Summary: Xander's worst fear is realized.
...heehee
Spoilers: Through the first season, but set before WTTH.
Disclaimer: Joss. Blame him. Unless you like it, in which case credit me.
Rating: PG
Feedback: Yes! Hit me with your best shot!
Author's Note: This is just a weird little story that I wrote. Can't figure
out why I did it. It was written in about twenty minutes, so it's kind of
sucky. I apologize. ;)
by: Amy
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Xander bit into a Tornado, taking off a large piece of the chocolate with
his
teeth, but savoring it slowly. He looked around, as happy as he had ever
been. The balloons were his favorite colors, the streamers and little party
hats were really neat. He looked up at Mrs. Rosenberg and grinned, flashing
a chocolate-y mouth.
She smiled down at him, ruffling his hair and then disappearing into the
kitchen. He grinned again, to himself. He knew where she was going. She
was going to check on his birthday cake. Six years old was pretty big.
Xander turned his eyes to Willow and nudged her. "Hey, Wills! Psst."
She looked over at him under a long fringe of dark red bangs, turning her
attention away from the other kids who were talking to her about the games
that they were going to play later. "What?" She smiled delightedly as he
pulled her into a hug.
"Your mom is so nice. She uses big words, but she's real nice for giving
me
a birthday party. You're nice, too. I love you. You're my best friend."
The hug became a kiss on the cheek and Willow pulled back, blushing, beaming
a sweet expression at him.
"I love you too, Xander. But just wait! It's gonna get more funner than it
is right now," she whispered conspiratorially. She looked at Jesse and
giggled. "Right?"
Jesse nodded, his eyes wide. "I can't tell you 'cause Willow's mom told me
not to, but it's real rad."
At that moment, Mrs. Rosenberg walked out of the kitchen and clapped her
hands. A silence fell over the kids and they all looked up at her, waiting.
She smiled. "All right. We've got a very special guest today, for the
birthday boy." She winked at her daughter. Swooping her arms wide, she
said, "Why don't you appear, Mr. Friend?"
The clown jumped into the room, amid the happy shrieks of children. Xander
looked up in awe. "He's my favorite. He's on the TV show! Wow!" Bright
eyes turned to Willow's mom and he ran for her, clutching at her legs with
his hands. He hugged them tightly and she leaned down to rub his back
fondly. "Thanks!"
Mrs. Rosenberg laughed and slowly disentangled herself from his grasp.
Tilting his chin up with her finger, she grinned warmly. "You're welcome,
Xander. Go on now."
Nodding, he turned back to the clown, which had taken out a big box. Setting
it on the table, he turned back the the excited children, who had sat in
a
wiggling circle at his feet around him. "Xander Harris? Who's the birthday
boy?"
He laughed loudly and searched the faces of the small crowd. His skin glowed
white and black teardrops were on his cheeks. His smile was all the way
across his face, and Xander felt a shiver of discomfort. Shyly, he raised
his hand and Mr. Friend chortled.
"Well, you get first pick on the balloon animals!" The clown announced.
The discomfort was gone then and Xander bounced a little. "Snake!" he
shouted.
The clown smiled, or Xander thought he did. It was hard to tell under those
dark red lips that went from ear to ear. Quickly, expertly, he started
blowing up a green balloon. It slowly filled out and lengthened, becoming
a
long snake. "He's awesome," Xander breathed.
Willow nodded sagely. "My mommy says he's the best in his field." She
wrinkled her forehead. "He's not in a field right now. Do you think he
lives in a field?"
Xander shook his head. "Maybe. Hey, what animal do you want, Will?"
She brightened. "A giraffe!"
"Mr. Friend!" Xander shouted over the din and the clown began tying up the
end of the snake. "Will you make a giraffe?" Xander looked at Willow.
"What color, Wills?"
"Yellow."
"A yellow giraffe?" Xander yelled happily. Mr. Friend nodded and took out
a
gleaming yellow balloon and started blowing it up. The children watched in
awe as it got bigger and longer and then finally the clown stopped, knotting
the end. He looked at the balloon and frowned. Slowly, he twisted one leg,
and then two. The balloon rapidly became and animal.
But which animal?
The clown looked at it in confusion and then a child called out, "That's
a
dog! That's not a giraffe!"
Mr. Friend shrugged, setting down the balloon. "All right, kids! Know what
it's time for now??"
"Magic time!" they shouted in unison.
"That's right! So why don't you come up here, Xander, and be my special
helper?" The clown grinned widely-- too widely, Xander thought. He slowly
shook his head. The clown waved him up. "Come on, kids! Let's convince
him!"
The roar became almost deafening, some children clamoring to be the chosen
one, some telling Xander to be the clown's helper. Again, firmly, Xander
shook his head. The clown wouldn't stop smiling! He just smiled forever and
ever! He backed away imperceptibly, but the clown, anticipating this, headed
through the cluster and started for him.
They locked eyes and Xander stood still, staring up at the clown. Mr.
Friend's frizzy red hair stood away from his face like he had been shocked
and his eyes glittered with a strange light. Xander started trembling with
fear. Taking a last look, he turned and fled the room.
And the chase was on.
Xander crashed into tables and chairs in his haste to get out of the way.
He
could hear the clown stumbling behind him, gaining on him, and he broke out
in a sweat. The clown was evil. Nobody smiled all the time, not ever.
Nobody could smile and have black tears on his cheeks. And everybody could
make a giraffe. Evil.
He dodged some furniture, barely registering the sound of the potted fern
crashing to the floor. Finally seeing some refuge, a place to escape, he
crawled under the piano and curled up into a ball.
Looking up once, he saw the hands of the clown, white, white hands, reaching
for him.
Xander promptly wet his pants.
The clown looked down at him and began laughing, wildly, maniacally. Xander
shook and started to wail for help. And then, slowly, the clown leaned down
again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Xander woke up in a cold sweat. He looked around at the tangled sheets as
he
gasped, frantically searching for something. The clown wasn't there. Not
anymore. Xander was safe. Always safe. No more clowns. His breaths became
slower and he eased himself back against his pillow.
Reaching over, he picked up the phone and hit speed dial one. A groggy
feminine voice answered. "Ellow?"
"Willow." Xander breathed a sigh of relief.
Her voice woke up a little. "Xander? Is everything all right? Are you..."
He cut her off. "It was the dream."
"Clown?" she asked warily. He made a sound of affirmation and she sighed.
"Xander, it's been almost ten years. You have this dream at least once a
month. You need to talk to someone," she mumbled. "Not that I mind you
calling me for support, not at all that. But maybe my mom knows a good
person," she finished sleepily. "A talking person or something."
Xander's face heated. "Yeah. Maybe. Lemme think it over before you ask
her, though, okay?"
"Sure, Xander. Hey, listen, you know that bad dreams are normal, right?
That fear is?" she asked, concerned.
"Yeah. Hey, I'm gonna go. I'll see you and Jesse tomorrow morning, okay?
Sorry I woke you up."
"It's okay," she murmured. They disconnected.
Xander stared up at his ceiling for a long time. Fear. Normal, probably.
Something he wanted? Hell no. Stupid clown, tormenting him all these years.
He was almost sixteen! He shouldn't be afraid of something as childish as
a
clown. He stayed awake until dawn, thinking about it, and as he finally
drifted off, he had only one thought.
Fear sucks.
The End