I have no idea where this little glimpse at an AU Buffyverse in Marvel Continuty came from, I'm just sharing it, as the core concept is up for adoption if you'd like. I also had this urge to vent a little as fanfiction authors often do, while re-reading some ancillary Marvel material I just got sick of the 'press' constantly blaming the New Warriors as if it was all their damn fault. Again I have no idea what that even has to do with this story, seeing as how it's completely unrelated.
One last thing, I have begun to develop CTS so I've been typing stuff in fits and spurts. That's why the next chapter of Symbiosis Mysticana hasn't been finished yet. Just typing this up is taking up my quota of typing for the day. But I felt the need to share this idea with others see if they can't do something with it that I, unfortunately, can not.Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss owns Buffyverse, Marvel Comics Corporation owns all Marvel Properties. This is a work of fanfiction borrowing characters owned by others to express disasitsfaction with a certain event... Which is about 95% of fanfictions in general. But anyway, I digress, all characters appearing belong to their respective owners. Thank you for reading this.
Xander Harris sat across from one of the most influential men on Earth, though he’d never admit to it, and quirked a brow as he examined the person. Approached eighteen months after the fall of Sunnydale he had been tasked with coming to this ‘secret’ meeting, without being allowed to inform anyone.
Xander reached down for his beverage and took a sip, some might think it was coffee, but Xander had long given that impression. For the sake of maintaining his sanity if nothing else. “So let me see if I have this straight, you’re coming to me to let me know what you’re up to because you want my organization’s assistance in mopping up a purely human threat?”
The man bit on his cigar with a bit more force than he might have intended and privately cursed when the stogie fell onto the table top. “What I want from you isn’t assistance, I just need someone out there I can trust to know what the hell is going on. HYDRA is a very real threat, a threat which has repeatedly attempted to absorb yourself and your organization into its grasp as well.”
Xander chuckled at that comment. “That’s the problem with all of you. You think you can control everything, even the stuff that was never meant to be controlled.”
“Did I already go over the fact that I hate magic?” the man asked with a bemused smirk.
“Who doesn’t?” Xander sipped at his ‘coffee’ yet again and carefully examined the room around them to make doubly sure that nothing was changed. “Alright, Nick, here’s how it goes. See, I can respect your issues; you’ve got a hell of a lot more than even we’ve had to deal with. The thing is, you don’t think, you also have this entitlement complex that makes you think you and you alone can solve all the troubles in the world. You’re never going to be rid of HYDRA, they’re far too powerful. Even with all these setbacks and crap that you’ve been getting involved with, with your so called ‘Secret Warriors’ group. The costumed community is full of egos bigger than the state of Texas, hell bigger than the entire fifty states themselves. And I’m not going to deny that our organization also has problems, we’ve got rogues, we’ve got evil to deal with, we’ve also got post traumatic stress issues and a serious case of broken brain syndrome half the time. I can freely admit this because I’ve accepted that this is just the human condition, it ain’t going to change, you can be as heroic and well intentioned as you like, but in the long run it’s going to just be ignored in favor of that one bad thing. No matter how insignificant, that you might do.”
“I didn’t come here to be lectured by a man more than half my age, Alexander,” Nick interrupted with a growl.
Xander slammed his mug onto the table and his eyes shone briefly with a sickly yellow glow. “This isn’t a lecture, Nick! This is me telling it to you straight because it’s the only way you’re going to get it, we do not have, nor have we ever required stepping foot into your world. The world of the Slayer was already messed up royally by your so called ‘Demon Research Initiative’. And on top of that we’ve got damn military forces working against us, that stupid reality program of Harmony’s didn’t help us. Hell it almost made it worse, we’ve been manipulated for a hell of a long time by the so called ‘Higher Powers’ and I am not going to let any of ‘My’ girls become involved in ‘your’ war. We already lost two of them in that botched piece of crap the press laughably calls the Stamford Incident. The Slayers have to protect this planet from the incursion of hell, it’s not up to anybody else, with possible exception to the other demon hunters out there. But they all travel in different circles and have problems of their own. Incidentally if you see Blade again tell him I owe him one.”
Nick Fury watched as Alexander Harris got to his feet and took his mug with him as he headed for the door. “What the hell made you such a hard ass? It sure wasn’t that little copycat wound you’ve got going there.”
Xander smirked briefly. “You know what they say, pops, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
Fury sighed. “Fair enough, I have to know though about something. Your team was in Stamford not more than two seconds after the explosion. What were you doing there?”
Xander frowned slightly and turned to glance back over his shoulder at the man who’d never really been there for him, but who had in a way been responsible for him. “Human tragedy is a terrible thing, the world is going to hell and I mean that quite literally. My team was there to help ease the transition of the dead, do you have any idea what level of psychokinetic force resulted from that many tragic deaths? And aside from Doc Strange, when it comes to ghosts, seriously. Who ya gonna call?”
Fury barked out a laugh of grudging respect for the piss-poor joke his son had just said. He let him go as he turned back to finish off his beer.
Outside the half-Hispanic, half-native woman ghosted up next to Xander as he started his trek back to the IWC headquarters. She touched his shoulder briefly on the left side to let him know she was there, an act of trust.
“Solve your issues?”
“Not in the slightest, Eve, but at least I managed to throw up the right kind of smokescreen.” Xander smirked.
“You’ve had years of practice dealing with him though, ever since your road trip.” Eve fingered the stake hidden on her person briefly as the sun slowly started to sink. “Do you think he suspects?”
Xander chuckled. “If Prince Namor his high and mightiest himself doesn’t suspect, what makes you think Nick ‘One-Man Crusade Against Evil’ Fury does?”
Eve nodded. “We can’t keep her forever, Xander.”
“I have no intention of doing that, I just felt it would be better to educate these New Warriors as to the error of their ways in how they go about treating their super heroics. A reality t-v program? Seriously, I still say Wolfram & Hart was behind that idea.”
Eve smirked slightly. “Does this mean I can go on patrol now with Beta Team?”
Xander noted his shadow following him and gave an imperceptive nod. “Knock yourself out, but be back before curfew.”
Eve gave him a quick hug and took off leaving him alone, save for the one who was following him in secret. His silent protector, his ever present champion, and the one bitch he could never seem to get rid of no matter how many times he tried.
Stopping at a crosswalk when the light turned red Xander let out an exasperated sigh. “I know you’re there.”
“The sun burns, it does. Had fun talking to daddy?”
“As much fun as can be expected with my familial track records.”
“I smell it all around you, it sticks to you and cloys about you. May I have a taste? Just one? I promise not to bite.”
Xander held up the mug he’d been carrying. “Be my guest.”
Smiling as the last rays of the sun vanished on the horizon; the stately dressed Elizabethan woman emerged swaying in the growing moonlight with a happy little smile. Plucking the mug from his outstretched hand Drusilla proceeded to drink and drank deeply. “It boils up in my insides, boils and bubbles, the cravings disappear. Miss Edith likes the special formula, might I have a treat tonight, my kitten?”
Xander patted Dru on the head as he would a faithful dog. “Sure, whatever you say, Dru.”
Drusilla started to laugh and she danced down the sidewalk with Xander passing by humans who gave her odd stares, and avoided her. But she didn’t try to attack any of them.
Xander rolled his eye and glanced up skyward. “What did you expect Ahn?”
The night was silent not wishing to answer his question.
Xander tucked his hands in his pockets along with the mug, now emptied of the blood substitute he used to control his primal instincts. It was a necessary evil, considering he’d tracked down the Primal tribes while in Africa, and had his own version of the Vision Quest Buffy and her sister Slayers had experienced time and time again. The world was a darker place these days, Stamford could attest to that, in the end. The very end, as long as you didn’t fall off that razor’s edged wire that was the morally gray path in life you could dance with the devil in an elephant graveyard if you wanted and you’d still come out marginally unscathed.
How he hooked up with Dru however was another story. And one he just wasn’t willing to think about tonight. At the moment he still had a Princess of Atlantis cooling her heels in the Scotland castle waiting for a chance to return to her people, how she survived Nitro’s explosion was still up for debate, but she wasn’t The First in a new incorporeal guise and that was all that mattered.
Xander wondered why he’d even bothered to see Fury again, considering everything he’d done wrong by him in his life, sure there was that one right thing. The only right thing, in that he covered up the fact that his mother gave birth, not to the son of Anthony Harris, but Nicholas Fury head of SHIELD. But that didn’t change the fact that Fury was and always would be a manipulator of the highest order, how ironic then that Xander was turning into the carbon copy of his old-man, eye-patch and everything.
“If that bastard knew that every Slayer has an emergency magical talisman communicator that instantly teleports the heads of the IWC to their location wherever it may be, we’d have a hell of a lot of trouble. I wish we could have prevented that sick bastard from exploding though, but there’s always that one margin of error when teleporting cross-continental is involved.” Xander let out a frustrated sigh. “I sorely desire to tell off those damn press goons though back in the States, they keep going on and on about how it was the New Warriors fault, even months after that damn Civil War and the stupid Superhuman Registration Act. All the paperwork we’ve had to deal with in order to prevent any of our Slayers from being stuck on that damn list, maybe I should have let Willow take those encrypted files and dump’em off on Pylea. Seriously, if the American Government thinks that Slayer central in Cleveland is going to fall under their jurisdiction they have another thought coming… And why the hell am I complaining to myself about this when I could be beating up on some vamps?”
“Because you like to hear the sound of your own voice ranting about the state of the world today, because you’re a bitter, spiteful old-man trapped in a young-man’s body.” The ghost of Anya seemed to whisper in his ear.
Xander shrugged off the words and shut the world around him out, he wasn’t about to get into another argument with his conscience, no matter how much it sounded like Anya. He had an organization to run and mystically empowered teenage girls to protect, not only from the nightlife, but from becoming pawns in the great Super Hero Initiative crap. Sometimes he had to question the sanity of the cape and cowl division for letting themselves be so manipulated as to actually believe that registration was the ‘right’ thing to do. Being the one who sees royally sucked.The End ?