Title: Acid Trip
Author: Yahtzee

(notes and disclaimer in part one)

Xander ran toward Willow as fast as he could. She was too busy looking after the fast-approaching Son of Verruth to notice, which probably accounted for her extreme surprise when he tackled her.

"What are you doing?" she cried as they fell to the ground.

Xander didn't bother to answer; instead, he grabbed the sack and shook it. The medallion tumbled to the ground.

"Xander, what on earth can you be thinking?" Giles called. "Put that back in the bag and get out of here!"

"No time," Xander said. He looked up at Willow as he reached for the medallion. "This is the only way. Remember that."

"Xander -- Xander, no!" Willow screamed at the moment he took the medallion in his hands.

Giles had said it would burn, but Giles hadn't known the half of it. Agony screeched through his hands, his skin, his bones, his nerves. He was half-blinded -- the medallion? tears of pain? -- but could see enough to know that he wasn't actually on fire, no matter how much it felt like it. Willow's cries mingled with those of Buffy and Giles, but he couldn't make out the words through the chattering of his teeth and the weird humming that must have been his nervous system going crazy.

This is it, this is it, Xander thought wildly. I'm dying, and I never said goodbye, and I never did any of the stuff I meant to, and this hurts like hell but I have to hold on hold on hold on --

And he could feel nothing but pain, hear nothing but roaring -- the Son of Verruth's roaring --

"Xander!" He could hear Willow perfectly well. He could open his eyes and see the medallion, glowing now with the weird orange light that also circled his arm -- and the curly inked pattern on his arm, which glowed with that same light. Nothing hurt any more. Energy was still flowing through him, but it wasn't painful. In fact, it kind of felt good.

The Son of Verruth roared one more time as his body began to vibrate, then shattered into smoking gravel. The medallion also crumbled into dust.

"Ewww," Buffy said, as the tarry rocks showered down around them. "He's made out of cat poop."

"How very apt," Giles muttered. "Xander, what on earth were you thinking? And how did you survive?"

Xander stared down at the tattoo on his arm; it still glowed faintly. Willow touched it and gasped as it sparked slightly.

"Guys -- it's a long story."

"And you're gonna tell it," Buffy said. "As soon as we get back to Giles' place. Because I don't know about you guys, but I could do with some nachos."

Xander grinned at her as she pulled him to his feet.

"I didn't think you ate nachos, Giles," Willow said, as she refilled her plate. "Thought you were more of a muesli-and-quiche kinda guy."

"I consider myself to have a refined palate," Giles said. "But there is a certain value in variety. Bring that cheese sauce back in here with you."

"And some blood," Spike said. "As long as you're up."

Buffy was smiling softly at Xander; she wore the exact expression he once would've killed to see. Now -- well, it was still pretty good. "I can't believe you were willing to do that."

Xander shrugged. "You're the Slayer, Buff. You're pretty important around here. More important than me, anyway."

"That's for sure," Spike said. "And how about popping that blood in the microwave for a few?"

"Who's the prisoner around here?" Willow said. But she started heating up the blood anyway.

"The world can always get another Slayer," Buffy said, with an uneven smile. "Last time I checked, there was only one Xander. And we'd all like to keep him around."

"Hear, hear," Willow said.

"I'll provide the pointed silence," Spike said.

"What I want to know is why this time-shifter -- for lack of a better term -- gave you the ability to rescue Buffy without sacrificing your own life, yet failed to mention it," Giles said. "Seems rather like the sort of thing that would bear discussing."

"He wasn't a spell-it-out kinda guy," Xander said. "By the way, what was he?"

"I've no idea," Giles said.

"This loopy thing doesn't provide any clues?" Xander asked, holding out his arm for Giles to see. The pattern was still visible on his skin, although it was fading quickly. "It's not some Etruscan protection symbol, or some Druid magicks, or something?"

"Xander, that's a Fibonacci spiral," Willow said.

"Fibonacci demon?" Buffy said, wrinkling her nose. "That's a new one."

"No, no. Fibonacci was an Italian mathematician. He discovered what people call the Fibonacci series -- it's this recurring pattern that shows up everywhere. It's just a mathematical concept, but it predicts things like, say, the seeds in the center of a sunflower. Or, or the diameter of the rings of a tree. The spiral's drawn in those proportions," Willow explained. "Some people call it the eternal curve."

"That I've heard," Xander said. "So what's the writing?" The phone started ringing; Buffy went to answer it.

"I can help you there," Giles said. "It's Latin. Loosely translated, it means 'however things change, they are always the same.' Rather earthly, considering the nature of its protective power."

Xander shrugged. "So Betty Page would have worked just as well. I got robbed."

"Anya!" Buffy said, just a little loudly. As they all turned toward her, Buffy continued, "Thanks for the info, but we've actually got it covered. The Son of Verruth is off the active list. -- Believe it or not, it was our man Xander who took him out. Want to congratulate him?" Without waiting for an answer, Buffy held the phone out to Xander.

Xander took it right away. "You killed the Son of Verruth?" Anya was saying, even as he held the phone to his ear.

"And hello to you too. Thanks for the disbelief, but yes, I did. I had a little help, though," he said.

"Way to go," Anya said, her voice somewhat wistful.

"Hey, Anya, about earlier?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't think that was breaking up. I think that was fighting. Sometimes it's a subset of breaking up, but more often, it's just a big nasty mess. But it blows over, and life goes on."

Anya was quiet for a moment. "Okay, I can buy that. What happens next?"

"Well, I'm the one who screwed up," Xander said. "That means that I show up tomorrow with flowers or candy. Given my hefty stock options at Kwickie Mart, I think you should keep your expectations modest. But you do get to make me grovel." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Willow grinning at him. He smiled back. "After that, we're required to be revoltingly mushy about each other for at least a week. Public necking may be involved."

When Anya spoke again, he could tell she was smiling. "I like the sound of that," she said.

THE END