When Angelus’ rampage resulted in the death of a slayerette, the friendship between the two left behind shatters. They went their separate ways; one torn by guilt, the other by hatred. Nine years later their paths collide... Disclaimer:
The Buffy 'verse is owned by Joss Whedon, and the Stargate 'verse is own by MGM and some other people. I do own Tracey, and a couple of other characters that will show up later in the story.~*~*~“If Willow gets hurt, I’ll kill you.”- Xander to Buffy, ‘When She Was Bad’.~*~*~
*December 2008*Hey, Will
Two weeks to go. We’ve got the Christmas stuff up around the house, it looks pretty good. Casey wanted to bring a keg of beer- a keg, I ask you! Anyway, I wouldn’t drink anything like that; the last thing I want is look like that again.
I looked like him. You know who I mean.
I’m the sober guy at Christmas; the other guys are drinking themselves silly.
Don’t worry, they’re not like him when they’re drunk.
Heh, Tracey... that guy can’t hold his drink at all.
He actually tried to do it, you know... The Snoopy Dance; the way I used to when we were...
I miss ya, Will.
Wish you were here.
He wouldn’t wish this on anyone!
His heart jack-hammered within his chest, if he wasn’t afraid that he or his teammates would get hit he would be imagining his heart leaping from his body; he’d asked Willow about that so many years ago... what had she said?Xand, your heart won’t do that,” she’d grinned, “I promise.”
Xander wasn’t so sure.
His head snapped to the right as something bright flew past him, he followed the path of the blast somehow and watched as it hit some rockery several metres away.
Was it him, or were Jaffa really lousy shots?
Maybe it was the weapons they used; not so much with the accuracy.
For which he was infinitely grateful for.
He felt his momentum carry him forwards quicker, any faster and he was pretty sure that his legs would go off somewhere of their own volition. As another blast shot past Casey’s head he stuck his right arm out, armed with a P90 and ripped off a couple of shots; the rest of his team were either level with him, or in Tracey’s case, way out in front.
Man, that guy could run
Or maybe it was the incline they were running down; he prayed none of them tripped.
Major Griff glanced back, very bad idea, but somehow managed to stay on his feet.
As the ground started to level out beneath them, Griff turned again, firing a few shots off. As Xander twisted around to do the same, his C.O. screamed at Tracey.
“Dial the ‘gate!”
Griff put out a hand and shoved Xander towards slight, rocky incline; a good place to cover, “Cover Tracey!”
Xander allowed his feet to skid towards the rocky dip; he came to stop half-crouched behind it and began to lay down cover fire.
Christ, how many Jaffa were there?
A dozen, maybe more.
He jerked his gun towards a solitary Jaffa, the guy was aiming in Tracey’s direction and he’d be damned if he let him take the shot. The Jaffa jerked as the bullets hit him, not waiting to see when the guy fell - not waiting to feel the guilty weight press upon him - Xander was already on his way to finding the next target.
He was glad of the memories he’d gained from that Halloween so many years ago, having the memories of a first-rate soldier in his own noggin certainly came with benefits, and not least the ability to switch off the part of him that cringed when his bullets hit people.
He wasn’t stupid, though- he knew it was necessary.
Another staff blast shot towards him, it hit the ground less than two feet from his position; the dust threatened to make him choke. Keeping his hands steady, he retaliated; the bullets knocking the unfortunate Jaffa into a tree.
Around him, his team ripped off shots of their own; Major Griff knocked back two running Jaffa; Captain Casey managed to slow another Jaffa down, the said Jaffa was reduced to dodging a hail of bullets bouncing at his feet; and Dr. Nakamura was-
A blue tidal wave burst from the Stargate, and then retracted to settle in place.
“- we’re under fire!” One of them yelled into a radio.
A bright light started to fill his vision.
Realising what it was, Xander covered his face with his arms. His P90 slipped from his grasp, and a searing pain swept along his arms; he smelled his skin, and his BDUs, burn a minute second before one of his own arms connected hard with his nose.
The darkness enveloped him, carrying him away from the pain.
December 2008 Hi Will,
Christmas Eve tomorrow.
I can’t believe I’m still stuck in the infirmary. Fraiser says I’ll be out tomorrow, but I gotta come back to base for some more checks after Christmas. Boy, am I looking forward to that... Do I sound sarcastic?
I do, don’t I?
I guess I’m kinda lucky. Not everyone smacks themselves into a coma; stupid staff blast, lucky my arms blocked it, otherwise I’d have a burnt face, instead of two burned arms. Should have noticed the rockery behind me; still got a knot the size of Chulak on my head.
They’re all healing up real well, though.
Tracey will have to open my presents for me :D
I hope you like the present I got for you; it’s kinda lame, really. But it’s a funny present.
‘Funny’ ha ha
Not ‘Funny’ weird.
We got plenty of that from SunnyD.
And I’m yammering, aren’t I?
Your parents are still there, you know. Back home.
It would be funny in an ironic sense, if it wasn’t because... you know.
I mean, they spent your whole childhood bouncing from state to state, country to country.
They were pretty suck-y parents, Will. But, I think if you saw them now...
They miss you.
But it’s too late, isn’t it?
Merry Christmas, Will. Hope you’ll be there with us.