only the plot belongs to me, sad I know.
No one had known what to expect from the amulet Angel had given Buffy. A variety of scenarios had run through their heads but none of them had even come close to what had actually happened. The Hellmouth had exploded in a rush of mystical energy, blowing a hole the size of Los Angeles into the ground where Sunnydale had stood and flinging the Scoobies and mini Slayers through space and time, scattering them throughout the dimensions with no way to get back home. Which was how, one year later, Xander came to be standing in Jean-Claude's living room, wondering why the Master of the City had summoned them and searching the crowd of visiting vamps and shifters for the white-blonde head of his own vampire; the only face from home to have landed in the same world.
Xander felt a thrill go through him when he spotted Spike weaving through the crowd, wondering, not for the first time, what his friends would think of his relationship with the vampire. Yes, relationship. Over the past year they had become allies, friends, and eventually lovers, though Xander balked a bit at the term. Sure, his feelings toward the bleached menace weren't all of the hate, stake, kill mantra anymore but he was definitely almost certain that none of them were of the lovey variety. And yes, Egypt was a nice piece of real estate no matter which reality he happened to be in. Spike startled him out of his thoughts by wrapping strong arms around his waist and resting his chin on the taller mans shoulder.
"What are you thinking on so hard, pet?"
"Just wondering why JC wanted us here so bad."
"You," Spike replied.
"He wanted you here, not us."
Xander turned to face Spike.
"Dunno," Spike shrugged. "But I think it has something to do with the Master of Cape Cod."
"Isn't he the one who brought his sons for Anita's pommes de sang?"
The vampire nodded.
"I think there's more to it though. Word is, he can call mer-people."
Xander looked at him, wide eyed. His life had never really been normal since meeting Buffy but after coming to this new world Xander had set some new personal records. Thanks to his run in with the hyena primal, his adventures with the swim team, and the weird metaphysics of this world, Xander was no longer completely human. The first time he'd taken a shower he'd cracked his head open when his legs had suddenly fused together and turned into a scaled tail and fins had grown on his forearms and along his spine then on the first full moon he'd sprouted fur and turned into a hyena in the middle of Anita's kitchen. He had his eye back though it had been no picnic when Narcissus had used a claw to open the empty socket.
"You don't think that he wants to take me with him, do you?"
He didn't think that Jean-Claude would make him leave if he didn't want to. JC was very good about not forcing his people to do anything they didn't want to and Xander was happy with his life as one of the vampires' people. Being one of the few mer-people in the Midwest made him a star attraction at the Circus and a bit of a novelty among the other shifters at Guilty Pleasures where he occasionally filled in if one of the other dancers called in sick. He'd never admitted it to Willow or Buffy but he had kind of liked filling in for the dancers on his ill-fated cross-country trip. Spike had quite the GP fan base as well and had convinced Xander share the stage with him once. Reflecting back Xander realized that that dance had been the turning point in their relationship.
Spike growled in response to his question.
"He'll have me to go through if he does."
"What has the two of you looking so grave, mes amis?" Jean-Claude's liquid velvet voice washed over them.
Xander shrugged but Spike spoke up.
"What exactly does this Cape Cod Master want with Xan?" he demanded.
"Certainly not to take him away, if that is what you were thinking. He wishes merely to ask a favor."
Xander and Spike shared a look.
"What kind of favor?" Xander asked.
Several moments later found them in front of Samuel, the Master of the City of Cape Cod, and his wife, Leucothea or Thea. The mermaid was a very beautiful woman, nearly six feet tall with pale skin and hair. A circlet of silver rested on her white-blonde head, three pearls set into it with tiny diamonds surrounding them. Her eyes were black, marking her as other. Xander had seen his own eyes take on that color, usually when he went all fishy but sometimes when his emotions ran high they changed from his normal brown to that black or the grey green of his hyena. Those black eyes studied Xander more intensely than he liked.
"Alexander," Thea said, circling him. "I have heard many things about you."
"Well, uh, don't believe everything you hear," Xander said nervously. She was reminding him uncomfortably of a shark.
"But I would very much like to believe this of you."
"Believe what?" he asked, fighting the urge to hide behind Spike.
"That you are what I seek," Thea breathed, stepping close.
"And what's that?"
"What I am. A siren," she whispered, then leaned in and kissed him.
Demon magnet Xander Harris strikes again.