FIC: Consultant (AB.BtVS)

[mhalachai]

A Xander as RPIT expert ficlette for the Ficlette Fiasco II. (master list found here)

Consultant
by Mhalachai
Disclaimer: Laurell K. Hamilton owns all things Anita Blake. Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own all the Buffy the Vampire Slayer stuff. I am but borrowing the characters for a brief time and shall return them intact at the end.
Summary: For sparrow015. Follows up to the Xander/Asher ficlette from a while ago, Calling it a Disaster

~~*~~

Xander dropped his head to the desk. His good eye burned from reading too long. It was just like high school again, burning the midnight oil, and just as sucky.

God, if you let me find something in these pictures, I'll be nice to everyone for a month, even Anita, Xander thought. He lifted his head and stared at the pages. Nothing.

A Styrofoam cup slid into view. "Drink this," Zerbrowski ordered as he sat on the edge of Xander's desk.

The coffee was fresh, hot and thick. "Where did this come from?" Xander asked, taking tentative sips from the cup.

"I raided robbery's coffee pot," Zerbrowski said. "We need the good stuff." He rubbed his eyes. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

"No," Xander said, leaning back in his chair. "These murders aren't going to solve themselves."

"Yeah." Zerbrowski looked down at the photographs scattered across the desk. The colour-saturated images were almost a grotesque parody of bodies ripped apart. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Look at this shit and not go nuts?"

Xander shrugged. "Used to be, I'd deal with it until I was alone, then I'd puke my guts out in the bathroom, and go back to work. Someone had to stop the bad guys."

"And now?"

Smiling wryly, Xander reached for the photographs again. "See above response."

A commotion at the far end of the squad room made Xander and Zerbrowski look up. Anita Blake was arguing loudly with Sgt. Storr. Xander could only hear a few words, mostly "guns" and "fire," along with several choice swear words. He never failed to be surprised by Anita's creative destruction of the English language.

"So, are you coming along when we go after this thing?" Zerbrowski asked. "When we figure out where it is, I mean."

"You guys won't let me use an axe, so what good would that be?" Xander quipped, not really kidding. "I'm just the outside consultant, remember? All up with the demonology. Besides, if I go along, Anita might 'accidentally' shoot me."

Zerbrowski snorted. "You two really don't get along, do you?"

"No." Xander drained his coffee and tossed the cup into the garbage. "We're like oil and water... or something equally un-mixy. Maybe even explosive." He stood up. "And it's not like I even..."

His voice trailed off as he stared at one of the photographs. From this angle, there was something about the wounds...

"Venom," Xander said. "That's it! That's why the wound edges didn't bleed as much!"

"Toxicology didn't find any venom in the blood," Zerbrowski said, helping Xander to gather up the photographs.

"I know, but they weren't looking in the right place," Xander said. "Come on, we need to catch Anita before she leaves!"

As Xander and Zerbrowski raced across the room, Xander wondered if this meant he'd have to be nice to Anita Blake for a month. If they managed to stop this thing, he'd at least give it a try.

--fin

Comments

[mhalachaiswords.livejournal.com]

The way I figure it, "demonology" is a term that Xander uses, while Anita would use something like preternatual expert. Or, in other words, I'm trying to retrofit the story :)