Feeling Kind of Thor
Feeling Kind of Thor
BTVS is not mine, it is Joss Whedon’s; Stargate is still an MGM/Gekko production as far as I can currently recollect.
“How the heck did I get in this type of trouble?” Xander asked aloud in a voice, indeed a body, that wasn’t his. He looked at the console—a whole lot of memories said that’s what it was—and it showed him in the Asgard alphabet that he was in a huge automated vessel in another galaxy. In the body of a being named Thor.
Sunnydale, October 31st, 1997
“I seem to be on a human world in a state of Chaos?” the Supreme Commander of the Asgard considered. “But how my consciousness or a copy thereof has been downloaded into a body is a great mystery. Loki in all probability has restarted his prohibited experimentation.”
“Xander!” a red-haired human female called to him. His experience with the primitive human cultures has no trouble translating her words. She seemed to address him by a colloquialism meaning ‘Defender of Man.’
“Greetings. Do you know the identity of this body?” he queried, though as he did the information of one Alexander Lavelle (a holy name!) Harris flashed in his mind. Then the name of his current companion. “Ah, you are known as Willow Rosenberg?”
“Yes! You’re not Xander?”
“By title, perhaps. I am Thor, Supreme Commander of the Asgard.”
“That’s what Xander dressed as! You’re Thor? Mythical god of thunder?!”
“I have been identified as such in the past, Willow Rosenberg, but I am in fact merely of a more technologically advanced society.”
“Then how come Xander dressed as” she gestured and he noted the Cimmerian style of clothes, but also a communicator he’d once left on Loki’s vessel “and ended up as you?”
“Do you know how this transfer of consciousness has taken place?” he asked as he realized he was on the Tauri Homeworld in the Home Galaxy of the Ancients. “And as the only item I recognize as actually having been mine is this communicator, where might Alexander have found this?”
“Oh! We got it at a place called Ethan’s!” she exclaimed as they walked in the direction in which a young woman screamed. His mind accessed “Ethan’s” as a place to which he would need go after assisting the screaming female human. They hurried closer, and he clamped his communicator onto the haft of the very large war hammer he’d unstrapped from his back. As he waved it at her attackers in a threatening manner, the communicator lighted the hammer, causing a superstitious reaction and flight of the hostiles.
“Oh thank you, warrior,” the girl blushed. She was dressed in a style many very backwards cultures tended toward. “Can you help me to a place of safety?”
“Willow Rosenberg: please help the young woman to Mr. Giles. I must investigate the commercial enterprise known as Ethan’s to determine a way Alexander and myself might be restored, along with your fellow humans.”
It had taken fifteen minutes to sort through Thor’s memories and redirect the ship at top speed to Earth. Xander was rather panicked, and had accessed pharmaceuticals to both calm him in his current form, and to promote memory recollection. He certainly did not desire an accident like flying the huge vessel into the Hellmouth.
Finding a large cloudbank, and activating full detection countermeasures, the now-taller-Asgard body of Xander Harris began operating the sensors, adjusting for the Hellmouth ‘rift’ energy and trying to find his own body. He continued to consume high levels of nutrients, but it became rather distracting so he beamed up a case of Twinkies and found that Thor’s tastes enjoyed them as much as his normal body did.
Afoot in a strange place, and seeking to avoid confrontation whenever possible, Thor reached the costume store at the same time as Giles in his little internal combustion vehicle.
“Greetings Librarian Giles.”
“Yes, I am Supreme Commander Thor of the Asgard High Command. I believe this is the center of the reality distortion.”
“Yes, um. It could be dangerous,” Giles pointed out. “Perhaps as I am the resident, I should enter first?”
The two entered the building, Thor feeling ‘something’ from the back room. He tuned out the verbal confrontation between Ethan and Giles, simply wandering in back and staring at the bust, which seemed to actively draw power from subspace, and radiate it outwards.
Xander eventually located himself by detecting Giles’ car on the move. He watched as ‘he’ followed the older man into the building, and how he seemed to approach the source of distortion.
Xander decided to attempt using the transporters to relocate the energy source in the costume shop, as well as those with him. But everything went blank with agonizing pain as he did. He hoped that his automated instructions to the ship would be followed.
Giles was delayed several microseconds in kicking Ethan right in the privates as they and ‘Thor’ beamed up to the space ship. Ethan screamed and passed out from the kick, but Giles was surprised to see Xander’s body and that of a Roswell Gray style of alien both scream and collapse in unison before again disappearing in lights.
A voice came from around him.
“Giles, Rupert. Automatic Protocols in place. Your orders.”
“Alright, then. Take us home.”
After a minute in which he used Ethan’s shirt to secure the Chaos Mage, he noted they were still on the ship.
“Um, I thought we were going home?”
“Currently returning to Asgard Homeworld as directed.”
“Oh dear. Um, could you take me to where Xander, the other human beamed with me on the ship, is?”
“Please beam me there.”
Giles found himself in a very advanced infirmary in which the alien and Xander were both encased in a pair of capsules.
“Computer, what is going on with them?”
“They experienced mutual damage and DNA transfer during consciousness transference of unknown type. They are currently being stabilized.”
“How long will they be in there?”
“Five Earth hours.”
“But they’ll be alright?”
“As currently projected.”
“In that case, please return us to our, um, Earth position and we’ll wait there.”
November 1st, 1997 – 6 AM
Buffy and Willow awoke to the sound of an Asgard transporter beaming their two friends down to the library.
“We’re okay,” Giles assured them. “We were on a bit of a detour after dealing with Ethan Rayne. But we’re back. Is everyone alright?”
“Yeah, Giles,” Buffy assured the stuffy Brit who’d flinched from a Buffy hug as it had a little of Slayer strength in it. She was surprised, as was Willow, when they hugged Xander. “Xander? When did you become muscle guy?”
“Um, after affect of the whole craziness, Buffy,” he told her truthfully but without revealing Thor and the Asgard—he and Giles had promised to try not letting the secret out. “Bit stronger, bit smarter, but still me.”
“Oh, okay…” she smiled as they let things get back to ‘normal.’
The now-five-foot-tall-in-the-form-of-Asgard-fifteen-thousand-years-ago Supreme Commander Thor headed back to his world, beaming Ethan down near the summit of Kilimanjaro to keep the other humans from exacting a just vengeance. Reaching over to his console, his eyes landed on a large box of golden snack cakes.
“For more reasons than one, I’ll have to return to Earth.”