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Magical Mayhem	By : Scorpio71 Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > General Views: 1653 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns Buffy, not me. This is for fun, not money.

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- 1-Magical Mayhem
- 1
TITLE: Magical Mayhem
FANDOM: BtVS – several years post ‘Chosen’
CATEGORY: Future-fic, AU
WARNING: Magical bi-gender tranformation
DISCLAIMER: Joss Whedon, not me.
RATING: NC-17 (adult)
SUMMARY: Xander muses on why Andrew is Andrew, and the mess that he created.

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I’m either going to kill Andrew or I’m going to fuck him. I’m not sure which yet. Maybe both.

Why?

It’s a long story. Or perhaps a short one.

The short version goes something like; if your boss tells you that you’ve been working too hard and suggests you take some vacation time don’t ask his opinion of where to go. He’ll invariably suggest that you head off for a semi-insane week in a house built directly over the current Hellmouth. Let’s not forget that said house is already full of hormonal slayers, uptight Watchers, a few cranky Wiccans and one manic-depressive warlock suffering an identity crisis.

Thanks Giles.

The only reason that Andrew is still alive today is because he’s whiny, pathetic and delusional on his good days. Most people just figure that it’s easier to ignore him than to hide the body, I guess.

Don’t get me wrong, until two days ago I was one of the people who just sort of shook their head sadly in his general direction and went on with my life. Of course, if one person ever took him seriously or actually listened to his whining we might not be in this mess.

That leads us to the long version.

Andrew is probably the only person on the planet who had a worse life than me. Okay, that’s an exaggeration, but still. His parents were like Willow’s, they were never there. Just a random voice on the answering machine reminding him to do his homework. They flew in about once a month to do laundry, pay bills and restock the fridge before they were off again to some convention thingy or other.

Andrew’s older brother was a twisted sick fuck that loved to torture living creatures; puppies, kittens, birds, Andrew. Tucker was the psycho that released the Hellhounds on Cordy and me at the formal-wear shop and was planning to bring them to the prom.

School wasn’t a refuge for him either. It was just a different type of torment. Instead of physical torture it was social and emotional torment. Trust me when I tell you that it’s not real good for the old self-confidence when everyone you meet tells you that you’re a loser or a geek or a dork. It not only hurts your feelings, after a while you begin to believe it.

Of course, whereas I had Willow and Jesse to counteract those statements of unlovableness, Andrew had no one. No friends, no family. Nobody ever told him that he was good or kind or anything.

So, Tucker beats, cuts, burns, ties up and generally abuses Andrew at home all night and then he heads to school in the morning for a full day of loser, dork, geek, etc, etc. Is it any wonder that the guy dove head first into the land of make-believe and never came up for air?

Sci-fi, comics, movies, cartoons, role-playing and fiction novels were Andrews’ only retreat from a life that no one deserves. All of that on top of a Hellmouth that encourages insanity.

No one is really sure when all that stuff went from being an escape for him to being delusions that he semi believed to be real. All we really know is that by the time he hooked up with Jonathan, Andrew’s world was peopled with fictional characters and he was mostly disassociative with anything or anyone ‘real’.

Except Jonathan who was also a few sandwiches short of a picnic basket.

So now there are two people running around together as best friends. Both of them are geniuses at science, have backgrounds with magic, are occasionally suicidal, have been horribly abused and ignored in turn and would much rather live in a comic book than the real world.

Sounds like the makings of a bad novel, right?

Well, things would have most likely been fine until they hooked up with Warren who was just as twisted and evil as Tucker, but in his own unique Sci-fi way.

From what little evidence we’ve gathered, Andrew and Jonathan’s insanity swung towards becoming the greatest comic book inspired super-villains they could be. They suffered delusions of grandeur of the Victor Von Doom type. Most notable by the ‘hard-core science and evil megalomania will triumph in the end’ sort of posturing.

That tragic episode ended with Willow on an evil rampage, Warren a skinless lump of charbroiled meat, Jonathan knifed in the back by his lover and with Andrew scared into some semblance of sanity by his periodic possession by the First Evil.

By the time Buffy took him in like some sort of stray dog, Andrew was back sliding into his delusions. This time it was more due to his earnest desire to completely suppress the truth of what had happened to bring him to us. The only thing that stopped us from having him committed to the crazy farm was our fear that the First would use him to commit murder again.

Luckily, the potentials didn’t put up with a lot of his shit and forced him to deal with reality more often than not. Dawn and Anya were probably the only ones to ever say a kind word to the poor shit during that whole episode. They both had a way of handling him when he literally lost the plot and thought he was in some Star Trek episode.

I mostly tried to ignore him as much as I could because he wasn’t shy about letting it be known that he had the hots for me. Well, me and Scott Bakula.

It was finally Buffy that knocked some sense back into his pointy little head. To this day I’m not sure what it was she did, but she dragged him out of the house and returned a few hours later with a quiet, tear-stained and much calmer Andrew.

That’s when he started trying to be useful.

Cooking, cleaning, laundry. Oh yeah, and filming everything for some big dramatic documentary that would highlight Buffy’s triumph over evil.

Needless to say, we all learned how to dodge the camera. Well, except for Spike. I think he got some sort of perverse pleasure out of it.

After Sunnydale was turned into a huge crater and our entire lives slid down into Hell, we all sort of went our separate ways. I went to hunt down slayers in Africa. Willow went to track slayers and witches in South America. Giles went to rebuild the Council in England. Faith went to guard the new Hellmouth in Cleveland. Buffy and Dawn went clubbing and searching for cute guys with big cocks in Rome. Andrew was given a handful of baby-slayers and told to search North America for any more of them and then to send them on to Faith.

Apparently, Andrew’s assignment swirled together in his messed up brain with his periodic delusions and kicked out a whole new personality. From the tone of his reports and what others told me, I guess that Andrew came on really strong as an arrogant, super-gay, James Bond wanna-be.

He took the concept of being in charge to a whole new level. He was bossy, rude and threw his imagined weight around. He pissed off allies, ruined ops and had his slayers confused about who were the big bads and who wasn’t. Finally, his incompetence became too much and Giles recalled him to England for a chewing out.

It was at this point that Andrew reinvented himself again.

No one is really sure how or why Andrew got to be doing what he did next, since he clearly remembers conversations that no one else does. Suffice it to say, Andrew began to work on the Council’s computer network, demon database and other such things. This isn’t a bad thing. Andrew is good at that kind of stuff and it needed to be done. We all still use the same network today.

What’s not so good is that he also began to design comic book based weapons for the slayers in their fight against demons. He used some strange meld of technology and magic that only Willow can truly understand. She disassembled almost half of the weapons after her first inspection on the grounds that they were evil.

Andrew just whined and accused her of being jealous.

Still, this was an odd period for him because he was practically a hermit the entire time. When he did emerge from his lab, he usually was babbling to himself and no one could really understand what he was going on about. At least, those that tried didn’t. Most people didn’t even bother to try.

When he finally broke down in Giles’ office by bursting into tears and exclaiming that no one loved him or understood his genius, Giles panicked and packed him off to the Hellmouth for Faith to deal with.

Over the years Faith has matured and mellowed and really grown into herself as a slayer and a woman. She’s good at dealing with hormonal slayers that are homesick, frightened teens and bloodthirsty demons. One thing she doesn’t do is put up with overly dramatic episodes of insanity. Apparently, it didn’t take her long to slap Andrew back into reality with the rest of us.

She also gave him some advice. She told him that he needed to forget all about role models of any comic or sci-fi movie source and to forget about whatever pre-existing image that others were trying to cram him into. He needed to figure out who he was and what he wanted for himself. Who did he think Andrew Wells was and more importantly, who did he want Andrew Wells to be?

So Andrew locked himself away in his room and tried to do the whole self-analysis thing.

That’s where I came in.

I’d spent the years between Sunnydale and now living out of a suitcase. I started my tour of the world in Johannesburg, South Africa. I slowly made my way north in a zigzag pattern until I hit Cairo, Egypt. From there I made my way across the Middle East into Southeast Asia.

I found slayers, witches, civil-wars, wild animals, demon clan holdings, shamans, terrorists, poachers, refuge camps, famine, drug lords, herds of zombies, monks, corrupt police, gun runners, slavers, insects, diseases, snakes, way too much alcohol and one lovelorn panda bear.

That’s when Giles sent me on vacation to the Hellmouth.

I was there one full day when Andrew decided that he knew what it was he wanted to be and what it was he wanted to do with his life.

He wanted to be a girl.

So that he could date me.

Apparently he didn’t get over the hots he had for me way back in the ‘dale. And while he was more than willing to do the whole gay thing, my reputation said otherwise. I like women. Strong women with sexy bodies and a take charge attitude.

I still don’t know how he found the spell in less than a week. Don’t get me wrong, I remember it from when RJ wore the cursed jacket that made all the girls fall for him. Buffy slept with him, Dawn attempted suicide over him, Anya robbed a bank for him and Willow was determined to turn him into a girl since she was a lesbian.

I remember it so well, not only because of the money Anya brought home that night, but because Spike and I stopped Willow from doing that spell and almost ended up caught in the backlash. We both ended up having nightmares over the thought of getting girl-ified.

The book Willow found that particular spell in should have been at the bottom of the Sunny-D crater.

In secret, Andrew attempted the spell so he could turn himself into my perfect girlfriend. Only it got messed up. I don’t know if it’s because Andrew said the words wrong, if the symbols painted on the floor were incorrect or if he panicked halfway through. It’s entirely possible that he did everything right, but by doing it over the Hellmouth he accidentally invoked Murphy’s Law. Because I’m telling you right now that what could have gone wrong, did.

His magic washed out over everyone in the entire house and transgendered us all.

Halfway.

Himself. Myself. Faith. Robin. Vivian. Michelle. Tamara. Joy. Rona.

All of us now own a nice set of tits, a thick cock and a vagina. Oddly enough, Faith took it the best out of everyone. Something about no longer having to squat in a bush to take care of business when out on patrol.

Last I heard; Joy and Tamara were each locked in their own bedrooms crying in hysterics. Vivian and Rona have both discovered the thrill which is jerking off. Michelle is having some sort of trauma induced denial about the whole thing and starts humming loudly and wanders off if anyone even mentions the situation.

Robin is a much more direct and action oriented type of person. He spent about twenty minutes in the bathroom exploring his new accessories and when he emerged he instantly tried to strangle Andrew to death. My only excuse is that I had a Faith-flashback and while gasping for breath I conked Robin over the head and inadvertently saved Andrew’s life.

Because of that, Giles has named me Andrew’s protector until Willow can fix this mess.

Which is sort of ironic really. ‘Cause I want to kill Andrew.

Or maybe fuck him.
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Magical Mayhem