When Words are Not Enough

Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS or SG: SG-1.

Author’s Note: Most of the POV will be through Xander, but I will make scene or perspective changes obvious.

Candy Coated Chaos

Chapter 1: When Words are not Enough

Samantha Carter was a workaholic. That much, she knew. In fact, she would gladly admit it.

Some people would say that her projects kept her from having a life, but she would only shake her head knowingly. Sam was doing what she loved, and there was nothing she felt more passionate about.

After all, it wasn’t everyone whose job involved saving planets, making inter-galactic peace, and averting the destruction of Earth—not to mention that she had solved that whole alternate fuel problem ages ago. Dangerous as it sometimes (well, usually) was, it gave her a type of satisfaction that an average astrophysicist would never be able to grasp. But that wasn’t the way Sam viewed her life.

She knew her importance in her field, in what she did day to day, but she’d much rather concentrate on the numbers than the imminent invasion of her world by whatever enemy the Stargate program was currently facing. Free time, away from a computer or a work board, meant time thinking, truly thinking about the future. Sam had worked hard at making sure that people didn’t know the reason why she kept going twenty hours a day.

She found herself often disliking the idea of leaving the base at all. However, being human, she had to go topside every one in a while. So why not the day before Halloween?

The leaves bright, the wind chill, and the yards of suburbia decorated with plastic tombstones and manmade cobwebs: it was a good time of year. It was a time for memories. Sam smiled fondly, recollecting prank nights and sloppy costumes she’d worn as a child, before her mother's death.

Pocketing her keys, she walked into the candy shop. Yes, Samantha Carter was in the mood for something sweet. It had been way too long since she’d had anything other than a chocolate energy bar, a stick of gum, or a cup of jello. Plus, one of the guards had mentioned taking his kid to the new store while she was signing out. As strange as it sounded in her head, Sam had been drawn to the charming little building.

What was it I use to always bring home before Halloween? Ah, yes, candy corn. She’d binged on that sickeningly sweet treat even in her teenage years, though she was usually partaking while studying, not watching cheap horror flicks like Mark.

Wow, it’s been years since I’ve had any of that stuff.

She gravitated to a wooden barrel, overfilled with bags of the sugary confection. The sound of footsteps brought her to attention, though. Her eyes went up to greet a politely smiling face.

“Why, hello, miss! Candy corn? Excellent choice. . . .”

)o(0)o(

“The Bee Hive?”

Xander was speaking to himself now. He was getting used to that, having spent the last few months surrounded by a large gaggle of teenage girls who seemed to be deaf any time he wasn’t using the words ‘pizza’ or ‘shopping’.

“Who names a candy shop The Bee Hive? I mean, maybe The Candy Jar or Cavity Central or something. . . .” the man snorted, rolling his good eye. Stupid bad guys and their lame creativity. Though, kudos to Rayne for not using his first name again. I guess you can teach an old dog. “So, you’re sure this is the place?”

He waited a moment, glancing down at the cell phone in his hands. Yup, full bars and everything. Yet, silence. “Hello? Earth to stuffy British man!”

“Oh, yes, forgive me, Xander,” Giles’ voice answered. Xander could hear Buffy chattering in the background, obviously trying to recapture her old watcher’s attention. Giles hissed for quiet and turned his attention back to the young man on the line. “As far as my sources are concerned, The Bee Hive is the shop in question. What do you see? Anything suspicious?”

“Like what? Satanic Oompa Loompas?”

“Xander,” Giles warned.

“It looks pretty normal—which probably means that there are demon eggs in the cellar or something equally icky.” Xander glanced across the street again at the small store, snuggled between two of its less colorful clones. He frowned at the ‘Grand Opening’ sign across its Halloween decorated display window. Boy, did that bring back some bad memories. “Sweet, innocent, and deadly, just how the sorcerer likes it. And I bet he has a hell of a clearance rack.”

“No doubt. . . .Though, it’s hard to believe that Ethan would be foolish enough to try opening an establishment again, especially after the Initiative’s supposed rehabilitation efforts.”

“And he was always so original in the past. I guess Hollywood’s right—there really are no novel plotlines left. . . .”

“This is serious, Xander. Halloween is only a day away. Knowing Ethan’s somewhat theatrical talent for timing, we can assume he’s made plans, especially since candy is involved.” Giles paused, most likely recollecting his own unfortunate encounter with a certain candy bar.

The young man sighed, stepping back when a threatening old lady with a cane shoved past down the sidewalk. “Any luck on Riley’s end?”

The New Council had called the ex-Initiative member as soon as rumor of Rayne’s move to Colorado Springs had come to their attention. However, so far, Finn hadn’t been able to gather any information on whether or not the sorcerer was released or had escaped from the government prison that was supposed to be holding him. That alone was somewhat odd and had been the reason why Xander had taken the first plane from Cleveland, leaving Faith to run the Hellmouth with the other Ohio based slayers.

“I’m afraid not. Apparently, he’s been given the bloody run around,” Giles snapped. “You would think the American government would be able to keep up one of their most destructive, magically-enabled criminals.”

Xander smirked, picturing the older man rubbing his brow in frustration. However, a frown soon took its place. “Wait a second. . . . Why can I still hear Buffy in the background? Are you still in London?”

“I’m afraid so. There’s been a slight crisis here—Cleo, one of the younger girls being trained under me, was injured a few hours ago. Don’t worry. She’ll be quite fine after a few days in the hospital, but I missed my flight to New York because of the incident. I’m afraid it will be some time before I make it to Colorado.”

“Do you want me to go in all guns-a-blazin’ then?” Xander raised a brow, a goofy grin on his face. “I mean, raiding a candy store has always been a dream of mine—it’s right up there with the one involving Catwoman in a milk jug factory. . . .”

“You are not to face Ethan, do you understand?” Giles snapped. “You could not possibly defeat him if he is indeed back to his scheming ways.”

“Nice deflating of the ego there.”

“This is not a joke, Xander.”

“Giles. I’m not that naïve. . . .anymore—not that I ever remember being remotely brave enough to go in without back-up. I’m a wait for back-up kind of guy—this you should know. There will be absolutely no heroics, okay. I save that for the Buffster.”

A shallow breath sounded from the other end. “Very good, then. Keep out of sight and be careful, Xander.” Quickly, Giles added, “And don’t eat any candy, for heaven’s sake.”

“Or buy any costumes,” Xander noted.

“Or buy any costumes,” Giles agreed.

“And no letting Rayne buy me drinks, either. . . .”

“And no letting. . . . Xander, do desist.”

Xander’s smile widened. “If that means ‘stop’, then fine. Don’t worry, Giles—I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

“Heaven help us,” the English man muttered.

“See you tomorrow.” Xander ended the call, slipping his cell phone into his pocket.

Jeeze, when did Giles get all paternal on me? Nevertheless, a childish part of him was somewhat happy that the man was worried enough about him to nag; it meant that Giles still cared about his Scoobies, even while his plate was full with the bushels of baby slayers who now needed him.

Xander realized that he should probably get out of plain sight, unless he was actually planning on going one-on-one with Ethan. First though, he took a step forward, foot on the edge of the sidewalk. He strained his eye. From the sign on the door, the shop would be closing in ten minutes. . . .But that didn’t quite make up for the two whole days the store had been open, selling supposedly cursed sweets to unknowing victims.

Think of all the children who have probably walked through those doors, picking up who knows what kind of evil candy—if only we knew what he had planned. Stupid bad guy, once more ruining what, at the tender age of five, I had dubbed the “most bestest holiday ever”. Why, if I could get my hands on Rayne, I’d. . . . Oh, hottie!

Xander tried to hold back the awkward grin on his face, mentally chiding himself for getting preoccupied by the beautiful blonde stepping out of The Bee Hive. After all, he should be concentrating on. . . .Wait, what was he thinking about? Oh, getting away from the shop before Ethan could notice him. Yeah, that was of the important.

However, Xander did the complete opposite, barely checking the road before running across. Contrary to what one would assume, he was not chasing down a phone number or going in kamikaze for a coffee date. No. His interest was directed to the object in the woman’s hand, the small, cone-shaped plastic baggie, more specifically the sugary contents inside.

This is a bad idea. Wait for Giles, back-up. Back-up good—that’s what I said. I should stick with what I say. . . .Oh damn it.

“Excuse me!” Xander huffed, closing in the space, which was, thankfully, further down the side walk and not directly in front of the shop’s very transparent windows.

But the woman was walking toward an SUV, paying no attention to the young man behind her, instead glancing down at the candy corn she was pouring into her palm.

“Crap,” the man hissed. He ran a hand through his hair, gently touching the blonde’s shoulder (years with a slayer has taught me to never surprise a woman). “Madam. . . .”

She turned, head cocked, cautiously stepping out of his range without looking too obvious. A sharp brow lifted, her heart-shaped face curtained in curiosity. “Can I help you?”

“I—well, uh—I was. . . .You. . . .The candy.” Great, Xander. Great time to lose your ability to speak to the opposite sex—what are you, sixteen again? “Well, this is going to sound strange, but. . . . You shouldn’t eat that.”

Xander could tell she was keeping her temper in restraint.

“And why is that?” she asked softly.

This is like that ‘don’t ask if they want a diet coke’ rule, isn’t it. “It’s. . . .” Think, think, think—when did helping people start involving my brain! “It’s tainted.”

“Really?”

“Yes, tainted. Toxic even. Very bad.”

The woman bit her lower lip, nodding slowing. If there was mace on her being, Xander guessed that he would be feeling it if he said another word.

So, wrong approach. Xander didn’t think in the next three seconds; one could tell from his actual actions.

He reached out, smacking the bag from her hands. Candy flew across black-top, most of it rolling down the gutter. For a moment more he stood in stunned silence, the woman before him wearing a slightly confused expression, her body tense in anticipation, waiting for him to make another move.

Xander grinned sheepishly. “Oops.”

End Notes: Tell me what you think (free non-evil candy for reviewers!). A few folks asked about the candy: let’s just say it will be something new mixed with something you’re already familiar with. I’m sure you guys will like it. More on the rest of SG-1 and Xander and co. in the next chapter.