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Normal Guy

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Summary: Xander Harris, a normal guy... oh really? On the infamous roadtrip, Xander doesn't just give up in Oxnard. He takes a much longer journey, finding things about his life he never really knew he'd missed.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
DC Universe > GeneralalexthegrayFR1558,713810629,86317 May 0931 May 09No


Disclaimer: Oh what cruel fate be reality! For alas, I own nothing (Especially Buffy and DC Comics).

AN: Yay for those of you who love reading so much you read history books, manuals, and author's notes for fun.

Basically this is a Xander centered fic with a RealFamily!Theme. I don't plan on having any romance beyond the established canon for both categories (that means Xander/Anya, Lois/Clark, Willow/Oz {at least in the beginning}, Bruce/Girlsss, Buffy/OhNoAngelIsGooooone, etc), and that won't have much to do with the plot if I include them at all.

Also, for those DC canon buffs out there, I am not planning on following any strict guide for our Justic-y heroes. I'm working off of piece meal knowledge from Smallville, Lois & Clark, the Superman and Batman movies, and whatever I've picked up from various other authors about the comic-y side of things, so don't expect any amazingly acurate timelines or anything.

Summary: Xander Harris, a normal guy... oh really? On the infamous roadtrip, Xander doesn't just give up in Oxnard. He makes a much longer journey, finding things about his life he never really knew he'd missed.

Normal Guy by AlexTheGray


Jessica Grey leaned heavily against her bathroom sink, and stared. She stared for more than a minute, unable to fully comprehend what she was seeing.

Two. There were two blue lines.

This couldn't be happening, she thought. Not to her. She was so young. Too young.

She swung around, brushing her bangs out of her eyes to survey her meager apartment through the open door. From the pullout couch with the busted spring and ripped cushions, to the coffee table and end tables made from a few cheap boards balanced on milk crates, and over to the poor excuse for a kitchen. There were cobwebs in nearly every corner, the floor was caked with so much grime that she wasn't sure of the original color of the linoleum, and the walls were splattered with the same 'yick'-inducing slime and darker things. The last time she'd look in the refrigerator she could swear that something had moved, jiggled in a way that not even Jell-O was supposed to.

She couldn't do this. She was too young. She was too poor. She was living in squallor, and she couldn't do it.

She'd moved out of the little apartment her parents had in Queens, practically run to the other side of the country. She was going to come to Hollywood, she'd thought. She was going to make it big, she'd thought. She was going to be a star.

Now here she was, living in a rundown apartment, not even in Los Angeles. She couldn't even find work as a waitress in LA. She'd had to move to some dinky little town up the coast, but she'd found work. Granted, it was still waitressing, but work was work. Enough so that she had been able to rent the rinky-dink one-room apartment and feed herself. Now she was going to have to feed...

God, this couldn't be happening. Her father had warned her about her choices, wagged his finger as he'd scolded her about the path she had been headed down.

But had she listened? she thought sarcastically. Nooo. Of course not. Not her, not Jessica, never her. She always had to do things her way, never listening to anybody. Always doing things alo- Oh God, she couldn't do this alone...!

But... but maybe she didn't have to.

She thought about Tony. He and his brother Rory came into the diner for lunch every day, always ordering a beer with their burgers before heading back to whatever labor-intensive work they were doing. She'd first noticed him in late spring, sweating through his undershirt, moisture glistening on his exposed shoulders and muscled arms. He hadn't given her much attention at first, but after a few afternoon of not-so-subtle flirting he'd seen fit to give her the time of day. From then on they'd been on-again, off-again and nothing in between.

Suddenly she thought about one of those abrupt off-again periods. More specifically, the one she'd deamed to occupy her anti-Tony time with. He'd been a boy from Middle of Nowhere, USA, with big hands and bigger eyes. Roaming around the country, probably his first time away from home, he had been sweet and earnest, always trying to please her. Almost always successfully.

But what could he do for her now? It was weeks ago and he had probably put five states between them already. Tony was here, he had a job, she'd known him longer. He could do things for her.

Her and the baby. She'd have to remember that; it couldn't just be about her, not if she wanted him to...


Oh God. She clutched the rim of the sink, her legs suddenly weak. Oh god, oh god, oh god...

Twenty minutes later she was back on her feat and heading out to find Tony.

After all, what could a farm boy from Nowheresville, Kansas do for anybody?

AN2: Okay, I think she came out... meaner, or more selfish, than I wanted her to. But it works. Thanks for reading; please review. ATG
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