Disclaimer: Don't own or claim rights to Buffy or Bones
A/N: I haven't seen a lot of Bones, but I have seen some. This is set … sometime … for Bones, and post-Chosen for Buffy. ~~~~~
Seeley turned to watch as Bones suddenly grinned and raced out of the pod to meet up with a tall, dark-haired man.
“Xander,” she greeted, grinning. “When did you get back to DC?”
“Yesterday,” the man grinned as he swung the anthropologist around. Setting her down, he continued. “I had a few things to do, still have, but thought I'd bring you a present.” With a flourish, he picked up a box, and presented it to her.
“Xander,” Bones murmured, awed. “Where did you get this?”
“I liberated it from the archives. I figured it would be better off in your hands than ours. It has absolutely nothing to do with anything we do, so, well, there you go.”
“This is amazing. Pre-Colombian Mayan,” she mumbled, citing the mask's heritage and uses.
“So,” Seeley said as he walked up to the pair, “since no one else's making introductions, I figured I might as well. Seeley Booth,” he announced, holding out his hand.
The other man simply gaped at him for a moment, as if star-struck. “Whoa,” he muttered, then shook his head. “Let me guess, Irish Catholic background?” he asked as he shook Seeley's hand. “Name's Xander Harris.”
“Yeah. How did you guess?”
Xander laughed. “You look unbelievably like someone I know from the Old Country. Still has a thing for crosses,” he smirked.
“Right. And so you just assumed?”
“So,” he tapped his eye, “what happened?”
“You know what your mom says about running with scissors? Yeah.”
Booth frowned, pretty sure that wasn't the truth. “Where did you meet Bones?”
“Who? Oh, Tempe? Zimbabwe, on a dig.”
“He was incredible,” Bones added. “Bandits struck the camp just after sunset, and Xander and his people arrived about the same time, but we still lost some people. They must have had animals with them, though I've never figured out what kind they were. The bite marks were weird,” she shook her head. She looked at Seeley. “He likes guns just as much as you do,” she added.
Xander rolled his eyes. “I was in Africa, of course I liked guns. Still do,” he added.
“They're lethal weapons,” Bones shook her head.
“Kind of the point. Besides which, you know as well as I do that just about anything can be used to kill. Not to mention, I hear you have something of a gun fetish now, too.”
“It's not a fetish. I derive no sexual satisfaction from weaponry.”
Xander gave a shout of laughter at that. “Gods. You would have loved Anya. Never one for shying away from conversations about sex.”
“So you're, what, an anthropologist?” Booth asked.
“Me?” Xander replied, surprised. “No. I work for an NGO out of the UK, doing this and that. No formal qualifications, but I've been studying mythology and stuff since high school.”
“This and that being what?”
Xander looked at Bones, eyebrow raised.
“He works for the FBI,” she explained.
“Ah,” Xander murmured. “Okay. Nothing illegal, I have a diplomatic passport that works in most countries, and the State Department and a few other places know who I am, and what I do. Enough for you?” he asked, smirking.
“So if I were to go to my boss and ask about Xander Harris, what would happen?”
“Depends on your level of clearance, I guess. And how much you piss me off. You might get a glimpse at my file, or you might be told to fuck off. Either way, I doubt you'd learn much.”
“So Africa was...?”
“Apart from none of your business? I was actually there for an artefact, but we got word that about the attack. We had planned to get there before sunset, but, well, shit happens. So we did what we could, helped Tempe's people get back to civilisation, and headed home, artefact and all.” He turned to Bones. “So, lunch?”
“Sure. I don't have long, because we're in the middle of a case, but I have about an hour to spare right now. Let me just put this away, and I'll be right out.”
The two men watched the anthropologist carry box away. “You seeing her?” Xander asked once she was out of sight.
“Ah. So it's just UST.”
“We're colleagues. We work together. We have a very good working relationship.”
“Fair enough. What Tempe and I have is friendship, with casual sex when we both happen to be in the same place at the same time. I don't have the time for a proper relationship at the moment, and I'm not the one for her, anyway. Just so you know,” he added, looking the other man in the eye. He then looked Booth up and down before shaking his head, chuckling.
“What?” Seeley demanded.
“Sorry. Just trying to picture Angel with that tie and buckle. Just doesn't work. He's really got that tall, dark and broody thing going on, and they just don't work.”
“Broody?” Booth shook his head. “What's his problem?”
“Oh, the sins of hundreds of years of debauchery weighing on his shoulders, don't you know?”
Booth snorted, then tugged up his trouser leg. “How about these socks, then?” he asked, grinning.
Xander rocked back, howling with laughter. “Hells, no! You have got to tell me where to get those. Mocking Angel is one of my pet pastimes. After lunch, though,” he added, nodding to Bones, walking up, jacket and bag in hand. “You're not too bad,” Xander decided. “Later.” With the, he hooked his arm through Bones' and walked her out of the Jeffersonian.