The second time was even more passionate than the first.
Their relationship, such as it was, started out purely physical. Periodically, they would sneak into a broom closet and neck. Making the relationship public was out of the question. Cordelia dated jocks and lead singers of bands; Xander had spent his life considering Cordy’s social circle to be Public Enemy Numbers One through Ten. Neither could stand the humiliation. Besides, just because they made out didn’t mean they liked each other or anything . . .
Around Buffy’s seventeenth birthday, it did come out, however. Willow, to put it mildly, did not take it well. (“It’s against all laws of God and man!” was her exact comment.)
Unknowingly breaking the curse on his soul, Angel reverted to his old, demonic self and joined Spike and Dru in their quest to wipe out humanity. Angel was now a full-fledged bad guy. Worse, the source of all their info on the curse was Ms. Calendar. It turned out that she had been sent to Sunnydale by the Romany elders to keep an eye on Angel. This little revelation put something of a strain on the Giles/Calendar coupling.
With all that, going public with his and Cordy’s relationship didn’t seem like such a major thing.
Emphasis, he thought, on the word “seem” . . .
BEWITCHED, BOTHERED, AND BEWILDERED
MID-JUNIOR YEAR
CHAPTER 1
The lawyer was found dead with puncture marks in his neck and blood in his mouth. Buffy had tracked down and staked the vampire responsible for the murder. However, the blood in the mouth meant there may have been a sucking thing going on instead of just a feeding. So, the night after the lawyer’s funeral, Buffy’s patrolling consisted of waiting by the graveside in case the lawyer came back as a newly minted member of the Sunnydale Fang Club.
Since this was fairly boring work, Xander offered to keep her company while she waited. Besides, he needed a consultation from a teenage girl. Usually, he’d go to Willow, but since this involved his love life, he thought it would be kinder to talk to Buffy.
After spending ten minutes making lame jokes about the lack of difference between vampires and lawyers, Buffy finally said, “Xander, you’ve been not telling me something since we got here.” She was sitting on the headstone opposite the lawyer’s while Xander paced back and forth.
“Sorry.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the little box from the jewelry store. He opened it and removed the necklace.
It was silver, with a solid silver heart dangling from it. Xander had originally been saving up to buy a snazzy new skateboard. But he hadn’t actually gone ’boarding in almost a year. Besides which, it was February, which meant Valentine’s Day.
For the first time in his life, Xander actually had someone to give a gift to on that day. Hence the trip to Grossman’s Jewelers and the spending of the skateboard money on the necklace.
“So what do you think?” he asked nervously.
“It’s nice,” Buffy said.
“But do you think Cordelia will like it?”
“I don’t know.” Buffy pointed at the heart. “Does she know what one of these is?”
Xander laughed. “Okay, big yuks. When are you guys gonna stop making fun of me for dating Cordelia?”
“I’m sorry,” Buffy said, sounding like she meant it. “But never,” she added, sounding like she meant it a lot more. “I just think you could find someone more—” she hesitated, “better.”
Xander snorted. “Parallel universe, maybe. Here, the only other person I’m interested in is, um, unavailable.”
The look on Buffy’s face showed that she knew who he meant, saving him the embarrassment of saying it out loud.
“Besides,” he continued, ”Cordy and I are really getting along. We’re not fighting as much, and yesterday we just sat together, not even speaking. You know, just enjoying comfortable silence.” He thought back over that, and added, “Man, that was dull.”
“I’m glad that you guys are getting along,” Buffy said with a smile. “Almost really. And don’t stress over the gift.”
“Well, this is new territory for me. I mean, my Valentines are usually met with heartfelt restraining orders.”
“She’ll love it.”
Xander started pacing again. “I wish dating was like Slaying—y’know, simple, direct. Stake to the heart, no muss, no fuss.”
The lawyer chose that moment to climb up out of the grave and embrace his new lease on unlife.
Despite expecting a man in a suit and fangs to come up through the dirt, Xander was still caught off-guard, and fell to the ground in shock. Oh, God, I’m gonna die.
Buffy, however, came to the rescue, as usual. She leaped off the gravestone, grabbed the vamp from behind, and threw him to the ground. As he got up, Buffy gave him a double kick, then punched him four times.
Xander had to admit, he loved watching Buffy in action. No matter how many times he saw her kick butt, he never got tired of it.
This particular vampire, however, had an especially resilient butt. He stood up to her punches, then grabbed her and threw her at the wall of a nearby mausoleum. Buffy took less than a second to recover, give the vamp a low kick to the ankle, then a leaping kick to the throat.
That sent the undead lawyer sprawling on the grass and dirt. As he tried to get up, Buffy reached into her jacket, pulled out a stake, and slammed it into the guy’s heart.
Scratch one undead member of the legal profession, Xander thought as the vampire collapsed into dust. If that isn’t a redundancy or anything.
Buffy reached out to help Xander up. “Sorry to say, Xand, Slaying is a tad more perilous than dating.”
Smiling, Xander said, “Well, you’re obviously not dating Cordelia.”
Valentine’s Day in Sunnydale, and Cordelia Chase was concerned.
Nobody called her back last night. They had major outfit coordinating to take care of for tonight’s dance. If they weren’t careful, there might be some serious fashion overlap—or worse, someone could be dressing in something old. Katie in particular had a tendency to wear last month’s clothes. Cordelia had been trying to break her of the habit, but it was slow going.
Cordelia had just purchased a gorgeous new red linen minidress, and so she needed to get Dori to switch to a different outfit. Dori could always wear that red silk sleeveless dress to the pledge dance, or something.
She saw Harmony, Laura, Kimberley, and Dori all sitting around at one of the walls.
But as Cordelia started walking toward them, they got up and headed into the school. Didn’t they see me?
“Wait up,” she called out to them, and walked faster across the quad so she could catch up. But they didn’t stop. “Hey, wait up!” she said, louder. When she finally reached them, she said tersely, “Excuse me? Where’s the fire sale?”
The four of them stopped and turned around. “Oh, sorry,” Harmony said. “Didn’t see you.”
Cordelia could’ve sworn they’d looked right at her just before they got up, but she decided she had been imagining it.
“Well, why didn’t you call me back last night? We need to talk about our outfits for the dance. I’m going to wear red and black,” she looked pointedly at Dori, “so you need to switch.”
“Red and black?” Kimberley interrupted. “Is that what Xander likes?”
“Xander?” Cordelia asked. “What does he have to do with this?” Fashion consultation was, after all, girls’ work. Boys—least of all Xander, the terminally fashion impaired—didn’t enter into it.
Harmony said, “Well, a girl wants to look good for her geek.”
They all giggled at that. Giggled! Cordelia couldn’t believe it. “Xander is just—”
Harmony interrupted. “When are you two gonna start wearing cute little matching outfits? ’Cause I’m planning to vomit.” She looked at the other three. “Let’s go.”
They all walked off, leaving Cordelia with her mouth hanging open.
She was stunned. First she’s interrupted—twice!—and then
she’s walked out on.
What is their deal?
Then she sighed. Their deal is my loser boyfriend. And if one of them started dating Xander, would I be acting any different?
As the bell rang in English class, Ms. Beakman said, “Papers on my desk. Anybody tries to leave without giving me a paper is looking at a failing grade.” The paper was instead of a midterm. You had to write an essay on one of five novels. Xander had gone for Great Expectations, a book he found barely readable. The recent movie version was a lot easier to get through, but that was mainly because it had Gwyneth Paltrow in it.
It had taken all night, but Xander had somehow managed to squeeze a six-page paper out of the inanity of Charles Dickens’s alleged classic. “Ha ha ha,” he muttered as others in the class got up and handed their papers in, “this time I’m ready for you. No F for Xander today. No, this baby’s my ticket to a sweet D-minus.”
As Xander gathered his books into his backpack, he noticed Willow saying hi to Amy Madison. “Hey, Amy.”
“Hey,” the thin blonde said in reply. “You guys going to the Valentine’s Day Dance at the Bronze? I think it’s gonna be a lot of fun.”
Willow looked like she was about to burst. Here she goes again, Xander thought.
“Go ahead,” Buffy said, “you know you want to say it.”
“My boyfriend’s in the band!” Willow squealed.
Assuming he’s had his paper training, Xander thought, perhaps a little cruelly. Xander mostly liked Oz, but he had a problem with Willow dating a guy who turned into a slavering beast three nights a month.
Then again, in this town, that makes him pretty standard dating material . . .
“Cool,” Amy said in response to Willow, laughing.
“I think you’ve now told everybody,” Buffy said.
Willow grinned. “Only in this hemisphere.” Xander rolled his eyes. This was a level of goofiness that Willow usually only achieved when computer software was involved.
“What about you?” Amy asked Buffy.
“Oh, Valentine’s Day is just a cute gimmick to sell cards and chocolate.”
Amy nodded. “Bad breakup, huh?”
“Believe me when I say, ‘uh-huh.’ ”
Buffy and Willow handed in their papers to Ms. Beakman just as Xander got up from his chair. As they walked out, Amy approached the teacher and looked right at her.
Ms. Beakman looked blankly ahead for a minute, then proceeded to mime receiving a paper. “Thank you, Amy,” she said.
Amy then smiled and left.
What just happened here? Xander thought.
Then he remembered Amy’s mother.
Catherine Madison had been the Sunnydale High School cheerleading champion some twenty years back. Her trophy still had a place of honor in the display case outside the library. When her daughter refused to follow in Mommy Dearest’s footsteps, Catherine decided to dabble in the occult. She found several spells, including one that would switch her body with her daughter’s so she could relive her glory days as a Sunnydale High cheerleader.
In order to make the squad, Catherine had done some serious damage, causing one girl to spontaneously combust, sealing another’s mouth shut, striking Cordelia blind, and hitting Buffy with some kind of whammy that almost killed her. Giles managed to reverse the body-switching spell, and Buffy had used a mirror to reverse one of Catherine’s magic attacks.
No one knew what became of Catherine after that. Amy went to live with her father and stepmother, and seemed happy to stay far away from Mom’s old vocation.
Looks like she had a thing for Mom’s other hobby, though, Xander thought as he handed his own paper to Ms. Beakman, then ran to catch up with Willow and Buffy.
“I just hate to think of you solo on Valentine’s Day,” Will was saying as Xander came up behind them.
“I’ll be fine,” Buffy said. “Mom and I are gonna have a pig-out and vidfest. It’s a time-honored tradition among the loveless.”
Xander asked, “Did you guys see that?”
“See what?” Buffy asked in reply.
“In class. I think Amy just worked some magic on Ms. Beakman.”
Buffy frowned. “You mean like witchcraft?”
“Y’know, her mom’s a witch,” Willow said, her thoughts tracking with Xander’s.
“And an amateur psycho,” Buffy said, showing that her thoughts tracked with Xander’s also. “Amy’s the last person that should be messing with that stuff.”
Xander started, “Maybe I should go talk to—”
He was interrupted by a British voice calling out, “Buffy!” He looked up to see Giles approaching. Just for something different, he was wearing tweed. “Buffy, can I have a word?”
Buffy shrugged. “Have a sentence, even.” “Oh, good,” Giles said, taking a minute to get the joke. “Well . . .”
Giles trailed off. The Watcher was staring at a point behind the trio. Xander turned to see Ms. Calendar walking out of her computer class, talking to one of the students.
Then she turned and saw the four of them.
The temperature in the area seemed to Xander to drop about thirty degrees, the cold radiating from Buffy, whose entire body tensed up.
After an awkward silence, Ms. Calendar said, “Rupert.”
“Ms. Calendar,” Giles said tersely in reply.
Another awkward silence. Xander shifted from foot to foot, wanting to be anywhere but here. Ever since Jenny Calendar’s involvement in Angel’s curse had been revealed—even if only as a bystander—the Slayer and her Watcher had turned a united back on the techno-pagan. It had brought her growing romance with Giles to a grinding halt.
“I’m glad we ran into each other actually,” Ms. Calendar finally said, nervously twirling her raven-black hair. “I was hoping we could, uh . . . You have a minute?”
“Uh, actually, not just now,” Giles replied coolly. “I have a matter I must discuss with Buffy.”
Buffy finally turned to look at Ms. Calendar. If looks could kill, Xander thought, there’d be the corpse of a computer science teacher in front of us.
“Right,” the Slayer said coldly. “Let’s go.”
Giles and Buffy walked off.
Xander had never really understood what the phrase tension so thick you could cut it with a knife meant until this particular moment.
Ms. Calendar glanced at both Xander and Willow, looking pained. Willow looked stricken. Xander had no idea how he himself looked.
Finally, the computer-teacher-cum-Gypsy walked off, the clack clack of her heels sounding unusually loud against the linoleum floor.
Xander let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Well, that was fun. Xander was of the opinion that Buffy was way overreacting to Ms. Calendar. Yes, she had lied to them, though was it was more a lie of omission. But Buffy seemed to be holding Ms. Calendar responsible for what happened to Angel. To Xander’s way of thinking, that fell square into the category of misdirected aggression.
Besides, with Angel having gone to the other side, they needed all the allies they could get. Alienating someone with Ms. Calendar’s magical talents wasn’t practical.
But who’s thinking practical? What’s Willow’s line—“Love makes you do the whacky”?
Sighing, he and Willow went off to their next class in silence.
Giles led a very stiff Buffy into the library. His own emotions were whirling like a dervish, but he kept them under control. That was his job, after all: to keep his own emotions in check as he supported the Slayer.
Right now, the Slayer wanted nothing to do with Jenny Calendar. Whether or not Giles agreed with her sentiments was irrelevant. How Giles felt about Jenny was even less relevant. He was the Watcher. He had a duty.
And he had the tattoo of a mystic sigil on his left arm as a constant reminder of what happened the last time he shirked his duty.
“Are you okay?” Buffy asked.
Giles almost laughed, but it would’ve been a bitter one. “Me
? I’ll be fine,” he lied. He forced his thoughts back to his reasons for summoning Buffy in the first place. “I’m a little more concerned about you, actually. Since Angel, um—turned, I’ve been reading up on his earlier activities. Feeding patterns, and the like.” He hesitated.
“And?” Buffy prompted.
“Around Valentine’s Day, he’s rather prone to brutal displays of—what he would think of as affection.”
“Like what?”
Images of brutalized pets and severed limbs floated into his head, and he decided to spare the Slayer the specifics. “No—no need to go into detail.”
“That bad?”
“Suffice it to say, I think it would be best if you stayed off the streets for a few nights. I’ll patrol, keep my eye on things. Better safe than sorry.”
Buffy let out a long breath. “It’s a little late for both.”
Giles couldn’t think of anything to say in response to that.
CHAPTER 2
The vampire named William—sometimes called “the Bloody,” most often called Spike—didn’t go for the gift-giving sentiment as a rule. Valentine’s Day, though, was different, especially this year, for two reasons. For one thing, Spike had always liked the idea of celebrating the anniversary of one of history’s more entertaining massacres.
For another, given his physical condition, gifts were all he could give to Drusilla.
It was maddening, really. Spike had only come to Sunnydale in the first place in order to find some way to cure Dru of her illness. While the physical wounds of the mob attack in Prague had healed, she was still drained, like a car with a low battery.
They had finally found a cure in the du Lac manuscript, stolen from the Sunnydale High library. Though they hadn’t completed the ritual laid out in the manuscript, they had done enough to restore Drusilla to her old self. But that thrice-damned Slayer put another one of her spanners into the works by dropping a church organ on him and leaving him to burn.
Spike had encountered many Slayers in almost two centuries. None of them had even so much as scratched him. He’d even killed two of them himself.
THE XANDER YEARS, Vol. 1 Page 12