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His Greatest Gifts

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Summary: Xander - Centric FFA Stories

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > Xander-Centered > Ficlet CollectionsJadeDragonFR1542,42421212,92214 Dec 0417 Dec 04No

His Greatest Gifts

Title: His greatest Gift

Author: Simone of the Zordiak

Rating: PG - 13

Disclaimer: Joss and Kohta Hirano own all

A/N: FFA #493 Xander Harris / Alucard, hints of slash but nothing graphic.

It could have happened only to him.

Here he was walking down the street to go back to the London Watcher
headquarter, with a brunch of freshly cut mistletoe Willow needed for
an anti-demon spell of sorts, when three goons with far too many teeth
came out of the woodwork and attacked a blonde woman walking not too
far from him.

Hmmm... three vamps and he had no stake or other weapon except Willows
triple blessed silver sickle he had used to cut the mistletoe with and
the mistletoe itself. He banished the mental picture of him bashing
the vamps over the head with the mistletoe into the deep realms of his
unconsciousness, were it belonged and took aim with the sickle.

Aiming with only one eye is quite a hard thing to do. Sure, he managed
to halfway decapitate the vamp, but the woman would need to visit a
good hairdresser, if she survived this battle. The second vamp he got
in the chest, destroying the heart clear and proper, but unfortunately
the third one got him with a gun.

That was unfair! Vamps were not supposed to carry guns!

Goon number three stood over him, gloating, when a shot rang out and
he dissolved into dust, right over him. Ewww, dusty vamp all over his
new sweater.

Well, that would no longer be his problem, since the cheater had
gotten him quite good and he could see the darkness descending onto

He wasn't quite sure, but there might have been an unearthly scream
right before he succumbed.


Xander woke up, blinked and noticed a few things.

One, he woke up. That should not have been possible. He should be
imitating a doornail with his deadness, but well, he was apparently
not so dead.

Two, he had one eye too many. Namely two. Not that he wasn't happy
about that, no way, it was very nice to have his full vision back, but
he couldn't help but suspect that the reason for this miracle was
something not so good.

Three, he had no idea where he was. Ok, that happened before, but
normally he would have some hints to where he was and how he had gotten
here, simply by looking around, but this time he had no idea.

Four, someone was holding him. Someone veeery strong. Someone who did
nod budge or said anything as he tried to move, so someone asleep, or
dead. And from the absence of breasts, obviously someone very male.
A bad combination.

Five, the strange male that was holding him had no bodywarmth. So he
either was held by a corpse in the depths of rigor mortis (bad) or
by a vampire (even worse).

Six, despite his frantic search he couldn't locate his own pulse, or
heartbeat (absolutely mega-bad).

He added up his points, came to a conclusion and did was any
self-respecting Xander would do in his situation: he screamed.


The woman was glaring at him and he had the feeling that no, she
hadn't forgiven him his inopportune haircut. Well, the new one she sported
was nice, if a bit masculine, but as used to hormonal slayers as he
was, he knew that telling her something like this would end up with
him splattered at the wall of her office.

He had no idea why or how, but she reminded him of a combination of
Willow, Faith and Buffy in the depth of PMS. Not a good thing.

Glaring woman cleared he throat and stated to speak.


Willow was waiting at the door and she had donned her strongest resolve
face. She was mustering him like a naughty little boy, taking in the
fact that he wore different clothes, a stylish pair of sunglasses, held
the bag that would hopefully contained her mistletoe like a shield and
that he was five hours late.

"Ok, who is she and do I need to get the shovel?"

"Well," he swallowed nervously, "funny that you should mention this
Willow. But I don't think a shovel will do you any good."

She sighed. "What kind of demon woman is it this time? Do I have to
call Faith and Kennedy?"

He laughed. A nervous laugh. "Could you have Giles look up on
reincarnation, please? Some handy dandy spell to find out who I was
in my last life?"

She blinked. That was a very strange request, even from him.
Then she blinked once more, for she was quite sure that the man with
the red hat and coat had not been there the moment before.

Now, he was here, putting an arm around Xanders shoulders, forcing
him to drop the bag with the mistletoe. He smiled at her and Willow
had the feeling of standing in front of a great white shark, there
were too many teeth involved in that smile.

"Little witch," he said, and his voice was laced with more than enough
power to tell Willow that he was stronger than her, should it come to
a fight, "take your greenery and leave him alone. Go in, celebrate
Christmas and don't worry about him. I have waited far to long for her
rebirth and the fact that she is male this time is unimportant. Tell
his friends I will take good care," he chuckled, "of my wife."

She stood there, dazed, not knowing what to say, not doing anything as
the red-garbed man lead a protesting Xander away. Then finally she
blinked out of her shocked stupor, grabbed the dropped mistletoe bag
and raced inside. The others needed to know of this.


Several hours of research and one quickly cast spell later they had
their answers. They now knew who Xanders last incarnation had been,
and, after some leafing in thick, watcherly history books, they also
knew the name of her last incarnations husband.

And Willow knew she needed a bigger shovel.


Integral Wingates Helling was smoking her cigar, looking out of the
window of her office and thinking about the events of the day.

The boy had save her life, no question about that, even if she was
still a bit sour about the loss of her hair, he had lost more than
that. Having to witness Alucard going nearly nuts over the boys dying
body and the strange ritual he had done to rise the boy as a vampire
and not a ghoul was something she was already busily suppressing.

The reason why he had done it was even more fantastic, but than she
had to think about how her ancestor had managed to capture him in the
first time. And had to believe it.

Well, it looked like she could do nothing against his little reunion
with his wives reincarnation and thanks to his actions the boy would
remain with the Hellsing institute as long as his "husband" would.

"Well then, merry Christmas, Alucard," she said and in her mind she
heard the vampires answering laughter.

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