Christopher Angel Presents:

GOD'S TOY
Cycle 2.2 - Odinborn

*** FIRST CHARMS ***

An Oh! My Brother! side story.

A Yggdrasil Production
inspired by:

Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel: The Series
Property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and a whole bunch more people.

_\|/_

Earlier that morning...

_\|/_

Giles frowned at the papers in front of him, and looked up at the people 
assembled before him.  "I'm afraid I don't understand."

They were seated in a room that was formerly the boarding school's teacher's 
lounge.  The room was dominated by a large table which  had likely been 
stolen from a bar somewhere.  The wood was heavy, thick, and dark with many 
layers of varnish, scars in the the  surfaces smoothed out by the resin that 
was pained over it.

Seated to his right was Buffy, and to her right, Dawn.  Further down was 
Andrew, looking nervous, while Willow sat between him and  Xander, who had 
his feet up at the end of the table.  On his left sat Robin Wood and then 
Faith, visiting from their post on the  Hellmouth in Cleveland, and finally 
Father Masado - a rather stoic Japanese-descent Episcopalian cleric who had 
been recruited several  months ago.

Buffy rolled her eyes.  "Do you like them?"

Adjusting his glasses, Giles peered at the papers more closely.  "Well, from 
what I can translate, they're very impressive, but  nonetheless, I don't 
understand-"

"They're for you!" Willow interrupted, exasperation warring with amusement 
on her face.  "A new Casa-de-Giles!"

"F-for me?"

"Xander designed it," Buffy pointed out.

"With my help!" Dawn protested.

"Dawn," Xander admonished with a chuckle, "Willow put my plans into the 
computer and got me the construction permits from the county.   Buffy helped 
with the site survey and all the landscape planning.  You pointed out that 
he'd want a built-in china cabinet for his tea  stuff."

"Well he *would*!"

Faith gave a low whistle.  "You're building G a house?  Damn, Woody, we need 
to push for a raise."

"If you all don't mind?" Giles demanded with some asperity, and glared down 
the table at the young man reclining there.  "I should  have suspected you'd 
be behind this, Xander.  What sort of scheme have you concocted here?" He 
tapped the plans with a stiff finger.   "If you require something to occupy 
your time-"

Xander snorted in disgust, and bestowed a bemused glare upon Willow.  "You 
owe me five bucks, Rosenberg."

"That's all right," she replied smoothly, "you can get it from the Father." 
The priest in question had the grace to look embarrassed  as he handed the 
bill to Xander, who was splitting his shocked gaze between him and the 
redhead.

Reaching over to cover Giles' hand with her own, Buffy said gently, "Giles, 
it's supposed to be a gift.  You've done a lot for us over  the years, and 
we wanted to give you something special."  She grinned suddenly, "Besides, 
we're tired of your complaining about living  with a bunch of 'children'."

As if on cue, Giles took off his glasses and began to polish them with a 
handkerchief.  "I-I'm not sure wh-what to say," he stammered.

Wood leaned over and murmured, "Try 'thank you'."

Sighing, Giles gave a weak smile.  "Thank you."

"Don't worry, G-man, it's not completely for you," Xander added with a 
teasing grin.  "I figure that if I get the trainees helping  out, they can 
learn to control their strength a bit better.  And I'll save a bunch of 
money on labour."  He rubbed his hands together  in anticipation, causing 
Willow, Buffy and Dawn to laugh.

"Quite," the former librarian snapped, his burgeoning good humour 
disappearing in a flash of irritation.  "If we could continue with  the rest 
of the meeting?" he looked expectantly at Robin Wood and Faith.

"Right," the black man reached down beside his chair, and picked up a 
briefcase.  He placed it on the table, opened it up, and pulled  out a set 
of folders.  "Quarterly reports on the activity of the Cleveland Hellmouth, 
including performance evaluations of Kennedy,  Vi, and Rona."  He passed 
these to Giles, who began to peruse them, and then passed short stapled 
summaries around the table.  "As you  can see from Table One-"

"Summary, please!" Buffy barked out, her eyes already starting to glaze.

"This *is* the summary!"

"Faith?" Xander said plaintively.

"Cleveland at its worst is like Sunnyhell in midsummer," she said flatly. 
"It's fuckin' boring.  I mean, sure, we sometimes get some  idiot who wants 
to blow up the world and all, but the total weekly dust count is lower than 
my daily used to be."  She paused and  admitted, "But the place is too damn 
huge to manage on our own, or even with the trainees," she sneered the word. 
"We figure we'll  need eight Slayers to cover it, maybe five if we have as 
much backup as B had back then."

"I guess we're lucky it's not in New York or L.A. then," Andrew concluded 
with a shiver.

"Who'd notice?" Faith countered.

"Is there a problem with the others?" Willow asked worriedly, her mind on 
her ex-girlfriend, suddenly concerned that their breakup, no  matter 
friendly it was supposed to have been, was causing problems for the younger 
girl.

"Kennedy had got dedication to spare," Wood responded quickly.  "She's taken 
to her calling admirably.  I think she's found something  in the fight that 
she was missing in her life."

The dark-haired slayer snorted. "Yeah, like her harem."

"Harem?!" several people repeated, none more shocked than Willow.

"The girl's got a Scooby Gang of like four chicks.  Three are some Wicca 
tripod-"

"Trinity," Dawn corrected.

"*Whatever*, D.  Anyway they help out a bit with the magic side, and the 
fourth's a bull dyke that scares the shit out of male vamps."   She 
shuddered.  "That girl is *sick*."

"She must *love* Wood," Xander remarked with a grin.

"Called me a mysoginistic representative of an archaic conspiracy to control 
and cripple the feminine oppressed coming into their true  role of supremacy 
over the male oppressors," the man in question replied with an expression of 
distaste.  "She honestly doesn't make a  lot of sense."

"Harem?" Willow repeated somewhat shellshocked.

"Yup," Faith chirped cheerfully.  "Caught them in the middle of a fuckin' 
orgy once.  It was sad, to be honest."

"Harem?"

Buffy closed her gaping mouth and glared down the table.  "Willow, stop 
that.  Xander, don't."  He responded with a look of injured  innocence, and 
she pointed her finger at him accusingly.  "No one's buying it, Harris.  Not 
a word."

"But-"

"*Don't*."

Dawn suddenly thumped Andrew, who looked surprisingly guilty.  "I heard 
that!"  He flushed and hid his face in his papers.

"That disturbing revelation aside," Giles interrupted, "I believe it's fair 
to assume that Kennedy is not the issue.  I assume that  you're concerned 
about Vi or Rona, then?"

"Yeah," Faith breathed a bit uneasily.  "The problem is they're too damn 
close."

"They're sleeping together?" Xander asked with some surprise.  "Is there 
something about this mystic warrior thing I should know?   'Cause the way Vi 
was hitting on me, I..." he trailed off at Buffy and Willow's glare. 
"Shutting up now."

Wood shook his head.  "No, they're not.  To tell the truth, I'd feel much 
better if they were.  I believe they've got trust issues -  they really only 
trust each other.  I've seen each one get into a relationship with a young 
man and then cause the it to destruct over  their trust issues.  They've 
shown nothing but suspicion for the people I've assigned to work with them 
as watchers."

"Who did you assign?" Father Masado inquired concernedly.

"Janet McGee and Julian Barker."

"REVEREND Barker?!" Andrew demanded, suddenly jumping to his feet.  "How can 
they not trust him?!  The guy's like Obi-wan, Gandalf,  and Professor Xavier 
rolled into one!"

"Thank you, Andrew, your opinion, however oddly expressed, is noted," Giles 
sighed, and then looked over at Wood.  "Do you recommend  that we bring them 
back here for counselling, perhaps?"  At Wood's nod and meaningful shift of 
his eyes towards Xander, he pulled off  his glasses and started to clean 
them.  "In that case, we'll have to send some trainees out to replace them. 
Buffy, who would you  recommend?"

Her attention taken up with the exchange between the two men, Buffy started, 
and propped her head up with her chin in her hand, elbow  on table, as she 
considered.  "Andrea, easily.  Sandra.  Kate.  Carolyn."  Out of the corner 
of her eye, she saw someone shaking their  head, and turned to see Xander 
expressing his disagreement.  "What?"

"Not the last two," he replied.  "Kate's been accepted to GWU, and I'm 
pretty sure Carolyn's going to head back to Toronto - based on  her hints 
and some new jewelry, I think her boyfriend proposed on her last visit 
home."  He grinned at the furor that caused, and then  unconsciously rubbed 
his eyepatch before continuing.  "I'd say Lori, since she comes from 
Cleveland anyway," Xander countered, and  then added, "and for Andrew's 
peace of mind, Terry."

Andrew flushed deeply and murmured his thanks, and then shrunk under the 
quizzical looks he received.  "She's scary, okay?!  I've seen  Wargs less 
predatory than her.  She wants to make me a notch on her bedpost or 
something."  At Faiths uproarious laughter, he scowled  weakly at her. 
"It's not funny."

"Ooh-kay, bad mental image," Dawn shuddered.  "But he's got a point. 
Terry's a little out of control."  Around the table, various  signs of 
agreement were made, including - surprisingly - one from a red-faced Father 
Masado, and excepting - also surprisingly -  Buffy, who appeared vaguely 
offended.

"Woody and I can break her of that," Faith assured, still snickering. 
"After all, I've been there.  Besides," she added wickedly, "if  she won't 
cool down I'll throw her to Kennedy's harem."

Giles closed his eyes with a pained grimace.  "Speaking of disturbing 
imagery.   I believe we can consider this matter closed, and  move on to 
other concerns?  Buffy?"

"We're running low on practice weapons."

"Hey, I've got 3 guys making those," Xander protested.  "They're working as 
fast as they can."

"Check with martial arts weapon suppliers," Giles suggested.  "They may be 
able to give us a more stable supply.  Anything else?"   Buffy shook her 
head, and he looked to Dawn.  "Archives?"

Dawn looked somewhat excited.  "Between the Library of Congress and whatever 
we can get off of E-bay, we're on our way to replacing a  good chunk of your 
collection.  That guy in Devon you put me in touch with, Sir Robert, says 
he's got a lot of the Watcher Diaries in  electronic form, so once we get 
his latest shipment of copies we should be almost done before classes start 
this fall."  She slumped  in her chair.  "And I get to go back to the easy 
stress-free life of a double-major."

"Andrew?"

The young man in question started as his name was called, and he flushed in 
embarrassment.  "Uh, Lorne's got his new bar open near  DuPont Circle, 
called Caritas again.  He's got Clem working there too," he added as an 
aside to Dawn, who looked pleased at the news.   "I've done a couple minor 
spells - contact, not summonings!" he added at the alarmed expressions 
around the table, "And, uh, I'm  pretty sure that something big is going on. 
A couple of really big players have made some moves - I get references to 
names like  Surtur and Czernobog."

"Surtur?" Xander repeated.  "I've heard that...isn't he supposed to be the 
King of the Fire Giants in Norse mythology?"  He smiled a  bit sadly at the 
impressed look he got from Giles.  "I read up on it once when I was with 
An."  An uncomfortable silence fell across  the table, which was ended as 
Xander cleared his throat.    "Anyway, in Xander-land, I got nothing to 
report.  Well, wait - Buff, you  need to talk to Chilali - she was using 
Abbott and Costello for target practice again."

"Again?" Buffy groaned.  "Can't you convince those stupid birds to move on?"

"Hey!  I like them.  They keep me company, they convince those stupid 
magpies and pigeons to nest elsewhere, and besides, they're  kinda cool."

"They're creepy," Dawn said, with a moue of distaste.  "I'd swear they 
understand everything they hear."

The meeting closed with typical matters, both those of import and not, but 
Buffy's mind was elsewhere, on the exchange between Wood  and Giles.

_\|/_

There was a knock on the door.  "Buffy?"

"Door's open, Will," the Slayer responded.  She was seated on her bed, idly 
flipping through a magazine.

Willow entered the room and closed the door behind her, and sat down on the 
bed. "What's up?"  Closing the magazine, the blonde turned  to face her 
friend, and stared at her with a pensive expression.  "What's wrong, Buff?"

"Did you catch that thing between Giles and Wood today?"  At the other's 
confused expression, Buffy explained further.  "They were  talking about Vi 
and Rona, and how they were going to pull them back to the Academy for 
counselling.  And Wood did this little eye  thing, and I could tell they 
weren't really thinking of me, or you, or Giles, or even the Father, but 
Xander.  Like somehow *he'd* be  able to help them."

Willow chewed her lip as she considered what Buffy had said.  "Have you 
noticed he hasn't dated?"

"What does *that* have to do with anything?"

"I've dated, you've dated, Giles has dated, even *Andrew* has some sort of 
social life," the witch explained.  "Xander spends all his  time here.  I 
think the only time he goes out is with us - and even then he usually says 
he's too busy."

"Not getting the connection here, Willow.  So he's a homebody, what does 
that have to do with it?"

Willow stood and began to pace.  "I think it's all connected," she insisted. 
"He's not been avoiding people, he's really too busy.   He has to stay 
here..." she trailed off and looked Buffy in the eyes, her own wide.

"To look after the trainees," Buffy breathed.  "That's what he's doing, why 
he knows so much about them."

They looked at each other silently for a long moment, and then Buffy stood 
and began to storm towards the door.  "Wait!"  Willow  exclaimed.  "Where 
are you going?"

"To give Harris a piece of my mind!"  She slapped the door, the sound 
snapping like a gunshot, and leaned against it.  "He can't do  this, Will! 
He's given too much - his eye, his parents, his girl, and almost his life. 
I'm not going to let him give up his future,  too."

"No," Willow said, quietly but sincerely.  "This is between the blockhead 
and me."  Buffy turned to the redhead with a surprised  glare, her protest 
evaporating against the resolute expression on Willow's face.  With a 
determined step, the witch moved past the  Slayer, a quiet anger rolling off 
her as she stormed through the dormitory and towards the room Xander had 
appropriated for his  woodworking workshop.  Trainees and teachers alike 
scurried out of her way, as Buffy followed behind her with a bit of 
trepidation.

Reaching the room, the doors flung open with little more than a nod from the 
witch, who strode into the workshop and glared at the  woodworker as he 
stood at a device that was essentially an overgrown pencil sharpener, 
forming stakes one after the other.  With a  twitch of her hand, the 
electricity cut off.  With another, the doors slammed shut.

Buffy looked at the door for a moment, and then turned to go for a walk to 
get a handle on her temper.

_\|/_

"Wills," Xander said disapprovingly.  "Backsliding?"

"Alexander LaVelle Harris," she snarled, "don't you *dare* try to lecture 
me.  How long were you planning on doing this?"  She made a  vague general 
gesture.

Hitting the off button for the machine out of habit, he pulled off his 
dust-mask and eye goggles, and laid them on a workbench.  "I  had about 
another hundred stakes or so," he responded, "and then I was going to start 
marking out the work for the construction."  He  grabbed a hanging air hose 
and used it to blow dust and debris off his overalls, and then walked to a 
sink to wash his hands.  "Gotta  admit, not liking angry magicky Willow 
here.  Liking the great lack of black-haired veiny Willow, though."

"Enough jokes!" Willow hissed, stalking towards him.  "When does it stop?"

"Will, is the magic making you loopy?"

"Unless Buffy or I drag you, you don't go to bars, see movies, do anything. 
You haven't had a date since you came back from Africa,  and I *know* you've 
had chances.  You've dedicated your life to this," again she made that 
gesture.  "When does it stop?"

Xander closed his eye, and sighed.  "You win, let's talk."  He unzipped his 
coveralls, and shucked the shoulders off, letting the  coveralls pool around 
his feet, revealing the jeans and t-shirt underneath.  He then walked out of 
the doors and towards the  dormitory, Willow on his heels as he lead them to 
her room, where he pushed open the door and sat on her bed.

"Talk, Xander."  She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, her 
arms crossed under her breasts.

Instead of speaking immediately, he gazed out the window, watching Abbott 
and Costello, his 'pet' ravens, frolic in the sun.  He  rubbed his eyepatch 
again, and took a deep breath through his nose. "You'd be amazed, Will, what 
goes through your head when you think  you're dying."  He looked at her, and 
tapped the patch.  "Kennedy asked me once, you know, if I regretted this. 
If, given a chance to  do it again, I would let her die instead.  I told her 
that to be honest, she wasn't on my mind at the time.  I tried to explain to 
her, what I was thinking, but..." he trailed off, and smiled grimly.  "It 
was a sacrifice, Will.  Something in me, knew, that if I  paid that price, 
I'd know how to win."

"Xander..." she breathed, but he continued blithely, on a roll.

"Caleb called me 'the one who sees', didn't he?  But it wasn't until after 
that I really began to see things, but it wasn't some  mystical thing, it 
was just that I was really *seeing*."  He looked out the window again, and 
smiled as the birds fought over a  colorful string.  "And then in Africa... 
Nine days.  *Nine*.  Remember that Rule of Three thing we saw on CSI?  Three 
minutes without  air, three days without water, three weeks without food. 
Yet I lived.  I sacrificed my life... to myself, to this fight.  When I fell 
from that tree, I took something from it. I *know* things, Will, that I 
shouldn't know.  I know what they need to hear, what to say  when they hurt, 
and I can make it better."

"Who?"

"The Slayers.  Giles.  Andrew.  Dawn.  Wood.  Lorne.  Masado.  You - 
*especially* you. Heck, remember that Illyria chick?  The blue  one?  And 
that black guy she had with her?  Gunn?  The ones who were with Angel?  I 
*knew* what they needed to hear, and when I told  them, it was better."

Willow quickly stepped to him, and took his hands in hers.  "Xander, listen 
to what you're saying!  This doesn't make any sense!"

He laughed bitterly. "Maybe... maybe it's my 'thing'.  Buffy's the Slayer, 
Giles is the Watcher, you're the Wicca, and I'm..." he  shrugged.

"This is insane," Willow insisted.  "You hallucinated, Xander, and your mind 
made things up through the pain.  Yes, the nine days  thing, that's a 
miracle, but the rest of it, it just doesn't make sense!"  She dropped his 
hands, and moved to her computer desk.   "I'll prove it," she muttered, and 
started to load up the library database.  "If this kind of thing happened, 
it'll be in the  archives."

"Why can't it be true?"

"Because you're supposed to be able to walk away!"

"Willow," he said softly, peering out the window to some altercation on the 
lawn.  "As long as you and Buffy are in this fight, I  *can't* walk away. 
Not ever."  He suddenly coughed.  "Hey, Will?  Did we order a tall guy?"

Willow looked up from her computer, and frowned at Xander.  "What are you 
talking about?"

"Because Buff just knocked one out on the back lawn."

_\|/_

Waking up stripped and tied to a chair, featuring a blazing ache in his 
right temple, while a new experience, was not one Chris  particularly wanted 
to repeat.  Ever.

"Son of a *bitch*!  That's the second time in as many weeks!"  He looked 
upward.  "You know, Boss, you get way too many kicks out of  this naked 
thing."

He looked down at himself, noting with a disturbing sense of glee that for 
once, he actually kept his briefs on, and tested the bonds  that held him to 
the chair.  Too strong for him to break, not enough play for him to even 
try, really.  Giving up on his personal  condition, he turned his attention 
to the room, a smallish cell that was probably a bedroom in some 
incarnation.  The floorboards were  raised, proving that a carpet had been 
removed, and had been with that peculiar beige linoleum tile you never see 
in homes, only  schools and businesses.  The room was lit by fluorescent 
lighting behind a locked grating, which showed the plain white walls and 
sturdy wooden door with a metal frame.  No windows, no furniture other than 
the metal chair he was tied to.  Along one wall, his  clothes were laid out 
neatly, each article seperate from the others.

He sighed pensively and tested his bonds again.

"Uh, hello?"

"People who assaulted me and tied me to a chair?"

"Anyone around?"

"Anyone?"

"Beuler?"

"Damn it."

_\|/_

"Anything, Will?"

The Wicca stood up from the small worktable she had, the smell of burning 
hair in the air from the ritual she had just performed.   "He's human, 
Buffy.  Regular guy."

"Regular guys don't appear out of nowhere."

"Simple teleportation spell," Giles argued, and Willow nodded in agreement. 
"It's not that uncommon."

"So he's a witch then!" Buffy concluded triumphantly.

"Warlock," Willow absently corrected, "And no."  She looked over at the 
screen where a hidden camera showed their captive.  "Whoever  this guy is, 
he's got *something* weird about him.  It's..."  She trailed off and shook 
her head.

Xander moved beside her to stare at the screen, before manipulating the 
controls slightly.  "Hey Will, do those markings mean  anything?"

"What markings?" the redhead asked, looking closely.

"On his cheeks and forehead..." he trailed off and blinked his eye rapidly. 
"Huh.  Never mind, I guess."

Willow felt a chill come over her, and grabbed her friend's hand.  "Xander, 
what did you see?"  Her mind flew back to their  conversation, and she 
couldn't help but wonder if this was a part of it.

With his free hand, the young man rubbed his eye patch, and frowned.  "I was 
*sure* I saw something on his forehead and cheeks," he  tapped the 
locations, and then gestured at the screen.  "But I don't see anything, do 
you?"

He was hiding something, and Willow could see it.  There was a look on his 
face, a sharpness that only appeared when Xander was trying  to hide 
something very important.  "Xander, what did you see?" she repeated.

"Names," he whispered.  "Odinborn.  Norn's Brother."  His one eye stared at 
her, and she could see something there, a combination of  grim resignation 
and fear.

_\|/_

The door to the room opened silently, and the same attractive blonde that 
had clocked Chris earlier stepped into the room and glowered  at him.  She 
was shortly followed by another attractive redhead, and a young man with an 
eye patch who seemed almost frightened of  him.

*Well,* Chris thought. *That would be the poor schmuck whose life I get to 
ruin.*  "Uh, hi?"

"Who are you?" the blonde growled.

"Christopher Angel," he responded, and blinked at the double-takes that got. 
"Alright, damn it, what the *hell* is it with my name?!"

"Never you mind that," the blonde barked, although Chris could tell she was 
shaken.  "What do you want?"

Still feeling a little irritated, Chris demanded, "Now, or what did I want 
before you assaulted me and tied me up?"

"Don't push it."

With a nod of his head, Chris indicated the man who was lurking near the 
door.  "I'd like to talk to him."

"Why?"

"'Cause it's sorta between me and him?"

"Tell us," the young man said in a quiet voice.

"Okay," he drawled reluctantly.  "But you're going to think I'm nuts.

"You get that there's Powers, right?  Big incredible cosmic guys that run 
things, make sure everything is going the way they're  supposed to be, that 
everything remains in balance.  Follow?"  At their silence, he continued. 
"Okay, now these guys, as good as they  are at their jobs, aren't perfect. 
They got so worried about this big balance between good and evil, they 
forgot about other  balances, more fundamental ones.  One of those got out 
of whack, see?  But they didn't actually *do* anything about it, they just 
let  it slide.  So the *really* big guys, who normally keep out of things, 
had to step in.

"The balance I'm talking about is the one between man and woman.  Millions 
of years of evolution made each sex have certain strengths  - men tended to 
be dominant physically so he could go out and hunt things, and women 
emotionally and spiritually, so they could  maintain a community, raise 
children, and the like.  But some smart aleck screwed that up, and made a 
bunch of women strong physically  *and* spiritually.  So the balance got 
wonky, to use the technical term."  He paused to consider his words before 
speaking again,  noting that the redhead appeared almost *guilty*.  "So, to 
get that balance back under control, they big guys made a bunch of men 
*spiritually* strong.  Touched by the gods, I guess you might say."

His audience said nothing, exchanging looks of unease and disbelief.

"So you're this Odinborn guy?" the redhead asked, almost desperately.

Chris burst out laughing.  "I *wish* - wait, no I don't, my life's hard 
enough.  Lady, don't you know *anything* about Norse  mythology?   Odin was 
the king, I guess you'd call him, of the Norse gods.  He gave his eye to 
drink from Mimir's well, so he would  know the future.  He had two ravens, 
Hugin and Munin, meaning Thought and Memory.  And finally, nine days he hung 
on a tree, a  sacrifice from himself *to* himself, and in doing so, gained 
great wisdom, and great power."

As he spoke, the redhead got paler and paler, as she backed up to the wall 
with a thud.  She mouthed "no" over and over, shaking her  head as she 
stared with a desperate hope at the one eyed man, who only stood there like 
a silent sentinel, his eye closed.  The blonde, with shaking  hands, moved 
to him, and with a small voice asked, "Xander?"

"I'm the Odinborn," 'Xander' said grimly, and turned opened his eye to glare 
at Chris.  "And you're the Norn's Brother."

Chris blinked, taken aback.  "Woah.  Yeah, I am.  I guess you've got the 
Fourteenth Charm already."

"Fourteenth charm?" Xander asked.

Eyes glazing as he mentally ran through the Edda, Chris recited:

"I know a fourteenth, that few know:
If I tell a troop of warriors
About the high ones, Elves and Gods,
I can name them one by one.
(Few can the nitwit name.)

"You can name creatures of power.  Know things about them that no one else 
knows.  That's the Fourteenth Charm of Odin," he explained.   "Called 
Knowledge.  There's eighteen of them.  You, not being a god or anything, get 
to know nine.  That's what I'm here to help you  with.  A little bit of 
guidance, a little bit of teaching, a few lessons in the ethics of 
reasonably impressive cosmic powers."

"Blah blah and if he misuses them you'll kill him," the blonde stated hotly.

Chris shook his head.  "Nope.  If he misused his powers he answers to the 
Boss, not me."  At their blank looks, he tiredly elaborated,  as if speaking 
to children. "Odin."

The three people exchanged a glance, and through some unspoken agreement 
started to leave the room.

"Hey, wait!  Come on, I've been honest, I've told you everything you asked 
in good faith.  Can I get my clothes please?  I'm *cold*  here!"

The blonde looked to refuse, but Xander walked behind Chris and swiftly 
undid the ropes that bound him, and then quickly walked out  the door. 
Chris began to rub his arms and leg vigorously.  The blonde followed him, 
but stayed as the redhead didn't move, a pensive  expression her face as she 
chewed her lip.  "Uh, Mr... Christopher?"

"Chris.  Yeah?"

"Is there a 'thing' for helping people?"

Chris stopped his ministrations, and nodded.  "A Charm?  Yeah.  First Charm:

"The first charm I know is unknown to rulers
Or any of human kind;
Help it is named,
for help it can give
In hours of sorrow and anguish."

With a sob, the redhead fled the room, and the blonde, a thunderous 
expression on her face, followed, locking the door behind her.

_\|/_

"Are we really going to take this seriously?"

"Neat tonfa, though."

"Only number in the cell phone is some LA number."

"Think it might be related to Wolfram & Hart?"

"This is somewhat direct and ludicrous for their style."

Willow sat in a corner while the argument raged over their visitor's 
revelations, her face buried in her hands.  She felt someone  kneel down in 
front of her, and pull her hands away, to reveal Xander's concerned face. 
"Talk to me, Will."

"How can you be taking this so easily?" she hissed, her face blotchy with 
the affects of her sobbing.  "Don't you understand what he  said?"

"I'm wigging on the inside?" he offered, and then smiled sadly at the angry 
look on her face.  "Buff's not buying this for a minute,  Andrew's convinced 
it's the coolest thing ever, Dawn's jealous, and Giles is practically 
drooling about the amount of research he'll  have, and you're having a 
breakdown.  I don't need to wig out, everyone's doing it for me."  He 
squeezed her hands.  "I'm more worried  about my Willow, here."

"You don't get it," she insisted.  "You heard what he said: *I* did this to 
you.  If I hadn't activated the Slayers, this wouldn't be  happening to 
you!"

"Hey."  He released her hands and cupped her cheeks.  "Willow, if you hadn't 
cast that spell, we'd all be munchies for the First Evil,  remember?" She 
started to speak, but he hushed her.  "Shh.  Xander's time to speak now. 
It's okay.  I'm okay with this.  You heard  him, it's not mighty Slayer 
powers, or mighty witchy powers, this is something different.  This is stuff 
that lets me help, and I'm  good with that, it's all I really wanted."

"But if you didn't..."

He dropped his hands and poked her nose with his index finger.  "Shh.  Stop 
that Rosenberg, or I'll be forced to take steps.  Nasty  steps.  Steps that 
may involve a clever plan that I haven't thought up yet."  She smiled sadly, 
and he grinned.  "Good.  Willow smiles  are better than Willow tears.  The 
Comfortador wins again!  Hey, I wonder if I get a cape now?"  Willow laughed 
slightly, and held his  hands as he continued.

"Okay, serious now.  Will, I know you and Buff have this vision where I have 
to be the normal guy, and in your little plan I'm going  to be able to leave 
all this, find a girl, have the kids and the dog and the white picket fence, 
and you and Buff get to live that  vicariously through me.  And that's all 
really nice, but it's not Xander.  Xander's vision has happy Willow, and 
happy Buffy, and  happy Dawn, and happy Giles.  Xander's even willing to say 
he's behind the concept of happy Andrew, Faith, Wood, Kennedy, and even the 
Deadboy One and Two, wherever they may be, and let me tell you I hope it's 
not here."  He paused as he got his thoughts back on track.   "I *can't* 
leave this, because as long as my Willow, hell, my *family's* part of it, I 
have to be.  And if that means that now I get  a 'thing' like you guys, then 
I'm one hundred percent behind that."  He paused, and cocked he head to the 
right.  "We okay?"

"Yeah," Willow replied thickly.

"Good.  Hey, come on, Wills, this will be fun!  Lots of research and 
experimentation and why exactly am I thinking research is a  *good* thing?" 
Laughter filled the room, and Xander was startled to discover that his 
conversation with Willow had been overheard by  everyone.  "So, uh, what's 
the plan?"

Giles fondly laid his hand on Xander's shoulder as the carpenter stood up. 
"Good lad.  I believe we've agreed that this bears further  investigation. 
Initially, I feel we're best off guaranteeing the veracity of what Mr. 
'Angel' has told us."

"Lorne?" Dawn suggested.

Willow brightened, and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands.  "I can do 
a spell that mirrors his anagogic abilities!"

_\|/_

Chris stared that the blonde before him as she laid out their ultimatum. 
"Let me get this straight.  You beat me up, strip me, tie me  to a chair, 
interrogate me, steal my stuff, and now you want me to *sing*?"