Title: Xander in the land of Tweed (only not)
Warnings: Slash and strangeness
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I mean no harm.
Summery: Xander gets caught in a spell Willow is doing to get rid of a demon and is transported to another time and place. I split this into two different alternatives. S/X Slash
Xander in the Land of Tweed (only not) part 2
Xander was watching the paintings again. He had been in the castle *Why am I not surprised that they chose a castle for a school for mojo.* for two days and he was still enraptured by the paintings, they just didn’t get old. It was better than watching TV. So far he had walked into two walls and tripped over his feet more times than he cared to admit because some thing in a painting would do something that caught his eye. But what the hell, the place was almost deserted for the holidays, so no one was around to see but the people he had already met. An added bonus was that it amused the kids he had met upon his arrival. And damn, did those kids need to laugh more.
It was sort of freaky how much these three children reminded him of his friends. But he had been forced to reevaluate his first impression of them. They still reminded him of Willow, Jessie and Him, but they also reminded him of the Scoobies too. They were a mixture of the two, their roles leaned towards the latter group, but the dynamics between them was more of the former. Watching their interaction was even more fascinating for Xander than the paintings were.
It was funny how the crossing worked. Ron played his role in the group, a sort of jester for his friends, but he was tall and gangly, with the same attitude and personality as Jessie. Hermione was Willow smart, and a bit of a worrier, but she had Buffy’s no nonsense and blunt manners to balance it, making her assertive without being too overbearing. And Harry, well Harry shared a similar background with Xander, and he had the same slightly warped sense of humor. But he had gotten stuck with Buff’s chosen against their choice gig, and he wore it with the same heavy stoic sense of responsibility. From what Xander had been able to gather, these kids might not have faced the same horrors as his group, but they had started at a younger age.
There was something about the whole situation that left a bad taste in Xander’s mouth. He understood better than anyone what these kids were going through, and he did what he could to lighten their mood. More than anything he tried to help them make the right choices, told them stories, edited to an extent, about his friends. So that they could see where they went wrong, and hopefully learn from the Scoobies mistakes. He never lied to them, if they asked him a question, he would answer as honestly as possible.
He could see that the adults were trying to do right by the kids, but they were causing more damage than anything else. The kids were immersed to far in the situation to not have all the information. Trying to keep them safe and uninformed would only lead to resentment, and eventually one of their deaths. But none of the grownups would listen to him. They had all told him that he couldn’t know what they were facing. He could have corrected that misconception, could have told them all about his friends and what they had faced, survived and overcome. But he doubted that they would believe him without proof, and he didn’t have any. So he just stuck to the younger generation, and watched everything around him carefully, taking note of how people acted, reacted and interacted. He listened and he learned, compiling all the information and piecing it together so that he wouldn’t be caught unaware.
At night, when he was alone in his assigned quarters, he would curl up on his bed and think about his friends, wondering if they would be able to find him. He missed them terribly, and he was worried about how they were fairing without him. The whole Glory thing had been going badly when he was dropped here. Eventually his thoughts would always turn to Spike, and he took comfort in the fact that his lover wouldn’t stop until he was safely home again. With those comforting thoughts he would drift off to sleep.