Going to Extremes
Disclaimer: own nothing.
A/N: timeline is majorly screwed with.
Summary: After the lie is discovered, Xander is forced into extreme exile.
A/N: my second attempt at a wrestling crossover…guess with who? Plus, it's been years, so, I don't really remember the feuds going on at the time, so, I'm adlibbing a little bit here.
Xander walked on in the blinding heat of California as quickly as he could. It was two days ago, two long days, that his life had been up heaved in a brand new way. Angel had tried to bring about the apocalypse, and had sent some vamps to attack him and his friends to capture Giles during the middle of a complex spell to give the bastard his soul back…then, his best friend, who just woke up from a coma, decided to do the spell again.
So, he'd done the sensible thing…he'd lied to his best friend, Buffy, and told her nothing about the spell. It made sense to him, still did. If he were to have his soul, she would hesitate, and the world could be lost. He figured that Buffy would kill him off before she even had to know…for the time being.
Instead, Willow had completed the spell before Angel could even stab Acathla with the sword…a day and a half later, and Giles calls him up, tells him to leave before Buffy comes, and he does just that.
His first plan was real simple…run and hide. He didn't trust any of his family to keep him safe, so he just had to rely on himself…fun.
As he entered the parking lot to the bus station, he groaned aloud as he saw Cordelia standing there, waiting for him.
"…Giles called me," she told him before he could say anything, "He said you were running…from Buffy."
"…I didn't lie because I was jealous," he said.
"You did," she remarked calmly, "But, that wasn't the sole reason…if I honestly believed that you did what you did solely out of jealousy, Buffy would be here right now…but, she's not."
She walked up to him and shoved something into his hand, then shoved her tongue down his throat. He responded in kind after a moment of shock, but she pulled away before it could become too intimate.
"Call me every week," she said, "But, don't tell me where you are."
With that being said, she walked away from him, strolling back to her car. He sighed, took a breath to calm himself down, and looked into his hand. There were twenty hundred dollar bills in his hand, along with a piece of paper with Cordy's cell number on it, and a bus ticket to Philadelphia.
"…Thanks, Queen C."
South Philadelphia…two months later…
The man had been heading to his car when it had happened. Some freak with a weird forehead and fangs had attacked him, and no matter what he did to fend him off, nothing would work. For a while, there, it seemed that his time was up, and, as the thing forced him back onto the car and exposed his neck, he begged whatever was up there to watch over his family and his girl.
Before anything could happen, though, the person atop him burst into a pillar of dust.
He looked up at his savior…a kid with shoulder length hair, dressed in a pair of ripped jeans, a military looking black jacket, and a shirt with Ash fromArmy of Darkness with the words 'This is my Boomstick!' In his hand was a wooden stake.
"What the fuck," he shouted, "What the fuck just happened?"
"You're welcome, Bucket Head," the kid scoffed.
"What was that," he demanded, standing up as he did so.
"A vampire, you idiot," the kid said, "What'd it look like?"
"Vampires aren't real," he responded, though he wasn't as sure as he sounded now.
"You keep telling yourself that," the kid said, "Meanwhile, here in the real world, I'm in need of a bed to sleep in. You know of the nearest hotel?"
He sighed, figuring that the least he could do was give him a ride to a hotel.
"You can come with me," he said, "I'll drive you to the nearest hotel."
The kid paused at that, sizing him up, then, nodded and extended his hand.
"Tommy," the two shook hands, "What're you doing in Philly, kid?"
"Looking for work," he said, "Probably work as a gravedigger or undertaker."
"You interested in death," Tommy asked as he climbed into his vehicle.
"Interested in keeping those fuckers in the ground where they belong," he muttered.
"…That really was a vampire, wasn't it," Tommy asked, somewhat scared now.
"…You gonna tell me anything about it?"
"…Want a job?"
That got the kid's attention.
"What kind of a job," Xander asked.
"Can you take a punch or a chair to the head," Tommy asked with a grin.
He showed him his arm, which was in a cast…the cast looked worn out, and dented, as though he'd hit something with it.
"Vampire do that," the kid nodded, "That must've hurt."
"Hitting it back with the cast hurt even more, but it felt great, too," Tommy had to laugh, even as the kid took the cast off, revealing a fully healed arm, "Good weapon, hard to put back together."
"So, I assume we're talking wrestling here," Xander said, "It ain't for WWF or WCW, is it? I don't wanna be on national TV."
"Nah, we're a small promotion," Tommy said, "We'll get there one day, though…I know we will."
"Why would you offer me a job," Xander asked, "You don't even know me?"
"Anyone who fights vampires for a living must be tough," Tommy said, "Besides, that way, I can find out more about vampires."
"…Ok," Xander said, "I'll take it, if I can possibly get a free place to stay for a while."
"No problem," Tommy said, "You can stay in the arena."
"…Alright, then," he said, "What do you wanna know?"
"Later," Tommy said, pulling up to a large building, "Let me check with my boss. There's a show next week, and we need someone to do a match with one of our guys."
"Cool," Xander said, climbing out as Tommy did, "So, what exactly is this wrestling thing we're talking about here?"
"Well, we were part of the NWA," Tommy said, locking up as he did so, "But, we pulled out and formed our own independent promotion. We used to be called Eastern Championship Wrestling, but now we're Extreme Championship Wrestling."
"Awesome," Xander said.