go to make sure Snyder didn't suspect us of doing anything but it still takes two hours out of our evening. Guess there's no sense crying over spilt milk now.

"Can I help you two with anything?" asked a British voice from behind them without any warning.

"EEP!" she squeaked as her heart skipped a beat in shock.

"Yikes! Don't do that!" Xander exclaimed, spinning around to face the speaker.

"Sorry, lad. Old habits die hard, I'm afraid," the dark haired British man said with a smile. "I was something of a prankster in my youth and you don't do very well if you can't sneak up on people. Ethan Rayne, owner and proprietor, at your service."

That made sense but it didn't make her heart feel much better.

"Now, is there something in particular you two are looking for?" Mister Rayne asked, looking from her to Xander and back again.

"Well, we've 'volunteered' to chaperone some kids around for Halloween tonight and we need costumes. Specifically Wolverine and Iron Man from the comic books," Xander replied, looking like he thought it'd save them some time. "Don't suppose you have them in stock? If not the whole costumes than at least the bits and pieces we can put together with some stuff at home?"

"I'm familiar with the characters but I don't believe I have the entire costumes in shop," Mister Rayne said with moderate focus as he tried to recollect his entire inventory. "However I think I might have some odds and ends in back that might just do the trick. Wait right here and I'll be back in two shakes."

With that the man left them standing next to the superhero costume section with nothing to do but browse through the outfits neither of them wanted until he got back. Looking to occupy her mind, she could see costumes from the DC comics universe like Wonder Woman and Superman as well as a few from Marvel Comics but with the latter nothing either she or Xander could use. She'd casually leafed through a few of Xander's comics over the years but never really got into them as much as he had simply because they were too unrealistic from a scientific standpoint. Many of the abilities, technologies or phenomenon depicted in the comics had no basis in the laws of science and the few that did would take centuries for them to reach in real life. Xander often accused her of being contradictory, saying why did she give comic books such a hard time when she absolutely loved romance and fantasy novels. Up until the two of them got introduced to the truth about Sunnydale she'd just said that the former was just so dreamy and the latter had more thought put into it.

After all, how could you compare the world of Dungeons & Dragons and Lord of the Rings to stories that got retconned or warped every couple of years to boost sales?

Then, when the truth about Sunnydale became known, she'd pointed out that at least magic and monsters had basis in fact unlike superheroes, who'd never become real in his lifetime.

It was about ten minutes later, the limit of Xander's patience learned from past experience, that Mister Rayne returned carrying quite few things in his arms.

"Well, it was a bit of a bother getting it all but I believe you will pleased with what I have to offer," Mister Rayne said with a smile as he put his burdens down on a nearby table. "First for the young lady I managed to acquire a ladies business suit like the one over there. Successful lady C.E.O. is popular this year. Black pants and a blazer with a single button in the front as well as some pleated shoes of the same color, with all the items appearing to be of an expensive nature. Also this plastic toy communicator that you could feasibly pass off as an advanced cell phone and then there is THIS."

Looking down along with the store owner she saw a rather large looking metal suitcase, almost too big for her to even consider trying to lug around leading the kids, colored red and gold just like the Iron Man armor.

"Now, while I don't have Iron Man armor, I recall a cartoon show back in '94 where he had a suitcase suit of armor that he carried with him. Naturally there's nothing actually in this suitcase, so if any of the children you're leading around ask you'll have to find some excuse to explain why you can't open it," Mister Rayne said, holding up the suitcase so she could look at it clearly. "Still, this is the best I can do without having a fake high tech armored suit to give you. Will it suffice?"

Going over to the items on the table meant for her, she had to admit that the business suit looked nice enough and didn't look like it'd need any alterations to fit her. Rather remarkable that he had one in her size but it'd definitely make things easier on her. However, after examining it all, she found one little crimp in the outfit that needed to be addressed.

"There's no shirt to go under the blazer," she said, looking to Mister Rayne for an explanation.

"Actually for that particular business suit no shirt is required," Mister Rayne said impartially as he looked back at her. "The opening left between the shoulders and the button is supposed to be a sort of plunging neckline as I understand it. Naturally to wear it as intended, young miss, you'd have to forgo wearing either a shirt or a brassiere."

Red!

She just knew her face was red at the moment!

"T-there's no WAY… it'd e-expose…" she sputtered out, trying to deny the very idea of wearing the suit like that.

"Chill, Willow," Xander said, putting a calming hand on her shoulder. "He said you'd only have to do it if you planned on wearing it as INTENDED. If you don't want to then we'll just grab a blouse or something from your closet. No one will know but you, me and him that it's supposed to be worn differently."

"Yeah. You're right," she said, finally managing to clam down at the news that she could do something to cover up better.

"I promise, my dear, I won't tell a soul," Mister Rayne said with strong resolve. "A pity though. Personally I think you could've pulled off the intended look brilliantly."

She knew she went a bit red again at the compliment but she appreciated it all the same since it was rare that anyone said such things about her.

"Now as for you, young man, I was able to find a few things that should work out for you," Mister Rayne said as he picked up a box that looked like it held an expensive gun or numerous cigars. "I happen to have a friend in the movie prop business and not too long ego he was asked to make a rough idea of what they could use for an X-Men movie. Apparently some Ryan Winner or something was slated to be in charge so my friend went all out to make something suitable choosing Wolverine's claws since he specialized in making weapons."

With a bit of theatrical presentation Mister Rayne opened the box to reveal six impressive looking blades, a handle connecting each three she saw. It made sense since that was how it was in the comics, three blades popping from each hand, and while it'd look a little off it couldn't be helped since it wasn't like they could actually implant them in between Xander's fingers. Looking a little closer, though, she noticed something she hadn't expected even from a quality movie prop.

"They're not made of plastic!" she exclaimed in surprise at her discovery.

"Right you are, young lady. Each of the blades is made out of quarter inch thick fifty-one sixty spring steel, put through a belt grinder to refine the edges and then taken to an induction forge to make the bevels on the blades. Each blade is heat treated, cooled in oil and fine-tuned until they became what you see before you. The handles are made from aluminum, though, and were cut as short as possible so that they wouldn't stand out too much," Mister Rayne said, sounding like he enjoyed how the prop was made.

"Cool!" Xander enthused, clearly in love with the props.

"Are they sharp?" she asked, not wanting to risk Xander hurting himself or one of the children he'd be leading about town.

"No, no, of course not! Before he sold them to me he personally blunted the edges of the blades without ruining the overall appearance," Mister Rayne replied hastily, clearly thinking that selling a real weapon unthinkable. "True, if you slashed hard enough or thrust them with enough force they could do some damage but otherwise they're perfectly harmless."

This comforted her somewhat since it meant that, unless Xander actually intended to hurt someone, the blades would be completely safe to use with his costume. Looking at her best friend, she could see that he was a little disappointed that the blades were blunt but that was probably because he wanted to see Buffy use them against some vampires. It wouldn't be the same as using it himself, she guessed, but it wouldn't be safe for someone like Xander to get that close to a vampire or a demon.

"Now, in addition to the claws I also picked up a few other things for your costume idea," Mister Rayne said as he set down the claw case before picking up something else. "Three fake Cohiba cigars, a small tube of styling gel for your hair, a simple golden longhorn belt buckle and lastly a brown biker leather jacket. Put it all together with a white undershirt, some jeans and maybe some boots and I think it'll do quite nicely for you."

Indeed it would.

While not being overly familiar with the contents of Xander's closet, she knew he had blue jeans, a belt and a white undershirt since she'd seen him wear each before. Looking at all the things Mister Rayne had brought out to them, she had only one question left that needed an answer.

"How much?" she asked, hoping that it wouldn't be too expensive.

Sure, her parents had gotten her a credit card for emergencies but she'd prefer it if they could just pay cash so that she didn't have to explain the purchases later. Her mother and father were a little unusual in that they didn't approve in overspending for certain mainstream holidays and Halloween was one yearly event they went a bit cheap on.

Contrary to what Xander might think, she hadn't worn a ghost costume the last five times in a row JUST because she was hiding from their fellow classmates.

"Well, normally all these items put together would run you about seventy-three dollars but, seeing as how I am new to town and could use the business, I'll drop it down to thirty-five dollars," Mister Rayne replied, sounding like he was hoping they'd be okay with it. "Just be sure to tell all your friends where you got them and that should more than make up the difference."

"Done!" she and Xander declared at the same time since they'd have to be idiots to pass up a sweet deal. "Jinx!" they both said though with no clear winner.

"Then if you'll follow me to the cash register I will bag your purchases immediately," Mister Rayne said with a satisfied smile before gathering the various items into his arms.

She couldn't help but smile at the good luck the Scoobies were having, first with getting back at Snyder then getting good costume picks and now getting said costumes at a good price.

Maybe living on the Hellmouth wasn't a completely awful thing after all.

The Harris Home, Twenty Minutes Later, Xander's POV

Not the best shape to pull off Wolverine but then the jacket'll help with that, he thought as he stood before his bedroom mirror in jeans and a white undershirt.

Still, he take some pride in how much more chiseled his body had become since fighting alongside Buffy. Where before he was pretty much as gangly as your average teenager, now after fighting (or in some cases running away from things that went bump in the night), a lot of the fat had been burned away. He'd still have to work out, knock back some protein to help in the muscle building and improve his stamina for a while, a long while, before he'd come even close to Logan's physique. A goal worth striving for; the right body and the right classes, he'd be able to contribute more to the Scooby gang. Oddly enough, getting a toned body was the easy part of becoming a fighter because all it required was lifting weights, running, crunches as well as an assortment of other exercises. The problem popped up when it came to learning how to fight at a level where he'd be able to defend himself against a fledgling at the very least.

Sadly there weren't any karate classes or boxing gyms around Sunnydale where he could sign up so, aside from asking Giles for a few pointers he was going to have to try to teach himself.

Not loving the odds of him getting it right.

Slipping on the brown leather biker jacket, he found that it was a little big on him but not overly so, saving him from any potential hurtful comments from jocks like Larry. It'd been equally easy to for him to get the belt buckle into place and he had to admit that it added a certain degree of toughness to the whole look. He'd managed to find some of Tony's old boots that went up to just under the knee and didn't look like something that Logan wouldn't touch with a teen foot pole. They were pretty plain looking, dark brown with thick black bottoms, but since Wolverine wasn't a fashion freak and preferred function over appearance, they'd do in a pinch.

Picking up the small tube of hair gel, he squeezed a little bit out and began to push back his hair into something loosely approximating the style depicted in the comic books. It wouldn't be perfect due to the fact that his hair wasn't long enough but if any kid asked he'd simply say he was freshly regenerated from a flame thrower assault and his hair needed time to grow back fully. Three squirts later and he decided that it'd have to be good enough since anymore and he'd outdo Deadboy in the gel department. Once that was done he slid the three fake Cohiba cigars into the jacket before picking up the metal claws, getting a good grip on both before looking once more into the mirror. It took a moment before he found just the right way to hold them in order to make it look as though they were coming straight out between his fingers but result was favorable. It'd look better if he had some kind of gloves but he didn't have any of his own and neither did Tony, so he'd have to be satisfied with the way things were.

Walking out of his room, he made tracks to the front door, hoping to get out before Tony got back from whatever pity job he was currently working at. He'd stopped keeping track after the fifth one fell through and, to be perfectly honest, he didn't expect the current one to last for very much longer. It was just the way things went: Tony got the job out of pity, did a half-assed job for a couple months and then screw things up before getting fired. If Sunnydale had been a normal town he was certain that Tony would've been unemployed for almost ten years now. One of the unintentional 'benefits' of the Hellmouth, he supposed, was that local businesses always needed fresh employees and employers couldn't be too picky about who they hired. Of course once any employer got a better idea of whom they were dealing with in Tony Harris, they quickly came to believe that ANYONE would be better than him.

Out the door and on the sidewalk his eyes told him that he'd managed to get out just in the nick of time because, turning onto the street, looking a little wobbly, was Tony's car. Clearly the asshole had already started his routine of intoxication and was barely sober enough to operate a car without bringing every cop in Sunnydale down on his head to saddle him with a D.U.I. Getting behind the neighbor's fence, he crept away as quickly as he dared without drawing attention to himself, moving for a good ten minutes before standing up straight. Looking back in the general direction of his house, he hoped that the piece of shit that contributed half his DNA was unconscious when he got home later because God save him if Tony was still conscious. He'd learned long ago that he could do no right with that man so, even if he was dressed up as a badass, Tony wouldn't hesitate to verbally tear him apart. He'd either insult him for even trying to look like a badass or ridicule him for choosing to dress up as a comic book character, pointing out how he was too old for such things.

He honestly wondered if it was even possible for the man to be nice OR happy.

Throwing the bad feelings and memories out of his head, he started walking towards Buffy's place since he and the others had agreed that they'd all meet up there. From there they'd go to the school where Snyder would pair them up with a group of kids to chaperone around for two hours. It'd be interesting to see how Buffy and Willow looked in their costumes but he was even more interested to find out which 'volunteer' had gotten paired with which costume idea. When he'd been in Snyder's office he'd done his best to make sure that there'd be an even mix of male and female costumes so that he didn't wind up having to dress up like a girl. However the female costumes that he had put in were definitely the sort that he was interested in, finding out if they measured up to their fictional counterparts. Not everyone would look great in them, he was a perfect example of that, but hopefully enough pretty ladies had gotten roped into chaperone duty to give him some wonderful happy places to go to every time he was bored or upset.

A little under ten minutes later that he arrived at the Summers home and once he was in the front door he put one of the fake Cohibas into his mouth before knocking on the door. He heard the pitter-patter of feet almost immediately and, when the door opened, he was unsurprised to see young Dawn Summers standing there with a joyful smile on her face.

"Xander!" she exclaimed before latching onto him with the strongest hug she could manage.

"Hey, Dawn patrol!" he said, ruffling her hair while he smiled down at her.

"Cool costume! Wolverine right?" she asked before beginning to pull him inside the house.

Pushing the door closed behind him, he let her lead him where she wanted him to go and that turned out to be the living room couch, where she sat him down before plopping herself onto his lap.

"Yep. Herr Snyder roped me, your sister and Willow into chaperoning some kids around trick or treating for two hours. Then we'll be coming back here to watch some scary movies and eat tons of junk food!" he replied with a smile even as she leaned into his shoulder. "Think you can convince your mom to let you watch a couple?"

"You're forgetting who convinced her to finally stop buying me little girl clothes," Dawn said with a confident smile on her face. "I'll be there."

He had to admit that she had a point.

While he believed that all kids had a knack when it came to wrapping their parents around their little fingers, Dawn had talent above the average girl. There'd been more than a few times that he'd fallen victim to her convincing arguments but, thankfully, she made the mistake once too often of thinking she was older than she was. The second she tried to manipulate him like he'd seen Cordy manipulate one of the high school jocks, his internal moral systems kicked in, causing him to slam on the brakes. He knew she had a crush on him but that's all it was: a crush. She'd grow out of it as she got older and then she'd find some guy her own age to fall in love with, leaving him behind as nothing more than a good friend. He was willing to humor her because it was amusing and because it generally got stopped before it could get too far either by her family or by others.

Hearing the sound of someone coming down the stairs, he turned and beheld a sight that both struck him as beautiful as well as disgusting to a degree. Walking down towards him was Buffy completely decked out in her Belle costume, including a wig that gave her the right hair color since the animated film character was a brunette, not a blonde. She was honestly beautiful but the fact that she'd dressed up like that with the intention of making that vampire happy… he would never understood what she saw in that walking corpse. She kept going on and on about much she wanted a normal life with a husband, kids and a dog but nothing was normal about having a vampire with a soul for a boyfriend or potential husband.

"Looking pretty, Buff," he said, unable to make himself sound too pleased without sounding insincere.

"You too, Xan! A real tough guy!" Buffy said, sounding genuinely impressed but likely more focused on how impressed Deadboy would be when he saw her.

"Where's Willow?" he asked, wondering if his best bud had gotten there before him or if she was still on her way.

"She's upstairs adding a little something to make everything perfect," Buffy replied with a look on her face that spoke of a personal contribution.

"What'd you do?" he asked, almost afraid for his friend but not in a 'she might be in danger' way.

"Well, when she came over she was already pretty sexy looking but then she showed me a picture of Tony Stark," she replied, talking about it with mock casualness. "While it wouldn't look right to try and put a goatee on her or a mustache, we were able to do something about the hair. Mom had a phase, wanted to experiment with different hair colors, and there're a few bottles left over."

Before he could put the pieces together he heard another set of footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Buffy, I don't know if I should-" Willow said with some distraction as she came into view.

He couldn't stop his eyebrows from rising as he took in the ladies business suit now wrapped around his best bud's body and saw that instead of red hair she now had hair as black as a raven's feather. It was amazing how much of a change a new hair color could have on someone's appearance and new clothes only made the change greater. The only thing that didn't shock him was the fact that Willow had found a shirt to wear underneath the blazer and had chosen not to dress as Mister Rayne had proposed. Willow might have gotten more confident and a little bolder since Buffy entered their lives but it'd be a long time before she'd be able to bare that much of her chest off the beach.

When she saw that he was there she immediately looked uncomfortable and awkward, so he decided to defuse things as best he could: my making everyone laugh at him.

"So what do you think, Wills?" he asked with his usual lopsided smile before making his voice rougher and deeper. "Do I look like the best there is at what I do?"

He was trying to sound like the voice actor from the X-Men animated series but, judging from the way his best bud smiled, he hadn't quite succeeded.

"What you laughin' at, bub?" he asked, keeping his impersonation going.

This got things to go from giggles to outright laughter and caused the discomfort to mostly fade from Willow's face as well as brightening the mood of the others present.

Mission accomplished!

Higher Plane of Existence

"This is a Des-Con Three alert. Repeat. This is a Destiny Condition Three alert," came the celestial voice through the air as the entire realm shook like a mortal earthquake.

"What is happening?" The Power of Destiny Commander asked from his position above his subordinates.

"We just had a moderate vibration in the destiny threads," his number one subordinate replied from amidst the working spirits. "As you no doubt felt, it is not from one of the minor threads."

"Whose threads did this disruption come from?" the PDC asked, sounding concerned by what he'd been told.

"Alexander Harris, Willow Rosenberg, Cordelia Chase and Harmony Kendall's threads are the ones most affected," the XO replied after a moment's consultation of the facts. "However the disruptions are having a resonating effect on all those connected to them. Already several key moments we have ordained for them have begun to fade and there are signs that their fated deaths are in danger of being rewritten by chance rather than by us."

This was not good.

The lives of mortals were more interconnected than they realized and to change one person's fate was to cause a ripple effect that would take centuries to fully disappear on its own. It would lead to chaos at a time when order was needed more than anything else. The PDC knew how some mortals, particularly those chosen to be champions and especially those chosen to be Slayers, viewed beings like him. They thought him and his brethren cruel and callous entities that cared not for the suffering their machinations caused in the name of the great Balance. They thought that all that mattered to them was the end result and not the number of mortal lives that were sacrificed to bring about that end.

They could not be further from the truth.

To he and his fellow Powers, nothing was more important than the lives of the mortals that had been placed under their protection by the Creator. They wept each time a mortal perished at the hands of an agent of the infernal darkness and doubled their efforts each time to ensure that it would not happen again. They did not place importance on their plans out of some overinflated pride or malicious selfishness, but rather because they saved the most amount of lives in the long run. It took painstaking work to take into account billions of lives, map their potential futures and then construct a plan that minimized the costs while maximizing the gains. The PDC was, in fact, one of the Powers that argued most passionately in favor of doing all they could to keep the number of mortals that had to die to a minimum. He had his opponents, of course, those that saw mortals as mayflies, but they were not the dominant faction amongst them so their influence did not reach far.

The mortals.

Their lifespan measured a century at the absolute most and so that was all that mattered to them, even if some were willing to give their all for future generations. It was why it was so hard for them to accept their place in the plans of the Powers: it was nearly impossible for them to comprehend the big picture. To them the future was an abstract thing that they could try to plan for but never truly see in the same way the Powers could. As a result, when they tried to communicate to the mortals the necessity of their plans, some dutifully accepted their words but most rejected the words and eventually rejected the Powers as well. From a mortal point of view this was understandable and from the point of view of the Powers it was a necessary evil if the Balance was to be maintained.

Sometimes one must play the villain in order to for the right thing to be done.

"Determine the cause of the vibrations," the PDC ordered as another tremor shook the realm. "Perhaps the situation can still be salvaged."

It took both a day and a second to get the necessary information.

"Lord Janus is fueling a mortal's spell to change those wearing enchanted costumes into whatever or whoever they were pretending to be. It is what Harris, Rosenberg, Chase and Kendall have turned into that is causing their threads to vibrate," the XO explained, sounding confused by the information. "What is odd about this is that this spell has been cast many times in the past and has never caused vibrations such as this. In all previous cases, those changed physically returned to normal immediately upon the spell's termination and any lingering mental traces faded over the course of several days."

The PDC pondered this for a moment but the answer came to him swifter than expected.

"Alexander Harris. He must be responsible for this," the PDC declared with growing certainty. "The same thing that allowed him to retain a trace of the primal possession and break our prophecy for Slayer Summers must somehow be influencing the spell being powered by Janus. If each of the affected were for some reason to retain some significant aspect of their costumes, it would drastically alter their threads as well as all those connected to them. Prepare for immediate thread expulsion!"

"Sir! Are you certain?!" the XO asked in shock at the order she had been given. "Threads that are expelled from the tapestry face almost certain nullification of their existence. The changes to connected threads will be substantial!"

"But far less than what will occur if we do nothing," the PDC replied, pained but still resolute. "Even if we force the termination of the spell now, the changes are already present. If we attempt to undo the changes later, the results of mixing other magic with chaos magic could very well make matters worse. If the tree is to be preserved, some branches must be sacrificed. Now do it!"

"Aye sir!" the XO said with reluctant compliance. "Prepare for the expulsion of the four threads!"

As the spirits that served him went about the task, the PDC could only close his metaphorical eyes in remorse for what was about to happen. It had affirmed everything the PDC believed with regards to mortals when Harris and Rosenberg chose of their own free will to aid Slayer Summers with her Calling. They did not have to and some might argue it would have been safer for them to remain ignorant of the truth about their hometown. Nevertheless they braved the darkness and the evils it spawned, growing into people who might well become worthy of champion status themselves one day. For Cordelia Chase and Harmony Kendall, they too possessed potential, if not quite as impressive, but sadly they would now be unable to reach it.

Even though there existed a chance that their threads might somehow escape nullification, not even the PDC knew the conditions that needed to be met to make it so.

So, just as chance had caused the current situation, so too was chance the only thing standing in the way of the quartet's nullification.

"Preparations complete, sir," the XO said with emotions that mirrored his own.

"Initiate," the PDC ordered in a manner akin to a C.O. ordering a chopper to lift off even while some of his men struggled desperately to reach it even though it was futile.

With a single quake that shook the realm, four threads of destiny were expelled from the tapestry and all waited with anticipation to see if this would end the crisis. Time both long and almost nonexistent went by but then, bit by bit, the information came in confirming that the PDC had made the correct decision from an objective point of view. While there would still be some disruption of the plans of the Powers, it would require only minimal effort on their part to ensure things occurred as was necessary for the Balance to be maintained. The subordinates rejoiced at a job well done and a crisis averted but neither the XO nor the PDC joined them. For those two it felt more like they had lost for, in failing to foresee the actions of the mortal man Janus had aided, they had most likely consigned four souls to nullification.

Four souls that the Creator had charged them with protecting.

'Never again' was the thought that echoed through both of their minds.

It was a worthy promise indeed.

In the Middle of Nowhere, Parts Unknown, Xander's POV

"AAAAHHHHH!" he screamed as he fell from high above a canopy of trees with no way to stop his descent and little in the way of comprehension concerning how he'd gotten into his current predicament.

The last thing he could remember clearly was taking a group of elementary kids around the residential area of Sunnydale and having about twenty-five minutes to go before he'd have to steer them back towards the high school. The preteens had been suitably impressed by his costume, with one annoying exception that wouldn't shut up, and, much like Buffy had told him and Willow, the streets were demon free. No vamps, nothing with horns or sharp teeth, or anything else that he'd expected to be itching for a chance to bite into some unsuspecting kids. It was a little odd but he certainly wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth because he didn't like the odds of the Scoobies being able to keep every preteen safe amidst some slayage.

It'd been then that a wind had blown in out of nowhere and it'd been odd enough to catch his attention but, before he'd had the chance to think on it much, his mind got sent into a tailspin. A maelstrom of pain and near overwhelming sensory information knocked him for a loop, leaving him off balance when the other shoe dropped.

He was no longer in control of his own body.

He still had access to his five senses, BOY did he have access to them, but no matter what he tried to do he couldn't make anything from his eyelids to his arms to his mouth do what he wanted. Despite some rather obvious signs to the contrary, it wasn't until Willow had walked up to his body a few minutes later that he figured out at least part of what'd been going on. Somehow a mind consistent with whomever or whatever they'd dressed up as had been given control over their bodies, with the original owners locked in as spectators. That'd gotten him a little worried since not only was his body nowhere near as chiseled as Wolverine's was depicted as being in the comics, but he didn't possess the hero's nigh unstoppable healing factor. He'd been worried that Logan would overestimate the body he inhabited, get into a fight he couldn't get out of and wind up impaled for his recklessness.

Not a real problem for the real Wolverine but for one Xander Harris possessing nothing more than a normal human body, it'd almost certainly be fatal.

The situation was proven to be a great deal more serious than he'd originally thought when, after facing a horde of jocks dressed as pirates, one of them managed to score a lucky slash on his arm. He'd banged against the mental walls that kept him locked away, yelled to get the cut stitched and bandaged, but then the wound healed completely in a matter of seconds. That was all he'd needed to see in order to accept that the changes made to him extended beyond a fake mind gaining control of his body. It was after the pirates hurt Buffy, her fake personality not a coward but helpless in a fight, that he'd gotten his second bit of proof that he'd been changed when three twelve inch metal claws popped out of each clenched fist.

The fight didn't last more than half a minute after that.

If he'd been in control of his body he'd have thrown up but he wasn't and, while he'd been able to sense that the Logan mind took no pleasure in what he'd done, he did believe it'd been necessary.

Before anything more could happen the world twisted and then shattered, playing havoc with his perceptions and whatever had started the craziness of the night. It proved too much and he'd lost consciousness, hoping that when he woke up he'd either be back to his old self or everything'd turn out to be a dream.

As of about twenty seconds ago it turned out that the former hope was the right one but he was seriously wishing it'd been the other one because at least then he wouldn't be falling from almost certainly lethal heights. Instinctively bracing himself, he slammed into the trees mere seconds later, with branch after branch knocking the wind out of him as well turning him into a living pinball. He wasn't sure how many times he bounced off branches but eventually he landed on the ground with a thud that left him gasping for air. For a time he simply laid there, waiting for his breathing to return to normal, but when he recovered quicker than he'd ever anticipated he suspected something he needed to prove before going any further.

Getting to his feet, he brought his right hand up, made a fist and let instinct guide him in performing the act he desired.

SNIKT!

A triad of pain blossomed between the fingers of his right hand as three razor sharp blades a foot long shot out from his flesh. With familiarity that he knew wasn't his own a past statement became painfully true: it really did hurt every single time. Doing the same thing with his other hand, he looked at the metal implements and, taking into account that there wasn't a single broken bone in his body, there was only one conclusion.

He still had the physical characteristics of Wolverine aka Logan.

Taking a sniff of the air he was almost overwhelmed by the variety of scents he could detect, making him wonder how his comic book hero could make any sense of it. Practice and discipline, he presumed, but until he had anything that came close he'd make it his business to breath only through his mouth. Depending on what he found out in the next few minutes, he'd probably wind up finding time to gain at least some proficiency in making sense of what his nose told him. If it came even close to how it was depicted in the comic books, it'd be an excellent early warning system for either food or potential threats.

Looking around, he tried to figure out where he was, how he'd come to be here and where he should go now that he was physically capable of moving. He knew magic was involved because there was no other possible way for him to suddenly have the body, the Adamantium bones or the claws of a fictional character. He also felt it was a safe bet that magic was responsible for making him appear high above the tree canopy, but that didn't necessarily mean that the two were connected. It was entirely possible that two separate people cast two separate spells on him but there was a good chance that one precipitated the second but damned if he could figure out any more.

Did someone cast a spell to get rid of him, resulting in his arrival here? If so then why did they want to get rid of him? Was it because they knew he'd retain Wolverine's physical characteristics?

Even if that was the case, though, he couldn't see how becoming a pseudo-Wolverine would change things for anyone other than the forces of evil. Had some demon or warlock been behind his unexpected relocation? If so he was going to have words with the bastard when he got back and, if he still had Wolverine's claws, then he would give that person a trip to claw city that they'd never forget. If there existed a good reason for relocating him, like an end of the world or end of Sunnydale situation, then maybe he'd be a little more understanding. He certainly wasn't going to bitch about being sent on an unscheduled trip if the alternative was the Hellmouth opening or some obscure ritual being set into motion.

Still, it would've been nice to have been given the lowdown before being shoved on his flight.

Enough griping! He shook his head. Time to see what I've got to work with and what my best chance for figuring out where the hell I am is.

Looking himself over, he was glad to see that his clothes had survived the fall more or less intact with only a few small rips and tears to be had. Hand them over to any decent tailor and they'd be sewn up or patched within a day. Not that he was that concerned with how he looked at the moment that he'd make visiting a tailor a priority but it was nice that he wouldn't look like a bum if he hit civilization. Reaching into his pocket, he found that all but one of the Cohiba cigars had been broken in half by the fall, making him frown in disappointment.

Strange, considering he'd never before smoked a cigarette before, much less a cigar.

A leftover from Logan? Maybe.

A further search of his pockets didn't reveal anything too worthy of note and certainly nothing that'd help him survive in the wilderness. He hadn't exactly been expecting an impromptu camping trip when he'd left his house so that left him lacking more than a few things that are essential to surviving in the wild. Protecting himself from any wild animals or hunting them for foot wouldn't be a problem thanks to his claws but he'd prefer to get to a town or city rather than sleeping in the woods. Not that he had any idea where he was in relation to the nearest town or city, so he decided that that would be the first on his list of things to do. Find a high point in the area and get the lay of the land so that he could figure out which way to start walking rather than let random chance decide.

Closing his eyes, he tried to get a feel for which direction was uphill and which was downhill but, once that was determined, he started going up. He wasn't sure how long it'd take to get to someplace high but he wasn't hungry and, with Wolverine's powers, it'd be awhile before hunger started to become a problem.

This was SO not how I wanted my Halloween to go, he thought, focusing on his objective rather than something that couldn't be changed.

Hours Later

About flamin' time! he thought grumpily as he reached a ledge in the side of a mountain he'd reached that'd allow him to see the entire area with ease. Thought I'd have to camp out for the night before getting here.

He'd been moving at a fairly good pace but, despite his best efforts, he wasn't getting the altitude he wanted quickly enough and so he'd broken into a run in order to increase his progress. Still it'd been a near thing to reach the ledge he'd spotted through the branches of the surrounding trees before the sun went down and he wasn't about to waste the opportunity before him. Now that he was there, though, it was time for him to get a look at the landscape and hopefully spot a town, village or city within a reasonable walking distance of his current position.

Standing up, he cast his gaze across the entire area looking for any buildings or manmade structures that gave him a hint at civilization. With the sun setting the shadows were long and they obscured certain areas but the senses he'd inherited from his costume allowed him to see into them well enough. From what he could see the area was almost nothing but wilderness except for what looked to be buildings a fair ways to the north. They were oddly shaped but he couldn't quite make them out so there was no way of knowing really where in the world he was except that it had trees and mountains.

Needle? Meet haystack.

Still, it was better than what he had when he first landed wherever he was, so with a destination in mind that would hopefully give him the means to get to a major city and its associated airport he prepared to climb back down to solid ground.

Wait a minute, he thought as an idea came to him that'd speed things up a bit. What if I… it works in the comics as well as some of the cartoons, so… what the hell. If it doesn't work I'll still survive the fall, even if it'll hurt like a sonuvabitch.

Popping the claws in both arms, he turned to face the back of the ledge and then, with a deep breath to calm his nerves, he hopped backwards while thrusting both fists forward seconds later. The idea was that he could use gravity to pull him down to the bottom while using the metal claws to slow his descent to a reasonable level by partially putting them into the rock. He'd seen Wolverine do something similar in the comics and in the cartoons, so he figured it'd be worth trying out himself since it'd save him time.

You'd think he'd have learned after having the truth about Sunnydale revealed to him that television and comic books were BIG FAT LIARS!

Sure, it seemed to work for a bit but, even when he did his best to keep the traction between his feet and the rock to a minimum, he wound up slowing to a stop after only a dozen feet or so. Either he'd made a mistake with the depth he'd plunged his blades or his two favorite methods of passing the time had lied to him. With a sigh he began his downward climb, using his claws instead of his fingers for the job, figuring he might as well get some practice in with the deadly implements. There were a few times when his feet slipped or the foothold he'd chosen gave way under his increased weight but, thanks to his claws, he didn't fall very far.

This is gonna take some getting used to, he thought once he finally reached the ground. Assuming, of course, Giles can't figure out a way to get me back to normal that is.

Don't get him wrong: he would love to keep the powers since they'd allow him to help out the gang a lot better than his old self could. However he'd heard Giles lecture enough about the costs of magic to know that to get and keep an upgrade like this, there had to be a pretty hefty bill waiting in the wings. Would it be his soul? Would the Wolverine powers slowly erode his soul away until he just up and died someday? Or would his mind snap, causing him to go all berserker rage on his friends? There was just no way for him to know but that was the direction he saw the 'cost' going if he kept his new upgrades for too long.

Nothing was worth losing his friends over.

Retracting his shiny claws back into his forearms, he winced a bit at the pain but it soon went away as the warm sensation that he'd come to associate with the healing factor knitted his flesh back together. It was a little creepy but he was getting used to it every time he utilized the claws or got a scrape going through some bushes. It was very different than how it'd been for him before when he was on the outside looking in via comics and cartoons. In both it looked like popping the claws was no more difficult for the canucklehead than twiddling your thumbs but in fact it was more akin to putting out lit matches by squishing them between his fingers. Both popping them out and then popping them back in felt that way and it kinda made him imagine someone watching a recording of it and messing around with both the rewind button as well as the fast forward button.

He didn't even want to THINK about how it'd probably feel if he got a more serious injury because a healing factor didn't include a pain elimination factor. He'd feel every injury he received and he'd feel his body knit itself back together with excruciating thoroughness and speed. Wolverine had suffered just about every major battle-related injury known to mankind and managed to come back from each of them but not without suffering some serious pain. He had no desire to find out what that was like on his way back home so, no matter what happened until he set foot back in Sunnydale, he'd steer clear of trouble. If for some reason that wasn't possible he'd keep his claws sheathed and try to end the fight quickly so that no one who witnessed it would have time to suspect something was unusual about him.

If he couldn't end the fight quickly then someone, either the ones he was fighting or the ones he was saving, would suspect the truth, with the more hostile ones upping the level of violence accordingly.

Down that path much pain waited.

Knowing me, though, all it'll take is some damsel in distress to get me to dive head first or some bastard happily tap dancing across every single one of my lines, he thought with an annoyed grimace. Here's hoping that wherever I am they're as into denial as the residents of Sunnyhell are.

He knew he was probably hoping for too much with that but he found it easier to think that way then accept the more realistic probability of him becoming an overnight media sensation. 'Wolverine is real' would be the headline in whatever language the country he was in used and, unless he was very lucky, the authorities would probably post men at every airport, train station and dock trying to get him. After all, who wouldn't want to know more about a real life comic book character that they could experiment on and try to copy the powers from? Well, he, for one, had no intention of being anyone's lab rat no matter what sort of justifications they threw at him, so if they tried he'd do whatever it took to remain free.

If that meant slicing his way through a couple dozen people to reach freedom… he wouldn't like it and probably have nightmares like no one's business, but he'd do it.

Walking along he quickly found himself bored with nothing but vegetation and the odd bird tweeting making him try to think up anything to occupy his mind for the duration of the walk. He thought about Willow and wondered if she'd gotten displaced to some far off country like he had but figured that even if that was the case she had the Iron Man… Iron Woman armor, so she'd be fine. Hell, she'd probably get home before he did seeing as how the armor probably still worked and could fly at supersonic speeds, so there'd be no need to worry about her.

The only person he was concerned about getting home after being repositioned elsewhere on the globe was Buffy, since the Slayer's options would be somewhat limited. His friend wouldn't be able to call home for the money needed for a plane ticket so that only left Giles, but even if that worked it'd mean several hours she'd have to come up with an excuse to tell her mother. Sure, if it was only a couple of hours it could be explained away as staying at Willow's for the night, but anything more than twelve hours would be a little harder to work with.

Maybe I should think up a couple to give her next time I see here, he thought as he continued in the direction of the buildings he'd seen. It'd give me something to think about and it'd help Buff stay out of trouble with Missus S.

Thus for the next few hours he used his imagination to come up with excuse after excuse that could explain a longer than overnight absence to the boss lady of the Summers household.

He tossed out the 'kidnapped by Armenians' one right off the bat.