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Tales from the barman... Part II

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This story is No. 2 in the series "Tales from the barman...". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: Simple premise for anyone to join... Xander has opened his own bar, club by the name of 'Nights', anyway he's the barman there and 'collects' stories off his customers, multiple crossings allowed. Dig in people.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > Xander-Centered
Multiple Crossings > Faith-Centered
(Past Donor)Methos + 59 othersFR1596129,42327423403,7549 Aug 0914 Dec 14No

NOTE: This chapter is rated FR18

We're All Stars Now by TheGuru

Six A.M., Christmas morning. Soon, Nights would be busy, in one of the most depressing but money-making days of the year. All the lonely and thrown away debris of both humanity and everything else would wonder in and get drunk out of their minds, trying to forget the fact that they were drinking away their depression on Christmas day. Xander, meanwhile, was chef-less, and was due to host the old Scoobies later on this evening. Groggily, Xander bumped into his ever-growing wall and just barely caught a KISS lunchbox with rather head-shaped dents in it. Confused, but figuring that Faith must have acquired it last time he was out, he placed it back on the shelf and shuffled his feet into the kitchen, where, amazingly, Faith was already busy.

"Already cooking for tonight?" He mumbled, squinting in the light.

"Yeah. After all, B alone could eat several of these things." She said, gesturing to one of the hams, which were wrapped in plastic, and laughing. "Truly meat for a queen."

"Okay. I'm just gonna..." Xander said, trailing off and leaving. A few minutes later, he returned, dressed for the day and sipping a soda. He began to get ready for the day, cleaning and polishing everything in sight and then making sure all the wards were functional and nothing had been sabotaged overnight. After finishing, he got behind the counter and began to think to himself. Despite now being in his early thirties, he had aged well, and still looked like a man in his mid-20s. He prayed that it didn't all hit him in a decade at once, knowing that the Powers That Be ran quite the cruel world. Of course, Buffy and Faith still looked pretty much the same as they had did when Sunnydale was destroyed, thanks to their Slayeryness, and Willow hadn't aged as fast due to just the sheer amount of magic she had already used. As it turned out, harnessing timeless powers that much, and at that level, made you a bit more ignored by time. Giles, on the other hand, certainly looked a whole lot older than back when that photo of him in that musical was taken, although only looked about six or seven years older due to the amount of power he too had used in the past.

Xander wondered, would they all eventually leave the Slayers, unable to keep up with their reduced aging? Or would they instead find a way to keep them all going, unimpeded by time? He put the thoughts out of his head, vowing not to let the depressing flow of business get to him. Before he could continue to prepare, however, he felt the all too familiar tingle at the back of his skull, followed by the no so familiar sound of someone collapsing into the door, just barely opening it, and proceeding to become acquainted with the floor. The following sounds of puking were, however, more familiar, and so, Xander flipped the oddly pale stranger over onto their side and yelled to Faith to get the mop and water.

Looking back at his newest visitor, he noticed three things. Whoever this person was, they were not human. If the wards hadn't told him, the features of the person would have. Secondly, he had no idea if it was a man or a woman. Thirdly, whoever it was was naked, but had no genitalia or nipples. All in all, he had no idea what was going on.

Faith walked out, carrying the vomit cleanup gear, and put it down next to him, before crouching down. "Huh. Someone who's fictional in our universe. That's rare." She said, confusing Xander. The stranger had red hair, but the roots were black, and had grown back somewhat. Still, Xander couldn't place the stranger's origin.

"Guy's called Omēga. Main character of a concept album." She said, inspecting the scars, both needle and razor, on Omēga's arms. Some were fresh.

"Seriously? Who's album?" Xander said. Something about the stranger's face seemed familiar, but he couldn't place it. All he could remember was some idiotic alarmist news programs from when he lived in Sunnydale, which had the man's face in the picture thing next to the newscasters' heads.

"Really? Come on, you were in high school in the 90s and you can't remember? Just how many concussions have you suffered?" Faith said, teasing him.

"Faith, it's too early in the morning. Just tell me."

"Dude's from a Marilyn Manson album, Mechanical Animals." She said, tapping him on the back of the head. He was gonna have to stop her from hanging out with that NCIS guy if she kept doing that.

"Well... fuck." Xander said. "Normally I'd wait for the person themselves to tell me, but, well, he's currently too busy overdosing on, well, looking at his nose and arms and," Xander said, opening Omēga's mouth, "tongue and smelling his breath, I'd say, approximately all the drugs. However, seeing as I have no idea how he anything in him works, I can't do much. So, who is this guy?" For the first time, he noticed Omēga's limbs seemed longer than expected, and the guy was maybe ninety pounds, if he was soaking wet. When the puking had stopped, Xander carried him upstairs to a couch and put him on it before covering him up with a blanket. If Omēga complained about being left nude, he would not care.

"So, as I said, who is this guy?" Xander said, turning to Faith.

"Long story short, he's a space alien enslaved by record producers to be a rock star with songs that are made to make people mindless party animals. Not that anyone notices that part when listening to those songs in real life." She said, sounding a bit irritated.

"Okay then." Xander said. "That doesn't explain why he's got nothing down there and breasts up top."

"Well, he's a giant Ziggy Stardust reference, just taking it up to eleven. Hence, androgynous." She said, Xander finally understanding.

"So, any idea what to do?"

"Just let him detox. I'm sure he'll be fine."

And so, they continued with their day, which otherwise went without a problem. After everyone left, Faith and Xander shuffled up the stairs and checked on their rock star guest, who was still sleeping off all the drugs in his system, but alive. They went their separate ways into bed and woke up the next day, their guest still asleep. This continued for several days, until one afternoon, Faith went into her room to grab her wallet, only to find Omēga stealing her clothing. Her first reaction was irritation, but she held it back, just because, well, he did just wake up in a strange place after days of sleep. She noticed his left eye color was red, with it right up against the pupil and the right eye having a ring of white in-between the red and black. "So, I guess you're wondering where you are." She said, as Omēga ignored her presence and proceeded to put on one of her bras and then a blood-red tanktop.

"Yes." He replied, a sort of unnerving voice that sounded much like Marilyn Manson, but if Marilyn Manson's voice carried no emotions at all.

"You fell through an extra-dimensional portal in a bar, Nights. I'm the co-owner, along with Xander." She said, extending her hand. Omēga ignored her and took one of her g-strings and slipped it on before tossing on a tanktop-matching pair of leather pants. He kneeled down and searched through her shoes, and looked disappointed at everything there. "Platforms?" He asked.

Faith muttered under her breath, irritated at the alien's attitude, but not at all surprised. "Nope. Sorry." He stole a pair of her socks and walked out of the room and down into the bar proper. He sat down at the bar and looked to Xander.

"Oh, looks like you're finally awake. And stealing other peoples' clothes while you're at it. So, how are you feeling?" Xander asked, amused by Faith's irritated expression and just the audacity of someone going into a Slayer's room and stealing their clothing without being their little sister.

"Fine. Got any whiskey?" Omēga asked.

"Wait a minute. You just woke up from a multi-day coma and your first reaction is to drink?" Xander had seen addiction before, but this made his parents look like members of the Temperance movement.

"I woke up, didn't I?" Omēga said, his voice angry, but with a touch of sadness below it.

"So? What, you trying not to wake up?" Xander asked, before seeing Faith facepalm from behind Omēga. "Oh."

"Now then, whiskey. And I'm sure you don't have any speed on hand." Omēga said.

"Nope. Sorry, we're a perfectly legitimate multi-dimensional crossroad-slash-bar." Xander said, poring the alien the weakest stuff he had. He handed it to Omēga and the alcoholic star reached into his pockets only to realize he had no money. Xander noticed this and took it upon himself to help. "Say, we have a tradition here. Tell your story and give us something to remember you by, and you drink free."

"Okay." Omēga said, and told him about his life before crashing to Earth, his enslavement, his turn to drugs, the one known as Alpha, and the woman known as Coma White. Suddenly, he walked through the portal, but returned several minutes later, carrying a black flag with a stylized depiction of his face inside of an omega. Xander pinned it up and turned to Omēga to thank him, which caused the alien to smile slightly. It was the first sign of happiness he had seen on the man since they met. "And do me a favor, Omēga, try not to knock yourself into another coma."

The rock star nodded his head and left. A person walked up to the jukebox and put in a coin before choosing a song. A song from Omēga's universe, from the concept album that birthed his reality into existence. Xander heard it begin and smiled.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Omega and the Mechanical Animals."

Buffy The Vampire Slayer doesn't belong to me. Marilyn Manson, no matter how much I wish otherwise, does not belong to me, nor does Omēga or the album he's from. None of the songs referenced belong to me. Twiggy Ramirez, also no matter how much I wish otherwise, does not belong to me. David Bowie/Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars do not belong to me. Seeing as Omēga is supposed to be emotionless due to his brain being so drug-addled to deal with his life, I figured, he should be as unfeeling as possible. I have no idea if it worked, that's up to you guys. As far as I know, this might be the first concept album crossover fanfiction ever, or at least, for the Buffy fandom.
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