Author's Note:
Hi everyone! Just a quick note before you dive into this chapter. There is an NC-18 scene included in this installment. If you prefer to skip over this section, don't worry—I've marked the beginning and end of the scene clearly so you can jump ahead without missing any key plot points.
I have also upped the rating of this FIC to reflect this.
Thank you for reading, and as always, enjoy the chapter!
:-:-:-:
The underground levels of the mansion were a stark contrast to the chaos above. The halls were lined with cold steel, the air heavy with the hum of generators powering the school's advanced technology. Xander ushered the last group of students into a reinforced room that doubled as a safe haven during emergencies. The doors hissed shut behind them, sealing them in safety.
His heart was still pounding from the fight upstairs. He leaned against the wall, taking a moment to catch his breath. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his muscles ached from the intensity of the skirmish. He glanced at his hands, the claws retracting slowly with a soft snikt. He couldn't stop the thought: What the hell is happening to me?
"Mister?" A timid voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
Xander looked up to see a young girl, barely twelve, clutching a stuffed animal tightly to her chest. Her wide eyes were full of fear. "Are we going to be okay?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Xander knelt down to her level, forcing a reassuring smile. "Yeah, kid. We're gonna be fine. You've got some of the best people in the world up there protecting us. And as long as I'm here, nobody's getting past me. Promise."
She nodded, her grip on the stuffed animal tightening. Xander gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "I need you to stay here, alright? I have a very important job for you. Do you think you can do that for me?" He asked, looking down into frightened blue orbs.
Quickly she nodded wanting to feel useful. "I want you to help keep everyone calm. If the little kids panic it wouldn't be good for anyone."
At my words she seriously nodds again purpose clearly showing on her young face.
As she turned around the girl gave a small, brave wave of her hand before retreating into the crowd of students and younger trainees. Xander straightened, turning back to the door. The reinforced steel barrier could hold against most attacks, but he knew better than to assume it would be enough.
A flicker of movement on one of the monitors caught his eye. The security cameras displayed a feed of the intruders breaching the mansion's inner defenses. The team upstairs was holding their own, but more reinforcements were pouring in, heavily armed and clearly prepared for a long fight.
A sudden crash shook the walls, and the monitor feed fizzled before cutting out entirely. Xander's stomach tightened. He could feel it—something or someone was coming for them.
The silence in the safe room was deafening. The students were huddled together, their fear palpable despite their attempts to stay calm. Xander paced near the door, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring. He could feel the tension rising, the air thick with anticipation.
Then, there it was—a faint sound, almost imperceptible at first. A scraping noise, like metal against metal, coming from the other side of the reinforced door. Xander's claws extended instinctively, his senses sharpening. He motioned for the students to stay back, his voice low and firm. "Everyone, stay quiet. Don't move."
The scraping grew louder, more deliberate. Xander pressed his ear to the door, straining to hear. His heart sank when he picked up the faint, rhythmic clink of advanced machinery. Whoever—or whatever—was out there wasn't human.
The door groaned under the pressure of something heavy pressing against it. Xander took a step back, his claws ready. The students gasped as the steel began to warp, the edges glowing faintly as if being melted.
A single, mechanical arm burst through the door, its clawed fingers gripping the edge and tearing it apart with ease. Xander's stomach churned as the creature forced its way through—a humanoid machine, its sleek, metallic body gleaming in the dim light. Its glowing red eyes locked onto Xander with unsettling precision.
"Target acquired," it said, its voice cold and emotionless.
"Yeah? Well, you overgrown toaster. We'll just have to see about that," Xander muttered, his claws gleaming as he stepped forward.
The machine lunged at him, faster than he expected. Xander barely managed to dodge, the creature's clawed hand slicing through the wall where he'd just been standing. He countered with a swipe of his own, his claws sparking as they collided with the machine's armor.
The impact sent vibrations up his arm, and he realized just how tough this thing was. It didn't flinch, didn't slow down—it just kept coming, relentless and methodical. Xander ducked under another strike, slashing at its legs in an attempt to destabilize it. The claws bit through, severing wires and causing the machine to stumble.
Behind him, the students watched in terrified silence. Xander spared a quick glance back. "Get ready to run if I can't hold it off!"
The machine recovered quickly, its damaged leg sparking as it adjusted its stance. It raised an arm, and Xander's eyes widened as a built-in weapon emerged, glowing ominously.
"Aw, hell," Xander muttered, diving to the side as a blast of energy seared past him, scorching the wall. He rolled to his feet, his claws instinctively extending as he charged the machine. This time, he didn't hold back, letting the primal energy inside him take over.
With a guttural yell, Xander drove his claws into the machine's torso, twisting and tearing through its inner workings. Sparks flew, and the machine shuddered, its glowing eyes flickering before dimming completely. It collapsed to the floor in a heap of twisted metal.
Xander staggered back, breathing hard. His arms ached, and he could feel the strain in his muscles from the exertion. But there was no time to rest—he could hear more footsteps echoing down the hall, and they were getting closer.
"Alright," Xander said, turning to the students. "Change of plans. We're not waiting here. We're moving."
Xander led the group of students through the maze of corridors, his senses on high alert. He could hear the sounds of battle above, the occasional explosion or crash reminding him just how dire the situation was. But his focus was on the kids, on keeping them safe.
He guided them toward one of the hidden escape routes built into the mansion, a tunnel that led to the woods outside. As they reached the entrance, Xander turned to the group, his expression serious.
"Listen up," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos. "This tunnel leads to the forest. Stay together, keep moving, and don't stop until you're far enough away from the mansion. Stick to the path, and you'll find a safe spot marked with an 'X.' Got it?"
The students nodded, their fear giving way to determination. Xander felt a pang of pride—it wasn't often he got to see kids show this kind of courage.
"What about you?" one of the older students asked. "Aren't you coming with us?"
Xander shook his head. "Not yet. I need to make sure no one else is left behind."
"But—" the student started, but Xander cut him off.
"No arguments. You're the priority. Now go!"
Reluctantly, the students filed into the tunnel, their footsteps echoing as they disappeared into the darkness. Xander waited until the last of them was out of sight before turning back toward the mansion.
He didn't know what he'd find when he returned, but one thing was certain: he wasn't going to let anyone take the school or its students without a fight. Not on his watch.
:-:-:-:
Xander sprinted back through the corridors, the metallic tang of smoke and the distant sounds of battle growing louder with every step. His claws were extended, his body thrumming with adrenaline as he followed the destruction back toward the mansion's central foyer. He passed shattered walls, broken furniture, and scorch marks—a clear sign of the intense fight raging above. But found no children that were left behind.
As he approached the foyer, the sound of a struggle echoed down the hall. Xander slowed, pressing himself against the wall as he peered around the corner. The scene was chaotic. Logan and Storm were locked in battle against a squad of heavily armed intruders, their attacks coordinated and ruthless. Logan's claws flashed as he tore through their ranks, while Storm summoned bolts of lightning, scattering the enemy with precision strikes.
But for every enemy they took down, two more seemed to take their place.
Xander's jaw tightened. They're outnumbered. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and then charged into the fray, letting out a loud battle cry to draw attention away from his allies.
The intruders reacted immediately, several of them turning their weapons toward him. Xander ducked and rolled as gunfire ripped through the air, his claws flashing as he took out one of the attackers. He moved with surprising agility, his instincts guiding him as he slashed and dodged.
"About time you showed up!" Logan barked, briefly glancing at Xander as he disarmed another attacker.
"Yeah, yeah, I missed you too," Xander heard Logan's laughter as he shot back, driving his claws into another enemy's weapon, rendering it useless.
Storm spared him a quick glance, her eyes glowing white as she unleashed a powerful gust of wind that sent several attackers flying. "Stay close, young man! These aren't ordinary soldiers—they're using advanced tech!"
"Yeah, I noticed," Xander muttered, dodging a strike from an enemy wielding a crackling energy blade. He countered with a quick swipe of his claws, severing the blade at its hilt.
Despite their efforts, the intruders kept pressing forward, their numbers seemingly endless. Xander could feel the strain in his body, the exhaustion beginning to creep in. But he refused to back down. These people had come to destroy everything, and he wasn't about to let them win.
Suddenly, a loud explosion rocked the room, sending debris flying. Xander was thrown to the ground, the impact knocking the wind out of him. He coughed, blinking through the dust as he struggled to push himself up.
Through the haze, he saw a new figure step into the room. This one was different—taller, clad in sleek black armor with glowing red accents. The air seemed to hum with power around them. The remaining intruders stepped aside, forming a protective perimeter around the newcomer.
Logan growled, stepping in front of Xander protectively. "Great. Just what we needed—."
The armored figure tilted their head, their voice cold and distorted as they spoke. "Logan. It's been a long time."
Logan's eyes narrowed, his claws twitching at his sides. "I don't know you. But if you're here to pick a fight, you just made the biggest mistake of your life."
The figure chuckled, the sound low and mechanical. "Oh, you'll remember me soon enough. But for now…" Their gaze shifted to Xander, who was still struggling to his feet. "The boy. He's the reason we're here."
Xander froze, his blood running cold. "Me?"
"Don't listen to them, kid," Logan growled, stepping forward. "If they want you, they're gonna have to go through me first."
Xander, still catching his breath from the fight, raised an eyebrow and let out a low whistle. "Wow. Someone took their Darth Vader cosplay way too seriously."
The figure tilted their head slightly, their voice cold and distorted as they spoke. "You think this is a joke?"
Xander gestured vaguely to the glowing armor. "I mean… yeah? What's with the whole Sith Lord meets Tron thing? Did your tailor hate you, or is this just your way of saying you're allergic to sunlight?"
Logan groaned from across the room, muttering under his breath, "Kid, maybe don't piss off the guy in the power suit."
The figure's hand twitched, an ominous hum building as energy crackled around them. "You should choose your next words carefully, boy."
Xander crossed his arms, unimpressed. "Alright, fine. How about: 'I regret nothing.' That work for you, Glowy McOvercompensate?"
The villain stiffened, clearly unused to this kind of response. "You'll regret that."
"Yeah, yeah, I've heard that one before," Xander muttered, sliding into a defensive stance. "Let me guess, this is where you monologue about how powerful you are and how I'm doomed?"
The figure took a step forward, energy radiating from their form. "Not monologuing. I'll show you."
Xander rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. "Oh good. A show-and-tell villain. My favorite."
The armored figure didn't respond. Instead, they raised a hand, and a pulse of energy shot out, slamming into Logan and sending him crashing into a wall. Storm cried out, summoning a bolt of lightning, but the figure deflected it with a casual wave of their hand.
"Enough games," the figure said, their gaze locking onto Xander. "Come with me, boy, and no one else has to get hurt."
Xander's heart raced. He glanced at Logan, who was struggling to get back up, and at Storm, who was preparing another attack. He clenched his fists, his claws extending. "Yeah, that's not happening."
The figure tilted their head again. "Very well. Have it your way."
The armored figure moved faster than Xander anticipated, closing the distance between them in a blur. Xander barely had time to react, raising his claws to block a strike from the figure's glowing weapon. The impact sent a shockwave through his body, and he staggered back, his arms trembling.
"Impressive," the figure said, their voice calm. "I see that you've inherited more than we expected."
Xander gritted his teeth, lunging forward with a flurry of strikes. His claws clashed against the figure's armor, sparks flying with each blow. But no matter how hard he hit, the armor seemed to absorb the impact, leaving the figure unfazed.
Behind him, Logan and Storm were recovering, but Xander knew he couldn't rely on them to save him. This was his fight, and he had to find a way to end it.
The figure pressed the attack, forcing Xander to dodge and parry with every ounce of strength he had. He could feel his body reaching its limits, but he refused to give up. Not now. Not ever.
As the figure raised their weapon for another strike, Xander's instincts took over. He ducked low, slipping past their guard, and drove his claws into the exposed joints of their armor. The figure let out a sharp, distorted cry, stumbling back as sparks flew from the damaged section.
Logan took the opening, charging forward with a roar. His claws slashed across the figure's chest, leaving deep gashes in the armor. Storm followed up with a bolt of lightning that struck the figure squarely, sending them crashing to the ground.
Xander staggered back, breathing hard as he watched the figure struggle to rise. Their armor was cracked and sparking, their movements slower and more labored. But there was no mistaking the fury in their glowing red eyes.
"This isn't over," the figure said, their voice crackling with static. "You can't run from who you are, Xander Harris. We'll be back."
Before anyone could stop them, the figure activated a device on their wrist, and they vanished in a flash of light, leaving behind only the faint hum of energy.
The mansion was eerily quiet in the aftermath of the battle. The intruders had retreated, their forces scattered and broken, but the damage to the school was severe. Smoke hung in the air, and the once-pristine halls were littered with debris.
Xander leaned against a wall, his body aching and his mind racing. He replayed the armored figure's words over and over in his head. You can't run from who you are.
Logan approached, his expression grim. "You alright, kid?"
Xander nodded, though he didn't feel alright. "Yeah. Just… trying to make sense of all this."
Logan studied him for a moment, then placed a hand on his shoulder. "We'll figure it out. Whatever they're after, you're not facing it alone."
Xander looked up, meeting Logan's gaze. For the first time, he saw something in the older man's eyes—something he hadn't expected. Trust.
"Thanks," Xander said quietly. "For having my back."
Logan smirked, the tension in his face easing slightly. "You did good out there, kid. Now let's clean up this mess before the Professor gets back and chews us out."
As Logan walked away, Xander took a deep breath, letting the weight of the moment settle over him. The answers he was looking for were still out there, but for now, he had a new purpose.
:-:-:-:
The War Room was quiet save for the steady hum of holographic projectors displaying a 3D map of the mansion and its surrounding grounds. Xander sat at one end of the long metal table, his arms crossed, his expression a mixture of worry and frustration. Professor Xavier sat opposite him, calm as ever, with Logan, Storm, Cyclops, and Jean Grey flanking him. Their presence filled the room with a tangible sense of authority and experience.
"I'm just saying," Xander started, his voice firm but tinged with uncertainty, "if these people—whoever they are—are after me, they're not going to care who gets caught in the crossfire. That means the students. If they come back, the kids are gonna get hurt, or worse."
Professor Xavier folded his hands on the table. His gaze was calm but piercing. "Xander, I understand your concerns, and they're not unwarranted. But abandoning the school won't guarantee the children's safety. It would simply deprive us of an opportunity to protect you—and them."
Xander shook his head. "With all due respect, Professor, they weren't after the kids. They were after me. If I leave, maybe they'll follow."
Jean's voice was soothing, but there was a firmness behind her words. "And if you leave, they might decide to retaliate for their failure by targeting the school again. The mansion is equipped to handle threats like this, Xander. It's designed to protect everyone within its walls—including you."
Cyclops leaned forward, his tone measured but direct. "We've faced enemies like this before. We don't turn our backs on our own, especially not when the stakes are this high. You've proven you're capable, Xander. You held your own during the attack. That's no small feat."
"Yeah, I held my own," Xander countered, his voice rising slightly, "but I'm not an X-Man. I'm just a guy trying to figure out what the hell is happening to him. You've got a team. A family. I'm not part of that."
Storm spoke next, her voice regal and commanding. "You may not see yourself as part of this team, but actions speak louder than words. You fought for these children, for this school, as if it were your home. That is the mark of an X-Man, whether you accept it or not."
Xander ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "And what if next time, I'm not enough? What if someone gets hurt because of me?"
Professor Xavier leaned forward slightly, his voice soft but firm. "Xander, if we allowed fear of failure to dictate our actions, we would never accomplish anything. The path you are on is difficult, but it is not one you need to walk alone. Leaving would not spare anyone the risk—it would only isolate you, making you an easier target."
Xander's jaw tightened, his gaze dropping to the table. The logic was sound, but it didn't ease the knot in his chest. He hated the idea of putting these kids at risk because of his own problems.
"Still," he said quietly, "I need to think about it."
There was a beat of silence. The X-Men exchanged glances, but no one pushed further. Professor Xavier gave a slight nod. "We understand. The choice is yours, Xander. But know that you will always have a place here, should you choose to stay."
:-:-:-:
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the courtyard as Xander walked alone, his thoughts a jumble. He needed to clear his head, to get away from the weight of the decision pressing down on him. He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice Logan approaching until the older man spoke.
"You gonna keep brooding, or you gonna talk?" Logan's gruff voice cut through the silence like a blade.
Xander turned, startled. "I thought the brooding thing was your territory."
Logan smirked faintly, lighting a cigar as he leaned against a nearby tree. "Yeah, well, figured I'd let you borrow it for a bit. What's eating you, kid?"
Xander hesitated, then sighed. "I don't know if I can stay here, Logan. The Professor makes it sound like it's all under control, but I've seen enough to know how quickly things can go south. I don't want to be the reason some kid gets hurt—or worse."
Logan took a long drag from his cigar, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "You think running's gonna solve that? Lemme tell you somethin'. I've been where you are—thinkin' the best way to protect people is to get as far away from 'em as you can. You know what that gets you? Alone. And when the bad guys come knocking, you're screwed."
"Yeah, but I'm not you," Xander shot back. "I might have your claws, but I don't have your healing, or your experience. I'm just… me.
"No, you're not me." Then Logan's eyes narrowed. "But I believe you just might be more than you think you are. You held your own against that tin can upstairs. You kept those kids safe. That wasn't luck—that was guts, instincts. And if you think for a second that makes you less of an X-Man, you're dumber than you look."
Xander managed a weak laugh. "Thanks, I think."
Logan stepped closer, his expression serious. "Look, kid. I get it. You're scared. You don't wanna screw up, don't wanna see anyone get hurt 'cause of you. But runnin' away ain't the answer. You've got people here who've got your back—people who'll fight for you, just like you fought for those kids. Don't throw that away."
Xander was quiet for a moment, his gaze drifting to the horizon. "I just… I need time to figure this out."
Logan nodded, taking another drag from his cigar. "Fair enough. Just don't take too long. The world's not gonna wait for you to make up your mind."
With that, Logan turned and walked away, leaving Xander alone with his thoughts. The weight of the decision still hung over him, but something in Logan's words struck a chord. Maybe he didn't have all the answers yet, but for now, he had a direction. First, though, he had to head back to New York.
There were things he needed to take care of before he could decide where he truly belonged.
:-:-:-:
The train rumbled into the station with a screech of metal, the fading light of the day casting long shadows across the platform. Xander stepped off, his duffel bag slung over one shoulder, and made his way up the worn concrete steps to the bustling streets of downtown New York. The city was alive, as it always seemed to be, a constant buzz of voices, car horns, and the occasional siren blending into a chaotic symphony.
He paused for a moment at the top of the steps, taking in the scene. The sun was dipping below the skyline, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. Office workers hurried toward the subway entrances, street vendors called out their last-minute deals, and families strolled by, their chatter a faint hum against the backdrop of the city.
Scene: Xander in New York
The late afternoon sunlight bathed the streets of New York in a golden glow, reflecting off the glass windows of towering skyscrapers. Xander stepped off the subway and into the bustling chaos of downtown Manhattan, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. The city moved around him like a living organism—fast, loud, and relentless. Cars honked, street vendors shouted, and a musician played a lively saxophone tune on the corner.
"Man," Xander muttered to himself, dodging a hurried businessman who didn't seem to notice him. "And I thought Sunnydale was hectic during the apocalypse."
He adjusted his bag and started walking, blending into the sea of people flowing through the streets. He didn't really have a destination—just errands to run and some space to think. Westchester and the mansion were starting to feel heavy, like the weight of everything happening was pressing down on him. New York, with its chaotic indifference, was a nice escape. Here, no one cared who you were or what was chasing you. They had their own problems.
Scene: Wandering the Streets
Xander found himself weaving through neighborhoods, his steps aimless but purposeful. He stopped for a hot dog from a cart—one of the street vendors who didn't bother with the usual touristy pitch. The hot dog was salty and a little overcooked, but it was perfect for the moment.
The city was alive in a way Xander hadn't experienced before. Sunnydale always felt like it was waiting for something bad to happen, like a storm cloud hanging overhead. Here, people just… lived. There were kids laughing in a playground, an elderly couple feeding pigeons, and street performers drawing crowds with their acrobatics.
He smiled faintly, leaning against a lamppost to watch a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat for a group of kids. Their faces lit up with awe, and for a moment, Xander forgot about the weight on his shoulders.
"Cute, isn't it?"
Xander turned to see a woman standing nearby, sipping from a paper cup of coffee. She was casually dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail. She nodded toward the magician and smiled.
"Yeah," Xander replied. "Kinda nice to see something simple and good for a change."
The woman chuckled, taking another sip. "Welcome to New York. It's crazy, but sometimes it surprises you."
Scene: Reflecting in Central Park
By the time Xander reached Central Park, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. The sky turned shades of orange and pink, casting long shadows across the park's paths. He found a bench near the lake and sat down, setting his duffel bag at his feet.
It was quieter here, the sounds of the city fading into the background. He could hear the faint rustling of leaves and the occasional laughter of joggers and cyclists passing by. For the first time in what felt like days, Xander let himself breathe.
He pulled out his repaired phone and stared at the screen. No missed calls yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time before Buffy or Willow tried to check in. He wasn't sure what he'd tell them. How do you explain getting tangled up in fights with supervillains or waking up in a penthouse with a silver-haired femme fatale?
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Get it together, Harris. You're not a kid anymore."
But that was the problem, wasn't it? He wasn't a kid. He wasn't exactly an adult, either. He was… something in between. A guy with claws he didn't ask for, running from problems he couldn't explain, trying to figure out where the hell he belonged.
The sound of wings flapping drew his attention. He looked up to see a flock of pigeons taking off from a nearby tree, their silhouettes stark against the fading light. It reminded him of something Logan had said back at the mansion: "You can't run forever, kid. Sooner or later, you gotta stand your ground."
"Yeah, easier said than done," Xander muttered.
But as he sat there, watching the city transition from day to night, he couldn't help but feel a small flicker of hope. New York was chaotic, messy, and unpredictable—kind of like his life. Maybe that was okay. Maybe, in the middle of all the noise and madness, he could figure things out.
For now, though, he had errands to run and a life to piece back together.
With a deep breath, Xander stood, slung his bag over his shoulder, and started walking again. New York didn't wait for anyone, and he wasn't about to let it leave him behind.
Xander adjusted his bag and sighed. It's been a hell of a day. And it's not even over yet.
He glanced at the street signs, orienting himself toward the nearest phone retailer. His cracked phone was still tucked in his bag, a constant reminder of the chaos at the mansion. He wasn't looking forward to the inevitable guilt trip from Buffy and Willow. He could already hear Buffy's voice in his head: "Xander, you can't just ghost us during a literal apocalypse!" And Willow, ever the tech wizard, would probably scold him for not having backed up his data.
But the phone wasn't just about calls or texts—it was his lifeline to them, his connection to a world he wasn't entirely sure he belonged in anymore. His recent run-in with Felicia only complicated things. Buffy had definitely misunderstood the situation when she called that morning and heard Felicia's teasing response while they spoke. Xander winced just thinking about it. One problem at a time, Harris.
As he walked, he couldn't help but observe the people around him. New Yorkers moved with a purpose, their strides quick and their gazes sharp. Some clutched briefcases, others balanced bags of groceries or held onto the hands of children darting ahead. He passed a street performer juggling flaming batons, his shouts for attention barely registering among the crowd. A couple of kids leaned against a graffiti-covered wall, sharing laughs as they passed a bag of chips back and forth.
There was a strange kind of beauty to it all. The city was relentless, always moving, always adapting. And yet, in the middle of all the chaos, there were moments of connection—an elderly man helping a woman with her bags, a young couple holding hands, a street vendor sharing a joke with a regular customer.
Xander found himself slowing down, letting the rhythm of the city wash over him. He'd been in so many places over the years—Sunnydale, Africa, now Westchester—but New York had a way of grounding him. It reminded him that no matter how crazy life got, the world kept turning, and people kept living.
He finally reached the phone retailer, a small shop wedged between a bodega and a pawnshop. The neon sign flickered faintly, the words "Cell Repair & Unlock" glowing in uneven blue light. Xander pushed the door open, a tiny bell jingling above his head.
Inside, the shop smelled faintly of burnt circuits and plastic. Rows of secondhand phones and accessories lined the walls, and a young guy with thick glasses and an even thicker Brooklyn accent greeted him from behind the counter.
"Hey, man, what can I do for ya?" the guy asked, setting down a phone he'd been tinkering with.
Xander pulled the cracked phone from his bag, holding it up with a sheepish grin. "Think you can bring this back to life? It didn't exactly survive my last… uh, meeting."
The guy chuckled, taking the phone and inspecting it. "You meeting people with a sledgehammer or somethin'? Yeah, I can fix it. Might take an hour or two, though."
Xander nodded, dropping the phone onto the counter. "Take your time. I'm in no rush."
As the guy got to work, Xander wandered toward the window, watching the city outside. The sun was almost gone now, the sky a deep blue tinged with the first hints of twilight. Streetlights flickered on one by one, casting golden pools of light onto the pavement.
For a moment, he let himself just… be. No vampires, no mutants, no armored psychos chasing him. Just a guy in the city, watching the world go by. But even as he stood there, he couldn't shake the thought that he didn't belong anywhere—not in with the new watcher council, not at the mansion, not here.
And yet, the city didn't care. It kept moving, kept living, and so would he.
:-:-:-:
The faint sound of sirens reached Xander's ears, but it wasn't until a loud crash echoed down the street that he really took notice. He leaned closer to the window, squinting to get a better look. At first, all he saw was chaos—a car flipped on its side, a hydrant spraying water into the air, and pedestrians scattering like ants. Then he spotted the source of the commotion.
Spider-Man swung through the air, a blur of red and blue, his movements as fluid as water. Just behind him, a familiar figure clad in sleek black leather and a silver-haired mask darted between the wreckage—Black Cat. Together, they were engaged in an all-out brawl against none other than the Sinister Six.
"Whoa," Xander muttered under his breath, watching as Spider-Man somersaulted mid-air to avoid a burst of green gas from Mysterio, his quips faint but audible even from where Xander stood. Meanwhile, Black Cat danced around Rhino's heavy-handed strikes, her movements precise and cat-like, as expected.
For a moment, Xander felt like he was watching a movie, the fight unfolding with almost choreographed precision. Black Cat somersaulted over Rhino, planting a well-aimed kick to his back, while Spider-Man launched a web that yanked Scorpion's tail into a streetlight. Despite the destruction, the duo seemed to have things under control.
That is, until Rhino and Scorpion doubled down on Black Cat.
Xander's breath hitched as Rhino charged her like a runaway train, forcing her to backpedal into Scorpion's reach. She managed to dodge one of Scorpion's strikes, but the two villains pressed her hard, leaving her little room to maneuver. Spider-Man, busy dealing with Mysterio's illusions and dodging debris flung by Sandman, couldn't get to her in time.
"Man, she's in trouble," Xander muttered, his instincts flaring. His grip on the strap of his bag tightened. He knew better than to get involved in superhero battles, especially ones involving these guys. But watching Black Cat get boxed in, her usual grace faltering under the relentless assault, made his blood boil.
The guy behind the counter must have noticed his tension. "Hey, man, whatever you're thinkin'—don't. Those two know what they're doin'. You don't wanna mess with that crowd."
Xander glanced back at him. "Yeah, I'm sure they do, but I can't just stand here and watch her get crushed."
"Seriously, dude, you'll get yourself killed!" the repair guy shouted, but Xander was already out the door, sprinting toward the action.
The air was thick with smoke and the smell of scorched asphalt as Xander closed the distance. He dropped his duffel bag by a street corner, his eyes locked on the fight ahead. Black Cat was pinned between Rhino and Scorpion, her usual agility faltering under their relentless assault. Spider-Man, occupied with Mysterio and Sandman on the other side of the street, couldn't get to her in time.
Xander's jaw tightened. They've got enough on their plate without me adding to the mess, he thought. But then he saw Black Cat stumble, Scorpion's tail lashing dangerously close to her.
Rhino's fists came down hard, smashing the ground where Black Cat had been a second ago. She barely rolled out of the way, but her momentum carried her too far, leaving her vulnerable. Scorpion lunged, his tail aimed for her back.
"Hey, Tin Can!" Xander yelled, skidding to a stop a few feet away. Scorpion's head snapped toward him, momentarily distracted.
"What the hell—" Black Cat muttered, her eyes darting toward Xander.
Scorpion growled, his tail swishing menacingly. "Who invited the civilian? You've got a death wish, buddy?"
"Guess you'll have to find out," Xander shot back, his claws extending with a soft snikt.
Scorpion didn't hesitate, lunging at him with surprising speed. Xander sidestepped the attack, swiping his claws across Scorpion's tail as it passed. Sparks flew, and the villain let out a pained hiss as wires and hydraulics were severed.
Black Cat used the distraction to spring to her feet. "Nice moves, Rookie. But don't bite off more than you can chew."
Rhino, seeing Xander as a new target, let out a deafening roar. "Oh, you're dead now, pal!" He charged, his massive frame barreling toward Xander like a freight train.
Xander stood his ground, his claws gleaming. Just before impact, he dove to the side, slashing at Rhino's legs as he passed. The villain stumbled, crashing into a parked car.
Black Cat landed beside Xander, breathing hard. "Okay, you're officially insane. What are you doing here?"
"Helping," Xander replied, keeping his eyes on the two villains as they recovered. "Seemed like you could use a hand."
"Yeah? Well, don't die while you're at it," she said, her tone equal parts exasperation and amusement.
Spider-Man swung into view, somersaulting over a blast of sand from Sandman. His voice carried over the chaos. "Uh, did I miss the memo? Who's the new guy?"
"Just a Good Samaritan," Black Cat called back. "Though he's got claws, so maybe more like a Good Wolverine."
Spider-Man landed on a streetlight, shooting a web at Mysterio's helmet to cut off his illusions. "Great. Just what we need—another clawed wildcard. Can someone please tell him we've got this under control?"
Xander deflected another strike from Scorpion, grunting. "Yeah, sure looks like it."
Spider-Man sighed audibly. "Fantastic. Another wise guy. Just my luck."
Rhino recovered first, shaking off the damage and turning his attention back to Xander and Black Cat. "I'm gonna crush both of you!" he roared, charging again.
"Stay close, Rookie," Black Cat said, her voice sharper now. She sprang forward, vaulting over Rhino with acrobatic ease. Xander, less graceful but equally determined, ducked under Rhino's swing and slashed at his exposed back.
Rhino let out a bellow of rage, swiping wildly at Xander, who danced just out of reach. "You're starting to piss me off, kid!"
"Good," Xander shot back, slashing at Rhino's arm and leaving a shallow gash. "Means I'm doing something right."
Meanwhile, Black Cat planted another of her small shock devices on Scorpion's tail, sending a burst of electricity through him. He screamed, his body convulsing before he collapsed in a sparking heap.
Spider-Man, now free of Mysterio's illusions, swung over to web Rhino's legs just as the massive villain turned toward Xander again. "Hey, Hornhead! Why don't you take a load off?"
Rhino toppled to the ground, thrashing against the webbing. Xander stepped back, catching his breath as Black Cat landed beside him again.
"Not bad for a rookie," she said, smirking. "You've got guts. Or a death wish. Hard to tell."
"Maybe both," Xander replied, his claws retracting as he exhaled. "You're welcome, by the way."
Spider-Man flipped down to the street, his mask tilting slightly as he looked Xander up and down. "So, claws, attitude, and a knack for getting into trouble. You sure you're not related to Logan?"
"Logan?" Xander asked. "Yes. I mean… No, Who's Logan?" He tried to cover up.
Black Cat chuckled, brushing a strand of silver hair from her face. "You've got a lot to learn, Rookie."
Spider-Man sighed, already turning back toward the rest of the Sinister Six, who were retreating in the distance. "Great. Another mysterious guy with claws. Just what New York needs. Don't get killed out here, okay?"
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Xander muttered as Spider-Man swung away. Black Cat lingered a moment longer, giving him an appraising look.
"You've got some skill, but next time, maybe leave the superhero stuff to the pros," she said, her tone teasing. "Unless you're planning to stick around."
"Yeah, we'll see," Xander replied, watching as she followed Spider-Man into the fray.
As the dust settled and the street grew quieter, Xander picked up his bag from the corner where he'd dropped it. His body ached, and his adrenaline was starting to wear off, but he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips.
So much for staying out of trouble.
:-:-:-:-:
Xander pushed open the door of the phone shop, his muscles still aching from the impromptu brawl with Rhino and Scorpion. The repair guy behind the counter looked up, his face a mix of annoyance and disbelief.
"You're still alive," the guy muttered, shaking his head. "Figured I'd be scraping you off the sidewalk after you ran outta here."
Xander gave him a sheepish grin. "Yeah, well, I'm stubborn like that. You got my phone?"
The repair guy slid the device across the counter, freshly repaired. "Here. Try not to smash it again in the next twenty-four hours, huh?"
"I'll do my best," Xander replied, slipping the phone into his pocket. He left a few bills on the counter and slung his duffel bag over his shoulder. "Thanks for the quick fix."
As he stepped back onto the street, the city had settled into its usual evening rhythm. The chaos from the fight earlier was already being cleaned up, and most of the bystanders had moved on. Xander exhaled deeply, his mind turning to his next errand. I should probably get some clothes that don't rip every time I fight. Maybe something tougher… leather? Or at least jeans that won't disintegrate under a punch.
He spotted a clothing store a few blocks away and started toward it, already imagining how he'd explain this to Buffy and Willow. "Oh, hey, Buff, just needed some indestructible clothes because I can't seem to stop jumping into fights with supervillains." That'll go over great
:-:-:-:
As Xander neared the corner, he caught sight of Felicia Hardy standing by her car, looking distinctly out of place among the bustling New Yorkers. She was dressed casually but still radiated the kind of effortless confidence that made people glance her way as they passed. Her silver hair caught the light, but her face was scrunched in frustration as she glared at the front wheel of her sleek black car.
"Seriously? Of all days…" Felicia muttered, kicking the tire lightly. She bent down, inspecting something near the wheel well, and let out a groan.
Xander hesitated for a moment, then made his way over. "Need a hand?"
Felicia straightened, turning toward him with a raised eyebrow. Recognition flashed across her face, and her frustration gave way to a smirk. "Well, if it isn't the hero of the hour. I saw you playing backup out there."
Xander scratched the back of his neck, suddenly self-conscious. "Yeah, uh… just doing what I could."
"Hmm," Felicia said, clearly amused. She stepped aside, gesturing to the car. "If you're so eager to help, maybe you can deal with this. The stupid thing's stuck. Some kind of debris from earlier jammed the wheel, and I can't get it out."
Xander crouched down, peering under the car. Sure enough, a piece of twisted metal had lodged itself between the tire and the frame. He reached out, trying to wiggle it free, but it was wedged in tight.
"Got a crowbar or something?" Xander asked, glancing up.
Felicia leaned against the car, watching him with a curious expression. "Crowbar? Please. You've got claws, don't you?"
Xander blinked. "How do you—?"
"I have good eyes," she said with a shrug. "And I pay attention. Don't worry, I'm not going to blow your cover. But seriously, use them. You'll be done in half the time."
Xander hesitated for a second, then sighed. Well, she's not wrong. With a quiet snikt, his claws extended, and he carefully worked the metal free. It took a bit of effort, but the debris finally popped loose, clattering to the ground.
"See? Easy," Felicia said, inspecting the wheel. "Nice work, Rookie."
Xander retracted his claws, standing up and brushing off his hands. "Rookie? I thought I at least earned 'sidekick' status by now."
Felicia laughed, a light, musical sound that somehow put him at ease. "Sidekicks are overrated. Besides, you're more interesting as a wildcard."
Xander tossed the piece of twisted metal he had just gotten free from Felicia's car and stood to his full height, brushing off his hands. "That should do it," he said, stepping back and gesturing to the now-freed wheel. "You're good to go."
Felicia smiled at him, a glimmer of amusement in her green eyes. She tilted her head, crossing her arms as she leaned against the car. "Not bad. I'd say you've earned a thank-you."
Xander chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, it's not like I'm saving the world or anything. Just helping out."
Her lips curled into a playful smirk. "Funny. I saw a guy earlier tonight who looked an awful lot like you playing backup for Black Cat. Any chance you're moonlighting as a superhero?"
Xander blinked, surprised. "No way." He laughed awkwardly, "I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and figured she could use some help."
"Hmm." Felicia tapped her chin, pretending to think. "So you're telling me you just stumbled into a fight with Rhino and Scorpion? That's quite the coincidence."
"Yeah, well," Xander said, shrugging. "I've got a bad habit of finding trouble—or it finds me. But hey, she handled herself pretty well. She's, uh… impressive."
Felicia raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. "Impressive, huh?"
"Yeah," Xander said, nodding earnestly. "She's got this whole… I don't know, confidence thing. Like she knows exactly what she's doing and doesn't care who's watching. It's kind of… inspiring."
Felicia laughed, a low, musical sound that made Xander feel like he'd just said something far more entertaining than he realized. "Inspiring. That's a new one."
"Hey, I call it like I see it," Xander said, frowning slightly. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing," Felicia said, waving him off. "Just… interesting to hear what people think about her when she's not around."
"Well, what about you?" Xander asked, folding his arms. "You're talking like you know her or something."
Felicia tilted her head, her smirk turning sly. "Oh, we've crossed paths a few times. She's not as mysterious as she likes to pretend."
Xander raised an eyebrow. "Really? What's she like?"
Felicia took a step closer, her voice dropping slightly. "Let's just say she's not the kind of person you can put in a neat little box. She's full of surprises. But enough about her—what's your deal, Rookie?"
"Rookie?" Xander echoed, his lips twitching into a grin. "You sound just like her."
"Do I?" Felicia asked innocently, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Maybe she's rubbing off on me."
Xander gave her a skeptical look, but before he could press further, Felicia opened the car door and gestured for him to get in. "Come on. I owe you for the assist. Let's grab a bite to eat."
"I don't know…" Xander hesitated. "I've still got some errands to run."
Felicia rolled her eyes. "Errands can wait. You're not gonna make me eat alone, are you? That would just be rude."
Something about her tone—the playful challenge laced beneath it—made it impossible for Xander to say no. He sighed, shrugging. "Alright, fine. But no fancy stuff, okay? I'm not exactly rolling in cash."
Felicia grinned as she slid into the driver's seat. "Don't worry, Rookie. This one's on me."
:-:-:-:
When Xander stepped into Felicia's apartment, he felt like he'd walked into a luxury magazine spread. The sleek black-and-white décor, the glittering city skyline visible through the massive windows, and the faint hum of soft jazz in the background all screamed "classy."
"Wow," he said, glancing around. "This is, uh… definitely fancier than my usual digs."
Felicia smirked, hanging her coat on a sleek rack near the door. "What can I say? I have good taste."
"I'll say," Xander muttered, his eyes catching on a glass display case filled with ornate trinkets and rare-looking objects. He didn't dare ask how she'd acquired them.
Felicia disappeared into the kitchen, her voice drifting back to him. "Make yourself comfortable. Wine?"
"Sure, why not?" Xander replied, wandering toward the windows. The city stretched out below, a sea of glittering lights that seemed endless. He was still trying to wrap his head around how he'd gone from watching a superhero fight to standing in a penthouse with one of the city's most intriguing strangers.
Felicia returned with two glasses of wine, handing one to him as she leaned against the counter. "So, Rookie, what's a guy like you doing in the middle of a fight with the Sinister Six?"
Xander shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. "Like I said, wrong place, wrong time. And, well… I've got this thing about not standing by when people need help."
"Admirable," Felicia said, her tone light. "But also dangerous. You're lucky you didn't get yourself killed."
"Yeah, well, I've been lucky a lot lately," Xander said, glancing at her. "What about you? You seem pretty comfortable in all this chaos."
Felicia's lips twitched, but she didn't answer right away. Instead, she swirled her wine, studying him. "What would you say if I told you I'm closer to all this than you think?"
Xander frowned, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
Felicia's smirk returned, but instead of answering, she walked past him, letting her fingers trail along his arm as she moved toward the couch. "Never mind. It's more fun keeping you guessing."
Xander stared after her, suddenly feeling like he was the punchline to a joke he didn't know he was part of. "You're not gonna tell me, are you?"
"Nope," Felicia said, settling onto the couch and patting the spot next to her. "But don't worry, Rookie. You'll figure it out eventually."
Xander shook his head, a bemused smile tugging at his lips. Whatever game she was playing, he had a feeling he was in for a wild ride.
He couldn't help but feel out of place in this sleek apartment, but Felicia didn't seem to notice. She walked ahead of him with an air of effortless confidence, setting her coat on a nearby rack.
"Make yourself comfortable," she said over her shoulder, disappearing into the kitchen. "Dinner won't take long."
"Dinner?" Xander echoed, surprised. "I figured you'd just order takeout or something."
Felicia poked her head around the corner, a sly grin on her face. "I don't always rely on delivery, Rookie. Sometimes I like to get my hands dirty."
"Good to know," Xander said, setting his duffel bag by the couch and glancing around. He noticed a glass case filled with ornate trinkets and baubles—clearly expensive. "Nice collection you've got there."
Felicia's voice floated out from the kitchen, light and teasing. "Admiring my trophies? Careful, they might bite."
Xander chuckled, wandering toward the windows. The view of the city was incredible, the lights glittering against the deepening night sky. He could feel himself relaxing, the tension from the last few days easing just a bit.
After a few minutes, Felicia called out, "Dinner's ready."
Xander turned to see her carrying two plates to the small dining table near the window. She had ditched her jacket and boots for a more relaxed outfit—a loose sweater and leggings—but her confidence remained the same. She set the plates down and gestured for him to sit.
"Wow," Xander said as he sat across from her. "This looks… normal. I was expecting something fancy, given the whole 'upper crust chic' vibe you've got going on."
Felicia smirked, sitting down with a graceful ease. "Sometimes simple is better. Besides, I wanted to see if you can appreciate the finer things in life, like a good home-cooked meal."
Xander picked up his fork and took a bite. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "This is really good."
"Of course it is," Felicia said, feigning offense. "What, you thought I couldn't cook?"
"Well, you don't exactly scream 'domestic goddess,'" Xander admitted with a grin. "But this… yeah, this is impressive."
Felicia laughed, leaning back in her chair as she sipped her wine. "Glad to know I can still surprise you."
They ate in comfortable silence for a moment before Felicia broke it, her tone casual but laced with curiosity. "So… did you enjoy yourself the other night?"
Xander froze, mid-bite. "Uh… the other night?"
Felicia's lips curved into a knowing smile. "At my place. You don't remember?"
Xander swallowed awkwardly, setting down his fork. "To be honest… I had a few too many drinks. Okay, more than a few. I woke up here, and I just kind of assumed… Well, nothing happened."
Felicia laughed, a genuine, melodic sound that made his face flush. "Oh, Rookie, you're adorable. Nothing happened, huh?"
Xander shifted uncomfortably. "Did something happen?"
Felicia leaned forward, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "How about I remind you?"
Her voice was teasing, her tone impossible to read. Xander's mouth opened to respond, but before he could say anything, Felicia's smile deepened.
"Finish your dinner," she said, standing and taking her plate to the sink. "Then we'll see how good your memory really is."
Xander could only stare after her, a mix of nerves and curiosity bubbling to the surface. Whatever he'd expected from this night, it definitely wasn't this.
:-:-:-:-:
NC-18 scene (skip if under this age)
Xander hesitated as. Felicia led the way to her bedroom, her hips swaying provocatively. Her room was small but cozy unlike the feel to the remaining apartment. This room was filled with the warmth of her scent sparking a memory he seemed to have forgotten from the night before.
"Are you remembering anything yet?," she whispered, her hands sliding down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt. He sucked in a breath as her fingers trailed over his skin, his heart pounding in his chest.
She guided him to the couch, straddling him as she kissed him deeply. Her lips were soft, her tongue teasing as it explored his mouth. He groaned, his hands gripping her hips as she ground against him. She smiled against his lips, her fingers tangling in his hair.
"You feel so good," she murmured, her breath hot on his skin as she trailed kisses down his neck. His hands slid under her shirt, her skin smooth and warm under his touch. She gasped as his fingers brushed against her breasts, her nipples hardening under the thin fabric of her bra.
He flipped her onto her back, his body covering hers as he kissed her deeply. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as she moaned into his mouth. He could feel her heat, her desire pressing against him. He broke the kiss, his breath ragged as he looked down at her.
"You sure about this?" he asked, his voice hoarse. She smiled, her eyes dark with desire.
"Oh, I'm sure," she said, pulling him back down to her. "Now, where were we?"
And with that, Xander lost himself in her, the past forgotten, the future uncertain, but the present—the present was all that mattered. And the present was Felicia, her body, her laugh, her touch. And it was more than enough.
:-:-:-:
A/N (Not over yet in fact it's a bit more graphic here)
Sunlight filtered through the curtains of Felicia's sleek apartment, casting warm golden beams across the minimalist decor. Xander stirred on the couch, groaning softly as he blinked awake. His shirt was rumpled, his duffel bag leaning haphazardly against the armrest. The faint smell of coffee wafted through the air, pulling him further from the groggy haze of sleep.
His mind was still catching up to reality, bits and pieces of the night before floating back to him. Felicia's teasing smile, her confident laughter, and—well, some moments that were definitely less blurry than others.
He heard movement in the kitchen and turned to see Felicia, dressed casually in a loose sweater and leggings, her silver hair tied up in a messy bun. She moved with the same effortless grace as always, her back to him as she poured a cup of coffee.
The sunlight pierced through the half-open curtains, casting a golden glow on Xander's face. He stirred, his dark brown hair disheveled, and his muscular body sprawled across the bed. His chocolate-brown eyes fluttered open, taking a moment to adjust to the light. The room smelled of sex and sweat, a reminder of the intense night he had shared with Felicia.
Felicia was already awake, her white-platinum blonde hair cascading down her back as she as she sat on the edge of her bed, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief. She turned to look at Xander, her full lips curving into a sultry smile. Her voluptuous figure was hidden by the casual clothes she wore, yet her natural curves were on full display.
"Morning, Rookie," she purred, her voice husky from the night's activities.
Xander grinned, his crooked smile making an appearance. "Morning, Fel. How was last night?"
Felicia chuckled, her eyes gleaming with playful confidence as she sauntered toward him. Though she was already dressed, Xander couldn't help but catch glimpses of the curves as his eyes roamed over her, taking in her large, perky breasts, he'd seen the night before. His eyes traced her form—her graceful silhouette, the sway of her hips, and the effortless allure she carried. She was captivating, almost unreal, like a goddess stepping through his world.
In that moment, he couldn't help but think: I'm one lucky guy just to be here.
She climbed back onto the bed, straddling Xander. He could feel the heat radiating from her core, he felt himself twitch in response. She leaned down, her bust pressing against his chest, her lips capturing his in a passionate kiss. Xander's hands roamed over her body, squeezing her ass, caressing her back, teasing her nipples.
Felicia moaned into his mouth, her hips grinding against his. She could feel himself hardening beneath her, and she rubbed herself against him. Xander groaned, his hands gripping her hips tightly.
"God, you're so sexy," he growled, his eyes dark with lust.
Felicia smirked, her hand reaching down to grasp him in her slinger fingers. She guided him to her entrance, slowly sliding down onto him. They both moaned as he filled her, her tight walls clenching around him.
She began to ride him, her hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm. Xander watched her, his eyes locked onto hers. Her breasts bounced with each movement, her head thrown back in pleasure. He could feel every inch of her, her velvety softness enveloping him.
He thrust his hips upwards, meeting her movements. Their bodies moved in sync, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. The sound of their flesh slapping against each other filled the room, their moans and groans echoing off the walls.
Xander could feel his orgasm building, his body tensing with each thrust. Felicia's moans grew louder, her movements more erratic. She was close, he could feel it. He reached between them, his fingers finding her bud. He rubbed it in quick circles, sending her over the edge.
Felicia cried out, her body convulsing as she came. Her walls clenched around Xander, sending him spiraling into his own release. He groaned, his manhood pulsing as he filled her with his seed.
They collapsed onto the bed, their bodies warm and glistening from exertion. Felicia lay sprawled across Xander, her head nestled against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He wrapped his arms around her, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on her back as they both caught their breath.
Their hearts thudded in perfect unison, the silence between them filled with the soft rise and fall of their breathing.
Xander tilted his head to look at her, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. "Now that's what I call a good morning."
Felicia chuckled, her laughter light and infectious as it vibrated through his chest. "Well, Rookie, you sure know how to start a day right."
:-:-:-:
End NC-18 (pick up here for normal chapter)
Xander stood, grabbing his duffel bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "Thanks, but I should probably get going. I've got some stuff to take care of back in Westchester."
"Suit yourself," Felicia said, walking him to the door. She opened it with a casual flourish, leaning against the frame as he stepped out into the hallway. "Oh, and Rookie?"
He paused, turning back to her. "Yeah?"
Felicia's smirk returned, her green eyes glinting with mischief. "If you ever need another reminder… you know where to find me."
Xander chuckled, shaking his head. "Noted."
As he headed down the hall, he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips. Whatever the future held, one thing was certain—Felicia Hardy was going to keep him on his toes.
As Xander strolled down the bustling New York street, he abruptly stopped mid-step, his brow furrowing as if a switch had just flipped in his brain. Slowly, he turned back to look at the sleek, posh apartment building he had just left. A flood of moments rushed into his mind—Felicia's teasing hints, her confident smirk, the way she moved with a grace that felt oddly familiar.
Everything clicked at once.
A loud laugh burst from him, drawing a few confused glances from passersby. Shaking his head in disbelief, he blurted out, "She is so totally Black Cat!"