Title: Tales of the Undead Zeppo: I am not Xander
Author: Lucky13
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Joss owns all - I, nothing…
Summary: Xander joins the ranks of the Undead.
Dedication: For Serenity G., Jade, Katie, Daniel and Grey Bard – thanks for the feedback, I hope this meets with your approval…
I am not Xander
Archivist's note: The following is a transcription of the first of several audiotapes discovered in the files of Watcher Rupert Giles following his death. Exactly how the tapes came into his files is unknown. The tape is not dated, but from the events described we can assume that it was made in October of 2001. Cross-reference to the following files: Buffy Anne Summers and X/Xander/Alexander Lavelle Harris.
Begin transcript.
I am not Xander; I am the UnXander. As in undead, badass, blood-sucking fiend...Here I sit, biding my time in an abandoned warehouse, waiting for sunset to free me from my confinement, wracking my brain for a new name…Rising from your own grave is a literal rebirth into a New World. Many of us take new names to commemorate our new existence. It reminds me of that line from The End by Jim Morrison and The Doors, "And he took a face from the ancient gallery, and he walked on down the hall…"
I need a new name in order to honor and horrify my now unfriends, Buffy the Slayer and the Slayerettes. I have considered such variations like Alex or Alexander, but they just don't seem to have that certain…punch. I want my very existence to cause them pain, and a new name is a good place to start. Anti-Xander is cool, kind of like Anti-Christ – but it just doesn't roll off the tongue with the simple ease I'm looking for. I need something that will remind them of the old me, yet makes it clear that I am not what I was. I am no longer anyone's Zeppo…
Yes, my sense of humor will be a fine weapon…But I must also have patience…Angelus was lucky, I guess…When Darla sired him, he had the opportunity to immediately slaughter his entire family – so my sire told me. Oh, I ate my pig of a father and my bitch of a mother, but they really don't count, do they? No, my human family is consists of three persons – Giles, Willow and Buffy…Oh Buffy, how my unbeating heart yearns for you! My dead blood sings at the very thought of you…You will be mine – mind, body and soul. Although, I won't keep the soul once it comes into my possession, we'll be tossing that over and starting from scratch, yes we will - but I must be patient, oh so patient.
I must gather my strength, weigh my options. Too many newbies rise from the ground thinking that they can take the Slayer by just wanting to. I know better - I have distinct advantage here; I was Xander – White Knight and Jester to the Queen. I know how she thinks, how they operate – I must use every bit of knowledge to strengthen my blow when it comes. No, there will be no hurried blow from me, no frantic taking of hostages, no showy theatrics like leaving a dead gypsy in Giles' bed, not yet anyway…I will try to keep things simple at first…Yes, simplicity is the key. Keep It Simple, Stupid – I will simply exist for a time. Just touch her and walk away…
I am in no hurry. The Orb is in my safekeeping; they cannot curse me with a soul. I am demon, hear me roar. I am dead, watch me walk. I loved you once, but not anymore. I will possess you, Slayer of hearts, as the Zeppo never could. Yes, miss your Zeppo, Buffy – your lapdog, your puppet, your Xander-shaped-friend - mourn his passing, for he is no more. I stand in his place, and I am not Xander.
I am not Xander…
End tape transcription. The tape was badly damaged at some point, making further transcription from it difficult. Further analysis will have to wait upon attempts at restoration.
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I feel him before I see him.
I feel them all, of course; my Slayer Sense – cute name for the cramping little pain I feel inside me whenever the undead are in the vicinity. I'm so used to it by now, that I don't even think of it as pain. Strange, I felt it the entire time I was with Angel…No, it doesn't even register as pain anymore.
I'm in The Dungeon – Sunnydale's new club – The Bronze finally got some competition. Some new promoter in town converted a warehouse space into a rave nightclub. The décor is post-modern torture chamber. The over-twenty-one section is caged off from eighteen-and-over section where the bands play. There is a big bouncer dude checking IDs at the opening in between. I'm standing in line for sodas at the non-alcoholic bar – suddenly my sense is screaming its fang alert. I scan the club and there he is, in the bar on the other side of the cage…
Oh my heart…He's leaning against the bars, smiling his little smile. His brown eyes seem warm and inviting, completely ignoring the fact that he's an animated corpse. He has adopted the black leather jacket that so many bloodsuckers wear, but on him it looks good. Black jeans, engineer boots, a white T-shirt and a tiny necklace of black puka shells completes his new look. His hair is the same though, tousled and unkempt. I fight a strong urge to take a comb to him, after I hug the stuffing out of him. Then I notice that he isn't breathing. I remember what he is now, who I am, and what I do...
I walk over to him. He's cautious, he moves away from the bars – but his expression is unchanging, it's still warm and friendly. We just look at each other for a long moment. I keep expecting some vampire diatribe, some undead manifesto from him. You know - how he's going to kill us all and bring about the apocalypse – the usual. But he seems content to just look at me.
Finally, I can't take it anymore, "That was pretty swift how you nabbed The Orb of Thesulah so quick…"
He doesn't answer but his smile widens, he looks almost bashful for a moment. Both of my hands are gripping the bars in front of me. He closes the distance between us by a step. His eyes close briefly as he delicately sniffs the air. His eyes capture mine as he finally speaks, "Mmm, you smell great – what are you wearing?"
This is bad. He's in charge of the conversation, "CK-One…"
"It's wonderful…Good to see you by the way, especially with bars between us. That wasn't very nice of you the other night, you trying to shoot me like that."
"What, big bad vampire like you, afraid of a little tranquilizer dart?"
He laughs, "Strange way to welcome me back into the world, isn't it?"
"We want to help you Xander -"
"Don't call me that…I don't like that name anymore…" His expression is still friendly, his eyes are dancing merrily. This is just so wrong…I can feel myself tense; my knuckles show white as I squeeze the bars. The metal in the bars squeals a little from the pressure of my fingers. Here it comes…"What should I call you then?"
He bites his lip and claps his hands together once, "Now, I've given this a lot of thought, so tell me what you think…I want you to call me X…"
My mind is reeling, "X?"
He laughs, "I know, it sounds lame at first, like I'm copping it from Speed Racer or The X-Men or something…But it grows on you, check it out…X marks the spot. X is the unknown. X-Games, going to the extreme – exacting my pound of flesh – "
"I know you can go on and on, but I really wish you wouldn't."
"Fair enough…We have time enough for everything, you and I…We have all the time in the world…" With undead swiftness, his hand comes out and he caresses the back of my hand where it grips the bars. The pressure is light, the barest of touches, and just one finger gliding along the path of a vein. With Slayer swiftness, I release the bar and try to grab his hand. He is too quick; his hand is free. He shakes his head a couple of times, his smile unending. Suddenly he turns and disappears into the crowd.
I push past the bouncer and race after him. He ran out an exit, and I follow, hoping to catch sight of him, but I don't…He's gone…
Xander is gone…