Xander looked at the press people, smiling at them. "I've talked to a lot of people. Including those who vet judges for the law board people and the colonel, who has no idea what makes a good judge either. We have a list of about ten names for about twenty-eight positions right now. So let's hire for the hardest first. These are the ones I'm nominating to take over Supreme Court spots.
"They are federal judges who have at least five years left of service. Two on the list have been state level judges for a few decades and are in their state versions of the supreme court." He waved them in. "These are the five people I'm putting up for new supreme court spots. The press secretary has a briefing sheet on them."
He got out of the way smiling at his choices. They were diverse, from both parties, and a few weren't a choice he'd want but it'd be nicer to the other side so they'd quit complaining. The press talked to them about their names, their training, former service positions, and their party affiliations.
They'd still have to go through a confirmation hearing but they wouldn't be too hard. They couldn't have the supreme court down for too long with only two judges. This got them back up to eight at least. After that, he went back to the office to take off the jacket.
Flag was shaking his head. "I feel like a puppet each time I do that."
"Me too. Or an imbecile." He sat down on a couch. "Think they'll have problems?"
"You tried to balance it so it doesn't look like you're favoring one side." Xander nodded. "It should be all right, Xander. I have no idea what to do if they keep me though."
"Do a lot of nominating." Xander grinned. "They're used to me asking stupid questions."
"They are and I can do the same thing since I know less than you do about some things in the government." He stared at him. "Seven percent cut to the military?"
Xander nodded. "Bridges are expensive. Like fifty, sixty million each."
Rick winced but nodded. "True and seven percent can be trimmed fairly easily. They'll complain."
"They have been. Even before they heard. They decided I'm just a figurehead again."
"You know, you're the one who nominates for the top generals."
"I have no idea who to point at."
"I barely know," he admitted. He grinned a bit. "They refused my rank raise last year. Even though it was time. Again."
"Because of the task force?" Flag nodded. "That sucks."
"It does. I heard interesting news. You're missing an eye?"
"I have been since just before Sunnydale fell in. Why?"
"None of us knew that."
Xander shrugged. "Has it mattered yet?"
Rick stared at him then sighed. "No, not really."
"I was hoping it wouldn't disgust Christopher," he said quietly, glancing at the door.
"He's at the gym with Deadshot and Bloodsport." Xander nodded at that. "He's not going to care."
"I feel weird taking it out in front of others anyway. I've worn my patch. Even if I do get dirty looks for it."
Rick blinked a few times. "I thought it was an injury or something!"
"Nope." He grinned and popped it out to wave then put it back in.
"Wow." He kept himself from quipping something stupid. "I think you're the first disabled president since FDR."
"I have no idea. Patrick?" He leaned in, then came in. "Am I the first disabled president since FDR?"
"You're disabled?"
"He's missing an eye," Flag told him. "None of us realized."
"You are?" his assistant demanded. Xander nodded, looking smug. "I did not know that. Any others?"
"Missing the two ribs," Rick said.
"My appendix and a piece of bone in my ankle," Xander said. "Had dengue and malaria. My appendix came out but Harley thinks that scar's gross because the hacks at that hospital were really bad that week." He showed that off.
"Mine's like two inches long," Flag said. "What the hell, Xander?"
"They were hacks! They left a clamp in, had to go back in to get it. Had to go back in a second time because of the infection. Left it mostly open but Willow ended up closing it up for me. She used to do okay stitches."
His assistant blinked a few times. "Wow."
"He does his own stitches usually," Flag told him. "Even if he's with paramedics."
"I'm not that tough and I hope I never have to be." He went back to his desk to look that up. "Yes, he is," he called in a minute later.
Rick grinned. "So you're making a lot of firsts happen."
"I am." He grimaced. "I hope no one ever compares another president to me the way we do to FDR and those ones."
"Me too." He stood up. "I'm going to run training for the minis."
"They're in Cleveland. They went last night to go see the new girls graduating to patrol status."
"Awww. So I'll go haze my team. C'mon."
"Let me change." He went to do that and met up again in the gym. "Evening, people."
"Hey," a few called. One new one tried to attack him so Xander beat him until he moaned and gave up. A few of the team snickered at that, including Harley.
"You're an evil dick," that guy complained, trying to sit up.
"Yes, but I'm an evil dick who saves the world and trains a whole bunch of young, bouncy women to do the same thing. Including the minis who're watching the graduation ceremony." He smirked at the guy. "Wanna go again?"
"No," he whined. He stood up, holding his pelvic bone Xander had stomped on. "Damn it." He limped back to his spot in line.
"He's new," Flag told Xander with a grin. Who smirked back. "We'll make sure he doesn't guard you so he can't let someone else have your death."
"No, I fully intend to die in a battle. Or in bed. One of the two."
Harley stared at him. "We've tried." Xander grinned and blew a kiss at her. "You've got more stamina than you should."
"Yell at Anya's ghost for that. Or a pack of succuba that needed saved in Uganda."
Harley moaned, shaking her head. "Wow. Though yeah, I blame Anya for it." She shook her head again. She looked up. "They're talking about the original team on the news."
"Did they find Oz? Is he still in Tibet?"
"He was. They talked to him outside the temple so they wouldn't draw attention to them. They asked specifically to talk to him away from where he was living to protect that temple."
Xander sighed, then smiled. "Is he okay?"
"He's good. He looked okay. Bit older than he should, but good. He said to say hi on the report."
"I'd say hi right back. Did he seem amused at my current residence of hell?"
"Yup." She smirked and nodded a bit. "He laughed, they had to edit some of it out."
"Me too but they'd think I was hysterical and sedate me. They promised to if they thought I was going to turn evil." He stretched his arms. "Any other good news?"
"They found Dawn."
"I knew where Dawn was most of the time."
"She's good. She's safe. Looks nice. Was happy enough. Had a boyfriend."
Xander smirked. "I threatened Bobby last year." He smirked at a few others. "I'm so glad she got a nicer boy than her crush on me would've pointed at. And totally mundane. Though an agent. We had a *talk*." He grinned. "I wonder if he told her."
"They asked if anyone in the group had met her boyfriend and she laughed, then said he said you had threatened him." Harley walked over and tried to stab him with a grin. "Always be on guard."
He smirked, having caught her hand. "If you wanna stab me, we've got sex toys. I did inherit them from Anya. There's enough there for a whole museum collection." He kissed her, pulling her closer then around to put the knife against her throat, making her moan and shift. He positioned her so she was leaned back and off balance. "What now, Princess of Hairdye?"
She struggled but couldn't get free without falling. "I ask for help?" she guessed. "Rick!"
He laughed. "Kick, Harley. Or claw back." She tried that but Xander pulled her further off balance for getting his thigh with her claws. "What's your next move, Xander?"
He smirked. "The minis would want me to propose but instead I have her birthday present. Because she's not into rings." He pulled it out of his pocket and used his teeth to open it then draped it over her neck. He let her go, letting her catch it to look at. She moaned, looking at him. He shrugged but grinned a bit. "Happy birthday this weekend. We're going to Camp David. So we'll even have woods to celebrate in."
She put on the necklace with the two birthstones and came over to kiss him. "I love you. You're goofy." She kneed him in the balls, making him wince. "But I'll get you back for that."
"Promises, promises," he quipped with an evil look. She shivered, moaning as she walked off. "Okay. Now that my mushy moment for the day is done...." He grinned at the two newbies to the squad. "Is it pick on the new guys day, Colonel? I could use the stress relief before I have to read more judge's decisions to find a few more."
"Got two picked, one for the top spot, one for a lower one," Harley quipped.
"Oh, princess. Thank you!" He hugged her. "Thank you! You saved my sanity."
"I know. What little of it is left is precious and owned by the minis." She poked him. "Get off. No PDA in front of the squad."
He smirked at her. "You sure?"
"Very."
"You know, you saying that means we'll end up having someone capturing us together and we'll have to fight naked."
"Eww. No. Gotta have at least panties. Things get up there if you don't have panties."
"True." The last few came in. "We're going to Camp David this weekend."
"That's fine." Peacemaker looked at the necklace. "That's pretty."
"It's my birthday present. He totally got me in a neck hold."
"Awww." He grinned. "It's pretty." She put it into her pocket and they attacked the newbies to make sure they were good enough. They weren't. One begged to go back to jail by the end. The other was whining about them being mean and him being the big, bad assassin sort.
Deadshot looked at him. "Man, shut the fuck up! They got me for over thirty kills. They got DuBois for probably twenty, and missed a few on each of us. You got picked up to take our old asses' place and barely had four!"
"I had over ten!" he complained, getting up.
"Dude, I've killed whole militias," Xander said dryly. "And not for pay but because it was necessary and they were in the way by threatening my slayers in Africa. You've had *four*?" The man slumped, staring at him. He looked at Rick. Who shrugged. "Slim pickings?"
"Not my call. Someone else picked them for the task force."
Xander nodded. "I get that. We did the same thing with judge candidates." He walked off. "I'm hearing the siren's call of someone's getting into trouble because I can hear someone screaming on the lawn. Let me go fix that."
"Guys," Flag ordered with a point. They went to fix it for Xander.
"She could be a victim," Xander called as they ran past him. He made it out there and stared at the demon who was ranting. "What? You're taking me from stress relief time by flirting while sparring."
Peacemaker looked at him. "Flirt outside the gym. I'm not the jock who'd use the equipment that way, Xander."
"Fine." He grinned at the demon again.
"You asked for those who would hate us!" she complained.
"I have to make sure it doesn't look like I'm intentionally packing the judicial branches. I have to look like I'm picking impartial people." The demoness stared at him. "I do!"
"I..." She scowled. "They could harm us."
"There's nine of them. Majority wins. Are the others going to let him have a majority?"
"I do not know." She frowned again. "You did not like the one we sent?"
"The judge bar place won't certify him. They said they can't. He has all the stuff but they're not going to let him sit on more than a federal judge bench because his mom was an assassin hunter. He is on my list for that."
She tipped her head. "They're counting his mother against him?" Xander nodded. "But she was one who took out enemies of the community."
"They know that. I told them that. They said it was noble of her but the top spot has to have less ways to be tilted towards a side. He is on my list for a federal bench. He's in my next batch actually. Him and the one I got from the not so nice lawyers."
"Hileigh?"
"That's who nominated her boss. Which means Wolfram and Hart have a few inches of influence but he's part of a court of three who are protected against magic anyway." He grinned. "It won't help them any as they're in Missouri."
She blinked. "That's almost wicked, Harris." He beamed and nodded. "Well. You have ideas."
"I do have ideas. I just don't shout about them. Especially since half the time I think they're stupid ideas. I was not the school genius and it shows sometimes. Any other big problems?"
"No. I suppose not. You have not betrayed us."
"No, I have not betrayed the community. I wouldn't do that unless you made me." He spotted someone. "Move!" He got the demoness behind him. "Do not come near her. She's here peacefully."
"She's a demon!" the woman shouted.
"So?" Xander shrugged. "You're a human one!" The woman tried to shoot at them but Xander shot her first and Peacemaker got her in the arm at the same time. He looked back at the demoness. "A known hunter?"
"I have no idea." She went to take her picture and send it out. "Yes, she is." She looked down at that one. "I am the head of the Demonic Congressional caucus. You are a blight." She stomped off.
"Get a guard to make sure you make it home," Xander called, glaring at a Secret Service guy. They called their guards and got her home with them. He walked off shaking his head. That woman was under arrest by now. Miserable and under arrest. Xander had more important things to do today than to deal with idiot hunters. Though he could outlaw it again. Make it a harsher sentence.
The guys followed, looking amused. The new guy who tried to kill Xander looked at the colonel. "They elected a Task Force member? I thought being a felon ruled you out."
"He's not. Officially he's Squad-adjacent. In reality, he's dating two of you and he's might-as-well-be but he'll probably not go on missions with us. Though if I need it, he's our rescue team."
"Wow." He stared at the president. "That's... kind of inspiring really."
"Yes it is." They went back to the gym to get back to teaching the new guys to work with the rest of them.
***
Xander stomped into the apartment a few weeks later, slamming the bedroom door as he went to sulk.
The two lovers shared a look then looked that way. "Xander?" Christopher called. "Is it a battle? A sick slayer? Something huge? Should we help you pack to go visiting somewhere?"
"No!" he shouted back then slammed the bathroom door. He came out and threw that door against the wall. "There's *children* that look up to me as a *role model*! They were talking to a few boys who want to be me when they grow the fuck up." Harley winced but got up to hug him. Xander shook his head. "Too soon." He went to beat things in the gym.
"That is horrifying. That means others have to create Willow and Buffy again." He got up. "Let me go calm him down." She nodded. He went to find him, figuring on one of the two gyms. Yup, he was using a staff to beat the stuffing out of a heavy bag. The guards on the door gave him a pleading look. "He found out kids want to look up to him as a role model."
"We don't need more than one at a time," one said quietly. "Really, I'm not sure the world can stand that."
"I was fucking turned into twins at one time and the world survived that!" Xander called from inside the gym.
The guards winced at the sound of something breaking. "Twins of him. Harley would be horrified." He sighed as he walked in, looking at the mess. "Did you throw the heavy bag?"
"No, it fell when I hit it too hard." He sulked. "I'm fine!"
"I can tell. You were twins?"
"Yeah, a mystical troll hammer hit me instead of Buffy. It was kinda freaky. One of me was really confident and the other one wasn't. Anya wanted to have a three-some. It was super freaky but the confident me did get a raise to indoor crew lead."
"C'mere." He waved a hand. Xander shook his head, going to kick the remains of the bag. "C'mon. Let me be the reasonable one. We can go cuddle with the hyena and eagle. Harley can find some way to discourage them. Before they have to create a new Buffy and Willow to help those ones be as warped." Xander rolled his eyes.
"C'mere." He waved a hand. Xander trudged over but let himself be held. "Nicer?" he asked calmly. Xander shook his head. "Is that because you're not used to having hugs?" Xander nodded, looking up at him. "We can fix that. Harley likes to hug." He cuddled him while he calmed down. "Let's go cuddle the pets," he said calmly and quietly. He knew Xander was one mean word away from starting a fight. He'd been there himself. The fight would be brutal and Xander would get mad at himself afterward.
"I'll be fine."
"Hmmm. You are fine. Even if you're discouraged at humanity thinking you're the one to look up to. The guards think we only need one of you at a time."
"I should see if there's worlds where I'm still twins."
"Don't tempt fate, Xander. Can they do that again?"
"It was Anya's ex-husband and he was trying to get Buffy because it meant the weaker one could be killed easier and it'd kill the other one." He looked up again. "Willow put me back together."
"I'm having bad thoughts about you two getting hyped up on sugar and going to cause mayhem and hell for the world." He shook his head quickly. "I can almost see the bar hopping trip of doom." Xander snickered. "And all the working girls who'd have to take a day off from all the soreness you caused." He sighed. "You gave me bad thoughts."
"You gave yourself bad thoughts," Xander said.
"They're about you, you caused them." He grinned. "All your fault for being so wicked." He walked him off. "Guys, he broke the heavy bag and it broke the exercise bike." The guards nodded at that. He made sure they went back to the apartment together, and he got Xander onto the couch with Harley cuddling into one side. Christopher sat down next to them, letting them lean over into his side.
He patted Xander's lap. Bruce hopped up to cuddle them. Eagley sat on the back of the couch to swat her human. He looked back. "What? Out of mice? I thought we had a few in the cage." He looked over. "Want another mouse?" Eagley swatted him again but settled down to stare down at them. It was comforting in a weird way.
Downstairs, the guards gossiped to Patrick, who went to moan and get a bit tipsy. They'd cure that in the morning somehow.
***
"Ms. Quinn?" a reporter called, chasing after her. She had just been out for shampoo and here was a reporter she wasn't allowed to take out. She huffed at that. "Ma'am, you know the president very well. Do you think he might be bipolar?"
"What?" she demanded. "No!"
"He's visibly different when he's in a battle."
"Yeah, we all do that, junior. It's called a battle response." The reporter looked confused. "Also, it's Dr. Quinzel. I worked my ass off to get my PhD in psychology."
The reporter blinked. "You did?"
"Yeah, I did. Him having a battle response step, which all of us in battles have, is a normal thing. Xander doesn't fit near the bipolar diagnosis criteria." She still looked confused though. "Haven't you seen others who have had battles?"
"No," he admitted. "My editor thinks he's got mental illness of some kind or another."
She shook her head. "No. He doesn't fit the diagnosing criteria. He's noble. He's a white knight, a classical definition of one actually. He's a caring guy who sees it as his duty to help the slayers so one little girl doesn't have to save her world."
"We've seen him being upset with himself."
"Yeah, that's a human thing to do sometimes. We all have days when we doubt ourselves or our actions. I've had plenty but may not be the best example. Haven't you had days when you doubted your choices?"
"Well, yes."
"Then why do you think he's any different?"
"He's a public figure."
"Yeah, they made sure of it so we'd all be protected."
"Do we think he'll get to go home?"
"He sure hopes so. So is Flag though." She shrugged. "It'll work out as it does I guess."
"My editor thinks that he's got issues. Maybe something like an OCD thing?"
"No. He doesn't even have rituals for things like food. Why would you think that?"
"He's always rubbing his eye?"
"That's his prosthetic eye and it's probably dry."
"He's disabled?" the reporter demanded, staring at her.
She nodded. "So?"
"But he's the president!"
"So was FDR and he was in a wheelchair sometimes. Again, so?"
"Doesn't that mean he's not qualified to be president?"
"Nothing says anything about a disabled president or VP. And that's pretty asshole of you to think it does." She stared at him, frowning now, one hand on her hip. "Disabled people can do most everything, though it varies by person. Just because he's missing an eye doesn't mean he's unable to handle battles or Congress. Why would you even think that?" He shrank away from her. "Go home, kid," she said with a hand wave. "Before you piss me off greatly and I take you out."
"That would be evil!"
"And I'm a villain," she shot back with a smirk. "You should probably flee." He ran off with his recorder. She huffed, rolling her eyes, then went in to get her shampoo. She'd have to warn Xander that the hateful news people were going to start on that now to try to discredit him. He'd be *thrilled*.
***
Xander looked at the press. "How dare you think that me missing a body part means I'm too disabled to be president," he said firmly. "What hateful bitches and bastards you're becoming over that. There is *nothing* I can't do just because I'm missing an eye. Including be president. Though it did make sure I can put out a bill to up disabled people's rights. No wonder so many people hate you guys."
He took out his eye and put it in front of him. They winced at that. "Yeah, I lost an eye. A major problem that was a minion of the First Evil, the one that sank Sunnydale, popped it because I had common sense that no one listened to. Called me the unseen seer. Thankfully he didn't get both of them, though even that would not discredit me as president.
"I'm sorry if *some* of you don't like that, but fucking yay, people! It's not like I've changed anything due to it. I've been in a lot of battles without it too." He stared around again. "Stop the idiot things that are saying disabled people are weaker. We're a lot stronger because we have to put up with shit like this."
He walked off again. "I'm highly disappointed in that. This is not the US that it should be or the people we should be." He came back to get the eye then walked off again after popping it back in.
The press secretary, who had been next to him, stepped into the spot behind the microphone. "Now that you've pissed off the president so much he never wants to have any of you in the white house again, I guess I get to do a lot less work as there'll now be no more press briefings unless it's about something important. If then.
"The pettiness against him for fixing things is getting out of hand. He's tried to remain fair and balanced through all of it, even nominating judges that have very conservative backgrounds who think kids like him deserve to die. He's tried very hard to live up to not only expectations but also reality.
"He said my job is now only to report briefly on major issues like mass invasions. So I'm sorry but all your press passes are now revoked and the daily briefings may return with a new president." She smiled and walked off, letting the guards handle taking the passes.
"Not all of us did that," one reporter called.
She waved back but didn't answer. It was true but the many would have to suffer because the few had been stupid. But it did mean she'd have an easier time and could fall back to her other part-time job of speech writing for the colonel. They hardly ever gave one but when they did they had to sound better than they were.
***
That night, Colonel Flag was in front of his own press conference. "I agree with him. Even though he did swear at all of you," he noted impatiently. "Just because he's been missing an eye for over two decades now, which means he went through all those battles in Africa without it, doesn't mean he's that disabled that he should be in a special group home.
"Hell, I didn't even realize it until recently when it slipped out to one of his lovers." The press people winced. "I've seen all the battle films they've taken and looking back I see now a few times it mattered and he got injured but mostly, it hasn't mattered at all. And if he had proper backup, he wouldn't have been injured."
He looked around the group again. "I agree with Xander's decision to end press briefings. I'm going to do the same thing. If they somehow manage to keep me against my will, I'm going to keep doing that too. Unless it's something like a major invasion or a huge problem, no more of that. You've lost your good will." He walked off again. King Shark blocked the path from anyone following him. When they left he came in and went to curl up by the pool instead. "Swim if you wanna swim, big guy."
"Cold."
"Oh, that. Let me see if the pool has a heater. If not, the white house one does and I'll send you over there." He went to check then sent him to Xander, who escorted him down to the pool area and made sure it was heated for him. He got to be happy having some water time. Rick sighed in frustration.
He really hated this job. Give him dying on another mission any day over all this shit. But soon! He'd be back at that soon! Though he'd probably have to pick a whole new squad. That would frustrate him for months because anti-heros and villains just weren't going to jail like they used to.
***
"Sir?" Patrick called into the office. Xander had been having a headache today for some reason so he was not going to upset him.
"What?" Xander called.
"The results of most of the primaries last night are in. You're not on any ballots that they noted."
"THANK YOU, GODDESS!"
"The colonel wasn't either."
"Tell him the happy news, Patrick."
"I will, sir, but that's only about five states out of fifty. None of them the bigger ones that'll sway elections by themselves."
"But it gives me hope I can get out of this hell zone." He grinned at his assistant. "I like you, Patrick, but I wouldn't wish this job on anyone."
"I can see that, sir. Are you going to back anyone running?"
"No. I don't like a single one of them running," he admitted. "I think they're all destabilizing morons. If General Kader was running I'd back him."
"It's too late for him to join, sir."
"I know, which sucks. The ones there are all 'I'm going to fix his mistakes' and most of them have decided I'm unable to actually be president because I'm disabled." He smirked a bit. "Most of them aren't eligible to run though."
"That court order did say that they could run for president even outside that civil service mandate, sir."
"Yeah but most of them aren't eligible to run at all." He beamed and found a file then handed it over. "They never went through the correct processes. Only one has and been certified able to run and he's an imbecile. The gun-ho idiot from Texas."
"Oh, dear." He took that to look over. "Oh, dear God," Patrick muttered. "Let me let some people know this, sir." He went to tell the press secretary. Who could slip that into someone's ear. "The president's found this out somehow."
She looked at it. "That's invalidating their ability to run if it's true." She hummed. "Let me have someone investigate this. Someone in intelligence made that file so I'm not sure if they're lying or not." She called someone to meet her for lunch, which was in a little bit anyway. She got to the diner and sat across from them, handing over the file. "Someone in an agency handed the president that. I'm not sure about how good their work is. But if it's right, that's going to throw a wrench in the elections."
"The president's own run wasn't noted."
"He didn't run. Not a single campaign."
"Oh. That's a good point." She looked. "Huh." She nodded. "I'm going to look into this. If it's wrong, then some intelligence source is in trouble. If not, the election is." She smiled. "Thank you for still trusting some of us."
"You, yes. A few others, I wouldn't mind. The rest.... No."
"They think he's working behind the scenes right now to mess up more things."
"He hasn't messed up much. What he's done has created a stable foundation to continue to grow from. He's read a lot on the last days of the Roman empire." The reporter winced. "If something huge happened with the slayer things, people could lean on us without us flaking out like idiots or fighting like toddlers. If Iran's invaded or Quebec, then we're able to go 'this is what we can do' without as much fighting now."
"I hadn't thought about that."
"Or if the slayers lose."
"Or that topic. Now I see why he did that." She scrunched up her face then let it clear up. "They elected him to set up a more stable, reasonable foundation so we're safer."
"Which we are." She grinned. "Between his skills and Flag's skills, we're a lot safer now than we were. The next president is going to have a lot to live up to. And see if you can get a question in the debates about what they'd do if the slayers lost a battle."
She winked and got up, leaving money there for her lunch. Hers she got to go. She needed to go eat with her poor new puppy before the president played it to napping all day. The president couldn't get the hyena to play fetch with him so he had helped train her puppy.
The reporter started her work while she ate. He was right about a few of them. A few had done the official running duties they had to do before announcing any political campaigning. Interesting. She went to get a statement from those camps. "Sir?" she called at one, who was at a speech that night. He looked over. "What do you say about being one of two candidates who's eligible to run because they didn't do the pre-campaign certifications?" she called.
"What?" he demanded, stomping over there. "What now?"
"You're one of two who did the certifications, Senator. You and the guy from Texas."
"Then how are they running?"
"Illegally apparently. Any statement on that?"
"Can I see your facts?" She let him see her research she had printed. "Oh, they didn't." He beamed. "Thank you, ma'am."
"You're welcome, sir. What're you going to do if the slayers lose a battle?"
"Has it been seen?"
"No but it's always a possibility that you can lose a battle."
He considered it. "I don't know. Let me think on that one. I don't have the tactical training to do that so I'd have my advisors doing it with me." He left to tell his campaign staff about that little fact. They were ecstatic because that meant the other ones couldn't run legally. Though one asked about the president's own campaign but they pointed out he hadn't run one. Not one single speech, ad, poster done by his people. That was all done by the underground communities.
***
Xander watched the ad and sighed. Then he decided to rebut that ad. Harley had the idea to put it up on the same social media site, and others. "Hey, guys," he said with a grin and a wave. "I saw the yahoo from Texas's statement that he'd shoot a demon. Well, hate to tell him this but that species on his cardboard cutout isn't going to fall to that.
"They're actually one you have to use colloidal silver to kill and it has to be in the heart. As I doubt he's packing more than cheap ammo with his cut-rate gun that has a lot of issues with locking up, I don't think he'll be able to kill that sort of demon. That takes doing it by hand or a specialty bullet." He grinned and held up his dagger and the bullet.
"These are mine for that species and others that need that approach. There's over three thousand demonic species presently represented on this plane and they're mostly good so wouldn't need killed. Standard bullets will only kill about two percent of them however." He shrugged. "Live and learn I guess." The film cut off.
Harley posted it on her account since Xander didn't have one. She checked back in an hour and found it starting to trend. "Hey, Xander, we should do one where you're teaching gun maintenance. It's really hot."
He blushed at her, then looked at their male one. "We can clean some together. It is very hot of us do to proper gun maintenance. Though it takes more than a minute, Harley."
"I know." She pouted. "So I can have film?" She grinned. They nodded and got stuff. She settled in to record them doing that, including changing cleaning materials back and forth as they needed them. Xander looking at a barrel and blowing up it. Christopher shaking his head with a grin for that move.
Christopher looked up. "Proper gun maintenance is self care." He went back to it when Xander nudged him with a grin. "It is."
"It can be. After this is sword sharpening?"
"I love playing with the swords and your axe." They shared a smirk. Harley cut it off there. They shared a look again then shrugged at her. She squealed and posted it on her youtube channel. Usually she did advice things on it instead.
That trended faster than the other one.
Flag stomped in and looked at them. "The gun manufacturer is mad that you called his gun cut-rate."
"It is. It locks up more often than not," Xander quipped.
"It is," Christopher agreed with a smirk. "Always go with a good name brand gun because quality matters."
"I need to have you post that to go with his," Harley complained. She pulled out her phone again. "Do it again, dear?"
He smirked at her. "You're being a bit evil today, Harley. But yes, I'll repeat what I just said to Colonel Flag. Always go with a good name brand gun because quality matters."
"And have one that fits your grip," Xander said. "Having too small of a grip means you're not solid and it can shift in your hand to throw off your aim," Xander quipped. They looked at him. "I have that problem a lot. I have big hands." He held up one and then put a gun into it. "Bigger grip."
"That's true. Tiny guns can shift and throw off your aim." Harley cut that off with a small squeal and posted it.
Flag sighed, shaking his head. "Guys!"
"The yahoo from Texas," Xander quipped.
"I saw. And growled. Thank you for teaching him better." He stared at Xander. "They're going to try to keep us."
Xander nodded. "Only two are actually certified to run right now."
"I saw that report too." He walked off shaking his head but stealing an antacid from Xander's jar on the desk on the way out. Patrick grinned at him. "Harley's doing social media posts about them."
He got into his computer with a sigh to see them. Then he moaned at one. He sent them to the press secretary, who worked to get them more notice. It was kind of her job. Even if the gun maintenance one was just cutesy of them.
Gay twitter was having a lot of fun with the gun maintenance video.
***
Xander and some of the squad trainees, plus Harley and another guard, were out for a run when a reporter pulled up near them. Xander had a gun in hand by the time they pulled up next to them. "Not a threat!" one called. "Sir, what do you say about being the first gay president? People are saying things about you again."
"I don't care about other people's opinions," he called back. "Don't do that again. And I'm pretty sure I'm bi or pan actually, not just gay." He smirked and waved a hand at Harley. "I do make all my lovers squeal." The reporter blanched at that and they sped off because the other guards got guns out too. He put his gun back with a sigh. "Sorry, they're being annoying again."
"I do squeal a lot," Harley quipped. "Damn do I squeal a lot." He grinned at her and took off jogging again. The rest of the trainees tried to keep up with his stamina. So was she. They had even worn him out last night! "Xander, do we have to do ten miles? I've hiked that far on missions but jogging it is mean."
He grinned. "You can fall out and go back at any time, dear. Flag said the new guys had to do at least ten miles to make sure they could handle it if they had to during a mission."
She moaned. "Who upset Flag this time?" she demanded. "Do I have to hire him a hooker to make him quit being such an asshole?"
"Did that last night," Xander quipped. "She's kinda pretty too."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I called in the mistress service the FBI leans on." He looked at her then smirked a tiny bit. "They have two who're blonde and pale trying to be you but I had him sent a brunette slinky thing."
"Wow." She shook her head, stopping her running to do that. "So damn mean. Flag's going to end them." She sighed, looking at the Secret Service guards with them. "I'm out. Let me go enjoy the fallout from Flag getting hired someone to make him a happier boy." She got taken back to the white house to see how bad it was. DuBois was there already hiding. "Flag taking down the mistress place?" she asked as she walked past him.
"Hell yes," he muttered, reading. "I'm hiding like hell."
"He sent the trainees at Xander to do at least ten miles jogging. Xander hired him the hooker last night." DuBois looked at her. "The FBI keeps them on retainer apparently and there's two there trying to be me but he sent a brunette."
"No wonder he's going off on the agencies today." He smirked and went back to reading. "Have a good soak."
"Yeah I think I need one. Xander's in bad idea land again." She sighed as she walked off. "And I'm sore!" She got a laugh from her teammate for that. She ran into a waiting billionaire. "Hey, Wayne. The colonel made him jog with the trainees for the Squad." She stared up at him. "They're on mile six of at least ten. He'll go until he drops or they do." She went to soak with a sigh. "I'm not even getting to help destroy things today. I should pout."
"What?" he called after her.
"Flag got sent a hooker from the group the FBI uses," she said with a wave back at him. "He's not going to save us any to help him destroy."
"Okay," Bruce Wayne decided with a nod. "Glad I'm out of that destruction's path too." He went back to waiting. It'd apparently be at least another half an hour. An easy jog was an eight minute mile for him. Task Force X trainees probably couldn't do a full ten miles. Plus shower time.
It ended up being over an hour but that was because Xander helped Harley soak for a few minutes too. Bruce Wayne looked up when he heard the squealing going on. "I thought they'd have more soundproofing here," he muttered. "Just in case." He shrugged, going back to his company's stock portfolio management for now.
***
The reporter looked at the camera. "It appears the president is not using the social media posts his girlfriend puts out as part of his campaign as he isn't running one," he said. "Looking at them, they're all in response to the one he calls 'the yahoo from Texas', who is apparently the senator running for president." He smirked a bit.
"Each one answers that one's posts about things he wants to do. When I did call to ask if the president was running, the press secretary said he is not and if they wanted to keep him they'd have to write him in again. Or the Colonel." He looked like he wanted to roll his eyes.
"Though with the last post put up from the Senator, if the Secret Service doesn't arrest him, I'm not sure what use they are. It was a clear and violent threat for being shown up in the area of gun handling and manliness." He looked at his guest. "This is Retired General Kadar. You've worked with the president. Is he making fun of him because he's trying to set him off?"
"Xander probably thinks he's an idiot who's waving a gun around for show. Let's face it, when Texas had a few of those battles with the portal demons, the senator was back there. He didn't step in to help. He hid. A lot. His ex-wife's testimony during their divorce said he hid and locked her and the kids out of the safe rooms." The host winced at that. "That alone proves he's not very protective of the people. As Xander is."
"Is he running?"
"He's hoping to run away from all of this," he said dryly. "It wasn't his idea to run the first time."
"That's true. The underground knew something was coming and elected him."
"Yes, but something's always coming," General Kadar said dryly. "He's hoping nothing soon so he can escape and so is Colonel Flag. I talked to him and he said he'd take it if they did elect him in again, somehow. He didn't want to, mentioned he'd rather traipse through a swamp with people who wanted to kill him as a team. Again apparently."
"Task Force X is still in business?"
"Yes. They've had a few missions in the last year. He'll quietly disappear, go do what needs to be done, then come back. He's still active duty. Which means it sucks that the Pentagon refused his rank increase he was due for the last five years running. It's very political. Which most of us hate."
"He was?"
"Yes."
"Oh." He considered that. "Will that be fixed when he retires?"
"One can only hope it's fixed before then. Because with the way the world is today, that could be in another twelve years."
The host moaned. "I didn't think about that."
"He's thinking about it and thinks an honorable death in the field might save him being known as President Colonel Rick Flag. We're having debates if he is elected do we use his title before or after his rank. Eisenhower never settled that one."
"I think you'd use his position instead like Eisenhower did, wouldn't you?" the host asked, looking confused.
"Eisenhower was retired. Flag's not."
"Point. Have the soldiers around him trained with the mini slayers?"
"The mini slayers get self defense work and that's it. They don't even start identification work until after puberty hits. Then they go back to the main house to work there. Xander's girls are getting a happy, healthy, semi-normal life to grow up in. It's a bit weird sometimes but they enjoy it.
"They skip back and forth for training time with Xander in the white house gym. They get to chase agents around to learn how to chase down a hunt. They learn a lot of subtle things but still learn school things and friend things and get him as an uncle. Plus a senior slayer as house mom and big sister figure. It's good for them."
"I can see that. They are mostly happy girls. Though one will pout greatly."
"She's just like that I'm told. She pouted at me and tried to get me to give her my knife to play dolls with." He smirked a bit. "The girls do like weapons and Xander's shown them what they are and how to be safe around them, but not use them yet."
"That's interesting. Do they pet his swords?"
"Yes. The few times I've seen it, that was the dragon their dolls were riding on."
The host grinned. "My girls would've made it a giant elephant but that sounds like girls." He looked at the camera then at the retired general again. "Do we think the one he's shooting at will make a good president?"
"No." He shook his head. "I don't think he'd be able to handle the tough things or the diplomatic things. We had to teach Xander how to use a formal place setting because he hadn't before, but he did have diplomatic ties with his service in Africa. Flag had gotten the lessons for formal military dinners.
"Xander's on good terms with the diplomats mostly. Two of them can't stand him because he does work with the slayers. A lot of foreign heads understand that both of them have a service and a duty to perform but can't do that on their own. The one in Texas has no training in diplomacy. No training in how to deal with foreign leaders.
"He can't even deal with his own people in the state legislature. Every single one of them has come out to say he's a Texan and they support him for that but not for any other reason or anything he's done. And looking at his congressional record, it's pathetic. He voted down things that would help his own people because his party decided it was a bad thing to do. A real leader would put people before the party."
"True. You would?" The general nodded. "I've heard it said that the president would've backed you if you had run."
"I did run, just the other direction," he said dryly. "I am not meant to lead a government. A group of people, yes. A government full of paperwork and needs? No. That is not my strong suit. Though it's nice he thinks I could do the job the same way he did." He grinned a bit. "I have to say, the president is pushy when he feels he has to be, or when he feels people are in his way to doing his duty.
"He pushed on us a few times to up some things he wanted to be concerned about. He was probably right to do that because in the long run it'll make things easier. Just sitting around talking to him, he's a goofy guy who knows his duty and he'll die doing it. He may not like it some days. I think that's a pretty well felt emotion about battle things. It is with mine."
"Do you think he's seen other things that need to happen?"
"I heard a few of the older slayers once joke about how the First Evil's prophecy called him the unseen seer. Because he saw things with common sense that no one listened to. I think a lot of the fighting at him is a lot of that sort." He stared at him. "Xander's looked at the government as it stands and knew it needed a better foundation, so we're stronger than a lot of others if something happens and we need to be leaned on."
The host blinked. "But...."
"If the slayers lose a battle and it falls to military control to handle it, it's going to be the US military probably. Even if it's not here. We have a twenty-three times bigger military than the next biggest one. Even if they invade Iran, we'd offer to go help.
"The way Congress was running, they'd hem and haw and shout until Iran was no more and so was most of the Middle East then authorize troops. Now, they know they have a job and it is a *job* and they have to do it. They're not getting perks from shouting for longer. They're not allowed to take corporate donations to do that either."
"So that means he made congress work as an actual body to make rules instead of make favors," the host said.
The general smiled and nodded. "Yes, he did. Because he's aware that the slayers could lose any battle. There was one he lost for two weeks. It nearly killed the western horn of Africa before he finally won it." The host winced at that. "He's realistic about what'll happen. And that was with military finally showing up to help.
"He had the right idea of what was needed and it helped each time he made them do that. The third time it ended the battle, the other two it slowed it down and helped pull it back to a tighter battlefield and away from civilians. It cost some lives but it was needed before it spread to the rest of the continent.
"We watched those films ourselves to see what sort of tactician he is. He self trained and it's apparent but he's not bad. Without superior firepower we couldn't have won that battle sooner ourselves and it would've cost the horn of Africa more losses if we had just nuked their asses the way he needed to. But he was saving that for a special event."
"Did he really give his team during those two portal battles explosives to blow themselves up?"
The general stared at him, looking like he pitied him. "They could use it however they saw best but yes. I would've appreciated that. I'd rather go and take them out with me than die to being eaten." The host slumped. "I carried some myself for that same reason. If I got overrun and was going to die anyway, I'd rather take them with me. Or I could use it on the portal, which I did because I made it there. What would you do in that situation?"
"I ...." He swallowed. "I'm not sure I could pull the trigger," he admitted.
"Some can't. Some can. Some of his didn't get to use theirs either. Others grabbed theirs and used it to throw into the masses of demons. To blow up the portals. He was smart to give them a way to not become something's lunch. None of us really want to be an all you can eat buffet."
"No, I wouldn't want that either. I'm not sure what I'd do in that situation," he admitted, frowning. "Then again I'm not sure I could fall into that battle even if had the training you do."
"Some people aren't meant to be soldiers," the general agreed with a smile for him. "It's a wise man who understands himself well enough to realize that. Some are soldiers, some are warriors. Some aren't meant to be either."
"Which are you?"
"Warrior. So is the president and Colonel Flag." He smirked. "He does his line proud. Even if he said his father was mad he got elected."
"His father was a war hero."
"So was his grandfather. His father also ran a smaller, earlier version of Task Force X that was needed for a few missions. The apple didn't fall far from that tree and we're all better for it. Where the president lacks training or tactics, Flag has that covered. Whoever decided on them being a team did a good job balancing out needs."
"Can we blame them for more people swearing? I remember the president swearing at all of us for thinking him missing an eye made him helpless."
"Nope. That's gotten slowly worse since the eighties. All the drill instructors have complained about that fact."
"Oh." He nodded. "Did it impact his battles?"
"A few times if he had someone on that side he wouldn't have gotten an injury. He got that before that final battle in Sunnydale, which was to overwhelming odds. Not many of us could walk into a battle knowing we're outnumbered by sixty-to-one and in a trapped environment like a cave, knowing you had to get seven young fighters to a certain point to bleed on it, then back out. I know he has nightmares about that one still. He's had a few napping on the couch."
"They did?"
The general nodded. "That battle against the First Evil? Yes. That's what they did. They had to go into her domain, which was basically a cave structure, get seven slayers to the altar to bleed on it to trap her again, then run out. The sucking that happened afterward was apparently one of their side who had been used to open it closing it for good by bleeding on the opening."
The host shuddered. "Exactly. Slayers have a shit duty to do. The ones who decide to take it up are to be commended but again, not everyone's fit for that sort of duty. Not everyone can handle staking vampires to end their blood sucking days. Not everyone should be able to handle that. Not everyone should be a soldier or a warrior. Slayers fall into warrior more than soldier though. That's something that freaks out the soldiers among us."
He nodded. "Are there those in the current military that are more warrior than soldier?"
"Yup, and the higher ups hate them for it. They get put into places where their ways are useful but not noted real often."
"I can see that. It might lead to bad ideas with the regular soldiers."
"Oh, we have a talk about that in basic," he said dryly. "Have since the slayers came out." He grinned. "We weed those out and if they want we send 'em at the Council to see if they want to train to be watchers. Some have become good ones."
"That's interesting. Thank you, General Kadar." He shook his hand. The camera cut off and he sighed, shaking his head. "The president actually scares me. He's very intense."
"That's you seeing the warrior underneath. He does it to all of us when we have to see it. But we're thankful we have one instead of the hiding in the basement sort." He got up and left, smiling at the assistant that took his microphone from him. "Thank you, ma'am."
"Welcome, General." The wish demon stared up at him. She was in game face and he realized what she was. "Someone really could prompt him staying if you needed him to."
"Do we need him to?"
She winced but shrugged. "Not sure. No visions doesn't mean nothing's going to happen. It just means those who plan things haven't seen it. But we're really not sure."
"Then I wish the US would survive easily if we do have another huge problem like what got our president elected." She giggled at that and disappeared. He looked back at the host then shook his head as he walked off, warning Xander about that.
Xander got the text and looked up from his desk in the oval office. "If you elect me again, I'm going to hype myself up and go to a demon realm for one last trip through it with my axe," he warned loudly. "Do not even prompt a wish!"
Harley looked up from where she was outside the office to guard him but not get in the way of classified things. "Oh, no," she sighed.
Patrick was wincing but nodding. "Well, we hope they don't upset him enough that he has another fit in the gym."
"Better that than a few other ways." She considered it. "Why doesn't he have a biography?"
"Because he won't talk to anyone who could write one for him," Patrick said dryly, smiling at her. "We asked. He noped out of it and walked off chanting nope over and over."
"Oh, that reason."
"I'm the most boring person alive," Xander called. "No one wants to read about that. Hell, I don't even go out to club anymore. I kinda miss baiting vamps in a club."
"We're too old to get low," Christopher said as he walked up the hallway to join them after his gym time. "You and I are in throwing out a hip range, Xander. We're not young and pretty anymore."
Xander snorted. "You're built like that and say you're not pretty? I've always been bulky and very construction worker or lumberjack, not hot." He leaned out there. "There are clubs that aren't full of college kids."
"Yes but they do things like slow dances at the VFW," Harley said dryly. "Not my sort either, snookums." She grinned. "And you're pretty enough to be with me so quit having the low self esteem, both of you." They nodded, Xander going back to his desk. Then he brought something for Patrick and tossed it down, going back in there. "Bad news?"
"New bill from congress. His post it says 'no way in hell I'd sign this piece of shit'." Patrick put it aside and called someone on the Hill to talk to them about that.
Christopher sat down beside Harley. "You good? You're hiding."
"I'm fine. I'm having a moody day." They shared a look. "The girls are hiding and having a girl day. They thought I was a nice mom figure."
"I guess you are to them. They need the bit of insanity you can teach them to survive."
"Point." She nodded. "That's not so bad. Xander, are the girls okay?"
"One lost her pet gerbil."
"Oh, that reason," she said with a nod. "That's fine. Did they have a gerbil burial?"
"Yup." He came to the door. "I went up for it but you were soaking out your girl mood." He grinned. "Someone asked me if you were having the change already."
"I don't think so." She frowned. "I'm not that old."
He shrugged. "I know enough about them to know what it is and to be scared of it, or to describe it if I have to talk to one of the slayers. How would I know? Even though Willow used to insist that boys would have periods too I never got one." He grinned at the moans from the other two guys. "She convinced the teacher that they should have one. It'd drip out of something. Maybe a tiny hole in our balls.
"She wasn't sure about that part since she'd never seen one. Oz didn't say she looked too hard either." He went back to work. He came back with another file. "Set that on fire and hand it over please. Dumbasses want to end the foster care system and not remake it so it's better for the kids." He went back to his desk.
The two semi-villains shared a look then sighed. The more they heard about Willow the more they weren't sure if she had been sane. Or good for people.
***
Harley woke up with a gasp, staring around. "Fuck!" That woke up Christopher but not Xander. Which was odd. He patted her on the arm until she looked at him. "I got to talk to Willow. She still thinks he's nothing but normal."
"That girl was blind. We're lucky there's not a world where Xander did get given to the Squad." She nodded, laying back down. "Consider it a nightmare, Harl."
"Yeah, it was. I was throttling her when I woke up. She fled before I killed her."
"It's a good reason to be mad." She nodded, curling up between them. They both looked at Xander when he just laid there. He poked Xander. No movement. She checked and nodded he had a pulse. They stared until Xander slumped and sighed then sat up to get dressed. "Big problems?"
"Giles just died," he said quietly, staring at them. "We were having a talk."
"I had one with Willow."
"She joined us eventually to nag that I shouldn't be here. When I told her why she pouted and said you're mean. I shooed her back to her afterlife. Can you guys bring the girls tomorrow? Let me have a few hours to get straightened out the Council hierarchy? Because right now I'm second in command."
"Yeah," Harley said. She got up to give him a hug. He cuddled back. He gave one to Christopher before pulling on jeans and a shirt, then his sneakers. He hesitated over bringing his axe. "Bring a gun," she said quietly. "You may need it to protect the girls."
He nodded. "I may." He did his morning arming and left. It'd hopefully be enough unless he had to grab from the armory. It was a quiet flight back, commercial since he had snuck off. No one bothered him. They didn't really recognize him he guessed. He took a cab to the slayer house and nodded as he walked up to the gate.
The two there sneered. Xander put a hand on the fence and the protections wrapped around him and then went silent, accepting him. He walked through the gateway and stunned those two with darts. "Hey. Long time no see," he said dryly as he walked past them.
Inside two watchers were waiting. "How did you do that?" one demanded with a point.
"Shaman training. Did you think I just quieted down the possessions? No, I'm a fully anointed shaman. Healing, protection, all that. And I'm here to do the rites for Giles then talk to you guys before the girls get here tomorrow." He stared at the one who was technically in charge right now. "Are you going to claim it?"
"I don't want to," he admitted. "I know it's me, you, Henderson, who you darted outside."
"Yeah, he's a dick the last I knew. The slayer bulletin boards have been full of he's a dick complaints."
"I saw. I...." He looked at the others. "They'll hate me in charge."
"They'll hate me worse." Xander smirked at them. "Did Giles change the stated order, carved in stone in the library?" They stared at him oddly. Xander led them to it and spilled blood on it so the spell came up. "Hey, Jacob, we're behind Janus right now."
"Janus is taking over?"
"I'm pretty sure Janus is here in spirit no matter what," Xander said dryly. He said a prayer and that name faded, leaving it with the stated order and Giles' will. They looked at the others. "He did it that way for each head and each of the Sunnydale team. I had to carry Buffy's into the courthouse for her probate." He looked at his, which was split. "Nice try." He activated his and it lit up on the air instead. He looked at them. "Where's Drew?"
"In his rooms," another one said. "Oh, dear. I forgot Rupert had done that. He said he wanted to see it recently, held it a bit, stroked it then decided not to change it." He canceled out Xander's, making him smirk. "Andrew will be fine while you're in DC."
"Jacob will do fine and the girls will complain to me if he's not," Xander assured him.
The man nodded. "True." He looked at Jacob, who grimaced.
"Sometimes we get called to duties we don't like or enjoy," Xander said dryly. "Just ask me about mine so far." A few snorted. "I do not like being president, people. And I don't like being away from my chosen duty. That shit sucks. This shit sucks too by the way.
"I had a talk with Giles on the astral plane. At his calling." He gave one a pointed look. "He realized you helped the cancer along. Really. Though Willow did show up too to complain her trying to tell my girlfriend I'm normal nearly got her choked to a new death."
Jacob burst out laughing. "I can see that. Your girlfriend is quite mean, boy." He looked at the others. "Apparently it's mine now. We'll let Xander do the proper burial rites for Rupert then prepare for the funeral tomorrow."
Xander nodded. "The girls are coming back today."
That got a nod. "He's at the funeral home."
"That's fine." Xander nodded. "Which one? Can a cab get me there?" They all nodded so he gathered what he needed to go do that. It was one run by the local community. The one they had been using closed due to the family dying out. He centered himself and started with the prayers and the washing of the body.
The funeral home's people let him do what needed to be done. Xander spotted one kid and winced but went to wish him well on his next go-round too. He had everything with him to do that. "Was this one fighting an illness? I see a port."
"He had cancer. He didn't last long."
"That made him a warrior due to be blessed." Xander went back to it. Even if the parents didn't appreciate it, the kid's spirit did because Xander got to bow to him and wish him well. He turned and found Giles watching. Giles patted him on the cheek before fading. Xander finished up and kissed him on the forehead.
"You have a good afterlife. Go nag Buffy and snog Joyce," he said quietly. He stepped back, looking at them. "Giles said he's not to be cremated like the slayers. He'll stand guard." They nodded at that. "The same as I will be."
He left, going back to the house. He ran into Faith and hugged her, getting one back. They could handle things with Andrew for now. When the girls got there, he led them into the living room with the other girls, who all looked upset. The littler ones looked confused but did cuddle the upset older ones to make them feel better.
"Ladies, have you heard anything today?" They all shook their heads. He sighed, sitting down in front of the tiny ones. Then he pulled one crying girl over to hug. "It's all right. Giles had cancer, ladies."
"Had?" one of the slayers asked. Xander nodded. "No! Nononononono!" She got up to stomp off but Faith stopped her to hug her. "He can't die! What'll we do now?"
"By Giles' will, Jacob takes over," Xander said calmly, looking at her then at the others. "Then I'm second-in-command and Faith's actually third right now with Perison. Jacob restated the order earlier by text." They all groaned at that. "So I'm still doing my job and my duty to you girls," he told his tiny ones. They all nodded.
"But it's a bit more paperwork for me to do daily now." He looked at the others. "I've already done the death rites I needed to do. The funeral's tomorrow. Unlike the slayers, he's wished not to be cremated. He'll sit in the same tomb but as a guardian. That's what he wanted and what he wrote," he told the crying one. Who nodded at that. "That way no one bothers them in the afterlife."
"So he's running the dead version of the Council in the afterlife. Probably still nagging Buffy about her heels," Faith agreed. They nodded at that, calming down some. "We're here to cuddle and talk to, ladies. Even for the tiniest of you." They hugged them and went to talk with ice cream. It was how slayers got taught to grieve. Faith looked at Xander. "You good?"
"Had a talk with him before I flew up." He stood up. "He was most peeved it happened already. He had lunch in two days with someone he wanted to nag."
She snorted but looked amused. "I get that. Let me go get my own ice cream." She patted him on the cheek before walking off. She came back to look at Harley then at Xander. "I thought you got run away from blondes thanks to B's nagging."
"She's not the usual blonde. Neither one is." He grinned.
"Hmm. Yeah, I can see that. They're good for you, X." She went back to the kitchen to dig into the ice cream stash.
They hugged him and went to help the girls with that. Harley was still a therapist, she could help them process the grief going on. Christopher just gave great hugs so the girls cuddled him. Though he did have to avoid a few pinches that Xander glared at the pinchers about.
***
Rick Flag walked into the white house a few hours later, shaking his head. "He did not run away. One of the Council died," he noted when he ran into the Chief of Staff. That one winced at that. "He did sneak off to go handle the change in command. To do the burial rites Rupert would need."
"The head of the Council died?"
"Yes." Flag nodded. "So he went to handle that. He just didn't leave a note. Harley said she did leave a note on the apartment table."
"A maid found it. It said they had to run to the Council," Patrick said from his desk. "I told him that. Is he okay?"
"Bit sad. Giles was apparently a father figure to much of the Council. He's got the girls there with him."
"That's good." Patrick made notes. "He's got three diplomatic meetings today, Colonel. And one meeting with congress later."
"Reschedule that one for him for next week. Give him time to grieve too. I'll handle the diplomats I guess."
"Thank you."
Rick went in to look at the desk, see what notes Xander had made. He usually made himself a little outline of what he was going to talk about. They were all sitting there. Of course, the big phone rang and he answered it. "It's Flag. No, he's out for a funeral for a few days, General. Problems?" He listened then nodded.
"He left to go to that one, yes. I'm here filling in. I'm sure he has his phone. If not, Harley does. I called her earlier to check to see what was going on." He listened. "That's fine. Let me know if I need to fill in." He hung up and went back to looking at the stuff on the desk. Patrick came in with his scheduling book for the day. "That one hates me." He tapped a name. "I had to take out one of his upper minions last year."
"I've made him aware that you're here and not Xander due to a funeral. He said that's fine." Rick looked up shaking his head. "So maybe you can snark at him too."
"True, I probably could." He smirked a bit. "Thanks, Patrick. If I'm going to be shoved over here, I'm keeping you if you want. Even though this might be my villain origin story"
"I wouldn't mind." He went back to his desk. It was great news.
***
"Patrick, do you have some sort of mind control machine?" Xander called.
"No, sir. Why would I?"
"Because you seem to have left something on my desk that shows I may not be able to escape this hell without killing myself somehow."
Patrick sighed but smiled as he walked in there. "They are trying to keep you, sir. General Kadar's talk with some news person pointed out what you're doing for stability. It appears that it'll be you against the yahoo. Some very extreme people like him."
Xander stared at him. "Are you actually a villain, Patrick?"
"No, sir, and I'm just giving you reports from those who're hearing it from others. If I was a villain I'd want your seat and I never want that."
"You sure? Colonel Flag and I may end up getting hyped up on something and taking weapons to a demon plane to invade so we die a heroic death to spare ourselves four more years. In the old days I could've just used some mountain dew and candy. Now it takes a bit more than that but I can find that."
"They'd stop you from buying that stuff, sir."
"I can have one of the slayers find me something."
"Point. Still not a good idea for the US or the world."
Xander stared at him. Then sighed. "But then I wouldn't be in hell, Patrick."
"Suits aren't really that sort of torture. Though you do have a white house visit coming up." Xander moaned, shaking his head. "And if you are elected, you'll have the balls again." That got a whine. "It's you or the yahoo from Texas, sir. Which do you want."
"No way in hell. Can't we slip in someone? Or give it to Rick?"
"No, sir. He'll take your axe to beat you with it like it was a bat." He went back to his desk trying not to smile. "Do you want that one to win, sir?"
"No!" he shouted. "Damn it! The world may end if he's in here!"
"We all feel that way, sir. That's why we're writing you in."
"Great! Fuck!"
"I'll let them know you're looking for them if you want."
"No. They can't cuddle away the knowledge of all this shit."
"I know, sir." He did send his male lover a text message saying Xander was moaning about them writing him in and it would probably be him versus the yahoo.
In the meeting, Peacemaker looked at his phone. Then huffed. "They're saying it's you two or the yahoo from Texas, Flag."
"Fuck no, the world doesn't deserve that! Even the assholes who still hate slayers don't deserve that!"
He grinned at his boss. "So....."
"Damn it! We need to have a pact to get ourselves out of this." He paused. "I can retire."
"He'll kill you," Deadshot said, looking amused. "Or he'll make himself ineligible somehow and strand you."
"Don't event tempt that thought," Rick ordered with a point. "He does that to me and you're going to be put in charge of the department of education."
Deadshot winced. "I don't think I'm qualified for that."
"So? You'd make education more equal." He stared at him. "I could put you over the navy."
"Eww! Don't threaten me that way! Damn!"
Christopher laughed. "Xander threatened me with being over the head of the Secret Service and Harley over the department of commerce when we laughed at him complaining about being here."
"I can make and handle money, I know very little about education. We'd have to switch," Deadshot shot back.
DuBois shook his head. "I'm not naturalized, he can't do it to me."
"Xander threatened to adopt a girl and make you her personal bodyguard," Rick told him.
"At least she'd probably like to have fun. More than he does."
"He threatened to go club," Peacemaker quipped. "I pointed out we're too old for that. One of us would throw out a hip."
DuBois shook his head. "Don't mention how old any of us are. If we feel too old we'll be slower on the mission." He looked at Rick. "What are we doing this time?"
"A strip club in the midwest is taking people hostage to change them into mutates and slaves. Or we can go handle a warlord that's trying to take over the middle of Central America for them."
"Central America," they all said.
"It's a male strip club," Rick offered with an evil smirk. "Some of you could do that."
"No we can't. The only one of us that probably has experience stripping is Xander and he said he sucks at it."
"He did?" Deadshot asked, looking confused. "He seems too uptight."
"Apparently there was a post-graduation roadtrip and the witch that used to plague him blew up his car in Oxnard. He was working in the kitchen but had to fill in a few times." Peacemaker smiled. "He said he sucked hard at it. Has little rhythm."
Rick nodded at that, then went to yell in the hallway.
"With the way they've probably got us bugged, do we want this to be talked about by others?" DuBois said.
Peacemaker grinned. "Xander will take it out on me by giving me hickeys. He knows I hate them. Or he'll make me wait while he makes Harley loud again to punish me." He beamed. "Can't wait."
Rick came back. "Let's get back to the mission. Before I lose my mind for good and start to laugh like I'm Harley's ex."
The others nodded, getting into the mission details.
***
Harley slid into Xander's lap that night, staring at him. "We can't worry about him. He said he'll be fine. It'll be fine. And if he dies we'll get haunted."
"I'd have to fix that. I am a trained shaman, Harley."
She leaned back to look at him. "You are?"
"I are," he agreed happily. "I learned to control the possession stuff. I am officially noted and trained. From the healing on." She hugged him again. "Thanks."
"If he haunts us, let him. He'll be amused at all the pouting I do."
"You and me both, princess." He stroked her back, letting her worry for now.
***
"Sir, do you give your lovers lap dances?" a reporter sneered.
Xander paused to look at her. "I have better skills than I did at eighteen but no. They haven't asked." He smirked at her. "You know, bugging places is illegal for you."
"I got it from an agent!"
"Then that agent's going to be missing his ass soon. Which agent?" She ran off. "Boys, find out which agent gave her shit they got illegally." He waved a hand. "Before I do."
"You can't torture anyone," another reporter complained.
Xander stared at him then smirked slowly. "You'd be shocked and yes if I have to I can. Did you think I put on the battle skills just for that?" The man shrank away from him. "That's illegal, what she got and the agent doing it. I can and will have her arrested and her source.
"Because that's spreading classified information since that came out during the colonel's last mission prep probably." The agent whined, shaking his head. "Which means they're both in trouble and I'll know which agent it was so I can handle them as well."
"Not like the Secret Service does shit," one of the guards said. He was a new Squad guy, another shooter but not really great because he had some ethics. "We guard him and the colonel more than they do."
Xander nodded. "I appreciate you guys doing that for me too. You guys are good to guard me so the colonel doesn't get inconvenienced that way." He winked at him and walked off again. By the time he got home, his text to Andrew had him sent the bug destroying device so he could ruin all the ones in his apartment. For good. It'd stop others from showing up. Including the one in his phone, which killed the phone. He went to hand it to Patrick. "The bug killer killed it when the bug died." He walked off again.
"I'll get you a new phone, sir." He looked at it, finding the bug in it. He went to talk to the head of the security team. "The president has said that your bug in his phone made the phone die when he killed them all. Isn't that illegal?" He waved the phone. "I have to get him a new phone. Do you have the criteria list for it?" It was found and handed over. "Thank you." He walked off.
The head of the security team called that in. He had no idea about bugs on the president's phone. Didn't that let out classified information? The director of the Secret Service had no idea about that either. Interesting.
***
The head of the Secret Service came to the white house, looking for his team. He found two agents. The usual amount of military guards but only two agents. He went looking for the president. "Where's the security team, sir?"
"One's with the minis while I took a call," he said, looking up from making notes. "He's overseeing them doing leg presses for me." He stood up. "Otherwise, no idea. We have two or three at all times. That's all I have usually. Since the day I had to spank you guys."
"No, you should have a team of eight at all times, sir. Both teams should plus the three on the mini slayers."
"I've had him filing out manpower reports," Patrick said, bringing in the new one. "Here you go, Director. We send this to your office very week the way your predecessor wanted us to."
He looked at it. "You're supposed to have more than this, Harris." He looked at him then at Patrick. "Always?"
"Yes. Also, he had to replace his phone due to the bugs dying in it."
"I killed all the bugs in the presidential apartment," Xander admitted. "We know they had the Squad's last meeting bugged because Chris mentioned I had stripped once and an idiot reporter got told. She tried to pick on me so I let the Squad member I had on guard with me handle her to find out the agent she told. I was just talking to someone about that." He handed over those notes. "I've got to watch the girls do leg presses."
Patrick nodded, following him. They heard screaming and rushed in. Xander hit the guard in there who had a gun in hand. "Ladies, this way," Patrick ordered. "Let's get you to safety. Is someone hurt?"
"He threatened to so we'd be better soldiers," one of them said.
Xander looked at the guy he had hit. "Really? We'll gladly fix that problem." He looked at them. "Has he hurt one of you beyond that? Honestly, ladies?" They shook their heads, staring at him. "Have any of the guards done something mean or said mean things to you guys? They know they're not supposed to and I can gladly go spank them or something if you let me know."
"No," one said, shaking her head. "One of the squad guys said we'd all be like soldiers some day but he was sorry we had that duty. We told him we still got to be girls and he was happier about that. But he did tell us he'd teach us how to survive doing all that stuff."
"I can accept that. I'll make sure they all know they have to be super protective of you guys. Go watch movies with Eagley and Brucie for now. We'll be up in a minute." They went off with Patrick to make sure they were okay. Xander looked down at the agent, who was trying to move away from him. "You were doing what with my minis?"
"They're...."
Harley leaned in and turned on the tv. "I had the security cams rerun up here, sweetie. Let me go help the girls."
"Please. And check on Eagley. He looked pretty sad yesterday."
"Of course." She walked off to go help the girls. Eagley did look a bit tired and weak. Xander and the head of the Secret Service had a long talk with that agent. That was one unhappy director.
When Xander came up, he gathered Eagley with him to go to the zoo. He could sneak around easier than anyone it seemed. Someone tried to stop him so he grabbed the kid's bat to beat him with it. "I may use a sword or an axe now but I did start with throwing rocks and a bat." He hit him again. "You wanna try it again?" The guy whined and shook his head, crying while holding his shoulder. "Good." He dropped the bat and walked over him, grabbing Eagley to carry into the zoo.
"Oh, are you rehabber?" the vet tech said. Xander took off his sunglasses. "Um...do we know you?"
"Yes, dear, I'm the president. Eagley sees a vet around here. If we can see him real quick? He's not feeling too good today."
"Let me call someone." She called the head vet and the director. Eagles weren't allowed in normal hands.
"Mr. Harris," the head vet said, coming in. "Is he injured?"
"Really run down, kinda slow and slumpy." He handed him over. "His human is on a mission right now."
"Okay, we can look at Eagley. I know he's getting pretty old." He took him to an exam room, Xander following. "How's his diet?"
"He had a mouse last night. We let him chase it around the living room. He didn't get real excited but waited to catch it when it came back out of hiding."
"That's very tired sounding." He pulled over his stethoscope. "Can you hold him?"
"Of course. I like to cuddle with him. He gives great hugs." The vet looked at him. "He does. Eagley, can I have a hug? He doesn't believe you're that smart." The eagle crowed and hugged him. "Good boy." He petted him while the vet listened to his chest, frowning some. "Bad?"
"Bit raspy." He turned the eagle around carefully to listen again. "Be easy, Eagley. We're trying to make you feel better." He nodded. "Bit raspy lungs. Has he had some snot?"
"Not that I've seen. I did hear a sneeze but I wasn't sure if it was him or Harley. They sneeze the same way."
"Okay." He checked his eyes with a light then nodded. "It sounds like a mild respiratory infection." He smiled at the worried man. "We can give him some antibiotics for it. Has he had them before?"
"We feed him a vitamin stuffed up a mouse each week. Well, Chris feeds him a special vitamin shoved up a mouse each week. Something to keep his bones stronger he said."
"That's not a bad idea." He got what he needed. "We're going to give a shot now and a few pills to take for the next week. You don't have to make a mouse eat it. You can shove it into some ground meat like a meatball instead."
"Okay, though that's not how he does that." He grinned a bit. "Grossed us out too but he at least wears gloves and stuff."
"I don't need to know that. Though I'll keep it in mind if we need to use that trick." He gave Eagley the shot. "He's a bit thin too. Give him a lot of meatballs tonight. Get him some sun too if you can."
"He and King Shark can hang out by the pool. It's heated and has skylights," Xander said.
"That'll be fine. That shark guy?" Xander nodded. "I didn't know what his name was. Does he see a vet?"
"I have no idea. I haven't asked and his last injury I just bandaged for him."
"Okay. How's Bruce?"
"Being mass cuddled by the minis. One of the guards was mean to them earlier so they're cuddling him while laughing at movies. Harley hates to let them watch monster movies but they really love Godzilla. They laugh and talk about how the bigger slayers take down bigger than that."
"That must be fun for them." He handed Xander the pills, getting a grin for it as they went into his pocket. "Use all those. If he's not better in five days, let us know and I'll come see him. And Bruce so you don't have to talk him into the car."
"Bruce is pretty great. I rented a scooter and took him on a ride with me. He really adored it."
"That doesn't surprise me about that hyena, sir." Xander grinned. "Okay, he should be fine. Make sure he's got good, cold water to drink in case his throat's a bit sore." Xander nodded, picking up Eagley to take back to the car.
The vet went to talk to the director. "Eagley's a bit run down. Looks like an upper respiratory infection so I gave antibiotics. That shark guy is King Shark. The president isn't sure if he's ever seen a specialist vet or a healer or anyone. He said last time he just bandaged his wounds for him but he likes to hang out in the warmed pool at the white house."
"That's good to know. The hyena?"
"Being mass cuddled by the mini slayers while they watch a movie, possibly Godzilla because they think the big slayers would handle it easily."
The director of the National Zoo smiled at that. "That seems like fun for them then. But he'll be fine?"
"He should be fine for a few more years. He is getting old. He's at the statistical age for ones in the wild. In captivity....he maybe has another few years."
"That's fine. They'll let us know. The president's good about helping them."
"That was the president?" the girl who had met him at the door asked. They both nodded. "I thought that one guy, the colonel was."
"He's the VP. That eagle and a hyena are the pets of the president's lovers. That one belongs to the guy they call Peacemaker. They grew up together. The hyena belongs to Harley Quinn, who got him from an exotic trafficker but she did release the others she found so their zoo in Gotham could pick them up."
"Oh," she said then nodded once. "Is that allowed?"
"Special circumstances," the zoo director said. "If not, we'd have offered to take them both in for their senior years."
"The head of the DNR was very amused by that but it'd do more harm than good to take them from their owners right now," the vet agreed. "They're both very bonded and the humans are very good at worrying about them. If there was a hint of abuse we'd have already taken them in."
"Okay." She nodded, making a note for later people.
The president walked out and around the officers. "Guys, he tried to mug me," he said dryly. A few cops glared at him then did a double take. He grinned. "He had a bat, tried to hit Chris's eagle friend." He carefully put the eagle in the back. "There's your perch right under your claws." He wrapped one around it then let him go. "There you go, Eagley." He closed the door and stared at the cops. "I didn't hurt him too badly. Did I?"
"I'm not pressing charges," the guy sobbed. "He's nuts and I'm not pressing charges against him."
"Okay. Thanks, dude." He grinned. "Try one of those job training places soon. That way someday you can talk to kids just like you and teach them how to escape too. They won't listen to guys like me because I'm not from there. They'll listen to you because you are from there. So start something to give the kids an example."
He got into the car, making Eagley yell. "I know. I'll turn on the music in a minute, Eagley." He started the car and turned on the music, some quiet folk music, then drove off carefully so he didn't hit anyone. The eagle liked that apparently. It 'sang' along with it. The officers shared a look and just nodded at that, handling the rest of the clean up and then going to tell others.
***
This Was Not What I Wanted To Be When I Grew Up!