Author's Note : I've recently looked over my various fanfic notes and documents and found a lot of old ideas for crossover fiction that never made it into full-fledged stories. So I decided to write some shorts from these ideas, see what people think, try and find out whether any of these might have the potential to make full stories out of them after all. So let me know what you think, okay?

This first one here is a crossover with X-Men. Doesn't really matter which version of them. X-Men characters and concepts are copyright Marvel Comics, no infringment intended. All Buffy characters are copyright Joss Whedon and people. Just the crossover idea is mine.


Short 1: The Great White North

The woman looked like she was a teenager, but his nose wasn't fooled. There was something about her, something that belied that youthful fa├žade she was showing to the world. It was almost like looking into a mirror image, he mused.

She was slowly coming awake, whatever drugs they had used to knock her out wearing off. He remained sitting in the far corner of the holding cell, not making any move that she might regard as threatening. He remembered how he had reacted when he'd been brought in here. And while this woman didn't look all that dangerous, he knew very well how looks could be deceiving.

"Stupid fuckers," she cursed. It was endearing in a strange way. No "Where am I?" or something.

"Welcome to the cell, darling," he said, still not moving. "Our hosts hope you enjoy your unwanted stay."

She looked up at him, dark tresses hanging in her face, her dark chocolate eyes flashing dangerously. Yep, no normal girl, this one. He could smell the power rolling off her. Whatever she was, she wasn't normal.

"And you are?" she asked, standing up on wobbly knees, her body language screaming that she was ready to kick his ass if needed. Under other circumstances he might have enjoyed going a few rounds with her, but under the circumstances...

"The name's James," he said, doing his best to look non-threatening. He wasn't very good at it. "And you?"

"Farrah," she answered, checking out her surroundings while keeping an eye on him. "So what is this place?"

"Beats me!" He rose to his feet, slowly. "I was leaving a bar, pretty drunk, and someone took me down from behind. Woke up in here two days ago. Haven't seen anyone since."

"Sounds familiar. Some bastards shot me in the back. Thought I was dead."

"This could be hell, I guess," he mused.

"Nah, I don't think so. Not enough fire and brimstone."

That wrung a smile from him. Not one to crack under pressure and a sense of humour. Well, if nothing else he met a fascinating woman during this kidnapping.

"What do you think they want with us?" Farrah asked.

"Not sure, but if I were to make a guess..."

Without further warning he struck out, bone claws sliding out of his hands, aiming directly for the woman's face. Faster than the eye could see she reacted, dropping to the floor and sweeping his legs out from under him. He flipped back to his feet, even as she struck out towards him. Her fist connected with his nose, breaking it. His claws swiped across her arm, leaving three bloody lines.

They sprung apart. James' nose stopped bleeding and the broken bone set itself. The three bloody lines on Farrah's arm took a little longer to heal, but within a minute they were gone.

"I'd say they figured out we aren't exactly your normal joes," James finished.

"You can say that again."

The two prisoners didn't know it, but they were watched by a hidden camera. In another place someone was watching the camera footage with a smile on his face.

"Perfect specimens, yes. Prepare them for the first round of memory implants. We need to erase their previous personalities before we can proceed."

A murmur of nods from the lab technicians answered him as he continued to study his two specimens.

"Farrah Winters and James Howell," he mused, chuckling. "I think we need to give you some new names for your stint in Weapon X." Thinking a moment, he typed two names into the computer for the new files.

Faith and Logan.

THE END