Standard Disclaimer: I don’t own anything from the Buffyverse, or from the DCU. This incarnation is an amalgamation of Comic, Cartoon series, and personal tweaks… The continuity makes as much sense as any that DC has provided… and it may be canon after the next Retcon.
Xander Harris was walking back from his hotel room from the pub. He had a drink there; he would be the first to admit that fact. He didn’t drink much, or often. He deserved this drink. He nodded to himself when he thought of the reason. Less than a week ago was the anniversary of him losing his eye. Today was the anniversary of the destruction of Sunnydale, and the Hellmouth under it. That also marked the death of his one time fiancée, and a couple of the potentials, or slayers depending on when they fell. They were right at the one year mark of the official beginnings of the Reformed Council of Watchers.
All those would have been valid reasons of drinking. No one would fault anyone for drinking if they had been involved in any of those situations. Unfortunately Xander Harris couldn’t rationalize that was why he had stepped away from his hotel room and down the three blocks to the pub. No, the real reason was because of tomorrow. He had to be ‘Official’.
He could do official. Officially, he was head of field operations of the council. He was Big Brother to multiple squads of slayers and their field watchers. He was eyes and ears, and sometimes brains when it came to slayers in combat. Officially, he was the head watcher over the Slayer Prime or the Buffinator as he liked to call her. He wasn’t the one that poured over ancient tomes and pondered the different dialects of whatever language they were written in, oh no, he had staff for that. He told them what he wanted, and they delivered, sometimes. When they didn’t he was in charge of helping Buffy improvise a solution. Most of the time it was hit it again, and this time harder, or go for the eyes, everything has eyes.
Official with in the smaller case wasn’t a problem. It was in the upper case that caused him to have a drink tonight, and then another drink, and then an aperitif afterwards. That led to a slightly buzzed Xander Harris walking back to his hotel room before a meeting as the Official representative of the Reformed Council of Watchers to the Justice League.
There were times that his empty socket bothered him. When it bothered him, it was anywhere from an itchy sensation to a stabbing pain. All of the doctors that he had been sent to said that it was a psychosomatic response to subconscious stimuli. The mystics and witch types that he had visited gave even wilder answers. The one that he had settled on was that it was a type of danger sense on when he was going to do something stupid. Like in the next few seconds…
He stopped to rub the palm of his hand onto the patch to scratch the itch that had appeared a few minutes before hand. Subconsciously his right hand slid behind him and felt the wooden stake at the small of his back. He sighed and continued on towards his hotel when he heard the beginning sounds of a struggle.
He knew that he was in Metropolis, and not Sunnydale. He knew that the likelihood of the assailants being vampires was nil. He knew that his luck wouldn’t let it be anything but. His faith in his luck held, for there were three sets of golden eyes and forehead ridges in the alley. There was also a blond blue eyed woman in a position that Xander would have criticized on a newbie slayer.
The old Harris luck is one of the strongest forces in the universe, not that Xander could do anything about this. He would probably hear about refusing to go with at least one slayer with him for three months. But there was not else to do but hope that the leeches in the alley were fledglings. That and some member of the ‘Spandex Fashion Disaster Club’ as Buffy had named them swooped in.
“Hey, I’m from out of town, and I was wondering if you could help me?” Xander said in his most annoying of voices. “See, I was wondering around after having a few drinks and couldn’t help but noticing the dust in the air.”
The three vamps looked puzzled at each other until the closest one to Xander suddenly burst into a cloud of dust that was quickly spread as Xander dove through it, tackling the second. A quick one two combo to the downed vampire’s head was followed up with a stake to the heart, and a whoosh of dust. Xander scrambled up turning and realized that his advantage of surprise was used up.
This time he was the recipient of a charge, which didn’t take him to the ground, but fully into the brick wall behind him. He clutched onto the stake as hard as he could so he wouldn’t lose it. Xander knew he had to think fast to buy himself some time. More importantly to buy the woman time to run.
“Do you know who I am?”
He was rewarded with the dumb puzzled look from the vamp, “Huh, yeah, my next meal!”
“Nope, hate to break it to you, but that would be the worse thing to do. Let me tell you something. You may frighten college girls and winos, but I grew up in Sunnydale. I was there the day it went down. I stared down Angelus without a weapon or back up. I regularly mocked William the Bloody. I helped lay the smack down on Glorificus. Taking me out would be the second quickest way to make sure you are dust.”
The vampire’s grasp loosened as he started to laugh. “You almost said that convincingly. Trying to make me think you are one of the Slayers group. That is rich.” At this point the vampire let go with one hand, but the other still help him to the wall like a vice. “The only person like that is a one eyed...” He looked at Xander’s face. The vampire’s face dropped from his game face to a more human one. “Oh, shit. You are the freaking White Knight…”
He was interrupted by a voice from the head of the alley. “So, anyone here need my help?”
The vamp turned his head. This was the opening that Xander was looking for. A flick of his arm dropped a vial of holy water into his hand, which he then splashed onto the side of the vamps noggin. Xander regained his balance on the ground as the vampire thrashed about.
As the vampire recovered, so did Xander. Xander squared to the vamp, stake out front and ready for action. Not that he saw any action that he was involved in. A blue and red blur streaked in front of him as the leech lunged forward. There was the crack of a thunderous fist meeting bone as the undead entity flew backwards further into the alley. Xander noticed that the hair on the figure in front of him was long and blond and not short and black, meaning that this was Supergirl, and not Superman. This was a relief in some aspects, as he was used with dealing with super strong girls, especially blond ones, though it did seem that her hair color was all natural.
He snapped out of his ruminations as the vamp roared as it sprang up. It barely got forward momentum when Xander slipped a cross out of his inside jacket pocket and held it forth as he slipped in front of the ‘Girl of Steel’. It was almost humorous to see the demon stopping dead in its tracks at the sight of the object. Well, it would have been if Xander hadn’t seen it many, many, many times before. A quick strike from the stake and the matter was ended.
Sighing again, she put his stake back in the sheath at the small of his back and turned towards the costumed heroine. “Did you make sure the girl that ran out of here was okay?”
Xander shook his head at the shock for the member of the spandex crowd before him. “The girl that the vamps were looking to make a happy meal, did you make sure she was okay? Did you make sure that she was safe before you came to the aid of someone that could handle the situation?”
“Uh, yeah, she was fine, she was pointing towards you in here needing help,” she stuttered in response.
Xander was starting to rub his patch again. “We should find her and make sure she is okay and gets home okay. If there were three fledglings running around, there could easily be more, if not a master lurking somewhere in the city.” He looks her up and down and then squarely into her eyes. “The last thing we need is for one of you to get turned. Four times your strength, speed, not to mention your invulnerability; I shudder to think how we would have to take you down,” Xander said offhandedly as he moved past the sentinel in front of him.
Again the world played another joke on the sad sack of Xander Harris, he thought. Being around probably the largest concentration of what one would call hot females in the world stole from him what most men would envy, being that close to a paragon of womanhood that Supergirl was and her attention on you while not trying to beat you up. At the head of the alley, Xander turned to Supergirl again. “She went this way, right?” Xander questioned pointing towards the direction he was originally heading.
Supergirl nodded, and then caught up to her senses. “Wait! Where are you going? What about those three men that you killed?” she queried as she blurred and then grabbed Xander.
Xander fixed his eye on hers. “Let. Me. Go. Now. Those were not men. Well, at least not any more. Those were vampires. They were already dead. I was simply severing the connection that the demon inhabiting their bodies.”
“Right, I don’t know who you are, or what you are trying to pull, but…” she wasn’t able to finish her statement before Xander broke in.
“I am Alexander Lavelle Harris, and if you use the middle name I don’t care if you are invulnerable, I will find a way to hunt you down and make what Kr’aka’thikan parents do to their children* look like something that you can put on a PBS kiddy show. I am head of field operations for the Reformed Council of Watchers. I have been fighting vampires, demons, hell gods, ascended Old Ones for going on ten years now. In high school we had to come up with the plural for apocalypse. I have fought on my own, and I have commanded hundreds. I am the Zeppo, the one with out powers, the one forbidden to fight, but yet I still do. By my enemies, I have been called the White Knight, and The One That Sees. I am just a man with no powers, with now special training, and I am just behind the slayer in the list of what demon mothers tell their unruly children what will get them if they don’t behave.” Supergirl began to shrink like she hadn’t since Martha Kent got onto a good roll about her being out late without calling. “I am not trying to pull anything. I am part of the first, last, and only defense this planet has put up to stop this certain tide of evil. If you want to go into it, I am part of a lineage that has been fighting this war since we were in caves. If we win, then we get to fight again, and if we lose, then if we are lucky, someone else gets to pick it up, if not, then game over.”
Kara felt like a scolded child that had been caught playing adult at the wrong time. The man in front of her couldn’t have been older than twenty-five, but the mere pressure of his demeanor cowered her even more than being in a room alone with Batman. “And if this was a set up by your friends that I am meeting tomorrow, I will deal with them then.”
Xander turned and strode to his hotel. He had some calls to make.
* Kr’aka’thikan parents tend to dress up their young in clothing resembling Victorian era baby clothes. No, not much of a threat, but it does sound impressive, though if one thinks of it the results from outdoing it could be highly embarrassing.