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Summary: A collection of ficlets and miscellaneous works centring around Xander.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > Xander-Centered > Ficlet CollectionsMidknightJFR153027,215112763,79526 Nov 0823 Oct 10No

(BtVS/DCU) Brave New World

Disclaimer: I'm poor. I own nothing.

Notes: A little ficlet that came to me when I was reading the DC mini 'Salvation

Brave New World

This has not been my greatest day ever. Hell, it hasn’t even been my greatest month ever. The hits just keep on coming day after day after day.

I knew the government considered the ‘Slayer Army’ terrorists, and I knew, as one of the New Watcher’s Council’s leaders, I was high on their watch list. I even knew they would try something against us someday, or at least a faction would.

This, well this I never saw coming.

Still haven’t figured out how they knew I was in Cleveland; teleportation doesn’t exactly stamp a passport. I guess it doesn’t really matter in the end. We did our job.

The demons were dead, the world was saved, the warehouse was… in need of a good scrubbing but nobody told me those demons exploded! Still, the important thing is that my girls are safe.

I was the only one left in the warehouse when the Suicide Squad showed up. Even if they saw anything my Slayers know better than to interfere. Not as unprepared and worn out from battle as they were. Better to get reinforcements and do the whole magical tracking thing.

Not that it was likely doing them any good.

Checkmate was just shipping criminals they deemed ‘too dangerous’ off to some distant planet with little more than the clothes on our backs. No trial, no due process, no lawyer, no rights. And once we got where we were going; no fast food, no television, no bathrooms, no signs of civilization at all. An untouched world we were just left to survive on.

They let me keep my axe though, so at least that’s something. Of course, they also said the world was safe too. They lied. What a shocker.

It wasn’t long until the monsters came, sometimes alone but more often than not in packs. Fortunately, I have some experience with monsters.

The super-villains around me fought well, if not together, but it was clear most weren’t used to fighting monsters, heroes, yes, but not monsters.

Still, most managed to survive and band together. Not out of any real desire to do so, but for the simple drive to survive. They say there’s ‘safety in numbers’ for a reason. That doesn’t mean everything goes smoothly. That would be too easy.

With a group like this it’s only natural that ego comes into play, tempers flare, and paranoia abounds. I don’t belong here and some of them sense that. I dissuade that notion by being the biggest badass that I can. The eye patch and bloodstained battle-axe help with the image.

I’ve never had the same clear cut, black and white view of things as Buffy. Humans are good; demons are evil. Soul equals good; no soul equals evil. I can’t help but see the shades of grey in there too. A human with a soul can commit greater atrocities than a demon without one. Many of the people I’m trapped here with are case in point.

The things some of these people have done… well, I watch the news reports, read it in the papers, and even see the intelligence reports these days. I won’t lose a single night's sleep. Buffy, bless her soul, couldn’t take a human life and I respect that. Hell, I admire that in her. I’m not Buffy though. I’ll do what I have to do to survive.

Apparently not everyone here has great survival instincts though.

A crowd has gathered around that psychic guy who ‘cleverly’ calls himself Psimon. He’s going on and on about making a life here and building the perfect society. Nobodies really buying it, but we have nothing better to do so let’s gawk at the moron.

I watch as anyone with half an ounce of self-preservation takes a few steps away from the female villains when Psimon gets to the part about essentially using them as breeding stock. You’d think a super smart, telepathic guy would know better. After all, if there is one thing I’ve learned it’s that the female of the species is by far the most dangerous.

It was probably better for Psimon that Joker chose that moment to hop onto the boulder he was using as a makeshift stage and proceeds to bludgeon his partially exposed brain with a rock. Less painful than if the ladies had got a hold of him.

Joker smashes the rock into Psimon’s face long after the point of death, raving the entire time.

Lose the idiots, losers, dreamers, wishful thinkers, and happy huggers. They’ll only drag us down.

People are actually starting to cheer him on and I cringe. Let’s put the completely insane guy in charge, ‘cause that will work out sooooo well.

Finally, Joker stands and turns to face us; whatever colour the rock he’s holding started out as it’s red now. “Any questions?”

There is no cheering now and everyone just kinda looks at him in silence. A wet splat breaks the silence and Joker stumbles. He looks down with wide eyes at the axe firmly embedded in his chest. “That’s just not funny. Not funny at all.”

It is almost comical though, the way he falls on his back virtually straight as a board.

I calmly jump up onto the boulder and retch my axe free before turning back to the crowd. “I hate clowns,” I growl at them.

More than a few of them raise their hands up and back away. Others nod a grudging respect my direction. I ignore both as I hop down.

Without a word of protest the worst villains the world has to offer part as I walk by.
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