How To Be Dead

Bu Lori Bush

Feedback: or onlist is fine
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, etc. own Buffy. You know the routine. I used to try to write cute and clever disclaimers, but now I think cute and clever fiction is better. I aspire to that…
Distribution: Let me know, 'kay? Any list it's sent to is cool.
Summary: The One Who Sees has seen too much.
Continuity: At least seven years after "Chosen."

Rating: They seem to be calling it "T" now…
Author's notes: This idea has been haunting me for a long while. But my writing skills have seemingly left me – I had ideas to make this longer, but it took me so long to write even this much of it to my satisfaction. Outside of a brief and very forgettable piece I thankfully only sent to two people, neither of whom were cruel enough to comment on it at all, I haven't written anything in so long it honestly terrifies me to send this to anyone. Be kind, please.

She saw him before he noticed her; briefly considering turning away without speaking. It had been so long.

She knew it wasn't completely his fault – they'd grown apart almost by choice. Their lives had taken them to different parts of the world; even a friendship as close as theirs had been could suffer the ravages of that kind of distance. They'd all gone their separate ways, and after Andrew was killed by the S'ngath demon, no one else had taken up his task of checking in on and reporting to the various Scoobies. They all still officially reported to Giles, but the Watcher wasn't the sort to pass on gossip or even personal interest items between them. Besides which, the number of times she'd spoken to Giles himself and not one of his various assistants had declined dramatically in recent years, in proportion to the growth of the Council. She suspected his experience had been the same.

Still, once they'd had something special, and he was still the only person who'd brought her back from the dead more than once. She owed him at least a greeting. Summoning her courage, she called out. "Xander."

She saw him hesitate, then shake his head and peer slightly over his shoulder, like he didn't know if he should respond or not. She called again, louder. "Xander!"

He turned fully this time, and she sped her steps to catch the rest of the way up to him. He masked his surprise quickly, but she noticed it anyway before he hid it behind his crooked grin. Her heart lurched at the sight – even though she knew it was partly forced, that smile filled a part of her heart she hadn't realized had been empty for so many years. "Buffy!"

His arms opened wide, and she stepped into them carefully. The hug was awkward but sweet, and as she stepped back, she saw him eyeing her quizzically. She waited for the inevitable question, but he didn't ask, at least not right away. "Long time," he drawled, the grin becoming less feigned and more comfortable, "What are you doing in Atlanta?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she responded. "And I do – what are you doing here?"

"Vacation," he shrugged. "I wanted to go somewhere I'd never been before, and the longer I work for the Council, the fewer places that leaves that qualify. This was one of them. I had lots of frequent flyer miles, and Delta had a great special. You?"

"Officially, I'm assigned to monitor a klatch of Morssago Fairies that are nesting around Stone Mountain. But Morssagos are a pretty quiet bunch, as long as their Queen is left alone, so it's a cakewalk. I petitioned the Council for someplace warm after the three years in Siberia were up, and I think Robin took pity on me and gave me this softball deal. I'm enjoying the rest." She decided to fish for the question he was bound to ask eventually. "You're looking well – I like the goatee."

"You're looking – pregnant." Ah, there it was. She stuck her distended belly out for his perusal. "Demon?"

She had to snort. From anyone else, that question could be considered offensive. "Nope, human. Proving my bad taste in men extends across all forms of life." She paused a moment. "After The Immortal Asshole, I decided that although my track record with humans wasn't stellar, it was far worse with demons. Although now," she unconsciously caressed her bulging middle, "I think it may be a toss-up."

Xander frowned. "I take it he…"

She began to walk, heading the same direction Xander had been when she saw him so she'd be sure he came along. "Bolted like lightning as soon as the test came back positive. I kinda figured it was my only chance at motherhood, so I'm gonna try not to blame the kid for her lousy dad." Buffy smiled brightly to counter the bitter tone in her voice. "How 'bout you? Any little Xanders running around anywhere?"

"Nope. I wouldn't mind, but it takes a willing partner and all." His face grew stormy. "She minded."

"She?" Obviously still licking his wounds, Buffy surmised.

"Ex-wife." His frown deepened.

"Demon?" Buffy echoed his tone from earlier, her face twisted in a wry grin.

"Not technically. Genetically, at least, she was human." He smirked. "Our only problem was that Fayne and I were both in love with the same person. There was only room for one of us in the relationship."

The name resonated with Buffy, and the realization stopped her cold on the sidewalk. "Fayne? Fayne Landau? Fayne 'my family's been part of the Watcher's Council since before the discovery of God' Landau?"

Xander's smile was totally insincere. "I see you've met."

She resumed the strolling pace they'd established. "Not a lot of Fayne's running around."

"Thanks be to whatever god is responsible for that," he responded fervently.

"Whatever possessed you to marry her?" Buffy was genuinely curious. She'd met the woman during her assignment in Rome, soon after the disaster that had been her relationship with The Immortal. Fayne had come to asses the possibility of making Buffy's Vatican Liaison position permanent, perhaps even setting up an entire branch office in the Holy See. By that point, the elder Slayer was eager to get out of the city, and had welcomed the Watcher's interest in the assignment. Still, she hadn't really gotten a warm and fuzzy off of her, and she certainly didn't seem her friend's type.

"The sex was great. You'd think by now I'd've learned that doesn't count for too much." He shrugged. "I do tend to be attracted to lost causes, though." The sadness in his eye told her that once more, Xander had completely given his heart to someone who didn't really appreciate the gift. She realized she herself had been the first in a long line of women who'd abused that honor. She wondered briefly if it was too late to make it up to him.

Looking more closely in his face, she saw a familiar distance – one she'd seen in the mirror after Angel had left – one that Riley had seen well before she'd been aware it was still there. Xander had built a wall now, one that shut him off from additional hurt by eliminating the possibility of anyone else getting close enough to inflict further wounds on his heart. Still deeper in his eye was something infinitely more frightening, but she wasn't willing to look that deeply yet, not wanting to see even more pain beyond that already apparent. She sighed. Looking ahead, she noticed a convenient change of subject, something to fill the time while she figured out how to deal with this perfect stranger who used to be her best friend. "Coffee?"

He shrugged. "Why not?"

"This place is great," she babbled mildly. "One of my favorites." They took a seat at an outside table and gave their orders. "I live a couple blocks away," Buffy ran on, "I come here a lot. You should try the croissants."

The Senior Slayer felt stranded. Somewhere along the line, it had become important to her to make up for all the isolation she knew Xander had been feeling. She knew, from several years of hindsight, that she'd forced him into it, to some degree. She remembered her surprise when he'd announced he'd chosen to go to Africa at a team meeting in Cleveland. Ah, Cleveland. A new, none-too-deep but meaningful conversation topic.

"Seen the Home Team lately?' His puzzled look told her he hadn't connected with the nickname. Funny, she'd thought of him and what he'd have called them when she'd thought it up. More indications he was not longer the Xander she'd once known. "Faith and Robin and the Slayer School gang," she explained.

He stiffened, and that thing lurking in the back of his eye seemed to be trying to surface. "No," he clipped out.

I wonder which one it was brought that on? Buffy mused, Robin, Faith or the school? Or all three? The years had taught her the wisdom of letting go of a subject that obviously touchy, and she dropped it like a hot potato, mentally tagging it for future discussion. Still, she didn't have a conversational leg left to stand on otherwise, so she pushed on with it just a little bit.

"Well, it wasn't until Faith had the twins, I realized Slayers could have babies at all."

"I had a pregnant Slayer, once, in Africa." And could his voice get any colder?

Maybe that was the problem – he'd lost her, or her child, or something. She patted his hand. "I'm sorry. Something must have gone wrong… did she…"

He pulled his hand away and cut her off sharply. "The pregnancy was fine, the baby was healthy. Drop it,"

Buffy gasped involuntarily, trying hard not to stare at him. Finally she could stand the new bristlingly awkward silence no longer. She stood suddenly, mumbling, "S'cuse me, gotta go. Baby's sitting on my bladder. Be right back."

When she returned from the ladies room (after washing her face and studying herself at length in the mirror until she was sure she could come back out and face him), he was on his cell phone, the storm cloud on his face darker than it had been previously. She couldn't hear what he was saying, but by the set of his body and the glint of his eye, she knew he was yelling in that quiet, dangerous way people did when they were far too angry to let their fury loose, for fear it would immolate the world around them.

He thumbed the phone off so hard she thought it might shatter. "Damned thing," he muttered. "Never turning it on again."

The table was clean. The plates and cups had been cleared away. She didn't remember if she'd drank any of her coffee. She didn't care. "Who are you?" she demanded, unable to keep the words from coming out in spite of her best efforts.

He stood abruptly, and started off. She stayed behind, wondering if she'd ever see her former friend again. But then he glanced back, and she realized he'd expected her to follow – so follow she did.

"Her name was Kumani," he began, out of the clear blue sky. Buffy was pretty sure what he was saying in no way answered her question, but she could feel the intensity of his words crawling down her spine, and let him go. "When I first met her, she had just married Joseph. He was a great guy, and they just wanted some 'together time' before she started training. Huh," he grunted, "Kumani. It means 'destiny.' And just like most of my favorite Slayers, hers sucked."

He paused, then the pause went on far too long to be comfortable. He kept walking, though, and she kept pace. Just when she'd finally decided he'd said everything he was going to, he spoke again. "I didn't see her for another year. It's a big continent, and there were quite a few Slayers to find and train. I was busy – I'd left her my number, told her to call if there was any problem." He sounded like he was on the defense in an argument he'd had many times before, possibly with himself. "When she called, I was lucky enough to be near her village. Seems Joseph had been taken – but it was Kumani they wanted. She was five months along, and this asshole shaman needed the blood of 'a Slayer's spawn' to grant himself great powers. He had some demon grab Joseph to get her attention, but he forgot to watch over the demon. By the time we got there, it was too late for him – the demon had played with his new toy a little too hard, and broken it." The anger boiling in his voice was spiced with an undertone of self-recrimination.

"If you ever wonder how you can fight in that condition," Xander waved his hand at her stomach, and she was almost surprised he'd remembered she was still there, "she fought like a hell-bitch on acid. Could have been what they did to Joseph that drove her, though…"

He sighed, and the tension that was radiating off him since leaving the coffee shop dissipated. "Between us, we killed everything there but the shaman, and that was only because we needed to know what was going on. He died of mysterious causes soon after he told us the whole story, though." The satisfied look on his face would have disturbed Buffy, had she seen it.

"Anyway, I needed to take care of her – she had nobody. Her parents had cut her off when she married Joseph, 'cause he was a Christian, and they didn't approve. She wouldn't call on them. So I went through childbirth classes, bought a crib, did all I could to take the place of her dead husband, but I wasn't anything close, and I knew it." His face changed, and almost glowed. "I helped deliver Ade Josephine Alexa even cut the cord. I'm her Godfather," he announced proudly "I have some early pictures, but," his expression closed down again, "I'll never see her again. Kumani's parents took her away after she died and made it clear they didn't want the white man who didn't even protect her to come around again. Even when I brought them proof I'd avenged her..."

He was stone cold again. Buffy's emotions had rollercoastered with his story. Down with the tale of Joseph's death. Up again with the birth of little Ade. Then betrayal at Kumani's death. He lied to me, he told me she AND the baby were fine. Then they spiraled into confusion when he talked of vengeance. How could you avenge childbirth? Take out the stork?

"Jojo was about nine months old when Lelani got to Africa," he soldiered on, unaware of her reactions, apparently unable to do much but rip the story from his memory and spit it at her. "She'd spent a lot of time working her way to the continent. She'd already killed her Watcher, a couple of cops who'd tried to stop her, and an airline stewardess just for kicks before she got to Kumani. Oh, and at least one other Slayer she'd just happened to run across. Seems she wasn't too well balanced before she was called, and Super strength pushed her way over the edge. It took me a few weeks of research to find all the records, but it really wasn't hard. Psych reports, minor arrest records, some animal abuse. All indicating her compass needle didn't stop at North even before she was Called with the Scythe."

"She didn't take me very seriously. Instead she just tied me up, saying I wasn't worth her time, I couldn't do anything to her. Let me and the baby watch while she killed Kumani, and the new Slayer I'd just brought into the compound. Thank God Akia and Sandy were out on patrol."

Buffy wasn't sure when they'd stopped walking. She realized they'd been standing on the corner, traffic whizzing by and people passing, for a while now. And that they were only a half a block from her apartment. She took his arm and pulled him around the corner towards her home.

He was like a broken dam – the words, once started, couldn't stop spilling out. He didn't even seem aware they were moving again. His voice was back to being unnervingly cold and emotionless. "I spent the next weeks in research, finding everything I could on Lelani Manoah. I found out when she was born, when she cut her first tooth, when she got her first detention – her first time in Juvie. I knew what she ate for breakfast, what kind of places she'd hang out. I could recite her psychological profile and even tell you what drugs the doctors wanted her on that she'd refused. I even figured out which Slayer she'd go after next, and got her Watcher to pull her out of Africa right away." He stopped again in the street, just a few feet from the door to Buffy's building. "When I'd prepared the case, I took the information to Giles, and explained to him carefully why she had to be killed, and why I was the best one to do it."

Thank God there was no one outside her building right then. Buffy hustled him into the elevator, clenching his bicep so hard she was sure he couldn't talk again until she let go. To his credit, he didn't wince, although she could see the strain on his face, even through his non-expression. She wasn't using all of her Slayer strength, but it was far more power than she'd usually use on anyone she actually liked. Still, people talking about murder on the sidewalk outside her apartment tended to make her a wee bit paranoid. When they got inside and she locked the door, she let him go.

He rubbed absently at his arm, not seeming to notice how much Buffy was sure it should hurt. Still no real expression marred his face as stood silent in her living room. No, there was a hint of resignation in his eye.

"You killed her," Buffy finally said, trying not to spit it out. She understood why he felt he had to, maybe. It was just – Xander. Killed somebody. Another Slayer. How was she supposed to feel, exactly?

"Yeah," he said, almost innocently. "It was easy. She was the first, but the easiest."

"The…" She heard her teeth snap together, and forgot how to breathe. Her body dropped into the chair that was fortunately behind her. Xander must have taken it for encouragement.

"When I got back to Cleveland, Giles and Robin took a full report. Then they told me about Dana, a Slayer that Angel had called them about the first year after we left Sunnydale. They knew, Buffy. They knew it could happen, and they didn't help Angel, and they didn't tell us. They sent Andrew and some of the new girls, instead." He snorted, no humor in it. "They loaded her with Crucimentium drugs, and kept her locked in the basement in a cage, fed by IV. They'd had her there for three years when they told me about it. She finally up and just died two years ago. I had nothing to do with that one," he snarled.

"Her Slayer dreams looked real to her – that was her only crime. She coulda been helped with anti-psychotics, I think. I didn't have the time to research that one. I think it was Robin's call, while Giles was in London one of the many times, and G-Man just didn't want to undercut Woods' authority. For all I know, he's given all the authority to deal with Renegade Slayers over to Robin. Robin was always the one to call me."

Xander killed Slayers, but there was one that went crazy, and he thought she could have been helped. Robin knew. Giles knew. Xander had killed Slayers. Giles knew. Buffy's head had momentarily stopped spinning, but it was starting again.

"G-Man came to me, alone. Knew I was in a bad place about Kumani, and told me I could help prevent it ever happening again. He said they didn't want to do a Wet Works team like had gone after Faith. They were nothing but killers, didn't care about the girls. He could see how much I cared from the careful research I'd done on Lelani, like I had to convince myself there wasn't any hope for her before I'd take her out. And maybe it was true – I guess it was. I just… I wasn't…" There was a long pause again. "I told him I'd think about it, but I knew I couldn't do it, inside." The story was gut-wrenching, but still being told in the quietest, most unemotional fashion Buffy could imagine.

"Then the shit started to hit the fan. First, I called to check on Jojo and found out her grandparents had gone to the authorities and had her taken away. They just burst into the Slayer compound, threatened the nanny with arrest, made sure everyone knew she was theirs, and to tell me I'd never see her again." Once again, the only real emotion that cracked his stoic calm bled through when the little girl was mentioned. "Then Fayne found out I was in Cleveland. We'd been separated for over a year by then, but she decided that would be a good time to serve me with divorce papers."

He stopped again, pulling back from any feelings and once more reciting coldly. "Megan in San Juan had been attacked, and she thought it had to be another Slayer who did it. I told them I'd check it out, do what had to be done if it had to be done. It took me a lot of undercover work and research, but it turned out Megan's attacker had been a magically enhanced slave trader who was trying to get some muscle for a drug ring in South America. They sent Willow in to nullify the gal's magic, and it was just assumed that if another problem Slayer came along, they could call me." He stopped and stared into space, seemingly introspective. "I never even made it back to the African compound before they called again." He finally sat down on the sofa, running his hands through his hair. "I pretty much never made it back to Africa again."

Maybe Xander hadn't changed all that much after all. He'd do what had to be done to protect the people he loved, and almost all the people he'd ever loved had been Slayers or worked with them. The Scoobies had been pretty much all the family he'd ever had, and once the new Slayers came along, they were added to that category. He'd want to protect them. But still, killing humans to protect other humans – killing Slayers to protect other Slayers…

"Robin called me this time. Said I was needed to do more 'troubleshooting.' Like he was calling on me to fix some fucking computer program. When I balked, he made it clear he knew some people who could do the job, but he wasn't sure they'd avoid 'collateral damage.' He knew I knew what he meant. They'd be just like the old Wet Works guys – any old means to the end. They sure as Hell weren't going to research the girl in question, make sure she really was unsalvageable. Anyway, the message was pretty clear, even though he tried to veil it – innocent girls could get killed if I didn't agree to it." Xander shrugged, trying to go from unfeeling to something more like uncaring. "I'd already done it once, he pointed out. What did I have to lose?" The clenching of his fists gave away his inner anguish.

"Bastard," Buffy muttered in spite of herself.

The trapped animal in Xander's remaining eye was roiling. Except for the storm in his eye, the stone veneer was back. "Naw – he was right. Somebody had to do it, and I'd done it enthusiastically before. Anyway, there were only a few, really a couple, that couldn't be helped with drugs or counseling, or both. Some were being manipulated by outside forces…" he gave a bark of unamused laughter, "Imagine outside forces wanting to control a Slayer, huh? I always made it quick, when it had to be done. There started to be stories about me, though. The girls called me 'The Enforcer.' I was like, the Slayer's worst nightmare. Apocalypses they knew could be stopped. The Enforcer always got his girl."

Buffy gulped. She'd heard the stories, too. She'd occasionally had assignments where she'd worked with a team of new Slayers, and when one would act out, one of the others would threaten that if the girl wasn't careful, they'd send The Enforcer after her. It usually stopped the inappropriate behavior, and Buffy just thought it was a fairy tale the Watchers had come up with the keep the girls in line.

"I did it for four years. Four years of being hated and feared by the girls I'd loved the most. I couldn't very well talk to you or Wills or anyone, 'cause if it got out who I was, doing what I did, I'd have lost the only weapon I had – the surprise. The final year, this last year, I noticed most of the ones I was sent to 'deal with' weren't dangerous at all. The ones that were bad when Called and couldn't be brought back – I'd dealt with all of them. There weren't any new Slayers being Called. The last straw was when Robin called me to go after Vi. It was just bad reaction to some medicine she was taking – her fucking Watcher didn't know her well enough to figure it out, called Robin to have me take her down. I quit – loudly. Not before calling Giles, though, and tearing my way through the crowd of protectors he keeps around himself these days. I told him he'd better get his ass back in the thick of things, since the Watchers that were being put out were as bad as anything Quentin Travers ever produced, and he was going to lose some good girls if he let that go on. Then I took off – finally ended up here. I wouldn't have come here if I'd known…"

"Why don't you go back to being a Watcher, if they're so bad now? Maybe train some of them yourself?" She still wasn't comfortable with what he'd done – but she thought she understood why he'd done it. When all was said and done, he was Xander – her Xander, from way back. He only did bad things when he thought there was no other way, or didn't think at all. She knew this time he'd thought, a lot – and in this case, he did it because he thought others would do worse things, left unchecked.

"It would get out, eventually. Who I'd been, what I'd done. No girl would trust me then. I can't work with someone who'd be afraid of me, not and be a good Watcher. What Slayer would have me once they knew?"

Whatever Buffy might think, it was clear Xander thought of himself as damaged goods. There was a possible answer to his questions, but…

The buzzing silent ringing of his cell cut her off. "Damn," he cursed, "I thought I turned it off." He pulled it from his belt and flipped it open.

With Slayer speed she crossed to him and pulled the small receiver from his hands. "Hi, you've reached the cell phone of Xander Harris," Buffy chirped with artificial cheer. "We're sorry he can't come to the phone right now. Please leave a message after the tone." She then snapped the case closed, hanging up on the caller. She flipped it open again for a moment, pressing the power button, then handed it back to a stunned Xander. "That ought to confuse them for a while, anyway," she smirked. "Robin?"

"Probably," Xander answered carefully, snapping the phone back into the belt clip. "He's been trying to talk me into a new assignment – threatening to cut off my pay and benefits if I don't report somewhere soon." Xander shrugged. "I guess he's gonna have to."

"After what he's…" Buffy pulled her own cell from her pocket, hitting the speed dial button. "I don't think so." She turned her attention to the phone. "Yeah, let me talk to Giles. I don't care if it's the freakin' Queen of England in there, GILES. NOW. Tell him it's Buffy."

She heard the flustered flunky scurry away, and a warm, if slightly irritated voice soon came on.

(Buffy? I was a little busy….)

"I know, but it's important, Giles. I need your help."

(The Queen?)

She waved her hand, dismissing the worry in his voice, forgetting he couldn't see her. "Naw, she's still cool. It's a Watcher problem."

(You don't have a Watcher.)

"That's the problem. I need one."

(I do recall your clearly telling me, repeatedly that you didn't. That you'd been Slaying since before some of them grew chest hair, I believe were your words. Still, I can make some calls.)

"No need. I've got one in mind already. Finally found one I think might be as good as you were. Has almost as much experience, anyway. Besides, from what I hear, you need to be spending more time training those guys with the new chest hair so they can be as good as you were."

(That is what… Xander. Xander's there? Robin told me he'd disappeared.)

"He did, as far as Robin's concerned. And you need to make it clear to old Woody when you call him to tell him, that Xander isn't his concern anymore, and if he keeps hassling him, I'm gonna call his wife and let her in on a few choice secrets."

(I… Please tell him I'm sorry. I never meant for it to go on this long. I thought there would only be a few, if any, more.)

Buffy's voice was stern. "You let it go – one more worry you didn't have to worry about. And it seems he was kept in play too long – long after he was really needed. There were only a few. But power is a tempting drug – you need to watch who you leave it with. He got used, Giles, and I thought that was why we were reorganizing the Watcher's Council, so people wouldn't get used. People, not just Slayers." Her voice softened. "You're lucky he's who he is. First, the power you guys forced on him didn't go to his head – instead it screwed with it. Second, it probably wouldn't even occur to him that you needed to be forgiven." She wouldn't have said that, no matter how softly, had Xander not gone into the kitchen moments ago. He emerged with a glass of water. "So, make it so, Giles."

She saw a real smile on Xander's face, although it was still shaky, as she hung up. "So, Buff – a Picard fan?"

"I have a lot more free time these days – I watch more TV." She gave him a hard look. "You're gonna be my Watcher now. I'm not afraid of you, but I don't know you much anymore, either. You game?"

"Buff, I…"

"From what I heard before you dropped off the radar, you're a pretty good Watcher. That's good, because I don't suffer fools lightly. I know you're no fool, Xander Harris – but can you still be my friend?"

"I dunno, Buffy – it's been a long time since I've been anyone's friend." His voice was gravelly, and she could see wariness on his face.

"No," she pronounced, shaking her head decidedly after a moment's thought, "you've always been my friend – even if we've both forgotten it one time or another. Besides," she continued brightly, "you've done this whole childbirth thing before and I haven't, and I could use a coach. Can you at least stay long enough to do that?" Not waiting for him to think about it, afraid he might run if he did, she pressed on. "I have three bedrooms here, Xan. One for the baby, one's a guest room. Let's go get your stuff from the hotel. You can stay here until you decide. I'll show you what I do, why this is such a great place. Let me sell you on putting the old team back together. You and me. C'mon."

He sound amused at that. "I'm being railroaded."

She grabbed his hand and dragged him out the door, heading for the parking garage. "Choo-choo. I think I can, I think I can…"

She was thrilled to hear him snicker, even if it did take her Slayer hearing to tell.