Disclaimers:

Based wholly or partly on characters and situations created by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox Television and who knows what others. Rated T: An unauthorized work of speculative fiction with some adult situations and sexual content, graphic language, brief nudity and mature themes. Parental discretion is advised. Any similarity between these characters and any person or persons living, dead, or Canadian is purely coincidental and/or comical. Do not distribute for profit or without notification please. Not to be taken internally. No user-serviceable parts inside. Made in the USA. Where do we go from here? Strongest fan fiction available without a prescription. May cause dizziness, dry mouth or nausea. Do not read my fan fiction while driving, drinking or operating heavy machinery.

Author's Note: Edited for minor errors and clarity throughout. Consider this the Buffy universe, post-"Chosen" and more or less compatible with canon through the end of Angel S5. So then, please take pull up a printout, settle in, and enjoy "The Key and the Carpenter."

-ReverendKilljoy

The Key and the Carpenter

Prologue.

November 24.

His hands were scarred. If you knew the scars, you could mark out the stories of his past like picking out constellations in the stars. A thin cut, like a large knife or a small sword might make sliding down past the hilt of his blade. A half-dozen years working with hammers, saws and pliers had left their marks as well. The tiny white circle, a nail gun had put a brad right through the edge of his hand. His wrists were both chafed permanently, where he had pulled out of manacles, or ropes, or both, over the years. They were not pretty hands.

No one who worked with him would know that he thought about this. He was outgoing, inquisitive, and inclusive in a way that made him a natural leader for the mixed crews of volunteers and paid laborers on the Habitat jobs. He had the natural gift of talking to anyone, and the selflessness to not be too full of himself. He could be quiet too, with the quiet of a man who didn't naturally know when to shut up, but had had it painfully taught to him over the years.

He carefully held a piece of molding against a doorjamb and checked the fit. Then he tilted his head to the right and checked again.

"kerFFFT!" said the nail gun mutedly. Look. Tilt. Look. "kerFFFT!" And so on, in a methodical way down the molding strip till it was fastened. Securing the nail gun, he backed away from his last task of the day. This was the finishing piece on the doorway, the doorway to a bedroom. The bedroom was in a small but solid house, the house in a development at the edge of town. Habitat for Humanity was building the house for a single dad, a widower and his three kids who were living in a shelter just outside Lago Vista.

He began to shake off the dust, that pungent blend of gypsum board and sawdust and latex house paint that says New House Smell, and put away his tools. He was the last to leave the site, and would normally be the first to arrive in the morning. Not tomorrow, tomorrow Carlos and Mandy would have to boss things. He was sure they would be fine.

I.

The Previous September.

For almost ten years, he had fought the good fight. Demons, vampires, gods, and evil men had taken their toll on his friends, his town, and his body. He had never surrendered. He had rarely wavered. In the last battle, even after losing his eye, he had stood his ground. But that had been the beginning of the end, the fight against the First. He had reached the limit of what he could do, how far he could push, and he had looked to find another way to make his life count.

He had thought about going hardcore, like Robin Wood. A life of training, sacrifice, training, and did I mention the training? But he knew that he didn't have it in him, too much empathy for that kind of isolated warrior Zen. He was, in the end, a nice guy, a good carpenter, a loyal friend. He needed to find another way to fight.

He had been sitting at the airport, LAX, waiting for his best friend Willow and her girlfriend to meet him. They had been to China on some sort of demon diplomacy thing, very hush-hush, for the new Watchers' Council. It helped him realize that he was getting farther out of his depth. They would always need him as a friend, a moral compass. He was the guy who fixed things, who provided the unconditional love, who put the world above his own happiness. But less and less did they need him along for every step, and when Willow called to tell him they were late, he knew it was time.

"We have to go to Cleveland and pick up Vi, then we're going straight to London…" Willow's voice was still breathlessly girlish over his cell phone, and it made him smile. "So, er, do you want to come with? I know Buffy misses you, and I bet she'll be in London. I think Rome is starting to make her a little with the crazy," she confided.

"I can't, Will. Dawn is coming back to see me in a few weeks when she's done at school, and I promised Disneyland. If I left now I'd have to turn right back around." His voice was calm, sure. He sounded so much like a grownup that Willow, still miles from LA on a JAL flight, shot a look at her phone to make sure she had the right number.

"Okay, well I guess that makes sense. You guys have fun, and see you soon. Well, soon as you come see us, or we come see you. But if we come see you and you come see us we'd miss each other…" Her girlfriend, Kennedy, laid a hand on her shoulder, not opening her eyes where she was dozing next to Willow.

"Honey. Babbling."

"Oh. Right. With the babbling." Willow squeezed Kennedy's hand and directed her attention back to her cell phone. "Xander, I miss you, too. Love you."

"Love, Will. Safe travels." He hung up and looked at the phone. He now officially had nothing to do till Dawn came for Disney. Well, one little thing. He had to go by an insurance office and pick up a check. Seems the company had carried insurance on all its workers back in Sunnydale, and in addition to his layoff package there was some sort of bonus for management. He'd never thought of himself as management, but the lawyer had said they had a check, so he figured he'd go pick it up.

Xander had done well for himself in Sunnydale, near the end. The school that had been sucked into the Hellmouth during the final battle with the First had been brought in on time, and under budget. His bosses had planned on surprising him with a promotion- Project Manager for Residential and Commercial Construction. Instead, they had fled Sunnydale along with most of the 'civilian' population and the company was basically gone. The lawyers were closing up shop and closing the books.

What Xander didn't know was that he had already been listed with the company's law firm in LA and with their insurance company as a management employee. The two dollars for ADD that came out of his weekly check, he knew, was something about benefits. Accidental Death and Dismemberment insurance, it was, and based on his newly promoted salary, it came to quite a bit. His layoff package was also generous, since so few officers of the company had made it out and been contacted by the lawyers. For losing an eye, even off the job site, his company ADD insurance was substantial. With his layoff buyout…

"Mr. Harris?" The receptionist took in the rather broad-shouldered man, with unruly dark hair starting to show some premature whitening at the temples. If it weren't for the eye patch he'd be sort of cute, she thought.

"Present, er, I mean, yes?" Being called by his last name still brought school flashbacks after all this time.

She smiled at his somewhat lopsided grin, and thrust a clipboard at him. If it weren't for the grin, he'd be sort of dashing, she thought.

"Please print your name at the top, and sign on both highlighted sections, and you can take your check."

"Sure." He printed. He signed. "Um, thanks."

She looked after him. Okay, cute and dashing, she decided.

He walked to his car, the stiff envelope in his back pocket. He figured he had a full paycheck coming to him, maybe two. Things had been so crazy at the end, and it had taken almost two years to get this to him. Still, it would be nice to have some walking-around money.

His basic living expenses were modest by California standards, and he worked odd carpentry jobs to supplement the stipend Buffy had arranged for him as a 'Consultant' to the new Watcher's Council. He enjoyed an older but comfortable one bedroom in an LA suburb called Lago Vista, sublet from a newly activated Slayer in Training. She was probably complaining to Giles and Andrew about English food right about now. Xander worked most days, took off most weekends. He was never broke and rarely flush, but the sheer normalcy of it was starting to become very comforting, if a little lonely.

On his way to the bank, he passed his favorite video store. His "Chronicles of Narnia" box set was due in, prepaid, and with the trip to LAX he had totally forgotten about it. With visions of talking lions, monsters that can be killed by ordinary swords, and armies that don't include dying teenage girls crying out in the night, he turned in at the video shop and stuffed the check into the console of his car, to lie forgotten for weeks.

II.

October 8.

Xander drove his Chrysler into the pickup area of the terminal at LAX. Before September 11, you could wait at the gates for your friends and family. When things had been really bad at home one Christmas years ago, he had actually driven to LAX with his buddy Jesse, just to watch people coming off the planes. Just to see the hugs, the happy reunions, the kisses, and the crying.

Today it was his family coming home, and he had to circle like a parking lot vulture at Wal-Mart instead of waiting at the jet-way. He cocked his head at his own thought. Dawn was family? Well, how else… Real or imagined, she had been a part of his life for 10 years, and she was extra special to him because, like him, she wasn't special. Not the super powered strength and healing, or veiny blowing up the world kind of special, anyway.

All he knew was, he'd missed her. She had been finishing school back east, and had decided to see him before going over to Europe with her sister. It flattered him that she came to see him first, that he still mattered in her world. She was such a good kid, and had handled a rough life with humor and dignity, after a tough start at school. She might have shoplifted a little, been a bit unwise in her choice of crushes (Ahem! Spike! Ahem!), but she had grown past it. Xander sometimes wondered if her sister ever noticed just how far Dawn had put her problems into the past. He doubted it. Buffy usually had to have her nosed rubbed in it to see people had changed, for better or for worse.

He suddenly saw a figure jump out at the car and he mashed down on the brake. The car lurched to a stop and his heart lurched with it. He was a good driver, but his blind side some times made him almost too cautious behind the wheel, and sudden changes startled him.

"Hey watch it, lady," he said out loud. "Just watch it, really pretty lady. Really pretty lady who is waving at me and shouting something. Really pretty lady who is… Dawnie?" He shut up, mercifully, just as she opened the door.

III.

"XANDER!" She leaned across the seats and hugged him, her floppy hat sliding off to release the cascade of brown hair he had been looking for in the crowd.

"At your service, Dawn Patrol." He threw a quick salute as he gathered his thoughts. That could have been awkward, he mused. "Where's your stuff?"

"Just this," she said slinging a carryon bag into the back and sliding into the seat next to him. "I've been trying to call you and tell you I was here, but my phone's dead and the charger is, I am pretty sure, in the suitcase the airline has sent to Columbus."

He carefully merged back into the flow and headed for the airport exit. He gestured towards the glove box.

"If you still have that little Motorola I sent you, I have a spare plug in the console somewhere I think. Welcome to LA, Dawnie."

Before looking for the cord, she turned, pulling one leg up and twisting round to face him. "Welcome to LA? What am I, a tourist? I've lived my whole life in California, Xander. If I had a home to come home to, this would be it."

She suddenly dimpled. "Gosh it's good to see you. I'm so glad you decided to let me come visit." She touched his arm in a very comfortable way, careful not to distract him but wanting to let him feel that she was there.

Dawn had been the best at being comfortable around him after he lost his eye, always staying on his good side, or keeping a fingertip on his arm or a little stream of chatter and humming that let him place her in the room, even when he could not see her. It wasn't something she practiced, and neither of them ever commented on it. She was just the one girl he could always relate to, literally relate to, like a navigation beacon. Hmmm, not a very flattering image. He grinned.

"You can always come here, Dawnie. You know that."

They settled in for the drive to his place, and she began to hunt for a charger for her phone.

"Any chance we can stop by a mall for a minute? I'm going to need some things if they can't get my suitcase here tonight."

"As if. You've never stopped at a mall for only a minute in your life."

She let loose a low chuckle that was warm and honest. "Guilty as charged. I throw myself on the mercy of the court!"

"Well, call me Your Honor and we'll stop after we get back to Lago Vista. Not a completely horrible town, at least by non-Sunnydale standards"

"Yes, Your Honor. Hey, you a spy or something now?" She was looking at a folded envelope of heavy paper, stamped 'Personal and Confidential' in red across the flap. "Very Top Secret looking."

Xander spared a quick glance at the envelope before returning his eye to the road. "Hey, I'd forgotten about that. It's my last check from the construction company. I got some sort of settlement. Totally forgot about it."

"Xander!" She sounded shocked and somewhat put out. Both of them could recall times when forgetting about an un-cashed check would be like forgetting about breathing. Financial stability still held some novelty for both of them.

"Tell you what, I already did bills this month and got us some passes for Disneyland from one of my contractors. Open that up and we can have some 'mad money' for this week, okay?"

Dawn squealed in what she knew was a far too girlish way, then bounced eagerly a couple times in a way that was decidedly not so girlish any more. Her time at prep school had been good to Dawn, and she knew it, not that Xander could see while he was driving.

She stopped for a moment, recalling her Xander-centric fantasies of years ago, and amused that she still worried about him noticing her 'that way' after this time. He was… Xander. The one person in her life who never ran off, never stopped caring, never took everyone else's side.

She tore open the envelope suddenly, heading off that unexpectedly serious vein of thought. Thinking, not good. School over, playing begun. No thinking.