Disclaimer: Don't own or claim rights to Buffy or Simpsons.
A/N: Just trying to clear out my WIP file. Now to get to some of the other stuff out of the way.~~~~~
Xander looked at the table-top. 'Clear space,' he decided, 'then commence the banging of the head.'
“Don't have a cow, man,” the tow-headed tyke opposite him recommended cheerfully.
“Oh. My. God,” the man ground out. “What the hell were the Council thinking?”
Xander knew exactly what the Council had been thinking. They had decided that, since Xander was fluent not only in SoCal-speak, but also Scooby-speak, he would naturally be tolerant of such a rampantly chaotic child. How his use of language led them to think that, he didn't know, but there it was. Of course it could just be that many saw him
as that child...
“I know what you are,” Xander decided. “It's the only possible explanation. I know parents often say their children are little devils, but you really are a demon, aren't you? It's the only explanation. You're yellow. You're not just jaundiced, you are actually yellow. Your hair – which is exactly the same colour as your skin, and what's with that? – isn't just gelled up, it is perfectly spiky. And... Just... You!”
“I didn't do it, nobody saw me do it, there's no way you can prove anything!”
“Uh huh. Right. So I'm thinking you're actually a demon servant of Janus. Would that be correct?”
“Ah... No comment?”
“Shouldn't that be a statement, not a question?”
“Yeah, too late. Okay, here's the deal. You confine your … influence … to Springfield, and I don't send a Slayer to … fix things. Okay? Okay.”
“Slayer? Aren't they all ...”
Xander watches, disturbed, as the boy trailed off into gibberish and drool. “Ah, yeah, but they'll also turn you into so much Bart-sushi without any problems, so I probably would concentrate on that part of the equation. Especially if they see you doing that. Ew.”
“Oh, yeah. They're big with the sharp and shiny.”
“They wouldn't hurt me. I'm just a little boy,” he countered, somehow fluttering his eyelashes.
“You're a demon, you're incredibly annoying, and, yes, they so very would slay you. With relish. And really sharp swords.”
The boy gulped. “So, uh, Springfield, huh?”
“Yeah. We might be able to include Shelbyville, if you're lucky.”
“Cool. Those Shelbyville kids are schmucks.”
“Yeah, whatever. That's not confirmed at this point. So, you, the demon, stick to Springfield, and try not to end the world, okay?
The boy demon sighed. “Yeah, okay, whatever.”
“Yeah, I promise.”
“Okay, let's try that again, with both hands in full view.”
The boy scowled, but complied.
“Okay, and to top it off, you mess up, and I'm sending in not just a slayer, but THE Slayer, and she remembers having a sister your age, so there will be no mercy. Just lots of shiny sharp swords. Got it?”
The boy's eyes widened, and he nodded. “Ay carumba!”