Disclaimer: I own none of the following characters, unless otherwise stated. I especially
don't own Xander. That honor goes to Joss Whedon and co.
A/N: It has come to my attention that I haven't really got many Xander-centric stories. So here, ficlets for all! Those of you waiting on updates on my other stuff -- I just moved back home for the summer and can barely find my phone, let alone my laptop. Add to that issues with internets and you have my life.┘┌┘┌┘┌┘┌
Character: Doc Holiday
"Well, I say young man -- you look all strung out
Xander sighed, but remained in his current position: lying across his bed with one arm at his side and the other thrown across his eyes. He didn't have to look up to know who was talking to him, the drawl was pretty distinctive.
"Was there another altercation
between you and that boy?"
"No," the young boy replied mechanically. "An 'altercation' is like a fight, right?"
"Then no -- a world
of no," he muttered as he sat up, looking over at the translucent figure perched against his battered dresser. "I wouldn't call it an 'altercation' -- Larry had me down on the ground with just one punch. Pretty sure you gotta have an actual exchange of hits for it to be considered a fight."
"You are correct, young sir. What you experienced sounds more like a slaughter
"Thanks, Doc. You always know what to say to make me feel better," Xander grumbled, returning to his earlier position. "Any chance you could gimme any pointers for next time he comes after me?" he asked half-heartedly.
"Fisticuffs is not
the way a gentleman
fights," Doc replied, almost apologetically. "I am afraid that my experience with martial force is a bit more... hmm... forceful
. Do you, by any chance, happen to have a pistol about?"
"Sure, we keep 'em in the cupboard next to the Winchester rifle and the old-school revolver," the boy snarked. In truth he wasn't sure if there were any guns in the house. He hoped
not. God knew what Tony would do if he found one after hitting the bottle.
"Never had much use for rifles, that was always Wyatt's purview."
"Never you mind." Seeing that the boy was still downtrodden, Doc heaved a world-weary sigh: "I say, boy -- if you are, by chance serious
about the learning of some actual self-defense, I suppose I could impart a few of my more basic tricks to you."
"Really?" Xander sat up, eyes brightening with excitement, "You'd do that?"
The ghost shifted a little uncomfortably, "Understand that what I would teach you would be strictly for, ah, life-or-death
sit'ations. We clear, Alexander? This is not
the sort of thing one uses in a, uh, school-yard brawl
"No, no, I get it. Really," Xander held up a hand, "scout's honor!"
Doc snorted, "You were never a scout, young man." He smirked, "Luckily, neither was I."┘┌┘┌┘┌┘┌
A/N: Like, love, loathe? Lemme know! Suggestions welcome!