A soft chime rang throughout the office in the Scottish castle, making the mature man at his desk piled high with various documents, papers, and manuscripts look up, glancing at a small side table against the far wall, with this piece of furniture having a bare surface only a few moments ago. Now, however, there was a stack of about a dozen or more notepad sheets resting on top of the table.
His lined face brightening in hopeful expectation, Rupert Giles put down his pen that had just written a large NO! upon a certain Council staff member's expense account (Andrew could bloody well pay for his full five-day admission pass to this year's San Diego Comic-Con out of his own pocket), and pushing back his chair, the man straightened up and then he hurriedly stepped across the room towards the side table.
Picking up the sheets of paper there, Giles quickly scanned the first page, and he breathed an immense sigh of relief at the triumphant words printed in all capital letters at the top: WE DID IT, GILES! GET READY TO BREAK OUT THE CHAMPAGNE WHEN WE COME HOME!
With an actual spring in his step, the head of the New Watchers' Council headed back to his chair, and he sank into it, ignoring the numerous documents on his cluttered desk that currently required his attention. What he was about to read would surely be much more compelling than the dull financial matters that had been taking up his concentration for most of the day. Besides, not only was his son-in-heart clearly safe, but Xander Harris was also obviously successful in his latest endeavor and quite ready to brag about it. Giles now leaned back in his chair, and he started to attentively peruse the message from another alternate reality.
Giles, before everything else, give Wils a kiss (it won't kill you), and tell her that her aim's improving. Yeah, it's a shame that we couldn't save the Nostromo crew or the Marines, but she managed to put me in A2 at a good enough point.
I got there in the hangar, somewhere in the back, just when the wind died down and it got quiet enough for me to hear, "Not bad for a human." Man, my grin almost wrapped around my entire head then, but I kept it together long enough to set off Wils' first inspection spell. It was all clear, no sign of any more of those things, so I peeked out past some kind of hangar equipment, to see three people lying on the floor in the middle of the room.
Well, make that two and a half people. Yeah, Bishop was just in bad shape as he was in the movie, being ripped in two, but he was still working. I have to admit, I wasted a couple of seconds just staring at them, but, really, who wouldn't?
Anyway, I finally called out, "Hey, guys, you okay there?" and got ready to duck. All of 'em jerked up their heads right off and stared at the machinery I was behind, with everybody out in the hangar having their eyes wide open in total shock and their jaws dropping, with good reason. After all, there shouldn't have been anybody else in the spacecraft but themselves and Hicks in the dropship.
I tell you, Giles, it was her that first figured out the most likely explanation, and I have to say, when Ellen Ripley scrambled up onto her feet, putting Newt behind her and standing in front of Bishop peering around her boots, that woman sent towards me the most deadly look I've ever gotten, and yes, that includes all the Sunnydale ladies. To be fair, Ripley had good reason for glaring at me now stepping from behind the machinery, trying to look as harmless as possible. For all she knew, I was one of those corporation guys, just like Carter Burke, who tried to sic a facehugger on her back at the nuked colony.
"Me, friend," I told everyone. "Good guy, here to help you- Okay, okay! At least I didn't say I was from the government!" The weird part was that Ripley toned down her glare a fraction at that last; it seems they have that joke here, too. Who knew? Anyway, I kept on going, "Listen, instead of me trying to persuade you, just let me show you, all right?"
"Show me what?" growled Ripley, pushing Newt back behind her as that kid tried to lean past the woman to stare at me.
"Ah, that'll be part of the show and tell. Right now, um, I know you were pretty busy, but did you see where, er, the other half of Bishop is?" I looked around the hangar at that point, not finding the missing portion of that android, until I heard a throat being politely cleared, and when I looked back into Ripley's face examining me in total suspicion, to then glance down, I saw Bishop pointing his finger at a spot somewhere on my right, under the dropship.
"I believe it's behind the front landing gear. By the way, do you have a name, whoever you are?" finished the individual lying on the floor and sizing me up in utmost curiosity.
"Harris. Xander Harris," I told them, giving a tentative wave at the trio while I walked over to the dropship nose. They all watched me in wary silence as I ducked under the small spaceship, to find, as Bishop had suggested, that his lower body was crumpled up against the landing gear, with its accompanying inner yucky stuff, all covered with milky fluid, protruding from the top of this torn piece of that guy's body. I picked it up (a seriously upchucky moment, that) and got out of there, heading towards where those other three people were.
Ripley backed up a few steps when I got closer, grabbing Newt by the top of her shoulder and hauling her along. I stopped in front of Bishop, and crouched down, to place my load on the floor where it should be, lining it up with the upper half of the android's body and then pushing the lower half forward, making the ragged edges press against each other, and causing him to now regard me a bit dubiously.
"This is most kind of you, Mr. Harris, but for a full repair, I shall require a Mark III restoration chamber, and the closest one of those is in the Solar System," Bishop courteously informed me.
I grinned right into his puzzled face, chuckling, "No, you won't." Still smirking, I looked up at Ripley and Newt staring at us there, totally baffled, which only increased when I started waving my hands in the air in mystical gestures, all while intoning, "See, nothing up my sleeves…."
At the end of that statement, I sent my right hand back into the knapsack I was still carrying, to take out from the correct pocket one of Wils' handy-dandy spells, which looked like nothing more than a white sphere the size of a racquetball, with several numerals from 1 to 4 imprinted at random points on the surface of this small globe.
Reaching out to hold this ball about a foot above the middle of Bishop's body, right at the point where the two halves met, I did exactly what my bestest bud told me to, pressing my thumb against each numeral for a few seconds in the proper order, and then I let go. The ball didn't drop onto the guy's stomach, as anybody would have ordinarily expected. Instead, it hung in the air, and then it began to glow pure white. This glow started to grow, expanding horizontally in a shimmering field to completely cover the front of Bishop, and then it slowly sank, until it wrapped wholly around the android, who hadn't moved at all in his absolute astonishment, just before his face was hidden by the white illumination.
I looked up from this, to grin and Ripley and Newt clutching each other as they stood there frozen in shock, only getting their attention when I counted, "One, two, three, four!" After saying the last words, from out of the corner of my eye, I saw the glow vanish, and along with the two other humans, I looked down again, to see Bishop's incredulity, as he gazed along the length of his now perfectly healed body.
The android started to get up, and as his friends rushed forward to help, I scooted back a few steps on my heels before I also got to my feet. His arms around the pairs' shoulders, Bishop looked down at himself in wonder, before cautiously saying, "Ladies, let me try it by myself," as he carefully freed himself from their grip, to then take a few strides forward, turn around, and walk back to them, all of this effortlessly done by the non-human, as if he'd never been torn in two just a few minutes ago by the Alien Queen.
I was still standing there, hands on my hips and smirking at them, when I then got full-bore looks of grim determination from the adults that meant they wanted an explanation, right now! Until, for the first time since I got there, someone else eagerly spoke.
"It was magic, wasn't it?" excitedly asked Newt, her child's face shining with glorious glee.