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Summary: COMPLETE: An escaped Goa'uld, and rather sadistic Powers to Be, bring Xander out of the dubious security of his quaint little demon filled world, and into a not so quaint alien filled star system.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Stargate > Xander-Centered > Theme: FriendshipKeiFR1547116,45636410491,201,66519 Jun 0431 Oct 06Yes

Dance Party

AN: Apologies for the delay. Sleep deprivation does not lend itself to coherent
writing. I kept having to rework stuff. BAD couple of weeks.

A bit of housecleaning so to speak:

My thanks to those who gave their honest opinions of the last chapter. Hopefully
they made this chapter stronger.

To those at XanderZone, some of you will be going "ohhh..." by the end of this chapter,
I'm sure.

Yes, I know someone is posting my stories at FF.Net. I actually AM KeiTree, no really,
so if its her. Its fine. I am not plagiarizing myself. Though some of the accusatory
emails are really quite amusing. I appreciate all of the concern though, really.

I am answering reviews from the last two chapters directly after this.

EVERYONE should take part in the Bad Fic Challenge. I've done them before in other
genres, and they're great fun. So shoo... go write and giggle manically.

******************* Trick or Treat: Chapter Thirty-Eight ************************

“So, umm…” Jack fished as all of the Sunnydale hellions, including Dawn, fidgeted
and looked a little uncomfortable. Buffy slipped over to her little sister’s side
and grabbed one pale hand.

“Been keeping some of that stuff bottled up?”

The younger Summers kid was looking increasingly miserable, and just a tad
embarrassed. Buffy shot him an absent glare when she realized that he was avidly
listening in, because really, why wouldn’t he? But she seemed content to not
disembowel him just yet in order to her role as Big Sis properly.

“Think we need to talk about that therapist thing again?” Dawn nodded meekly, which
Jack was guessing was somewhat out of the ordinary for the fire spitting youngster.
Must be, because Buffy was looking smug. “Good, choice.”

Dawn scowled and punched Buffy hard enough that it’d bruise anyone without superhuman
powers. Jack scowled when the blonde didn’t bat an eye.

Why couldn’t HE have awesome superhuman powers?


Jack swiveled his head around to face Willow Rosenberg, who was quickly climbing his
rather exclusive list of ‘scariest people I’ve ever met’. Right now she was edging
out Apophis and was right above Teal’c before he went good. Speaking of Teal’c.

Teal’c was regarding Willow Rosenberg with a look that Jack could only describe as
pure horror. “What did you do?” Jack demanded as he strode to his teammate’s side
and looked into his rigid face.

Teal’c right eyelid twitched in response.

Willow, who had seemed rather pleased with her announcement, was rapidly looking put
out with their unsatisfactory reactions. “I cast the spell.”

“The spell?” Oh man, the SPELL?! Carter was going to kill him. TEAL’C was going to
kill him, if he lived through this little episode. “You cast the Goa’uld spitting
spell? He has a Goa’uld IN HIM!”

Yes, she was definitely looking put out. Right down petulant even. Jack was rapidly
tiring of being the mature one in this group of people. It just didn’t happen that
often. “Not THAT spell,” the ‘Stupid’ was heavily implied. “I cast the No One Can
Muck Around in My Insides spell. So next time you guys piss off the wrong military
people they can’t go playing Operation in Mr. Teal’c’s tummy.”

Teal’c left eyelid twitched. Twice.

“Umm… Teal’c, buddy, how’s Junior?”

The big alien closed his eyes tightly. “Still there,” he replied, voice clipped.

“That good, huh?” Jack asked weakly.

Willow frowned and temporarily went cross-eyed as she examined Teal’c critically.
“Humm, next time I should make adjustments for the whole ‘not of Earth’ thing. I
don’t think my magic meshes all that well with your biochemistry.”

“And you didn’t think of this before, oh I don’t know, CASTING THE SPELL?!”

The witch glared and planted her hands on her hips. “Now listen here, Mister…”

“Wills,” Xander broke in, amused, “he has a point.”

They both turned and shot the shaggy haired man an incredulous look. Xander
shrugged and jammed his hands in his pants’ pockets. He looked more relaxed all of
the sudden, less on that invisible precipice he had been teetering back and forth
across since Ashley’s death. Maybe Dawn hadn’t been the only one bottling things
up. “Oh please Jack, even you have your moments. And if it makes you feel any
better Wills, the Powers’ little lackey forgot to make alien bio adjustments as
well. Last time Teal’c got some mojo cast on him he was a little green around the
gills too.”

And Jack didn’t know what in that last sentence had sent half the room to their very
own little precipices, but suddenly all of Xander’s Merry Gang were distinctly
interested, in a tightly reined fury sort of way. It was Xander’s turn to look
smug. “Ah yes, I don’t think I’d gotten to that part.”

“Last time?” Teal’c asked, breaking the brittle silence that had descended with a
strangled question that was about three octaves too high for him.

Jack blinked and swiveled to look at his friend. “Did you just squeak?”




“Hurry up Bruce, or so help me!”

The Balance Demon popped into the hospital room so quickly it would have been
pathetic if Spike hadn’t been so bloody amused. He hadn’t had this much fun in
LIFETIMES. Ashley sent the terrified lackey a saccharine smile that would have
horrified good ol’ Lucifer himself as she snatched the steaming bag of popcorn out
of the demon’s hands. Spike beamed evilly and leaned over to nick his own mug of
fresh blood.

With the pigeon this afterlife business, even in limbo, wasn’t such a bad deal.

“Can I PLEASE leave now,” the Bruce wailed as he wrung his plaid bowler hat to shreds
and shifted his weight impatiently from one foot to another. But Ashley’s attention
was already back on the action in the room.

“Hush, I’m watching Xander destroy all the plans of the Powers that Suck.”

Spike lazily considered the Whelp once he managed to tear his gaze away from Buffy
and conceded Ashley’s point, albeit grudgingly. Harris was doing his fair share to
muck up Fate. Better than most of them had ever managed.

His soul twinged in sympathetic memory. Bloody conscience. Spike’s eyes drifted
back towards the blonde Slayer and tried not to be obvious about leering. “So
you’re telling us,” Buffy was saying in response to Harris’ statement with that
deadly calm that preceded a particularly spectacular bloodbath, “that the Powers
sent you your very own Fairy Sucker Punch to tell you that they were going to press
you into service?”

Bruce was trying to crawl out of his skin, though Spike didn’t blame Bruce much.
Bruce was lucky he was invisible because his pet didn’t have much of a tolerance for
Balance Demons.

“Yup, gave me the duty and honor spiel with no small amount of gloating. Told me
I’d set myself down this path because…” at this the Whelp faltered for a moment and
Buffy picked up his thread.

“Because you never abandoned me.”

“Or me,” Red murmured softly.

Harris chuckled and it was a dark, adult sound. Surprised Spike for a bit. It was
easy, especially non-corporeal, to forget how much time HAD passed. Looks like the
Scoobies had gone and finally grown up, despite all the near deaths. He was sickened
by the pride that was rising up like bile at the back of his throat.

Bloody hell.

He was supposed to have killed them all of by now. Not glowing with distinct
non-mudering pride that no one else had managed to do the deed either. Had he
turned into a bigger Poofter than Peaches? Damnit!

“Fate and destiny by association,” Harris replied glibly.

“So how did you figure the Dracula bit?”

“Can you speak Continental American on this part,” the steel haired military man
called out waspishly, “cause this is the part I actually need to understand, right?”

Buffy grinned brightly, a cruelty laced smile that was remarkably similar to Ashley’s
sugared grin. “So, use small words and lots of pictures? Your poor overworked

“Buff,” Harris muttered.

She turned the smile on him and Spike was right pleased to see that even the loyalest
of Whelps backed up a step. God, he loved his pet’s killer smile. Made him all hot
and bothered in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with the Poof.

“If you don’t stop leering at Buffy I’m going to blindfold you,” Ashley said
brightly, her eyes still glued to the living.

Spike stretched indolently, grimacing in satisfaction as his spine cracked. “Hate
to break it to you luv, but a blindfold won’t help matters.”

He watched, wickedly bemused, as the small Slayer processed that comment, and
realized its implications. Her eyes grew huge as he mouth formed an ‘O’ of surprise
before shrieking, “SPIKE!”

And in that moment he had an uncomfortable flash of clarity about just how YOUNG
Ashley had been when she died. And all the pride he’d biled up, turned to pity in
an unbeating heartbeat, for all the nasties his pigeon would never get to kill or
sleep with. For all the living she’d miss out on.

And, bloody wanking hell. He WAS turning into a Poofter. Thank god he was dead.

He was in a much fouler mood as he turned his own attention to the drama being
enacted below. “Okay,” Harris was continuing, “so every time I touched someone who
was a Goa’uld, or who had a Goa’uld larvae in them like Teal’c, they reacted with
physical discomfort to my touch.” Giles’ snort was audible, and the tips of the
Whelp’s ears turned red before he barreled on with his usual reckless gusto. “And
I THOUGHT it was Will’s spell. I mean, it kept that Mran’chuk spirit from… uhh…”

All of the Scoobies blanched and, at the military’s interested looks, the Watcher
broke the uncomfortable silence. “Mran’chuk spirits tend to, impregnate human
males. Although,” the Watcher continued, beginning to warm to his subject, “the
actual impregnation is supposed to be quite enjoyable…”


The older man blinked before casting a well-practiced absent minded smile towards
Harris, “but birth usually results in several ten-foot long carnivorous worms that
drip poison mucus crawling out teeth first from the abdomen.”

“And death,” the Niblet sing-songed, having apparently recovered from her moment of
over sharing.

“That’s right, and horribly, agonizing, death.”

Harris was looking a bit green himself. “Ah, birth, the miracle that keeps on
giving more to the world.” Buffy snickered beautifully. “ANYWAY,” the Whelp
continued pointedly, “I figured that was what was going on. Until, of course, you
guys found your very own nest of Vampires on that planet, Horaka, with that bit from
Ra about THEM being the Scourge of the Goa’uld. And Major Carter mentioned how odd
it was that Anise’s really strong reaction had nothing to do with Vampires at that
point, and everything to do with me.”

“But,” Red continued, excited once more, “you’ve been possessed by Dracula. He
essentially claimed you as his…”

Harris made a pained face.

“Just like a Goa’uld claims a host,” Jack O’Neill finished, voice soft with wonder.
“Goa’uld are incompatible with people who have been… I guess for a better word,
compromised, by Vampires because it makes them incapable of being hosts.”

“Whoah, whoah, whoah,” Niblet broke in, “so what about people who’ve been, you know…

Now THAT was an interesting question.


“Are you sure?” Willow asked in a small, chastised voice as the group in the room
crowded around her and Mr. Teal’c. The big alien was watching her with stoic
wariness and it was making her just a teensy guilty. She’d been doing a good thing,
with the whole spell casting thing, or had really meant to. Sometimes she just got
excited and forgot to take things like biological incompatibility with Earth magic
into account.

Especially when she’d just woken up from a rage induced slumber.

The alien studied for a moment with steely eyes before inclining his head
fractionally in her direction. Xander made an encouraging shooing motion and with a
look of deep concentration on her face, Willow reached out and firmly pressed
Teal’c’s bulging forearm with the tip of her index finger.


Xander held his breath as Willow’s finger reached out towards Teal’c. In that
moment he was terrified, more terrified than he’d ever been in his life which,
really, was saying something. Terrified because if this didn’t work then he was
special. Fated. Destined beyond saving.

Alexander Lavelle Harris had made an extraordinary life out of being perfectly
ordinary in the best kind of way. He wasn’t ready to give that up for anything,
not even for a big whopping sword and some sort of tortured hero complex. Buffy
was special. Willow was special. Hell, ANGEL was special, and look where it had
gotten them.

Xander’s life was exactly what he fought for it to be, and he couldn’t imagine doing
anything else, being anything else, then what he was now; the man that helped dozens
of little girls embrace their Destinys with more than murder in their hearts.
Knowing that he could make Emily laugh, that his girls trusted him with more than
their weapons training, that they trusted him with their selves…

That made him special enough for several lifetimes, thank you very much. The Powers
could go bite themselves if they disagreed.

Willow’s finger reached out and firmly touched Teal’c’s skin. They all waited, and
Xander let out a heartfelt breath of sheer, nerve splintered relief when Teal’c
nodded slightly again, his grave eyes resting on Xander’s own.

“No more butt monkey,” he murmured as Willow and Buffy laughed and began to dance
around the room with nearly as much relief as Xander felt. He saw it in their faces,
their happiness, because they had to know, more than anyone, what it meant for Xander
to be able to stay because he wanted to, and not because it was his duty or
responsibility. His own knees were all jello-ey and definitely not up for dancing.

“What does this mean?” Jack asked softly, and he was watching Xander with something
that seemed perilously close to empathetic understanding. Stupid Jack. But Xander
was feeling benevolent. Benevolently NORMAL.

“This,” he drawled, giving Jack a grin which the older man regarded with no little
suspicion, “means that Christmas is coming early to the SGC.” Willow paused long
enough in her jig to elbow him, hard. “Ow! Sorry! Your Happy Non Denominational
Holiday Celebration is coming early to the SGC.”

Jack’s lips quirked. “Do I even want to know?”

Xander rolled one eye and reached up to scratch under his eye patch. “Probably


Ashley was grinning, even through her tears, as she threw herself as a surprised
Spike. “Ey, watch it pigeon! Man smoking here,” but he tossed his cigarette butt
to the non-corporeal ground and patted the happily bawling child on the back
carefully, as if she would break. As if she were allowed.

Her wet face looked up towards his and even red and blotchy, he could see the light
that would still burn him shining through her eyes. The same light that burned
Buffy from within even to this day as she walked through the motions of life, trapped
within the flesh and blood Hell they had sentenced her to.

“Pigeon…” Spike started awkwardly, but Ashley merely rested her cheek against his
breastbone, her tear tracks seeping through the cotton of his shirt.

“I’m ready now.”

The Vampire’s hands stilled helplessly for a moment before continuing to pat her
back. “I know, luv. I know.” And he did. And now she did as well.

Nothing great lasted forever, even for immortals.


Xander closed the door to the hospital room quietly behind him, shutting out the
babble of voices from everyone, who were excitedly talking about the ramifications
of everything that had just happened. He sagged against the corridor and took a
deep calming breath, then another, before straightening. Xander cracked his neck,
flipped off the ceiling, and proceeded to do the happiest Snoopy Dance ever.
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