Prologue
Masterpost
Xander glared at the outside of his shitty, overpriced motel in Oxnard. He was as far from Sunnydale as he'd ever been, and as far as he'd ever get. And it sucked.
Sure, it would have been nice to see a bit more of the country, and he'd been talking about all the kitschy roadside attractions for months. But what he'd really been looking forward to was visiting family, family he had not mentioned to his friends or parents, family he had found out about while cleaning out some unopened boxes in the basement last winter.
He had family, family that wasn't his shitty, drunken parents and had no connection to Uncle Rory. And they wanted to meet him. His grandfather had sounded so happy to hear from him when Xander sent that first note, and had been more than happy to put him in touch with Aunt Martha even though they weren't talking.
And none of it mattered now because there was no way he was going to make it to Kansas with Uncle Rory's car dead and no job in Oxnard was going to pay for repairs in less than the full summer. Add in hotel and food, and it might take longer, even if they did ask him to strip again. Ugg.
Xander stared sadly at the payphone next to the motel office and carefully dialed the number included in the last letter from his grandfather.
“Hey, Grandfather William. It's Xander … Yeah, I know I'd planned to be there next week, but that's why I'm calling … No, my car broke, and I'm broke. I'm just not going to make it. I'm so sorry … No, I couldn't let you … Really? … No, Mom never said anything … Oxnard, the Vagabond Inn … Right, tomorrow. Grandfather, I can't begin to … Really, thank you … Right, see you tomorrow.”
Blinking bemusedly as he turned back to his motel room. Okay, maybe he should have done a little more research into his mother's family before he'd agreed to visit. Or even made contact. But how could he have known his drunk, mildly abusive, and very oblivious mother was a scion of the Metropolis Clark's?
Xander glared at the outside of his shitty, overpriced motel in Oxnard. He was as far from Sunnydale as he'd ever been, and as far as he'd ever get. And it sucked.
Sure, it would have been nice to see a bit more of the country, and he'd been talking about all the kitschy roadside attractions for months. But what he'd really been looking forward to was visiting family, family he had not mentioned to his friends or parents, family he had found out about while cleaning out some unopened boxes in the basement last winter.
He had family, family that wasn't his shitty, drunken parents and had no connection to Uncle Rory. And they wanted to meet him. His grandfather had sounded so happy to hear from him when Xander sent that first note, and had been more than happy to put him in touch with Aunt Martha even though they weren't talking.
And none of it mattered now because there was no way he was going to make it to Kansas with Uncle Rory's car dead and no job in Oxnard was going to pay for repairs in less than the full summer. Add in hotel and food, and it might take longer, even if they did ask him to strip again. Ugg.
Xander stared sadly at the payphone next to the motel office and carefully dialed the number included in the last letter from his grandfather.
“Hey, Grandfather William. It's Xander … Yeah, I know I'd planned to be there next week, but that's why I'm calling … No, my car broke, and I'm broke. I'm just not going to make it. I'm so sorry … No, I couldn't let you … Really? … No, Mom never said anything … Oxnard, the Vagabond Inn … Right, tomorrow. Grandfather, I can't begin to … Really, thank you … Right, see you tomorrow.”
Blinking bemusedly as he turned back to his motel room. Okay, maybe he should have done a little more research into his mother's family before he'd agreed to visit. Or even made contact. But how could he have known his drunk, mildly abusive, and very oblivious mother was a scion of the Metropolis Clark's?