ficlet post: "If Buffy Never" Buffy, Xander

[wisdomeagle]

Title: "If Buffy Never"
Fandom: Buffy: the Vampire Slayer
Characters: Buffy, Xander
Rating: PG-13 for language
Notes: For callmesandy, who wanted Buffy and Xander or Buffy/Xander, with lyrics from "Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)." I was listening to country music and inspired to write Xander-fic, but I was only very loosely inspired by the lyrics. Still, here it is.
Timeline/Spoilers: Extremely AU.
Summary: For what it's worth, it was worth all the while.
Words: 552



If Buffy Never

"Hey." The woman is his age but tough, looks almost like a bulldyke -- a silent apology in Willow's direction -- but her hair is long and her muscles hidden beneath a layer of softness. In any event, she's butch. Blonde hair in a tight braid, tight pants. Hot, but he's a married man. "I heard there was trouble."

"Oh? This is Sunnydale. We get a lot of trouble here."

She sighs and looks past him. "I know." Then she grins too broadly and asks, "You are Xander Harris, right?"

"Back when I was actually faking preppie, yeah. Alex now."

"Oh." She squints at the ballpoint chicken scratch on her left palm. "Rupert definitely said Xander. He'll need to be punished." The woman's grin could become addictive. "So, if you had to narrow the recent troubles in Sunnydale down to the top three...?"

He catches he drift, rides the wave for awhile. "The high school," he tells her. "The kids are being more delinquent everyday, and I'm not just saying that because I'm pushing thirty." His father's voice is somewhere deep in his throat. "And I've heard rumors about the college."

"U.C. Sunnydale." She's studying the notes on her hand again. "We're looking into it. I was hoping there was something more personal? Anything odd in your life?"

He nods slowly, then changes his mind. "My mom -- but that's not unusual."

"What?"

"She's dead."

"Oh, gosh, I -- oh." She touches his arm awkwardly. "I didn't mean to intrude, but it's kind of essential -- can you tell me about it?"

"She died," he says. "It happens, especially here."

"Was she old?" The woman's questioning is gentle but persistent. She's like the police detectives on TV -- skilled like she's been doing this for years.

"Fifty's old for Sunnydale."

Her eyes close for a long second, then open. "My mom was only forty-five -- and she didn't even live on a hell, uh, hellish place."

"Okay... are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"When's your mom's funeral? Can I attend? Don't tell me it's open casket."

To calm that note of panic, he'd gladly lie, but fortunately lying is non-essential. "We don't believe in open caskets in my family. It's... safer."

"See, I told Rupert the citizenship couldn't be totally mentally deficient. That's smart."

"Smart is good?"

"You might even live to be thirty at this rate. God knows I won't -- so you're way ahead of the game."

"Uh --"

"No, forget it."

"My mind is a blank slate."

"Okay! So, good luck."

"I don't get a name?"

She opens her mouth, then pops it closed, shakes her head.

"Not even a clue?"

"You're better off not knowing -- trust me. Friends of mine tend to have short lifespans. Besides, I've got this whole woman of mystery aura going. Why blow it?"

"Good point. A good aura is a terrible thing to let go of."

"Trust me. This isn't a game, and it's not something you want to get involved in. Forget this, forget me, try to forgive your mom for dying -- just, don't get involved."

Her grin is addictive, but her pleading eyes are impossible to refuse. Only thing is, he's pretty damn sure she'll be impossible to forget.

+++

Sequel: If Buffy Wants. (Buffy/Giles, NC-17, warnings for S/m)