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Notes From the Road II: the Revenge

May 2004

Since he was there anyway, they gave him the west coast run. Not that many brand new Slayers anymore, but there were still a few who hadn't been tracked down, and sometimes there was the mess that Slayers, new or otherwise, tended to leave behind them. Xander had construction contacts, still, on that end of the States, and pretty soon they weren't just e-mailing him to go pick up a girl. It was "Chloe and Dana just left San Bernardino. ...can you fix City Hall so we don't get sued? Weeviloids, with the corrosive slime. Plus Dana's, you know. Excitable."

June, 2004

The girl in Santa Cruz had red hair (real) and purple eyes. She didn't look at all like anybody he'd ever seen except for the colors, but he still stood so long in the alleyway blinking at her that she had to save him from the vamps before he even introduced himself. Her name was Sarah; she had six studs in her left ear, four in her right, collected Sex Pistols memorabilia and thought Spike, when she met him, was the ever-loving shit, quote unquote. She never quite got why Xander was more comfortable when she took her contacts out.

July 2004

The girl in Santa Carla had blonde hair, brown eyes, and a thin smile, was twenty-five, and not a Slayer. She waited tables at a diner down the street from a comic shop, knew how long it had been since the last big nest of vampires got cleaned out, and laughed so hard when he told her they'd called it scrapbooking at school that she almost fell out of bed. She hated Galaxy Quest, but loved Strifenova Celestial, both new and old. Xander promised to e-mail her when he left. He did, but they both knew he wouldn't be back.


August, 2004

You can fire a crossbow with a blind side. Not necessarily well, but he was better with a compound anyway. Not that he didn't have to re-learn that, too.

It wasn't the sighting that gave him fits; he always did shoot right-handed, and draw to that eye. He just sucked at judging distance, as Willow's cat learned when he visited in late summer. So not his fault; who the hell let it out of the apartment in the first place? Mind you this was not an argument he used with Willow. He just apologized profusely and bandaged Miss Kitty's tail.


September, 2004

He caught the Vanessa Saturn premiere at a sports bar in Cleveland, where he'd flown in to check on the Hellmouth.

Larry always cracked up when he said that. Which okay, so 'checking on the Hellmouth' had turned into a code that was only slightly less transparent than 'bookshelf building' considering that even Buffy snickered on the phone when he told her where he was going, but it wasn't like he flew halfway across the country just for, well.

The buffalo wings at the bar were pretty tasty, after all. Plus hi, there really was a Hellmouth there.

Shut up.


October, 2004

Xander knew California was making him crazy when he not only found himself in L.A again, but actually knocking on the Hyperion's door. Just. To. Say. Hi.

He had to stick around for a checkup on his eye, or he'd have begged for a job up the coast, or back to Africa, or someplace he'd never been at all. Because seriously, when you reach the point of explaining to Wesley Wyndam-Pryce that no, you'd be happy to wear the pink helmet, since the black one cuts off peripheral vision and you need all of that you can get... um, yeah.

November, 2004

Some things never changed. He still hated people poking at his eye, and Google Earth still said the only place he'd ever seen an Aaron Echolls movie not only didn't exist, but never had.

So he wasn't expecting anything but coffee and gas when he stopped in Neptune for... coffee and gas. There she was, though, by the side of the offramp, sunglasses perched on her head and staring straight past him as she walked towards the Amoco station. He didn't say hello; by the time she got back to her car, he'd already patched the flat and was gone.

December, 2004

From: purplefrog@yahoo.com
To: bridge.carson@fandomhigh.net
Date: December 6th, 2004
Subject: Happy Birthday. Really.

Haven't checked birth announcements yet; figure it wouldn't show up til tomorrow anyway, if it's there. Wonder if you'd have powers in this dimension, if there turns out to be a you? No SPD, right, so maybe no wee baby Bridge with weetiny gloveses. Or did you have gloveses when you were that weetiny? Also I'm 24. Should probably stop saying gloveses and weetiny now. Then again you're less than one day old, so if I'm allowed to say it to anybody, guess it'd be you.

love,
Xander
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