2: Some thinking.
2: Some thinking.'Holy Crap! No, that's not right. Ah, that's it. Holy Fuck!'
Xander sat in the top row of the gymnaseum blindly staring ahead, as the various 'experts' continued to talk about what was to come. Or had come. Or had happened. Or would happen. Or would have happened.
Time travel hurt his brain.'Okay, it's 1631. What do I know about 1631? Well, let's see. It's before the Billy Idol-wannabe. Drusilla hasn't been turned. Hey, even the amazing forehead-boy hasn't been born! What about the Master? Is he - yeah, he's still out there somewhere. I think he's in America -ah, I guess they call it the New World still - so, can't stop him. Yet. But, it's a place to start. Okay. Who's the slayer now? No clue. Hey, are the Watchers even in England yet? If not, where are they? Ah, crap, am I gonna have to hunt them down?'
He paid a little more attention to the appearance of the old guy, but didn't have time to do more than stand, before it was being taken care of. 'Sheesh. I got a C- in history, and even I know that closing your borders doesn't work. Does the USSR ring a bell? Idiot.'
Okay, seemed this 'Mike' guy knew what he was talking about. 'Oh, yeah. That's it. Give me your poor -'
"All Right!" Xander's voice was lost in the roars of approval from the audience.
Once they moved on to government, he pretty much lost track of things. He was a visitor, and they were a closed community for the most part. He had no idea who the various people were, what they did, nothing. So, he went back into his head.'If I kill the Master, I stop the prophecy, and he won't kill Buffy. Or, will somone else take his place? Wasn't there another one, uh, Derra, Darla, no, Derba! That's it. So, is she, wait, wasn't she supposed to be 400 years old? So, she would still be a minion now. Easier to take her out. In fact, most of the Order of Aurelius must be pretty young now.'
'The watchers. Can I join them? Well, gotta find them first. I gotta assume they're in England. Think Giles said they were in London, but I'm not sure. Isn't going to be easy to get there, have to-'
"Hey, man, you got somewhere to stay?"
Xander jerked out of his thoughts, and noticed the gym was mostly empty. He hadn't even noticed the meeting ending.
"Ah, no, well, my car. It's got a pretty big back seat," replied Xander.
"Ah, Hell no. Anyone that can wrap my ribs, get me to the clinic, they can stay with me. Only a couch, but it isn't too lumpy."
Xander blinked at that, then nodded. 'He looks like a jock. Wonder why he's treating me so nice?'
He had no idea how he looked to those without preconceptions of him, who didn't just see the class clown, the King of Cretins. What they saw? An active, muscular, if thin, tall young fighter.
A/N: Sorry, couldn't find my copy of the book for direct quotes, but I liked how it turned out, anyway.