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Busy Equalizing

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Summary: A toy pistol, a white-blond wig, and everything changes. Well, not everything... YAHF. (B/X)

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Television > EqualizerSnorpenbassFR1311,989582,05224 Oct 1224 Oct 12Yes
A/N: It's YAHF. But hey, I'm bored with giving Xander superpowers. Let's make him awesome instead. Rest in peace, Mr Woodward.

Also, Buffy/Xander.

Disclaimer: BtVS belongs to the Kuzui's, and I make no money off of this fan fic. Further disclaimers at the bottom of the story.



There's a man who leads a life of danger.
To everyone he meets he stays a stranger.
With every move he makes, another chance he takes.
Odds are he won't live to see tomorrow”

--Steve Barri, PF Sloan, “Secret Agent Man”



No toy rifle. It would have been nice to have gotten it, but the kid had had such big, watery eyes, and...dammit, he was such a softie. But the other stuff in the bargain bin was...

...oh, hello.

Walther PPK. Not black, like James Bond's gun. No, this one was chromed.



Yeah, that could...he could borrow a trench coat from uncle Rory. And a black suit from Giles, maybe? If he promised to help him catalog for a month or so, yeah...

And a wig. White-blond hair. Was there a wig? There. There was a wig. Spectacular.

He started to grin.


“What on Earth do you need a suit for? And, er, I suppose I have an old Savile Row you can use, but it's very expensive, and-”

“...and doesn't fit you any more, right?”

Giles looked uncomfortable. “Well, no. Too narrow in the shoulders.”

“Uh-huh. So I promise to help you catalog for...a month.”

“It's Savile Row, Xander. It costs more than your father earns in a year.”

“Two months.”


“Four months, and I promise to do all the driving duties for Buffy.”

That last sealed it. “Done. careful with it, would you?”


“You want me to what?”

“I don't have any money, but anything you ask for that's within my power, you'll get.”

Cordelia frowned. “I dunno...”

“Come on. You're the best at that stuff. I mean, you want me to get some amateur to cut the wig's hairdo?”

God, no. And I suppose it could be a nice challenge to try and make you look halfway decent...”


“Here ya go. There's a rip in the lining, but you can't see it if you wear it closed.”

“Great. Thanks, Rory.” Yeah, this coat would do great.

“No problem. In fact, you can keep it.”





She found him in a phone booth, desperately dialing numbers. The third time was not the charm, as he slammed it down on the hook, frowning.


He raised a finger to hold her off as he dialed again.

“Hello? Yes, could I please speak with Deputy Director Allen?” He listened. “Look, I'm in no mood to take this from a glorified secretary, so I'll just state that I have clearance Alpha, one one zero three Foxtrot Bravo, key phrase 'My seasonal pass is in the mail'.”

...why did Xander have a British accent?

He listened to the reply, clouding over, then slammed the phone down, hard. “Bloody bureaucrats.” Then he turned to Willow and continued in a surprisingly friendly tone. “Yes? Do I know you?”

“Xander? Quit kidding around!”

He glanced at his reflection in the phone booth's glass and made a little grimace. “I'm afraid I'm not this 'Xander' that you think you know, though I suspect there's something very odd going on. Now, please, from the top. What's wrong?”


It was...uncanny to see her friend like this. The white-blond hair and the accent, the dark, elegant clothes, and the way he'd calmly put several rounds from his pistol into Spike's head, distracting him and giving Buffy the time she needed to dust him when the spell broke moments later.

Even more uncanny to see Buffy blush as he smiled and gave her a professional salute, after. But then, this guy had talked Lady Elizabeth down in minutes when she freaked at the sight of Angel in demon face, had rescued Cordelia by smacking around a magically transmogrified Yeti twice his size, and, ah, okay, the fact that he had shot Larry in the foot was a bit cruel, but darkly funny.

And he'd been so polite and friendly and warm, right up until Spike threatened them.

At which point he'd gone cold and angry and, well, Spike was now dust.

Still, Buffy had Angel. She could keep Angel. If she started going for Xander too, she had another thing coming.




“No weapon forged by Man can harm me!”

Buffy gave the demon a smug smirk. “Ever heard of the Barrett M82? Neither did I, before yesterday.”

The Judge's head vanished in an explosion of bone and gore, a large part of the wall behind it gaining a surprisingly large hole while the front window of the mall shattered. Moments later, a distant thunderous echo could be heard.

Drusilla and Angelus paused. “Uh...”

Buffy grinned. “High velocity armor-piercing does the trick, it seems. And it wasn't forged.”

Next went Drusilla, most of her chest disappearing before she dusted. Third went Angelus' leg, sending him screaming to the ground. Buffy walked up to him calmly as their minions ran screaming.

“What're you waiting for! Finish me off!”

She smiled. “No, Angelus. We kinda figured that me killing you? You'd really like that. So we decided to capture you instead. How's that sound?”

He paled.




Angel hobbled into the room, grimacing at the pain from the prosthetic pressing against the stump. His leg would grow back, given enough time and blood, but it'd probably be many years, if not decades.

That was nothing compared to the pain of watching her go with the boy.

Oh, Angel understood why. The boy was alive, he was charming, he was kind, he was effective and a genius at planning small-scale assaults, and he could even help her train. That move he'd taught her with the instep had let her dust more than one overly confident martial artist vampire. And while he and Buffy had grown apart after the soul spell brought him back, she and the boy had grown closer with every day, until finally they were caught in the act by Willow.

Still. It was really annoying.

Even more annoying because the brat didn't gloat.

And now, after a conversation with Whistler, here he was. Former hero and champion, now a crippled souled vampire. About to sacrifice himself to destroy an inert stone statue, once he'd woken it up.

He'd go to Hell. Or, a hell, at least.

But Whistler had said, if he got through it? He'd have his leg back.

Fine. Not like he had anything better to do. And if he came back, maybe he could leave town. LA would be nice...




“Agent Finn.”

“Xander Harris. And you're out of uniform, major.”

Riley flinched, and Buffy stifled a grin. “How-”

Please, your records took me half an hour to obtain. And your base is located right within a public area, which is potentially disastrous, not to mention the fact that your commanding officer is a civilian who was fired from multiple projects for using unethical and illegal methods. Just what exactly are you people up to in 314?”

“Huh?” Riley blinked. “314? What's that?”

“Oh, for crying out loud...”




Ben Wilkinson stared up at the young man standing over him. “H-help.”

“No. I don't think so.” Cold eyes watched him. “Sooner or later, she'll be back. And she killed my Buffy. What will she do when she returns? No, you're a liability to this planet, Ben. Giles would probably be sorry about having to do this.”

Xander knelt beside him, then pulled one of his black leather gloves off. “As for me, I don't feel anything at all.”

The muffled whimpers ended not long after, but he held onto the rapidly cooling corpse's face long after it ceased twitching. Just in case. Then he stood up, drew his pistol and fired a single shot at point blank range into the skull.

Xander Harris walked away, and didn't return.




“You what?”

Willow shrank beneath his gaze. “I-I-I had to! We, we needed her, and – I don't understand, why're you so mad? Buffy's alive!”

Xander stared at her for a long while, then shook his head. “If you don't get it, how can I explain it?”


He found her a few hours later in an alley, huddled up near a few piles of ash. “Buffy?”

She flinched. “X-Xander?”

“Come on. I'll get you somewhere warm. Make you your favorite cocoa. And we'll talk.”




The chorus kicked in, as Buffy cried and the strings picked up. Xander's untrained, uneasy voice carried surprisingly strongly now. “You were in Heaven, Buffy, but I went the other way...”

And the song ended. She stared at him in shock. “Y-you...”

“You were gone, Buff. So I was in Hell. You think you went to Hell when Willow brought you back? I agree. But with you here...”

She smiled hesitantly. “I...I can't p-promise anything.”

He nodded, smiling back and holding out his hand. “That's okay. We'll see how it goes.”




“Because you're my Willow. And because if the world's gonna end, where else would I be?”


After things settled down, she asked. Did he really expect to be able to talk her down?

Xander smiled, and then held up the thing he'd kept hidden in his belt. A small knife with a deliberately broken trigger mechanism. A push of a button sent the blade pinging off the half-raised temple roof. It would have been deadly at point blank range to anyone not juiced up on magic.

“Just in case.”

Her eyes goggled, and then she started to laugh.

By the time Buffy and Dawn caught up to them, they were sitting there on Kingman's Bluff, laughing like loons.




They were losing. Even with the Slayers empowered, even with the Scythe, even with Xander and his Little Friend with its incendiary ammo, they were losing.

Angel picked up the amulet as Xander unbuckled the shoulder harness and threw aside the now useless minigun before picking up the full-auto shotgun loaded with crossed slugs. “Go!”

“We're not leaving you, Deadboy!”

“I said, go! Get Buffy and the others out safe! This is why I'm here!”

Xander stared at him for a brief moment, then nodded. “Don't get yourself dead, Hairgel Man. We need you on the side of good.”

“No promises.” He grinned fiercely back. “Tell her-”

“That you love her?”

“Nah. Tell her she could have chosen worse.”

And then he put the amulet on as it began to glow.




“Buffy! Rona stole my red skirt!”

“Vi, give me my iPod back!”

“I swear, I didn't touch it!”

“Naa naa, naa naa, naaa, nah naa, nah NAAAA!”

“Will you be quiet!”

The room fell silent, everyone staring at them. Buffy wore a strapless blue gown, gorgeous and expensive, and Xander wore a black tux.

The Head Slayer turned her frown on them all, in turn. “Now. Me and my fiancé here are gonna go out and have a nice dinner, go to the opera, and then we're gonna go to a hotel and do things half of you aren't legally allowed to know about. Andrew is in charge. If any of you guys make any kind of trouble...”

Xander leaned in. “Please, go ahead and do it now. Because when we get back, the shenanigans will be severely curtailed.”

She grinned, patted his cheek and then kissed it. “C'mon, honey. Let's paint the town blue.”


“We always paint it red. Blue is a nicer color.”

“Whatever you say, Buffy...”



Disclaimer 2: Robert McCall and The Equalizer are the property of Universal.

A/N 2: Anyone who wants to write the Once More With Feeling song Xander sang to Buffy, go ahead. It's probably very Bond-movie-theme-esque. ;-)

And in this YAHF canon, it wasn't Xander who summoned Sweet (which I kinda doubt it was to begin with, or else why did Sweet home in on Dawn?).

The End

You have reached the end of "Busy Equalizing". This story is complete.

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