Full Summary: Xander Wyatt is stuck between a rock and a hard place. The rock: possible death and dismemberment by a number of shady organizations. The hard place: a girl about the height of his shoulder. Oh, the dilemma.
From the files of Villa:
Case Xander (1)
Clubs are nasty places.
I've been told to assimilate a personality that would possibly attract my target, but honestly, I can't help but shudder in revulsion. All those sweaty bodies, gyrating and grinding against each other like it's the most pleasurable activity in the world.
Am I supposed to gyrate with them? I seem to be attracting a lot of stares with my attempts at dancing. The revealing outfit Lance forced me to wear isn't helping either.
Name: Xander Wyatt
Age: 22 years
Occupation: Unemployed. Recent graduate of a prestigious university.
Indentifying traits: Is a genius.
Appearance: Tall, lanky and rather messy. Dark hair, light brown eyes, often wears a blue pendant around his neck.
I dislike pendants. They get quite irritating during fights. It is impossible to take down an enemy when one has a piece of something swinging wildly from your neck. Unless, of course, you use it to hit them – but that would be impractical.
I study Xander Wyatt, spotting the pendant as a glimmer of blue hidden in the depths of his shirt. He is currently slumped over the bar, and it looks like he's banging his head against the table.
Honestly, Lance, you think this guy is right for the job?
He doesn't look like much of a genius to me.
Picking my way through the crowd, I try to avoid getting bumped out of the way by all the dancing bodies. It's hard to make much headway. Not to mention the difficulty of moving while simultaneously attempting to dance. Lance's training spread over a very wide range. Skydiving, all assortments of weapons, weightlifting – we did it all. We never danced, though. Perhaps I should suggest it in the curriculum.
If it's going to be a stipulation for future missions, I definitely should.
Because this Xander guy, the one we're supposed to recruit – he can't dance for his life.
Xander Wyatt: on inebriation
Riiight… there was a pretty blonde curled up under his arm. How'd she get there? The last thing Xander recalled was making a pathetic attempt to dance before giving up and sitting down again. Dancing just wasn't his thing. He didn't even remember how he'd gotten inebriated. Was he inebriated? He stood from the barstool he'd been slumped on, and the world spun like a massive top.
Okay, he was definitely inebriated.
Maybe the blonde had put alcohol into his water. Because all Xander remembered drinking was water. He turned back. The blonde was gone. Was there a blonde in the first place? Frowning, he put a hand to his forehead. He'd been drunk before – not many times, admittedly, but enough.
And funnily enough, this didn't feel like the normal intoxication.
Another woman suddenly appeared before his eyes. She was wearing a slinky, shimmering top with a low neckline, and tight pants that showed off her slim figure. Admittedly, it wasn't much of a figure. She was pretty hot, he'd give her that, but her obviously well built body wasn't really his type.
"Why d'you keep appearing?" He slurred at her, pointing somewhere near her direction. His finger wouldn't obey him, and skewed off towards the side. He frowned. The floor felt like it was made of ping-pong balls; it threw him treacherously off balance. "… didn't you use to be blonde?"
The woman kept her expression stony. "Xander Wyatt?"
"Me?" Xander opened his eyes wide, before dropping the lids again. "Man, I'm sleepy."
He thought he saw her roll her eyes, but within a second her face was back to its former impassiveness. She moved her head slightly, flipping back a few stray strands of her short, jagged haircut. Her hand was a blur in his vision as it darted to his side.
"Whoa…" Xander murmured. "Whatcha doin'?"
Then his head hit the floor and the world went black.
Security Camera #46
[Short, slim girl enters. Is that a … man she's carrying?]
[Girl unceremoniously dumps man onto bed before leaving]
Girl: See you later, Xander Wyatt.
Xander Wyatt: Snore.
Man, being a camera is boring.
Excerpt from Lance's uber-secret diary
If Villa ever found out I had a diary, she would probably pound me to death with my own weights. Or she might use her weights. One can never tell with that girl.
Why, it seems that only the other day I took her under my caring, nicely muscled wing, determined to bring her up to be the world's deadliest young woman…
And now she is.
I don't know what to do with myself anymore. The other morning she beat me in arm wrestling. I mean, I still have an advantage, but she's starting to get much better. Much faster.
I instructed her to get the Xander kid. Doubtless she's out there this very moment, dragging him back to HQ. It's almost pathetic that our fate is left up to such a weedy looking boy. Stick a pair of glasses on him and he'd be the very embodiment of 'nerd'.
Ah well. What Fate says, goes. No questions.
The great Lance Kirby just used the word 'nerd'. Next thing you know, I'll be writing my diary in 1337 5p34k.
It's embarrassing that I even know those words.
Or that I have a diary.
Please don't tell Villa.
Xander Wyatt: on cells and saving the world
There was a persistent dripping noise in his ears. It was extremely annoying. Annoying to the point that he forced himself to wake up. Xander wasn't in the habit of forcing himself to wake up for much more than slamming the 'snooze' button on his alarm clock and falling back into a deep, uninterrupted slumber.
He started to look around his room, expecting the boring, patterned wallpaper that met his gaze every morning, but the only thing his blurry gaze found was grey. His feet were cold – he had no shoes. Barren cell walls surrounded him, and he realized that his hands were tied behind him and he was propped on a sharp metal chair.
"Hey," Xander said, shaking sleep from his eyes. His voice sounded unfamiliar even to himself. "Whuzzgoinon? Where shoes?"
"Xander Wyatt. "
Boot-clad feet stepped into the circle of light that surrounded him. A massive body followed. Xander would have shrunk back from the behemoth of a man who had just revealed himself, but the chair prevented him from doing so. Lighter, less threatening footsteps approached from his left and he turned to see the girl from the club.
"You're meant to be a genius," She said. "It is odd when a genius can't notice when they've been drugged."
"You," He rasped, feeling as though he hadn't spoken in ages. "What are you doing to me?"
"Untie him, Villa." The large man ordered.
The woman – Villa – shot the big guy a glare. Big Guy glared right back. Xander eyed the two of them apprehensively. They were worlds apart in size, but he had a strange feeling that the girl was the one he should be more worried about.
Finally, the staring battle ended – Big Guy seemed to be the victor, because Villa stepped forward to slice through the bindings that held their prisoner to the chair. She produced a knife from nowhere, spinning it round once before slashing directly downwards. Xander winced involuntarily, having seen light winking off the sharp metal, but nothing happened except the slackening of the rope.
He brought his arms in front of him, rubbing at his wrists. "Who are you and what am I doing here? Wherever here is. Where is here?"
Villa walked to stand next to the big man. "You ask too many questions."
"Wow, Xander said. "That's like the first time you've spoken to me since you said 'Xander Wyatt?' at the club and then knocked me out."
She blinked. "I spoke to you just now."
"… That doesn't count."
"I'm not in contact with my family, so if you're looking for ransom, you're not going to get it." Xander blurted. He reddened slightly.
Big Guy and Villa exchanged looks. Villa spoke up. "We don't want any money."
"When then why have you kidnapped me, brought me here and tied me to a chair?" Steel flashed in the woman's eyes and he felt a bit of regret at speaking so straightforwardly. However, this girl annoyed him. Someone so small should never be so brazen. Who knows, the dudes like Big Guy (who was watching their exchange with obvious amusement) might decide to step on them.
Big Guy spoke, finally. "My name is Lance Kirby. You – "
Lance fell silent as Xander's instinctive bark of laughter echoed throughout the room. "… did you find something funny?"
Xander gulped. "Oh… no, nothing. God, no."
"It's just… the Kirby. You know. Nintendo? Super Smash Bros?"
The two individuals in front of him exchanged glances.
"Seriously," Xander looked from one to another. "You don't know Kirby? Pink guy? Round, cute, completely lovable?"
Lance cleared his throat. "The only Kirby here, Mr. Wyatt, is me. And I assure you, I am neither cute nor lovable. So you would do well to listen up."
As if to emphasize his point, he removed the suit jacket he was wearing. Xander swallowed as rippling muscles were revealed, straining the white collared shirt Lance wore underneath.
The corner of Lance's mouth crooked up as the man in the seat paled. "You are here, Xander, because we need you. We need your… talents."
"What? My talents? I have no talents. I mean, sure, I can tie a cherry stem into a knot with my tongue, but other than that…" Xander laughed nervously and trailed off, rubbing one foot against his leg to conserve warmth. "This is really weird, guys. Just tell me the truth."
"We are," Villa said coldly, in a tone that implied she never, ever lied. "Lance and I belong to an organization that specializes in security."
"You mean, security guards, safes, stuff like that?" Xander couldn't believe what he was hearing. This was odd. Maybe he was still inebriated. He would wake up and find the blonde was still beside him, and he was late for school.
"Something like that," Villa nodded. "We know about your aptitude with computers, Xander."
"We need your help." Lance said.
"I don't get it," Xander threw his hands up, exasperated. "Why me? What am I supposed to do?"
Villa pronounced the next few words with obvious distaste. "Apparently, Xander, you are supposed to save us all."
A/N: I couldn't resist. It's different from my usual stories; this will just be an outlet for all the ridiculous ideas I get sometimes. Variances from reality are going to be very, very common. This story is mainly for two things: creativity, laughs, and kick-ass characters. Okay, so maybe three things. I never was good at math (:
Please review! I'd love to know what you think.