Special Agent Harris, NCIS

By Fojee

Crossover and AU. Set in middle of S1 of NCIS; post S5 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, except that Xander Harris attended college after S3.

Disclaimer: Bellisario and Whedon owns 'em all.

Will not contain slash. Probably.

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Prologue

"Fresh graduate from a liberal arts college in small town, California, no military background, no background in any law enforcement," Gibbs listed with growing incredulity as he read the open file, "and you want to put him on my team? I don't have time babysitting kids, Director."

Director Morrow stared his best agent down. "Harris is as green as they come, Gibbs, but he has solid references. This went through high channels, Jethro."

Gibbs snorted. He hated people who got by on their father's rep or their connections. "I'd have to check these names out. Just how highly connected is he? Why does he have military references?"

"The info's classified. The most I could get was that Harris got caught in the middle of an op his freshman year at UC Sunnydale, and he saved lives. He's coming in this afternoon at three, Jethro. Don't go anywhere."

The other man grunted to show his assent.

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Rupert Giles, Major Riley Finn, Professor James Lomoski: what do they have in common?

The first was a former high school librarian and British to boot, and yet when Gibbs dug deeper, he found Rupert Giles to be an Oxford graduate and a former curator of the British Museum, now working as a freelance translator and researcher. What had he been doing at an American high school library, and what was his relationship to one Alexander Harris?

Gibbs called the number listed in Harris' resume and got a perky teenager with a Californian accent, before managing to get ahold of Dr. Giles. For someone so learned, the former librarian did not say much. All he got was, "He is someone you'd trust at your back, Special Agent Gibbs. He is more competent than he appears, and is highly astute." He refused to elaborate further.

The second was easier to place, given Morrow's tidbit. Major Riley Finn was working black ops, as black as they come for someone so young. He was currently out of reach of satphone, but he still managed to fax a handwritten note full of glowing praise. Harris has good instincts, and would be a credit to any institution. Blah, blah, blah. There was no mention of whatever transpired in Sunnydale.

James Lomoski was one of the more eccentric professors at FLETC. Harris had graduated at top ten percentile of his class. Not bad but not too good either. "Speaks a little too much, but has more to say than the rest of his class put together. Does not intimidate easily." Good, Gibbs thought. He might survive then.

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And yet he was still surprised when Harris arrived. The young man wore an ill-fitting black jacket with a cheap tie that was a little too tight, but he stood like a soldier, his eyes wary and alert. Gibbs gestured at the door of one of the conference rooms, holding the man's files in his hand.

Xander Harris sat down at the edge of the chair, looking like he'd flee at the smallest excuse.

"You sure you want to be here, Harris?" He asked without preamble.

Xander nodded, trying to keep his doubts to himself. "I know I'm too inexperienced to be a field agent…" He began.

"Damn right you are," Gibbs interrupted. "You're inexperienced, period. Normally, I'd tell you to rack up a few years somewhere else before you come back to me, but some higher up won't let that happen. Anything you wanna say about that?"

Xander shrugged. "I don't know anything about that, sir. I just received word that there's a possible opening in a team here in D.C."

"Word from whom?" Gibbs barked. "And don't call me sir."

"I have friends in the military," Xander replied cautiously. "Let's just say they keep an eye out for me, Special Agent Gibbs. If they do more than that, that's up to them…"

Gibbs slammed the folder on the table, taking pleasure in making the young man jump. "Well if I have no say in it, then there's no point wasting my time interviewing you, is there? You will be part of my team, Harris. That means your ass is mine."

Xander blushed. "Yes, sir. Uh, I mean, Special Agent…"

"Just call me boss."

"Yes, boss."

"Be here tomorrow at 0800. And get rid of that damned tie."

Xander loosened his tie and breathed a sigh of relief. So now he was a Navy cop. "Thanks a lot, Riley," he muttered under his breath, not sure how much he meant it.

---

It all started with a loan.

Rupert Giles took Xander aside after graduation and offered to pay for his college education. Xander was shocked and more than a little flattered by the attention. And that was the reason why he allowed himself to be persuaded.

"But what will I study?"

"Have you never thought about what kind of employment you would like to pursue after you graduate?" Giles asked, while sipping a cup of tea in his living room, Xander right across from him.

He shrugged. "I just figured I'd go through minimum wage jobs until I find something bearable."

Giles looked the boy up and down. "That is a little bleak, isn't it?"

Xander looked at him warily. "Right now, I'm still trying to absorb the fact that I made it out of high school alive."

"But if you don't have something you want to do…" Giles started to argue.

Xander looked down into the murky depths of his cup of coffee. "Well, I guess I like helping people. I like knowing that I'm making a difference, you know." I don't like attending funerals of people who died because I wasn't good enough. He swallowed that thought down, thinking of the classmates who did not make it.

"You could always go into law enforcement," Giles mused.

Xander snorted, almost shooting coffee up his nose. He had an admittedly well-deserved, low opinion of the local cops.

"There is life outside of Sunnydale, Xander."

He made a noncommittal noise. "I won't leave you guys."

Giles linked his hands in front of him and caught his eyes. "We'll see."

And Xander Harris found himself enrolled at University of California in Sunnydale, taking up Criminology.

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Buffy Summers was dead.

Xander attended her funeral, holding a single red rose in his shaky hands. Beside him, Dawn stood like a ghost. She barely spoke these days. Giles stood on her other side, his arm around her shoulder. A step away, and there was Willow, being held by Tara.

He knew Spike was around, feeling the bleached vampire like an itch at the back of his neck. He stifled the urge to invite him to stand beside them; he knew Spike grieved in his own way, and would not appreciate being seen as weak. After all, they had already witnessed his tears right after Buffy fell from the tower.

Anya was gone. She couldn't handle all the recent deaths, and had packed her bags as soon as she hobbled home. Xander still carried the ring in his pocket. He was going to propose to her, but now it would never happen.

They watched the casket being lowered in utter silence, broken by a choked sob or two. There was little in the way of a ceremony. As far as Xander was concerned, the headstone said it all. She saved the world a lot. And she would never be forgotten.

Later, a wan, pale-faced group sat around a table at the Magic Box—closed indefinitely—to talk about what had to be done.

"Faith," Xander said roughly. "We need Faith here."

Giles looked like he wanted to polish his glasses, but his arm was still around Dawn's shoulders, the young teen snuggling at his side like he was the last rock in the hurricane. "Faith still has to serve the remaining years of her sentence, Xander."

"I could call Riley. See if we can get her out the legit way," Xander said somberly.

"And if we can't?" Willow asked tremulously.

"Then we find another way," Xander said, meeting their eyes one by one. "This isn't a debate, guys. We can't hold the hellmouth indefinitely. Not without a slayer."

"We have the Buffybot," Dawn spoke up for the first time.

Xander sighed. "That's just a stop-gap measure, Dawnie. I think it's best for all of us not to rely too much on the bot. It makes grieving more complicated," he said after a moment of hesitation.

"Xander's right." It was Spike who voiced the words, and even Xander raised his eyebrows at that. "I, for one, would prefer that Dawn be moved somewhere safer."

"No!" Dawn cried out. "You're going to call him, aren't you? You're just going to dump me in his lap, when we aren't even sure if he knows me?" She was sobbing openly now.

Spike moved much too fast, and was at her side immediately. "That's not what I meant, Nibblet. Hush, now." He took her in his arms and held her tight.

Giles took the opportunity to polish his glasses. "No one would abandon you to your father, Dawn. As far as we're concerned, we are your family." Dawn was calming down when he continued. "As a matter of fact, I already called him, but merely to handle some paperwork. If you'll agree, I'd like to formally adopt you."

Dawn looked at them all with wide eyes, still held against Spike's chest. "Really?" She asked in a small voice.

Giles smiled at her sadly. "I would be honored if you'd say yes."

Dawn nodded, fresh tears spilling from her eyes.

So it was settled. Dawn and Giles would go to England as soon as the papers were processed. She was resistant to the idea of leaving, but at the same time greeted it with something close to relief. Tara and Willow promised to write; they chose to stay at the hellmouth, at least until they finish their degrees.

"Faith might need some back-up," Willow offered her excuse.

"Wesley already agreed to become her watcher again," Giles reminded her. "And Angel said he'd keep an eye on things."

"We'll see how things go," Tara said, touching Willow's arm lightly. "She may not want our help, baby."

Willow bit her lip. "I guess," she agreed reluctantly.

"What about you, Xander?" Giles asked. "Are you finishing your degree here, too?"

He shrugged. "Well, it'd be a waste if I don't. Then I'll owe you all that money for nothing."

Giles smiled at him fondly. "You could always transfer to a different uni, Xander. There are excellent law enforcement training schools down the east coast, for instance."

"And leave all this behind?" Xander gestured around him mockingly. "On second thought, where do I sign up?"

And he found himself in Virginia, then in D.C. being interviewed by Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

And he barely missed the late nights, the endless research parties, broken by moments of sheer terror as he fought for his life. He had left it all behind, he thought. Oh, if he only knew.

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A/N: I usually don't like to post things that are not complete, but in this case, I felt I needed the boost of having readers constantly nagging me to write. Please review!