Dog Man Star
Disclaimer: I donÆt own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or Bleach. Or even that title, in all honesty. I could list other things that do not belong to me, but weÆd be here a while. These are the most relevant things-Trev-owns-not.
Summary: Just after The Pack, Giles offers Xander a consultation on post-possession protections.
Rating: Uh . . . language, themes, violent content are all pretty tame, so general/teen/PG/whatever.
Notes: As I said to my beta, It's probably complete, and probably a one-shot. Partly because I have no plot, and partly because I was rather taken by Vathara's RuroKen/Bleach fics.
This remains true. Those of you on the XanderZone list can probably expect to see this there, at some point. If only because "Hey look, no costumes, no character bashing, no fanwanking."
-
The Englishman looked slightly bemused, with a dash of wry humour and a small pinch of pity.
ôThatÆs . . . uh, well, in all the research we did, I didnÆt come across short-term memory loss as a symptom of trans-possession . . .ö
Xander flinched slightly, his eyes flicking towards the two young women now well out of earshot.
ôShoot me, stuff me, mount me.ö
Giles looked at him slightly askance.
ôWell, inviting as that might be, I have a better offer for you, my boy.ö
Taking a moment out of his self-flagellation, Xander focussed on the older man again.
ôHuh?ö
Giles looked around them for a moment, before he started talking again.
ôI-in cases like this, where someone has been . . . uh . . . exposed to a being of greater power than they, it can leave behind a residue, a mark.ö
Xander gave that a momentÆs consideration, before his face paled.
ôSo, someone broke into my house, and now everyone knows that the doorÆs busted and they can get in?ö
A look of surprise made itÆs way across GilesÆ face, before he could school his features.
ôYes. Quite.ö
Incensed, Xander took a moment to wind up for a really good rant, before he deflated.
ôI . . . you know what? I think IÆve probably earned a little dubiety about my ability to grasp stuff. LetÆs move on.ö
Now it was the LibrarianÆs turn to wince, which he did.
ôYes, sorry about that. I should know better than to be surprised at hidden depths being, oh, hidden. Anyway, yes, your metaphorical lock has been beaten in, meaning youÆre now more vulnerable to spirits and attempts at possession or, say, mind control.ö
Giles paused, taking a moment to weigh his words and just how much of his own past he wanted to reveal.
ôSome of my friends, years ago now, took part in something similarly ill-advised, which left them experiencing the same . . . vulnerability.ö
Xander nodded.
ôHowever, as a Watcher IÆm trained in certain counter-spells and rituals that can, to stretch the metaphor, repair the, uh, the lock weÆve discussed.ö
Again, the Librarian paused to think something over.
ôLet me see, witch-hazel . . . Cryptid scales . . . Yes, I think I have almost everything IÆll need.ö
Xander scratched his chin.
ôDo you want to get it done now?ö
Giles snapped out of his thoughts with a visible shudder.
ôOh, dear me, no û I have rather a lot to get ready beforehand. Could you come by the library tomorrow morning, around, say, eight-thirty?ö
ôUh . . . I wish to formally register my dismay at being on school grounds before nine oÆclock. But, yeah, OK, I can do that.ö
A wry smirk on his face, Giles nodded.
ôDismay is perhaps too gentle a word, Xander. Unfortunately, needs must.ö
Chuckling, Xander turned to leave.
ôSee you tomorrow, Giles.ö
Giles, already moving back towards the library, waved his own goodbye to the teen.
-
Xander walked into the library bright and early, stifling a yawn behind his hand.
The night before the morning after had not been a restful one. During the day, heÆd been fine as long as he kept himself busy and not thinking about the incredibly vile things heÆd said and done to Willow and Buffy. But when heÆd had time to sit and think about it, heÆd felt increasingly disgusted by the whole miserable episode. Which was really saying something, given how disgusted heÆd been to begin with.
æI donÆt see Giles anywhere . . .Æ
A strange aroma teased at his nostrils û chalk, blackcurrant, mint, something else heÆd never encountered.
æIs that the WitchÆs Hazelnuts thing? Smells interesting.Æ
Giles stepped out of his office, a mug of something steaming in his hand.
ôAh, good morning, Xander.ö
Waving the mug vaguely in XanderÆs direction.
ôWe donÆt have a great deal of time, IÆm afraid. If youÆll come through the office, IÆve prepared a sacred space for the ritual, behind the counter.ö
Xander nodded, just as eager to get this done as Giles was. Protection from future painful misadventure by possession would be really nice. Incredibly nice, in fact.
Weaving his way past the desk, the table and chairs and into GilesÆ office, then finally emerging from the office, behind the front end of the library. GilesÆ work of the morning, the space heÆd created for the ritual, lay in front of him.
Having been expecting the tried and true pentagram, Xander was somewhat surprised to see a diamond shape with animals on each point, with little lines scratched around the outer edges of the diamond.
ôHuh. Nice pictures . . . thatÆs, what, a Lion, a Dragon, a Griffin and a Unicorn?ö
ôYes, Xander, exactly right. Now, if youÆd kindly sit in the middle of that diamond and for goodnessÆ sake donÆt smudge any of that bloody chalk!ö
Gingerly stepping over the chalk boundary, Xander tip-toed his way into position and sat himself down. Shuffling slightly, he got comfortable on the floor. Giles handed him the mug, and Xander peered at it curiously.
æIt looks like it should be hot û yÆknow, steam rising off it. But itÆs barely the temperature of my hand.Æ
Xander took a very cautious sip of the drink. Then he grimaced and threw a particularly unpleasant look at Giles.
Coughing to hide his own amusement, Giles gestured towards the cup with his free hand.
ôOrdinarily this ritual would be undertaken with you in a meditative state. ItÆs unusual for someone to be possessed without having some contact with magic beforehand, which often necessitates meditative or, uh, transcendental states. IÆve brewed this tincture so that you can achieve that state.ö
Still grimacing theatrically, Xander looked from the mug to Giles and back again.
ôSo, I have to drink it?ö
ôYes, Xander, you have to drink it.ö
Pinching his nose closed, Xander opened his mouth wide and poured the tincture down his throat. Then he held the mug out for Giles to retrieve, as he swallowed noisily and shivered in distaste.
Giles stepped towards Xander, plonking down a very large crystal in front of the ritual diamond and taking his mug from XanderÆs hand.
Then, in a carefully modulated voice, he began to intonate.
ôLook into the crystal, Xander . . . look carefully at it. Do you see the flaw in its centre? Concentrate on that flaw, Xander. That dark section in the centre of the crystal, that is where weÆre going. That is the flaw in your soul, the flaw that was caused by the possession, which leaves you vulnerable. WeÆre going to fix that flaw now, Xander.ö
As Giles spoke, XanderÆs eyes closed and his breathing deepened. Finally, his head drooped down onto his chest.
As that happened, Giles opened up his magic text and began to speak aloud in Latin.
-
XanderÆs next definite sensation was that strange kind of fall that only happens as one slips between wakefulness and sleep. The one that tends to jolt you awake just as youÆre nodding off.
But when his eyes snapped open, he was sitting cross-legged on the ground, just as he had been in the library. But he was no longer in the library. The starry sky above his head was proof of that, unless Giles had done some incredibly quick renovation in the past thirty seconds.
This part of Sunnydale was a good half-hour walk from the High School, a grassy verge that indicated the start of a path up to KingmanÆs Bluff.
ôUh . . . I wonder if this was entirely as planned, Giles?ö
No-one responded to him.
ôNo Giles, huh? What a surprise.ö
Something behind him sighed, and fear made him perform a spinning, crouching shuffle with superlative speed.
A dog stood on four limbs, staring curiously at him. It was nothing special in terms of the canine species û a big golden Labrador, tail wagging lazily in the night air, tongue lolling indolently.
ôWhurf?ö
Xander had been expecting something more . . . menacing. He sketched a hesitant wave at the dog. The dog yawned at him, settling down on its haunches.
ôSo, come here often?ö
The dog settled its front onto itÆs forelimbs, laying its head between its paws.
Xander inclined his head curiously.
ôYou know, if you werenÆt a dog, IÆd think you were actually bored by my comedy act.ö
The dog rolled its eyes. It absolutely did, Xander would swear to it in a court of law.
ôYou are, you son of a . . . bitch.ö
Now it was the dogÆs turn to tilt its head in bafflement, like it was saying æyeah, and?Æ
æDonÆt they call female dogs bitches? The insult kind of loses something when itÆs actually true.Æ
Taking a leaf out of the dogÆs book, Xander sat himself down.
ôOk, mister doggy. I have a problem. A magical hyena tried to make me itÆs sock puppet of evil, and now my sock has a hole in it that anyone can use to control me. As a fellow member of the canine species, got any advice?ö
ôArf!ö
Xander felt a dull kind of surprise rise up in him û this dog was communicating with him.
ôOK. You do, huh?ö
The dog stood itself up, stretched languidly and then padded over to Xander. Then it plopped down in front of him again, panting happily.
Staring flatly at the beast, Xander grasped exactly what he was supposed to do.
ôYour advice is to administer a petting.ö
æWhy couldnÆt it have been a cat? TheyÆre stuck-up, but at least theyÆre not stupid.Æ
The dog cave him a wounded look, whining at him. Xander gave in, stroking the dogÆs fur gently.
ôOK, OK, I wonÆt think the C-word again.ö
Making a contented noise, the dog closed its eyes and rumbled deep in its chest. Xander felt a similar contentment, the bile of the past couple of days fading away as he just sat and thought of nothing.
ôSo, boy, whatÆs your name?ö
The dog looked at him for a long moment. Then it shrugged out from beneath his hand and started scratching at the ground.
Xander watched in disbelief û this dog was smart. Really smart. Smart in a way that implied magical or Hellmouth-y interference. And the only magic heÆd agreed to recently was . . .
The dog finished scratching, then sat beside its masterpiece with a particularly proud set to its body.
Xander leaned forward to see what it had done, curious despite himself.
ôC-A-N-I-S. Canis? Like the constellation?ö
The dog looked surprised that he even knew that word. Such looks were fast becoming tiresome.
ôArf! Arf!ö
ôCool name, boy.ö
Canis preened under his praise. There was no other word for it. Sticking its tongue out of itÆs open mouth, it panted happily at its new human.
ôHuh. When Giles said he was going to fix the lock, I wasnÆt expecting a guard dog. But, yeah, OK, this works for me.ö
The dog shuffled over slightly and started scratching something else.
Xander watched it curiously, wondering what it was going to do next. Canis stopped scratching and looked up at him expectantly. Peering over the writing, Xander read it out to confirm what he was seeing.
ôI am your fangs. I defend your life and your pack.ö
Xander smiled slightly. If those Hyenas had been a little more like this, they wouldnÆt have needed to be exorcised.
ôThat sounds good, Canis. You can be my fangs, boy.ö
Canis barked in agreement, then pounced on him.
Xander fell backwards, arms flailing to try and break his fall, even as Canis licked him messily. Xander squeezed his eyes shut tightly, both at the fall and the wet muscle laving his face.
ôIck, a little less licking, please!ö
The dog did eventually stop licking his face, and when Xander opened his eyes again, he saw why.
CanisÆ fur was glowing gold.
ôHuh. Just when I think that this experience canÆt get any strang-ô
-
ô-er.ö
Xander finished his sentence at the same time as Giles snapped his magic tome shut.
ôWhat, Xander?ö
Looking around to confirm that, yes, he was back in the library, Xander rubbed at his face.
ôJust saying, this was a strange experience.ö
Giles smiled at him.
ôYes, strange is very much the word of the day. Still, the ritual seems to have gone off without any complications, so I suppose we can be thankful.ö
Xander stood, seeing little golden motes float gently in the air as he moved.
ôHey, cool lights.ö
Giles pointed down at the ground Xander had been sitting on.
ôYes, it is rather breathtaking. The ritual diagram glows and then dissipates into the atmosphere when the spell is finished. ItÆs how you know itÆs been completed.ö
Stretching his arms over his head, Xander yawned.
ôAaaagh. ThatÆs better.ö
Giles started to tidy up the ritual space, putting away his book and the large crystal heÆd used.
ôSo, Giles, what was the deal with the guard dog?ö
GilesÆ voice floated back from his office.
ôBeg pardon?ö
ôThe dog, Giles. When I was under, there was a Labrador in there with me.ö
Giles popped his head back around the door, the rest of his body following afterwards.
ôReally? How unusual. The, the ritual places you in a, a representation of your center, your soul. But it usually does so alone, while it closes up the openings that possession leaves.ö
Taking off his glasses, Giles pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and started to polish them.
ôIn theory, the spell blocks off any outside powers, any residual traces of the possessing spirit, anything that could possibly interfere. The only thing that remains is you. So, if all of those things are true, then your essence must have expressed itself in a secondary form.ö
Xander stared at Giles for a moment, trying to make sense of that sentence.
ôSo, itÆs not evil, itÆs not possession, it may be some part of me that IÆd never met before.ö
Giles put his glasses back on, his handkerchief still wrapped around his fingers.
ôBasically, yes. I donÆt think youÆre in any danger, but I will consult some of my colleagues on the matter û this ritual has a long history of being used to set people to rights after bad experiences with spirits, but I canÆt recall anything like this being mentioned before.ö
Giles noticed his handkerchief was still in his hand, so he folded it and placed it back in his pocket.
ôDid the, uh, dog give you itÆs name?ö
Xander looked at Giles blankly for a second, mind blank entirely.
ôUh . . . yeah, yeah, he said his name was Canis.ö
As soon as the name passed XanderÆs lips, there was a flash of golden light in the library, and both men closed their eyes reflexively at its brightness.
When they opened them again, there was a sword in XanderÆs hand. Rather an unusual one, straight-bladed and single-edged, with a black-on-gold hilt that had a strange curve to it. Then, even as they were absorbing this latest oddity, the sword began to glow again, wavering and blurring into a new form.
Xander hefted the cane in his hands, staring at it confusedly.
ôWhat on earth . . . was that?ö
Giles breathed the question, and Xander echoed it, although a suspicion began to take root at the back of the teenÆs mind.
ôTalk about being my fang . . . Canis? You got something to do with this?ö
The cane warmed briefly in his grip, a feeling of fur brushing against his fingers.
-
Visibly gathering himself, Giles turned and walked back into his office.
ôXander, IÆm going to get in touch with some of my contacts. ThereÆs some vague memory of magical weapons that I canÆt quite pin down, but I know a fellow who might. I donÆt see any reason for you not to go to class, but IÆd prefer you to leave your cane behind.ö
XanderÆs voice floated back into the office.
ôHow come, Giles?ö
Rupert paused, considering the possible meanings of that phrase. æHow come I have to go to classÆ, or æhow come I have to leave the cane behindÆ?
æWell û in the first instance, to try and hammer some knowledge into that neglected mind of yours. In the second, that was no ordinary, harmless cane.Æ
ôSee if the handle of that cane can twist left or right, will you?ö
There was a quiet shuffling noise, which Giles ignored as he looked for his address book.
ôUmmm . . . no, nothing happ- HOLY CRAP! This thingÆs a sword too?ö
Shaking his head slightly, Giles opened the bureau in his office and started rifling through it.
ôYes, Xander, yes it is. So perhaps leaving it here and not carrying it around the school would be a good idea?ö
Xander walked into his office and put the sword down, very gently, by the desk.
Giles handed him the keys to the book cage and waved him towards it.
ôGo and store it with the other swords and things, hm?ö
Xander nodded, still looking dazed. He walked out with the keys.
Then he walked back in again and picked up his cane. Then, keys and cane in his hands, he went to secure the sword.
Giles, suddenly gripped by a horrific realization, stopped searching for his book of contacts.
ôOh, bugger. IÆm going to have to teach him how to use that, arenÆt I?ö
Well, if he didnÆt want the boy cutting off something important, he was certainly going to have to step in and teach responsible blade-handling. For that matter, another string to the bow would make life a little safer for Buffy and her friends, and thus less stressful for him as her Watcher, but . . .
ôHow splendid. More time spent in the company of American teenagers.ö
The old adage was true, it seemed - no good deed goes unpunished.
~
Fin.
Disclaimer: I donÆt own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or Bleach. Or even that title, in all honesty. I could list other things that do not belong to me, but weÆd be here a while. These are the most relevant things-Trev-owns-not.
Summary: Just after The Pack, Giles offers Xander a consultation on post-possession protections.
Rating: Uh . . . language, themes, violent content are all pretty tame, so general/teen/PG/whatever.
Notes: As I said to my beta, It's probably complete, and probably a one-shot. Partly because I have no plot, and partly because I was rather taken by Vathara's RuroKen/Bleach fics.
This remains true. Those of you on the XanderZone list can probably expect to see this there, at some point. If only because "Hey look, no costumes, no character bashing, no fanwanking."
-
The Englishman looked slightly bemused, with a dash of wry humour and a small pinch of pity.
ôThatÆs . . . uh, well, in all the research we did, I didnÆt come across short-term memory loss as a symptom of trans-possession . . .ö
Xander flinched slightly, his eyes flicking towards the two young women now well out of earshot.
ôShoot me, stuff me, mount me.ö
Giles looked at him slightly askance.
ôWell, inviting as that might be, I have a better offer for you, my boy.ö
Taking a moment out of his self-flagellation, Xander focussed on the older man again.
ôHuh?ö
Giles looked around them for a moment, before he started talking again.
ôI-in cases like this, where someone has been . . . uh . . . exposed to a being of greater power than they, it can leave behind a residue, a mark.ö
Xander gave that a momentÆs consideration, before his face paled.
ôSo, someone broke into my house, and now everyone knows that the doorÆs busted and they can get in?ö
A look of surprise made itÆs way across GilesÆ face, before he could school his features.
ôYes. Quite.ö
Incensed, Xander took a moment to wind up for a really good rant, before he deflated.
ôI . . . you know what? I think IÆve probably earned a little dubiety about my ability to grasp stuff. LetÆs move on.ö
Now it was the LibrarianÆs turn to wince, which he did.
ôYes, sorry about that. I should know better than to be surprised at hidden depths being, oh, hidden. Anyway, yes, your metaphorical lock has been beaten in, meaning youÆre now more vulnerable to spirits and attempts at possession or, say, mind control.ö
Giles paused, taking a moment to weigh his words and just how much of his own past he wanted to reveal.
ôSome of my friends, years ago now, took part in something similarly ill-advised, which left them experiencing the same . . . vulnerability.ö
Xander nodded.
ôHowever, as a Watcher IÆm trained in certain counter-spells and rituals that can, to stretch the metaphor, repair the, uh, the lock weÆve discussed.ö
Again, the Librarian paused to think something over.
ôLet me see, witch-hazel . . . Cryptid scales . . . Yes, I think I have almost everything IÆll need.ö
Xander scratched his chin.
ôDo you want to get it done now?ö
Giles snapped out of his thoughts with a visible shudder.
ôOh, dear me, no û I have rather a lot to get ready beforehand. Could you come by the library tomorrow morning, around, say, eight-thirty?ö
ôUh . . . I wish to formally register my dismay at being on school grounds before nine oÆclock. But, yeah, OK, I can do that.ö
A wry smirk on his face, Giles nodded.
ôDismay is perhaps too gentle a word, Xander. Unfortunately, needs must.ö
Chuckling, Xander turned to leave.
ôSee you tomorrow, Giles.ö
Giles, already moving back towards the library, waved his own goodbye to the teen.
-
Xander walked into the library bright and early, stifling a yawn behind his hand.
The night before the morning after had not been a restful one. During the day, heÆd been fine as long as he kept himself busy and not thinking about the incredibly vile things heÆd said and done to Willow and Buffy. But when heÆd had time to sit and think about it, heÆd felt increasingly disgusted by the whole miserable episode. Which was really saying something, given how disgusted heÆd been to begin with.
æI donÆt see Giles anywhere . . .Æ
A strange aroma teased at his nostrils û chalk, blackcurrant, mint, something else heÆd never encountered.
æIs that the WitchÆs Hazelnuts thing? Smells interesting.Æ
Giles stepped out of his office, a mug of something steaming in his hand.
ôAh, good morning, Xander.ö
Waving the mug vaguely in XanderÆs direction.
ôWe donÆt have a great deal of time, IÆm afraid. If youÆll come through the office, IÆve prepared a sacred space for the ritual, behind the counter.ö
Xander nodded, just as eager to get this done as Giles was. Protection from future painful misadventure by possession would be really nice. Incredibly nice, in fact.
Weaving his way past the desk, the table and chairs and into GilesÆ office, then finally emerging from the office, behind the front end of the library. GilesÆ work of the morning, the space heÆd created for the ritual, lay in front of him.
Having been expecting the tried and true pentagram, Xander was somewhat surprised to see a diamond shape with animals on each point, with little lines scratched around the outer edges of the diamond.
ôHuh. Nice pictures . . . thatÆs, what, a Lion, a Dragon, a Griffin and a Unicorn?ö
ôYes, Xander, exactly right. Now, if youÆd kindly sit in the middle of that diamond and for goodnessÆ sake donÆt smudge any of that bloody chalk!ö
Gingerly stepping over the chalk boundary, Xander tip-toed his way into position and sat himself down. Shuffling slightly, he got comfortable on the floor. Giles handed him the mug, and Xander peered at it curiously.
æIt looks like it should be hot û yÆknow, steam rising off it. But itÆs barely the temperature of my hand.Æ
Xander took a very cautious sip of the drink. Then he grimaced and threw a particularly unpleasant look at Giles.
Coughing to hide his own amusement, Giles gestured towards the cup with his free hand.
ôOrdinarily this ritual would be undertaken with you in a meditative state. ItÆs unusual for someone to be possessed without having some contact with magic beforehand, which often necessitates meditative or, uh, transcendental states. IÆve brewed this tincture so that you can achieve that state.ö
Still grimacing theatrically, Xander looked from the mug to Giles and back again.
ôSo, I have to drink it?ö
ôYes, Xander, you have to drink it.ö
Pinching his nose closed, Xander opened his mouth wide and poured the tincture down his throat. Then he held the mug out for Giles to retrieve, as he swallowed noisily and shivered in distaste.
Giles stepped towards Xander, plonking down a very large crystal in front of the ritual diamond and taking his mug from XanderÆs hand.
Then, in a carefully modulated voice, he began to intonate.
ôLook into the crystal, Xander . . . look carefully at it. Do you see the flaw in its centre? Concentrate on that flaw, Xander. That dark section in the centre of the crystal, that is where weÆre going. That is the flaw in your soul, the flaw that was caused by the possession, which leaves you vulnerable. WeÆre going to fix that flaw now, Xander.ö
As Giles spoke, XanderÆs eyes closed and his breathing deepened. Finally, his head drooped down onto his chest.
As that happened, Giles opened up his magic text and began to speak aloud in Latin.
-
XanderÆs next definite sensation was that strange kind of fall that only happens as one slips between wakefulness and sleep. The one that tends to jolt you awake just as youÆre nodding off.
But when his eyes snapped open, he was sitting cross-legged on the ground, just as he had been in the library. But he was no longer in the library. The starry sky above his head was proof of that, unless Giles had done some incredibly quick renovation in the past thirty seconds.
This part of Sunnydale was a good half-hour walk from the High School, a grassy verge that indicated the start of a path up to KingmanÆs Bluff.
ôUh . . . I wonder if this was entirely as planned, Giles?ö
No-one responded to him.
ôNo Giles, huh? What a surprise.ö
Something behind him sighed, and fear made him perform a spinning, crouching shuffle with superlative speed.
A dog stood on four limbs, staring curiously at him. It was nothing special in terms of the canine species û a big golden Labrador, tail wagging lazily in the night air, tongue lolling indolently.
ôWhurf?ö
Xander had been expecting something more . . . menacing. He sketched a hesitant wave at the dog. The dog yawned at him, settling down on its haunches.
ôSo, come here often?ö
The dog settled its front onto itÆs forelimbs, laying its head between its paws.
Xander inclined his head curiously.
ôYou know, if you werenÆt a dog, IÆd think you were actually bored by my comedy act.ö
The dog rolled its eyes. It absolutely did, Xander would swear to it in a court of law.
ôYou are, you son of a . . . bitch.ö
Now it was the dogÆs turn to tilt its head in bafflement, like it was saying æyeah, and?Æ
æDonÆt they call female dogs bitches? The insult kind of loses something when itÆs actually true.Æ
Taking a leaf out of the dogÆs book, Xander sat himself down.
ôOk, mister doggy. I have a problem. A magical hyena tried to make me itÆs sock puppet of evil, and now my sock has a hole in it that anyone can use to control me. As a fellow member of the canine species, got any advice?ö
ôArf!ö
Xander felt a dull kind of surprise rise up in him û this dog was communicating with him.
ôOK. You do, huh?ö
The dog stood itself up, stretched languidly and then padded over to Xander. Then it plopped down in front of him again, panting happily.
Staring flatly at the beast, Xander grasped exactly what he was supposed to do.
ôYour advice is to administer a petting.ö
æWhy couldnÆt it have been a cat? TheyÆre stuck-up, but at least theyÆre not stupid.Æ
The dog cave him a wounded look, whining at him. Xander gave in, stroking the dogÆs fur gently.
ôOK, OK, I wonÆt think the C-word again.ö
Making a contented noise, the dog closed its eyes and rumbled deep in its chest. Xander felt a similar contentment, the bile of the past couple of days fading away as he just sat and thought of nothing.
ôSo, boy, whatÆs your name?ö
The dog looked at him for a long moment. Then it shrugged out from beneath his hand and started scratching at the ground.
Xander watched in disbelief û this dog was smart. Really smart. Smart in a way that implied magical or Hellmouth-y interference. And the only magic heÆd agreed to recently was . . .
The dog finished scratching, then sat beside its masterpiece with a particularly proud set to its body.
Xander leaned forward to see what it had done, curious despite himself.
ôC-A-N-I-S. Canis? Like the constellation?ö
The dog looked surprised that he even knew that word. Such looks were fast becoming tiresome.
ôArf! Arf!ö
ôCool name, boy.ö
Canis preened under his praise. There was no other word for it. Sticking its tongue out of itÆs open mouth, it panted happily at its new human.
ôHuh. When Giles said he was going to fix the lock, I wasnÆt expecting a guard dog. But, yeah, OK, this works for me.ö
The dog shuffled over slightly and started scratching something else.
Xander watched it curiously, wondering what it was going to do next. Canis stopped scratching and looked up at him expectantly. Peering over the writing, Xander read it out to confirm what he was seeing.
ôI am your fangs. I defend your life and your pack.ö
Xander smiled slightly. If those Hyenas had been a little more like this, they wouldnÆt have needed to be exorcised.
ôThat sounds good, Canis. You can be my fangs, boy.ö
Canis barked in agreement, then pounced on him.
Xander fell backwards, arms flailing to try and break his fall, even as Canis licked him messily. Xander squeezed his eyes shut tightly, both at the fall and the wet muscle laving his face.
ôIck, a little less licking, please!ö
The dog did eventually stop licking his face, and when Xander opened his eyes again, he saw why.
CanisÆ fur was glowing gold.
ôHuh. Just when I think that this experience canÆt get any strang-ô
-
ô-er.ö
Xander finished his sentence at the same time as Giles snapped his magic tome shut.
ôWhat, Xander?ö
Looking around to confirm that, yes, he was back in the library, Xander rubbed at his face.
ôJust saying, this was a strange experience.ö
Giles smiled at him.
ôYes, strange is very much the word of the day. Still, the ritual seems to have gone off without any complications, so I suppose we can be thankful.ö
Xander stood, seeing little golden motes float gently in the air as he moved.
ôHey, cool lights.ö
Giles pointed down at the ground Xander had been sitting on.
ôYes, it is rather breathtaking. The ritual diagram glows and then dissipates into the atmosphere when the spell is finished. ItÆs how you know itÆs been completed.ö
Stretching his arms over his head, Xander yawned.
ôAaaagh. ThatÆs better.ö
Giles started to tidy up the ritual space, putting away his book and the large crystal heÆd used.
ôSo, Giles, what was the deal with the guard dog?ö
GilesÆ voice floated back from his office.
ôBeg pardon?ö
ôThe dog, Giles. When I was under, there was a Labrador in there with me.ö
Giles popped his head back around the door, the rest of his body following afterwards.
ôReally? How unusual. The, the ritual places you in a, a representation of your center, your soul. But it usually does so alone, while it closes up the openings that possession leaves.ö
Taking off his glasses, Giles pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and started to polish them.
ôIn theory, the spell blocks off any outside powers, any residual traces of the possessing spirit, anything that could possibly interfere. The only thing that remains is you. So, if all of those things are true, then your essence must have expressed itself in a secondary form.ö
Xander stared at Giles for a moment, trying to make sense of that sentence.
ôSo, itÆs not evil, itÆs not possession, it may be some part of me that IÆd never met before.ö
Giles put his glasses back on, his handkerchief still wrapped around his fingers.
ôBasically, yes. I donÆt think youÆre in any danger, but I will consult some of my colleagues on the matter û this ritual has a long history of being used to set people to rights after bad experiences with spirits, but I canÆt recall anything like this being mentioned before.ö
Giles noticed his handkerchief was still in his hand, so he folded it and placed it back in his pocket.
ôDid the, uh, dog give you itÆs name?ö
Xander looked at Giles blankly for a second, mind blank entirely.
ôUh . . . yeah, yeah, he said his name was Canis.ö
As soon as the name passed XanderÆs lips, there was a flash of golden light in the library, and both men closed their eyes reflexively at its brightness.
When they opened them again, there was a sword in XanderÆs hand. Rather an unusual one, straight-bladed and single-edged, with a black-on-gold hilt that had a strange curve to it. Then, even as they were absorbing this latest oddity, the sword began to glow again, wavering and blurring into a new form.
Xander hefted the cane in his hands, staring at it confusedly.
ôWhat on earth . . . was that?ö
Giles breathed the question, and Xander echoed it, although a suspicion began to take root at the back of the teenÆs mind.
ôTalk about being my fang . . . Canis? You got something to do with this?ö
The cane warmed briefly in his grip, a feeling of fur brushing against his fingers.
-
Visibly gathering himself, Giles turned and walked back into his office.
ôXander, IÆm going to get in touch with some of my contacts. ThereÆs some vague memory of magical weapons that I canÆt quite pin down, but I know a fellow who might. I donÆt see any reason for you not to go to class, but IÆd prefer you to leave your cane behind.ö
XanderÆs voice floated back into the office.
ôHow come, Giles?ö
Rupert paused, considering the possible meanings of that phrase. æHow come I have to go to classÆ, or æhow come I have to leave the cane behindÆ?
æWell û in the first instance, to try and hammer some knowledge into that neglected mind of yours. In the second, that was no ordinary, harmless cane.Æ
ôSee if the handle of that cane can twist left or right, will you?ö
There was a quiet shuffling noise, which Giles ignored as he looked for his address book.
ôUmmm . . . no, nothing happ- HOLY CRAP! This thingÆs a sword too?ö
Shaking his head slightly, Giles opened the bureau in his office and started rifling through it.
ôYes, Xander, yes it is. So perhaps leaving it here and not carrying it around the school would be a good idea?ö
Xander walked into his office and put the sword down, very gently, by the desk.
Giles handed him the keys to the book cage and waved him towards it.
ôGo and store it with the other swords and things, hm?ö
Xander nodded, still looking dazed. He walked out with the keys.
Then he walked back in again and picked up his cane. Then, keys and cane in his hands, he went to secure the sword.
Giles, suddenly gripped by a horrific realization, stopped searching for his book of contacts.
ôOh, bugger. IÆm going to have to teach him how to use that, arenÆt I?ö
Well, if he didnÆt want the boy cutting off something important, he was certainly going to have to step in and teach responsible blade-handling. For that matter, another string to the bow would make life a little safer for Buffy and her friends, and thus less stressful for him as her Watcher, but . . .
ôHow splendid. More time spent in the company of American teenagers.ö
The old adage was true, it seemed - no good deed goes unpunished.
~
Fin.
