As I am currently consumed with Ponies, Pony Fanfiction and Pony Ideas for same, I am unable to find the inspiration or time to work on any of my current WIP epics. Mostly because I can't really concentrate on Xander-Centric adventures in Buffy-Verse or wherever while I'm working on family friendly fluff in Ponyville.
That being said, here's a little one-shot to tide you all over until I shake myself loose of the hoovey grip my muse has on me.Disclaimer: Xander Harris is the property of Joss Whedon and others, the character from BtVS appears in this bit of Fanfiction without intent of profiting from same. The author makes no claims of a contradictory nature as to the ownership of said character, or Glorificus. And although technically a opening scene to a potential crossover this story is not a crossover with characters mentioned in this one-shot as they do not physically appear thus it doesn't count according to the laws/rules of fanfictions. I think.
Xander unlocked his apartment door and walked inside without pausing to consider what he was planning on doing. Everyone was on edge since the bitch had come to town, they were all trying hard to find a way for them to deal with the problem and protect Dawn in the bargain. But they weren’t thinking clearly enough, everyone was stuck on the fact that since this Glory person was a Hell-Goddess it was up to them to stop her.
Somehow a group of average, ordinary humans with a bit of mystic knowledge was supposed to stand up against a Goddess. Call him a traitor if they must, but since when did fighting the good fight mean that you were supposed to just push on and try to kill something that was ten times faster and stronger than you, probably more?
Anya wasn’t home yet, so he’d only get one shot at this. With well practiced ease his fingers danced over the keypad on his phone, dialing a number he’d memorized by heart and had used on more than one occasion for someone to just talk to when his parents were arguing. Or worse getting physical.
The number was toll free so he didn’t have to worry about any outrageous bills, the only thing Xander had to worry about was whether or not it was even still in use. He needn’t have worried.
“Hello, Stars and Stripes Hotline, how may we help you today?”
Xander smiled. Though he didn’t recognize the voice on the other end, the words were familiar and had a calming effect on his troubled mind. “Hey, report in from Sunnydale for Cap and his pals. We’ve got a bit of a Hell-Goddess situation on the Hellmouth at the moment and we’re kind of stuck in a rut. We could use some big league names to take down the bitch,” he explained as blunt and straightforward as possible. He had no idea what kind of reaction he was going to get, but he didn’t expect the person on the other end to let out a very relieved sigh.
“It’s about damn time.”
Blinking in confusion Xander frowned. “You believe me? No questions, no need for proof, stuff like that?”
Laughing the woman on the other end made Xander feel ten times better about this call than he’d been five minutes ago. “If you think the Avengers don’t know when someone with that kind of power shows up you’ve got to be slower than Quicksilver,” she said with a gentle smile implied in her tone. “The boys up top have this thing though, unless the locals ask for help, they aren’t going to step in and take over a situation. Thank God at least one of you has some common sense.”
Xander grinned. “That’s me alright, mister common sense, uh… Who is this?”
“Not important yet, call us again sometime and maybe I’ll give you my private number, a Quinjet is enroute.”
Xander shook his head. “Fast, well I guess I owe you a grateful word, so thanks for believing me and being so fast to respond. I’m capable of doing a lot of crazy things on a nightly basis, but taking on a Goddess from some hell dimension isn’t entirely in my repertoire.”
The woman on the other end nodded. “Completely understandable, good luck Mister Harris.”
Xander smiled. “Sure and… Wait a minute, I didn’t even tell you who I was so how did you?” Xander trailed off as the woman on the other end hung up leaving him with questions he couldn’t begin to find the answers to.
With a heavy sigh he hung up the receiver and moved over to the fridge, reaching in he pulled out a beer and with years of practiced ease due to helping his parents with their bottles when they were too drunk to open anymore; he got the lid open and chugged it down. Half the bottle was gone in less than a minute. “Something tells me I’m going to be getting a little bit in over my head when those Avengers show up.” The End