When I Get A Car
still_grrr asked for Xander being "manly and heroic". I think this qualifies...
When I Get A Car
Some people in the world spent Friday nights dancing, watching movies, or just playing Scrabble. They spent theirs going into battle.
The whole gang was there, waiting expectantly in the freezing open air: Buffy, Xander, Willow, Giles, Angel, and even Cordy and Ms Calendar. Giles had hinted gently that they should stick to the edges, and leave the majority of the fighting to Buffy, Giles, and Angel - or, as Giles put it, “to those of us with slightly more fighting experience”.
Xander swung his sword experimentally a few times, and kept watching the gate.
He had fighting experience. He had plenty of fighting experience. Like this afternoon - when Larry had called him a wimp, smacked him face-first into a tree, and then driven off in a car with a bumper sticker that said Real Men Score Touchdowns. And what was being shoved into trees if not fighting experience?
The gates opened, slowly. Xander tensed, and tried to prepare himself for the inevitable ass-kicking.
Someday, he thought, I’m going to get a car. And on that day, I’m going to get my own bumper sticker. And it’s going to say Real Men Use Swords.
And here they were. A whole horde of demons. And man, when those ancient prophecies said “horde”, they really meant horde, as in massive group of big fighty things who were looking to make trouble.
Buffy, as always, was taking on five at once and still managing to look irresistable. Two of them were heading towards Giles, who was fending them off with an axe. And three were making their way over to Xander and Ms Calendar.
Clobberin’ Time.
He raised his sword, and let out a blood-curdling yell - that faded to nothing as a demon smacked the blade out of his hand, and it landed ten feet away.
Right. One change in motto, coming right up: Real Men Fight Bare Handed.
Bare handed fighting. Fist fighting. Nothing like it. Something purely masculine and primal about it. Something savage, and-
Big demon. Big spiky demon, snarling, and stepping forward menacingly.
Xander backed away slightly.
Or possibly, Real Men Know When To Hide.
Big, big demon.
He shrieked - in a manly way - and ran for it.
There were a lot of trees fairly close by. Xander headed for them. They would be a good place to regroup. And catch his breath. And try to remember some karate moves.
His subconscious, in a voice that sounded remarkably like Cordelia’s, suggested snidely that Real Men Don’t Run Like Little Girls would make an excellent bumper sticker. He ignored it, but switched to fleeing in a more masculine kind of style.
Finally, he reached the trees. Or actually bushes. Incredibly prickly bushes, that were catching on his sweater. Damn.
Xander crouched down behind the least thorny bush he could find, and began using his months of combat experience to assess how the fight was going.
It seemed pretty even-handed, for the most part. No human casualties, and plenty of dead demons - but plenty more live ones still attacking. Buffy had one of them in a chokehold for a second - but it threw her off, and was running forward… and Angel punched it in the face. It went down, fast.
Hmm. Angel didn’t seem to be having any trouble fighting without a weapon. Well, good for Angel. Although he did have an unfair advantage. It was basically cheating, really.
Got it. Real Men Have A Pulse.
Which wasn’t grammatical. And Willow would kill him if she spent hours tutoring him and then he deliberately mixed up singulars and plurals.
Real Men Have Pulses, then. Except that sorta sounds like a bad porn movie.
Speaking of Willow…
Ah, there she is.
She’d retreated to the north corner of the park, along with Cordy and Ms Calendar, and the three of them seemed to be beating the crap out of a demon with baseball bats.
Giles was using a crossbow, masterfully taking down dozens of them.
And Buffy’s portion of the fight seemed to be headed in his direction.
Xander tried to seem invisible. And tried not to freeze… man, it was cold. Really cold. At least they had hot coffee on hand for once the fighting finished. Thanks to him.
Real Men Use Thermoses.
And so what if he wasn’t that good at fighting? The pre-battle preparation, like bringing coffee, was just as important.
The bush shook. Five demons were ganging up on Buffy - but she seemed to be holding her own. Swinging her sword like she’d been born for combat. Which, come to think of it, she had been. The whole thing was happening so close that Xander could have touched them.
Not that he could have done anything.
But he was useful. He was very useful. Without him, they wouldn’t even have known what they were fighting.
Real Men Can Identify Trellik Demons From Really Exaggerated Drawings In Musty Watchers Diaries Despite Only Having Seen Them Once Before. No, that doesn’t work at all…
The lead demon roared with triumph as he knocked Buffy’s sword flying. It landed on the ground, out of her reach, and he laughed. “Let’s see how the great and mighty Slayer fares without any weapons, shall we?”
A weapon.
“I can finish you off, with or without weapons,” Buffy said. But her voice was shaking slightly.
Got a weapon.
“Poor little Slayer, all alone…”
“She’s not alone.” Xander stood up, sword in hand, and swung it right through the bastard’s neck. Then he grinned at Buffy. “Okay there, Buff?”
She nodded in relief. “Thanks, Xander. Can I borrow that?”
“Sure.”
She ran screaming into battle again, and Xander watched her go, content.
Right. Real Men Use Swords, it is.