By Danii
Summary: After
a string of bad jobs, Xander is almost ready to give up on finding something
that both pays the bills and involves more than cooking burgers. Until he goes to a job fair, where he meets the most interesting of
employers…
NOTE: Fulfills
the "Mort Challenge", which I put out a day or so ago.
Distribution: Who
ever wants it, put my name on it and tell me where you put it.
Disclaimers: I
own no one. Xander belongs to Joss,
while Death (and most of this plot line) belongs to Terry Pratchett, (bowing).
Rating: PG13
Ships: Haven’t
decided…
"Why am I here?" Xander muttered to himself as he pushed his way through the new high school’s gym doors, "It’s not like I’m going to find anything good here anyway…"
True, a little voice in his head agreed, but where the hell else have you had success?
Nowhere, another little voice answered with a mental sigh, all you’ve had was a string of low-paying, horrible jobs.
With this thought ringing through his brain, the young man scanned the room. The entire gym was filled with different booths and such, with all of the different types of jobs grouped in their own areas. On the far side, Xander could see the part-time job stalls, while on his right, there were tables set up for those interested in tech jobs. Another area of the gym held secretarial jobs, and…what was that?
It was a stall, all by itself in the far corner of the gym, almost completely covered in shadow. He saw someone behind the stall, obviously waiting for interested persons to walk over, but Xander couldn’t tell whether the person was male or female, or even human. In Sunnydale, the last was entirely possible. Yet, he began to walk over.
As he neared the stall, the figure appeared to be surprised someone had noticed them. With incredibly thin fingers, Xander watched as the figure moved some papers around on the stall. And what an odd stall. All black, with no logo or title on the front of it, it seemed almost unreal. Yet, the figure behind it, which Xander had figured out was male, was definitely real. In fact, the figure seemed more real than anything Xander had ever seen. Compared to this man, if he was a man, the rest of the fair (the rest of the world) seemed positively ethereal. The young man, curious as anything, walked right up to it.
HELLO YOUNG MAN, the figure asked, his voice simply amazing. Xander didn’t really know what was so strange about it. Perhaps it was the fact that the voice sounded more like statement of the future than a voice. Or perhaps it was the fact that Xander didn’t so much hear it as he felt it.
"Hi."
ARE YOU LOOKING FOR A JOB?
"Yeah." Xander said, trying to get a better look at the figure behind the stall. He was wearing a black robe, and he had a dark hood over his head, which blocked the view of his face. In fact, all the young man could really see of the figure was his hands, which were very thin. That was about all Xander could make out about them. No skin color, or shape. Just a feeling of thinness.
AND WHAT DREW YOU HERE?
"I just saw it and decided to come over…" Xander admitted as he swayed back and forth immaturely, "I mean, I don’t even know what you’re looking for, or what job you’re offering, and I wanted to know. I saw nobody over here other than you, and I was curious, so I walked over."
AH. He sounded pleased. WELL, ALEXANDER, I HAPPEN TO BE AN INDEPENDENT…BUSINESSMAN WHO IS LOOKING FOR AN ASSISTANT/APPRENTICE WITH A SHARP, CURIOUS MIND, A FEEL FOR THE WORK, AND A KNOWLEDGE OF MORE THAN THEY REALLY SHOULD HAVE.
Xander took in what the other had said, his mind pushing aside the uneasiness at the stranger knowing his name. An assistant? Well, he could do that. He’d assisted Buffy and the others for years. He knew his way around a library, and he could type. A sharp mind? That he had. He wouldn’t have survived a life on the Hellmouth without that. And curiosity he’d already shown. A feel for the work…well, only time would tell. But knowledge? More than he really should have? Could the man possibly be talking about vampires and such? From the oddness of the figure behind the figure, he suspected that was exactly what the other meant. Which left one thing.
"How about the pay?"
YOU WILL START AT AROUND $1,000 AMERICAN DOLLARS A WEEK, WHICH WILL INCREASE AS YOU TAKE ON MORE RESPONSIBILITY AND BECOME MORE EXPERIENCED, the figure informed him with what was somehow a smile in his voice, THERE ARE PERKS TO THIS JOB WHICH I WILL TELL YOU ALL ABOUT WHEN AND IF YOU DECIDE TO TAKE IT. TWO HOURS OF PURE WORK A DAY, BUT YOU WILL HAVE TO GO OUT TO…CLIENTS AT VARIED TIMES, SO DON’T EXPECT A SOLID BLOCK OF WORK TIME.
Xander stared at the man. A thousand dollars a week? With raises? And perks? Inside of Xander, a shout of joy rang, and a wide smile crossed his face. So what if his employer dealt with the weirder side of Sunnydale? So had he for the last 4 years of his life. And being on call 24/7? No problem. As long as…
AND I WILL PROVIDE YOU WITH TRANSPORTATION…the figure assured him.
He didn’t even think. It was just so great. "You got yourself an assistant!"
Again, the figure smiled, and then held his hand out for a shake, which Xander took with gusto. As he touched the figure behind the stall, the young man could feel something like a shock run up his arm. No, not a shock. A chill. But that chill was lost in Xander’s joy at getting a good job. A good job that would pay the bills, make his parents get off his back, and show the others in the Scooby Gang that he wasn’t just some stupid high-school guy. He was so happy that he almost didn’t notice that a second later, they were outside a small black house in a black stable, with a large dark gray meadow outside.
NOW, the figure said with a matter-of-fact tone, WE’RE GOING TO GET YOU A STEED WHILE I EXPLAIN THE JOB.
Xander looked around at this point, and took in exactly where he was. It reminded him of the beginning of "The Wizard of Oz".
"I knew you were something supernatural…" the young man exclaimed. Then he remembered that the man was his boss. His new boss who was paying him good money. "Not that that’s a bad thing. I know supernatural. Card carrying member of the Slayerette’s for four years now, you know…"
I KNOW, he answered, BUT I AM NOT SUPERNATURAL. I’M THE MOST NATURAL THING, SOMETHING THAT IS PART OF EVERYTHING IN THIS WORLD.
Xander’s eyebrow went up in confusion, but that was put to rest a moment later as the figure took off his hood. Bone. White bone. White bone skull. The thoughts came quickly and incompletely into his mind. Finally, they all came through. He was employed by a skeleton. A skeleton in a black robe, with blue fire in his eyes. Which meant that he was…
I AM DEATH, the figure intoned somberly, BUT PLEASE, CALL ME BILL…
"Bill?" Xander asked incredulously. He’d been expected ‘Damien’ or ‘Azrael’. Even ‘Mr. Death’ would have been okay to his mind. But Bill?
DON’T ASK…Death answered, his cheekbones getting a slight red glow, LONG, BOTHERSOME STORY. BUT I LIKE THE NAME.
"Okay, Bill."
IF YOU DON’T FEEL COMFORTABLE WITH BILL, YOU COULD CALL ME MR.DOOR… the anthromorphic personification assured him, BUT I PREFER BILL.
"Okay, Bill." Xander said again, the mechanics in his head still working on everything. It took a minute, but everything worked out. He had agreed to work for Death. He was working for Death. Death was his boss. He was Death’s assistant. And Death’s name was Bill Door. He could deal with that.
"So, you mentioned transportation?" the young man said at last in what sounded like a rather normal voice to his ears. Death appeared to smile, and the flames that served as his eyes seemed to wink at him.
YES, A STEED AS FINE AS MY OWN… the skeleton answered as he began walking through the stable. Xander followed. BINKY’S YOUNG COLT, INKY…
Xander was about to ask who Binky was, but then they reached their destination, and Death pointed to a pure black stallion that was in a stall right next to an even larger pure white horse.
"That one?" Xander asked, looking at the beautiful black horse. It was huge. The young man could see the muscles bunched in the animal’s body, and he was amazed as he realized just how much power was in those legs. Xander was nearly salivating. True, it had been Willow who had always asked for a horse, but secretly, Xander had always thought that a horse would have been the greatest thing ever. And now, he was getting this beauty.
YES… Death said with a grin on his skeletal face, YOUNG INKY IS A FAVORITE, AND A FINE HORSE. A FITTING STEED FOR MY ASSISTANT, DON’T YOU THINK?
"Yeah…" Xander said, wonder dripping from his voice. Again, Death seemed to smile.
I CAN SEE YOU LIKE THINGS SO FAR. BUT NOW WE HAVE TO GET STARTED ON OUTFITTING YOU, NOT TO MENTION THE TRAINING…
"Outfitting? You mean I get my own personal scythe and dark robe?" Xander asked with a chuckle.
YES. Death answered matter-of-factly, NECESSARY FOR THE JOB. HAVE TO KEEP UP APPEARANCES, YOU KNOW.
"Oh." Xander answered with an embarrassed sigh, which turned to a grin when he noticed Death had a smirk. "So?"
PICK. Death said simply. They were now in a small room, an armory, which Xander thought was just plain cool. The young man wondered if the whole split-second-transportation was one of the perks.
YES, NOW PICK PLEASE.
Xander didn’t waste any time asking how his employer had read his thoughts, and instead got down to doing what he had been told. There, in front of him, was a rack of weapons of all shapes and sizes that would have made Giles salivate. Each of them had a slight blue glow around them that Xander didn’t really want to test. But nonetheless, the young man looked at all of them, until one in the corner caught his eye.
It was old, and made of ebony wood. The edge had been dulled to the point where the blue glow was almost gone, but otherwise the piece looked fine. Xander reached over to pick it up out of curiosity, but he felt a bony hand upon his own, stopping him.
NOT THAT ONE.
Xander was about to ask why, but thought better of it. It would probably make his life more complicated to know, and he didn’t need his life to be any more complicated than it already was. So, he continued looking until he found a shorter scythe made of hawthorn wood, but that wasn’t what made him pick it. The pointed end on the bottom of the wood handle had attracted him.
A PRACTICAL CHOICE, CONSIDERING YOUR HOMETOWN. Death commented, BUT NOW, TO THE TRAINING…
"But I don’t even have a robe!" Xander cried in an attempt to stall. Maybe, he could get to know the horse a little bit better or something. Anything but training, which was just another word for ‘school’.
YOU HAVE A ROBE.
Xander looked down to see himself clothed in a long robe of darkest black. "So I do…"
THEN LET THE TRAINING BEGIN…
"Arg…"
*****
"Oh, please don’t tell me you’re another reincarnation job, because I’ve had three of those today, and they are such a bother…"
The newly dead (and rather petite) Mrs. Michelle Rowena Dowles sucked in the ghost of a breath and puffed herself up until she could actually meet the young man’s eyes.
"Well, excuse me if my death is something important to me, Mr…"
"Harris, ma’am…" Xander answered, his voice having lost the slightly annoyed tone it had had moments before. He understood where she was coming from (kind of) and knew that he really shouldn’t have been that rude. Sometimes, when he got tired and was having a busy day, he needed to remind himself to keep respect for the dead. Especially those he was currently working with.
"Sorry, Mrs. Dowles…" he apologized with an embarrassed sigh, "I understand your position. It’s just been a long day…"
The spirit immediately softened toward him. "That’s all right dear…" she assured him, "We all have our bad days…"
The two of them both looked to Mrs. Dowles’ body, which was lying in a rather unique angle at the bottom of the stairs of her house on Oak Street.
"Yeah…" Xander said with all the tact he had left for the day. There was silence as the two figures waited for the awkwardness to pass, and then Xander asked, "So?"
"Yes?"
"Step this way, ma’am…" the young man said, ushering her gently and politely with the scythe he had just taken her with. And Mrs. Dowles went along, but she stopped a moment before…whatever, and turned to ask him something.
"What’s there?" the older woman questioned, only allowing the slightest bit of fear into her voice. Xander felt sorry for her, but it was her time.
"Whatever you think is there…" he answered gently, "Now you’d best be going, ma’am…nice meeting you…"
The woman looked confused for a moment, but then there was a light, and her face relaxed. She began her walk forward into that light, but before she stepped through, she waved to him. Xander waved back, but she didn’t see, since she was gone. A few moments later, the young man balanced his scythe in the crook of his arm, pulled out small personal organizer, and crossed off something or other inside. Then he stuck the little book back into his pocket.
"Well, that wasn’t too bad…" he said to himself with a small sigh, "At least she didn’t ask me who I was…or go completely wiggy about everything."
Xander paused for a moment to look at the body on the ground. It was a rather disturbing site, though not nearly as bad as the worst he’d seen during his four months on the job, but still bad.
"Yeah, she was a pretty nice lady…" Xander said quickly, "She’s happy. She went to the good place. I’m glad. Now, just one more to go…"
Then he was gone.
*****
"I’m back, guys…" Xander said, running up to where the others were waiting for him. They had been having a snack at the MacDonald’s near the mall, killing time till their good friend finished his business so that they could get down to some serious shopping.
Anya, Buffy, Tara, and Willow all waved at him, and then Anya ran up and gave him a loving kiss on his cheek.
"All right, honey!" the ex-demoness said with a large smile, "Let’s go before the shops close! What took you so long?"
Xander laughed, and a smile whipped across his lips. Anya was such a sweet girl. Strange. As tactless as a drunken Cordelia. But oddly sweet. Xander was glad he had her.
"Just a little work to finish, guys…" Xander explained with a shrug. Then his smile widened and a giddy gleam shone in his eyes "But I’m all done for today, so I’m free to be your pack-horse for a night of spending far too much money on things that will go out of style within a week!"
"Oh Xander!" Willow cried with a giggle, "You can’t say it like that!"
"But it’s the truth!" the young man argued with a roll of his brown eyes.
"But you can’t say it." Buffy said with mock-severity, "It takes out all…"
"Validity?" Xander asked with a curious expression on his face, "Point? Fun?"
"Yes!" Anya said a second later, "So just be a good pack-horse and tell us we all look wonderful in everything we try out!"
"Oh, my pretties…" he said with a mischievous look in his eyes, "Everything DOES look wonderful on you…all four of you…"
All four smiled at him.
"Besides, do you think I have a death-wish?"
This set all four of them laughing, and the only way he got them to stop was to grab each one bodily and place them in his car. His brand new car. The beautiful, black, new car that he’d bought, which had been one of the reasons he’d been picked to take the girls shopping. Not only was he witty and handsome, but he had a large trunk. At least, Xander hoped it was in that order.
Finally, all four of the women that he was escorting calmed down, and the normal discussion started. Well, normal for Sunnydale. Most of it was shoptalk.
"I’m glad we’re all going shopping today…" Willow said as they made their way up and down the rows of parked cars. They couldn’t find a spot, and they’d been looking for a while, but that was the way of shopping malls. However, Xander was getting aggravated, and was very close to use certain…skills to get a spot. No death involved, but some of the space-time manipulations he’d learned how to do would help…
"Huh?" Xander asked, not having heard what the redheaded witch was saying. Something about a spell she and Tara had tried.
The young man’s best friend since childhood sighed, then explained, "I said that I’m glad to be shopping because I need a little bit of a pick-me-up…"
"So shopping is like a drug to you ladies?" he asked with a grin, "I’ll have to file that away for usage some time…"
"No, Xander!" The witch growled good-naturedly, "I need a little bit of cheering up since Tara and my last try at conjuring up a certain crystal we need."
"Crystal?" Xander asked, interested, "Which one?"
"Oh, you wouldn’t know much about it, Xand…" Willow said quickly, trying not to sound condescending. She really did love Xander, but most of the things she did was so far over his head…
"No, what crystal? I’d like to know?"
Buffy and Anya watched in confusion as their friend’s (and boyfriend’s) face changed from one of mischief to one of genuine curiosity (not to mention a little bit of anger mixed into that). Why was he so interested?
"The Crystal of Azarlarael…" Tara said finally, not wanting the slight awkwardness to go any further, "it’s used for-"
"Spirit summoning and communication with the dead…" Xander finished for her in a sort of offhand tone. The Boss had taught him many things, including time-space manipulation and a few useful spells. He needed it for the job since it’s rather hard to carry a horse around with you and one was required for the clients. "I hope you remembered to move the third coefficient four spaces to the right during the calculations. Otherwise, you’ll end up with-"
"A small lump of coal…" Willow finished with an odd expression on her face. Buffy, Tara, and Anya moved from Xander to Willow, taking in both the redheaded witch’s look of confusion and suspicion, and the young man’s expression of nonchalance. Nonplussed was what those three looked like.
"What?" Xander shouted suddenly with a defensive edge, "I have time on my hands, I read up…"
"Sure…" Buffy said.
There was silence in the car as they turned the corner for the fourth time, still searching for a spot, and Xander just lost his patience.
"Third coefficient to the fifth term, with an exponent of 5 times the…" Death’s assistant murmured beneath his breath as they got closer to the entrance to the mall. There…there…put the car here, change the…here we go! "A spot!"
"Oh, good job, honey!" Anya shouted, completely forgetting the oddness of a few minuets ago. The only thought running through her mind was shopping with Xander’s credit card, paid for by Xander’s amazing new job. Now, Xander thought to himself, how to get the others on that track.
"Hey!" he shouted as the car parked, "First one to the door gets to pay for the back injuries I’m going to get carrying all your stuff!"
*****
Xander Harris pulled out his keys and quickly (well, as quickly as his tired hands could manage) unlocked the door to his basement. He was wiped. Totally and completely sucked dry of energy, and as he stumbled through the doorway, the young man immediately tumbled onto the large four-post bed that had become his resting place during the last few months.
With a groan, Xander turned himself over until he could see the high ceiling of his room, a familiar sight for the young man. He enjoyed it much more than the one in his basement, which was covered in damp spots and other unpleasant things, which was why he’d made the small time-space hole that took him directly to his rooms from the basement door. This was clean, neat, and completely his. Well, not really, but Xander liked the person who actually owned it a lot more than the people who owned his basement, even if they were his parents.
That was kinda funny. He like Death better than his own family. Not entirely surprising, considering the Harrises, but still. It…HE was Death. The Pale Horseman. The end. And he still was friendlier than Xander’s parents, not to mention much more fun to hang out with. Yes, Xander Harris was not only the assistant of Death, but a close personal buddy of the bony anthromorphic personification.
"Wonder if the Boss is up for a game of Monopoly?" Xander muttered to himself from his comfy spot on the bed, "And if not, I could ask Albert…"
Albert was something he’d never expected. The old man, who had survived in the timeless realm of Death for longer than Xander could imagine, was rather odd, and had more than a few tricks up his sleeve. Most of the magic he’d learned had been from Albert, with occasional comments and suggestions from Death whenever the old man had started on a tangent concerning the value of fried foods. Yet Xander had to admit, he’d never had a better teacher than Albert.
After Xander’s training, the old man and Xander had become rather good friends, since Albert enjoyed the younger man’s company a great deal. They would play cards, or board games, and occasionally, they would wreck a little havoc on Xander’s old teachers’ hair using some of the more fun spells in the back of the old man’s books. Due to their work, Mrs. Greenleaf the science teacher had a horrible haircut and a phobia of hair-dryers that probably wouldn’t disappear for a good long time.
"Things sure have changed…" Death’s assistant muttered to himself, "And finally, they’ve changed for the better." Goodness, he had so many wonderful things now. A girlfriend who loved him, a great job with people (and while he used the term lightly, he saw nothing wrong in the inhuman) he enjoyed being with that payed well, not to mention a great new horse who was quickly becoming his third new friend.
Yes, Inky was a pleasure. Faster than thought, sweet natured, yet playful as a colt half his age. Inky was very like himself, especially when it came to mischief. The horse had more than once let him step half-way through the floor, seemingly by accident, though the creature always gave away his intent with a giggle-like neighing a moment later. That, and other things. But no matter what pranks the horse played, Xander knew he owed his steed some sugar-cubes and a few apples for all the help that day.
Though none of the girls had seen him, Inky had helped Xander with the bags when they’d gotten too heavy (read too numerous) with all the clothing the girls had picked. Nothing more than carefully holding some of the bags up with his nose, but still…It had been help. It had been enough to get him through till he could fall onto the bed. In fact, the only drawbacks had been the odd looks Willow and Tara had given him all the way through, as if they occasionally saw Inky, but dismissed him as too crazy to be true.
"Well," Xander mused, "They are witches." Witches, the people who could see him and the Boss all the time. The people who could summon him, if they knew the right spell and had the right equipment. Yet still Willow and Tara had fallen for the trap that most of humanity was caught in, a trap he and Death used daily. A trap that was very deep in Sunnydale especially. If people didn’t want to see something, they didn’t see it. Or if they thought it couldn’t be true, to them, it wasn’t.
"Xander!" Albert’s cry rang through the house, pulling his thoughts from his horse (and the mental workings of humanity) to his stomach.
"Ah!" the young man said to himself, "Another chance to see another thing most sane people wouldn’t ever in their wildest dreams fry be fried…and then eat it. Delightful…"
XANDER? DINNER IS READY.
The assistant rolled his eyes. "Ah, the sacrifices I make for friendship and employment…" And with joy, Xander realized that it truly was in that order more than anything else…He just didn’t know how to break it all to his friends in Sunnydale…
*****
"Have you noticed anything…odd about Xander?"
The redheaded witch turned to her blonde significant other who had asked the question with a nonplussed expression on her face. Willow cocked her head, and then spoke.
"No…not really…" she answered, "Maybe a little happier than before, a bit more focused, a bit more intelligent…and he knew that equation for our crystal, which I thought was REALLY weird…but otherwise, not really…"
Tara took this in calmly, then nodded to no one unparticular. She looked like she was going to go quiet again, but then she asked, "So you haven’t felt it at all?"
"Felt what?"
"The…presence he has now…" Tara said with some difficulty. She couldn’t really describe what she was feeling from the tall, dark Scoobie-gang member. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before.
"What presence?" asked Willow with concern for what looked like both her oldest best friend and Tara. The redhead immediately walked over and put her arm around her girlfriend.
"I don’t know…" Tara told her, "It’s like…I mean, he’s always had a presence. A spark. I could always feel a potential for something in him, just like I felt a spark from you. That’s why at first I thought that perhaps he had taken up witchcraft…"
"Xander? Witchcraft?" Willow said with a relieved giggle, "I don’t think so. The one time he tried to do anything with magic, the spell completely backfired on him and caused every woman in town to come after him, madly in love."
Tara’s eyes immediately opened wide and she sat up straight. "And you didn’t think there was a reason for it?"
Immediately, Tara felt bad for the tone she’d used as she asked Willow the question. Even the blonde had to admit that her tone had been a little harsh. Willow, though, simply looked confused.
"What do you mean?"
"Well…" Tara asked, making her voice quiet and loving to make up for her rough tone from before, "Did someone do a spell for him? With something he’d had in his possession that he’d had for a while? Or that was important to him?"
"Yeah…it was a love spell…" Willow answered with an odd expression on her face. Why was Tara interested in ancient history?
"Both of you had the gift for witchcraft, but he didn’t know. Just you!" Tara said, speaking to herself almost, "And now, it’s growing, but there’s something else…"
"What else!?" the redhead asked with a bit of a squeak. If her girlfriend was right about the first part (which was entirely plausible) than she might know what was up with Xander. And why he’d known how to do that equation.
"I don’t know!" The blonde cried with disappointment in herself, "I can’t really tell. It’s like…it’s like Death, but not really. Like a sort of friendly danger. But strong. Really strong. I’ve never felt anything like it before…"
"So?"
"So nothing…" Tara said.
"Nothing?" Willow asked.
"Nothing…" Tara said again, "We can’t do anything about it, and it’s not really our choice. Xander is happy, there’s nothing wrong with him that I can tell, and he hasn’t done anything wrong. Whatever presence is in his life, I know it’s a good one for him, and I won’t interfere with that…and I hope you feel the same way."
"Of course I do!" Willow cried, "Xander’s my best friend. He’s been my best friend since childhood…I just wish he’d tell me…"
Now it was Tara’s turn to hold Willow, and the blonde witch did so with a gentle, yet firm embrace.
"Don’t worry, Willow…he will…"
There was a pause.
"So, now that we know all that…"
"Yes?" Tara asked, still holding her girlfriend.
"Did you see a big black horse following him today?"
*****
AND THE BARTENDER SAYS "WHY THE LONG FACE?"
There was silence at Death’s table as Albert and Xander looked at one another. Death looked at both of them, his flaming blue eyes somehow telling the others that he was embarrassed.
WELL, THE BARKEEPER THOUGHT IT FUNNY.
There was another pause. Then Xander came up with the courage (actually, he had gotten to the point where he could talk without giggling at his employer) to speak.
"Um…" the young man said slowly as he finished chewing some of the fried curry (the creation of which still boggled his mind) and put down his fork, "Was he dead at the time?"
YES.
Albert and Xander shared another look, then the young apprentice took a deep breath.
"Well…"
YES?
"I was just wondering…" he finished lamely. He had been about to try something, try anything, to make Death understand, but he knew that in the end, he would just confuse the anthropomorphic personification. Besides, it wouldn’t stick even if it got through. Death was Death. You really couldn’t change him, and if Xander was honest with himself, he didn’t want to. The young man liked Death...on the close, personal level.
OH…SO WHAT DID YOU DO TODAY? DID YOU PICK UP MRS-
"Yeah, I picked up that lady today before I went on my little shopping trip with the gals…I didn’t forget her."
"Good thing, that…" Albert put in, a smile still on his lips from earlier, "People don’t much like being left near their body for even a smidge! Seems to startle them or some such…"
"I would think so."
INDEED.
"Well," Xander said, finishing the food on his plate, "I can understand. But she was pretty nice for an accident victim. Usually, all they do is complain about whatever killed them…as if the carpet MEANT to kill them…but she was good about it, even when I got a little rude…"
The last brought Death’s gaze upon him, and Xander could feel the edges of his skin broiling. Not physically, but his heart hurt when the Boss looked at him like that.
RUDE, XANDER?
"I was a little…abrupt." The dark-haired young man said quietly, "Not rude, exactly. And I apologized. Everything went fine. It’s just that I hated seeing her body…twisted like that. I wanted to go. And Inky was getting sick to his stomach, and-"
IT’S ALL RIGHT, XANDER… Death assured him, his voice as gentle as that voice could be, YOU ARE ALLOWED TO MAKE SOME SMALL ERRORS. YOU ARE ONLY HUMAN. I WOULD BE FAR MORE WORRIED IF YOU WERE NOT UPSET AT SEEING DEAD BODIES. THAT WOULD BE A FAR GREATER PROBLEM.
"Really?"
TRULY, Death answered, pulling the young man through the house towards the study.
"Why?" Xander asked, having an idea of the answer, but wanting to hear it from his Boss’ lips.
BECAUSE, IN THIS JOB, YOU SEE THE WORST OF THOSE LIVING… Death told him softly as the two sat down in the study chairs, AND WHILE IT IS OFTEN DIFFICULT, YOU MUST KEEP YOUR HEART. KEEP YOUR HEART AND YOUR DUTY.
"Oh."
FOR WHAT CAN THE HARVEST HOPE FOR BUT THE CARE OF THE REAPERMAN?
"I see…" the young man said carefully, readjusting himself in the seat. All the bone and black may look nice, but he preferred the nice comfy leather chair in his own room to the fancy ones here.
As Xander squirmed, Death pulled a book from beneath the chair he sat on. Opening it with one bony hand, he beckoned his apprentice with the other, and Xander came as call. Carefully, so as not to break any of the decorations in the study, the young man moved his chair next to that of his Boss.
YOU KNOW WELL THAT EACH AND EVERY BEING EVER TO WALK…OR CRAWL…OR SWIM…HAS A BOOK. A BOOK THAT TELLS OF THEIR ENTIRE LIFE. YOU HAVE BEEN TO THE LIBRARY, YOU HAVE SEEN THE WRITING AS IT APPEARED ON THE PAGE, AND THE LIBRARY HOLDS ALL THE BOOKS OF THOSE STILL LIVING AND THOSE NOW DEAD.
There was a pause, as if Death was considering what he was about to do, and then he made a noise similar to a sigh and pressed on.
EXCEPT FOR ONE BOOK.
Xander sucked in his breath at the statement. One book. Who could the book be? And why would his Boss keep it out of the Library? It didn’t make any sense…until Xander remembered his first day…and that one scythe in the corner.
THIS BOOK, Death said slowly, IS THE BOOK OF MY FIRST APPRENTICE. HIS NAME WAS MORTIMER, AND HE FELL IN LOVE WITH MY DAUGHTER.
"Daughter?" Xander said, the surprise in his tone blatant.
YES, the anthropomorphic personification doing something close to a chuckle, MY DAUTHER, YSABELL. I WAS WORKING ON A DIFFERENT WORLD AT THE TIME-
"Different world?"
AND, Death continued without answering the young man’s question, THE MAGIC FIELD THERE WAS RATHER BIZARRE. IT RESULTED IN AN ACCIDENT, MADE BY YOUNG MORT, THAT NEARLY…
"Nearly what, Boss?" Xander asked gently. Somehow, Death was amazingly human and yet not at the same time. And somehow, that made him Death all the more. Surprisingly human, and strangely something else.
IT NEARLY RESULTED IN A TWISTING OF TIME SPACE…Death said finally, AND I NEARLY TOOK HIM. I DID TAKE HIM LATER…HE DIED IN A CARRIAGE ACCIDENT WITH MY DAUGHTER, LEAVING MY GRANDAUGHTER ALONE. SHE GREW, AND THINGS WENT ON. BUT I NEVER FORGOT MORT, OR WHAT HAPPENED.
BUT THE ONE THING HE TAUGHT ME, AND LATER SUSAN ENFORCED THE LESSON, IS THAT HEART IS JUST AS IMPORTANT AS DUTY. AND I TOLD YOU THIS STORY SO THAT YOU COULD REMEMBER THAT FACT ALSO.
Xander took this in, and gave Death a solemn nod. He understood. And he knew that while it wouldn’t be too hard, he’s have to make a conscience effort to do what Death had said.
YOU HAVE GREAT POWER WITH THIS JOB, XANDER…Death said at last, AND WITHOUT IT, TRUTH BE TOLD. THE LESSONS I GAVE YOU COULDN’T WORK IF YOU DIDN’T HAVE THE SPARK. YOU WOULDN’T HAVE SEEN THE STAND IF YOU DIDN’T HAVE THE SPARK. SO YOU MUST REMEMBER WHAT I SAY. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?
"I understand…" Xander said, placing his hand upon Death’s bony shoulder, "And I’ll keep what you said in mind…and heart."
THANK YOU, XANDER, his Boss said as he put away the book, stuffing it beneath the chair where it had been before.
"Now would anyone here care for some ice cream?" came a voice from the kitchen with perfect timing, "I gots chocolate and sprinkles and all that for you, boy…"
"Xander!"
"Fine, fine…" came the mumble, "Xander. Bloody silly name if you ask me…Alexander has some ring to it, but…"
"Oh, shut up, Albert!" the young man laughed loudly, "Just shush…"
Death and Xander heard a crusty old laugh from the kitchen, and Xander turned to look at Death one more time.
YOU CAN GO…the Pale Horseman said, I NOW YOU UNDERSTAND. I THINK I CHOOSE WELL AT THE JOB FAIR.
"I hope you did…" Xander said as he got to the doorway, "Cause I think I did too…"