Disclaimers: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, Marti Noxon, Kuzui Enterprises, Sandollar Television, Fox Television Productions, Mutant Enemy, and UPN. Angel belongs to most of those, David Greenwalt, Greenwolf Corporation, and the WB. Highlander: The Series and Highlander: The Raven belong to Gaumont Télèvision, Rysher Entertainment, and Davis/Panzer Productions. Any copyright infringements were not intended. This story was written for entertainment and not for profit.

Spoilers and Timing: Takes place after the Buffy episode "The Freshman" with major spoilers for that ep. Dawn is in this one, too. On Angel, this takes place after "City of" with a few spoilers for that one, too. In the Highlander universe this falls about a year after the series finale and a year before the movie Highlander: End Game, and sometime during the only season of Highlander: The Raven.

Note: This is a crossover between Highlander: The Series, Highlander: The Raven, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Angel. It's also the fifth story in my 'An Immortal Life' Series.

Summary: Doyle promised Alex LaVelle that it would happen, and he wasn't kidding.

Dark Quickenings. Big, giant Mayor snakes. Buffy, Willow, and Oz starting college. Immortality. Dawn showing us where Sunday and her gang had taken Buffy's stuff from her dorm room. Finding a job. That's what I was thinking about when I went to bed the night after Buffy staked Sunday. Perfectly normal thoughts, all things considered.

I’m Xander Harris. You're probably really familiar with me by now, but let me just refresh your memory. I graduated from high school four months ago. My friends just started college life while I've been trying to find a job. Despite my teacher's threats that he would run me through the heart with his sword repeatedly if I didn't bring my grades up, I still didn't do very good so I'm not really college material. Not that I really wanted to go to college, but right now, anything must be better than selling chocolate bars in exchange for one buck per bar sold.

Anyway, when I went to bed that night, I decided to look for a better place of employment the next day. Maybe I could work as an instructor at the Sunnydale Gym and Rock House. After all, how many people in Sunnydale, outside my little group of friends, have much experience with sword fighting? That's basically all I know, and pretty much all Peter figures I'll need while I'm still living on the Hellmouth. I can't disagree with that logic; it's doubtful that I'll run into a demonic martial artist in good old Sunnydale, California. During my road trip over the summer, I drove up to Peter's house in Chicago and brushed up on my sword techniques for a month or two before I headed back down here.

So, I'm young, I'm Immortal, I've got a low-paying job, and I've never been out of the country. That's who I was when I went to bed that night in October. Earlier that day, Dawn had seen Sunday break into Buffy's dorm room and take her stuff, and when Buffy showed up later on, Dawn led us to Sunday's warehouse. Buffy killed Sunday and then we all helped carry her stuff back to her dorm room before Buffy walked Dawn home.

But afterwards, I was back in my basement apartment, dreaming about better accommodations like Peter's house outside Chicago. Tired out after the night's activities, I almost instantly fell asleep.

I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock loudly announcing that it was 10 AM. I'm setting that thing to go off at 3 PM the first chance I get, I thought as I stood up, as awake as I could get without a shower. With that thought, I stood up, pointed in that direction…

…and fell down screaming, clutching my head. The pain just came out of nowhere and seemed to center on my brain. With the pain came memories that felt like my own but I knew had to be someone else's.

The rush of memories ended. I looked around the basement feeling disoriented. My last memory had been of performing the counter-spell with Giles in the library at Sunnydale High. I shook my head. No, that wasn't right. My last memory was of falling to the floor of my basement, which was where I was now.

I had no idea what just happened. Whatever it was, it gave me the memories of my…other self. The older one that stopped that time traveling spell last year. I don't know why. Or…was it giving me the memories from my younger self? The one whose memories of Sunnydale were clearer and newer than mine…this was confusing.

Wait…I knew what was going on. Doyle, that Brachen Demon, told me this would happen. Told the older version of me that this would happen. Yeah, and what version would you be, now? You've got both sets of memories, from both the older and younger versions of yourself, together in one brain. In only a few minutes, you just downloaded two thousand years worth of memory.

Or, if I looked at it the other way, I just rose from the dead after not existing for five whole months. After all, I have both perspectives now.

Like Doyle promised, we've merged.

Boy, did this feel strange.

*****

Okay, after having to deal with all of this for two hours now, I think I've managed to sort most of it out. Not only did I get the…older version's…memories, but I also have his…mine…whatever…body. Yes, there's a physical difference. I know, I know, Immortals' physical appearance, like age and the like, never changes after First Death. We can, however, get scars on our necks, since those are the most sensitive parts of our bodies and any damage done to them tends not to heal very well.

I'll call my older self Alex LaVelle and my younger self Xander Harris, okay? If only for my sanity, whoever the hell I happened to be…Anyway, in the 12^th century, not too long before Alex met Marc and became his teacher, Alex had a little run-in with some mortal road bandits. They nicked his neck with a knife before Alex had the opportunity to take care of them and continue on his merry way. Neck wounds on Immortals don't heal properly, so the incident left behind a souvenir. Looking in the mirror, I could clearly see a scar running across the bottom of the right side of my neck, near the shoulder blade. Then, there was another moment in 1878 when Alex ran into an Immortal serial killer. As it turned out, this psycho beheaded all of his victims, no matter if they were Immortal or mortal, after leaving his mark on the back of their necks: an X, both diagonal lines three inches long, which he'd mark his victims with three days prior to killing them. Thankfully, Amanda managed to rescue Alex just in time, and in return for saving his life she forced him to agree to help her acquire some priceless artwork inside a private collector's house. The 'x' scar was now present on the back of my neck, whoever the hell I was.

After confirming that both scars were there, I sat back down on the bed. The Alex part of me wanted a beer and then wanted to hop the next flight to Paris to see Methos, then track down my two students, Amanda, MacLeod, and Dawson afterwards. The Xander part of me wanted to talk to Giles.

I decided on the things that would take the least amount of time to acquire or reach. I drove to Giles' house, and when he answered the door, I walked past him and immediately went to his liquor cabinet.

"Xander, what-?" he tried to ask me, then looked on in surprise as I drained an entire bottle of some cheap refrigerated beer without even wincing or even breathing until it was empty. I myself looked down in wonder at the liquidless bottle. The Xander part was wondering how I just did that and couldn't get over his shock that I actually did, while the Alex part was enjoying the taste and mourning that he hadn't had a drink in over five months. Talk about differences in character. Xander had been so experienced and mature in some things and so naïve and out-of-control in other things, and while Alex had distant memories of being that sort of person he had learned a lot since he was actually Xander. And yet, they, I, had always been the same person. There were instances in their pasts that I knew just screamed both of them, 'cause hell, they were the same person so they would act similarly. One was just older than the other. And now, I was both of them.

Giles was asking me when I'd become such a heavy drinker. I gave him a grin. "Oh, after the first three centuries, it gets a hell of a lot easier to swallow. And being Immortal pretty much takes care of hangovers."

Giles stared at me, mouth agape. "You're…the older Xander? The one that performed the counter-spell…?"

"In a manner of speaking," I answered. "I’m both. You know, the older and the younger Harrises. We've merged, Giles, and it's pretty freaky at the moment."

"You've…merged?" Giles repeated in awe as he tried to comprehend what I just said.

I nodded, and decided that an example was needed. "See this bottle?" Giles just nodded dumbly. "One set of memories is telling me that I've never drunk anything stronger than grape juice in my life, while another set is complaining because he hasn't existed for five months and didn't get to drink a single drop of liquor during that time."

"Wait, just stop for a minute," Giles said, his hands waving. He pointed at me. "You, eighteen-year-old Xander Harris, who became Immortal less than a year ago…"

I nodded, encouraging him to continue.

He did. "…is now sharing the same space with the two-thousand-year-old Xander Harris, which I'm pretty sure blinked out of existence five months ago."

I nodded. "I did blink out," I told him solemnly. "I can remember fading, or he can remember fading…" I shook my head. I suddenly had an urge for another bottle and tried to resist the feeling. Half of me was hoping that when the alcoholic haze lifted, all of this would make since, while the other half wanted to just curl up into a corner until the pieces that was my mind fitted together again. I continued, "Then, I can remember coming alive again just this morning when I merged with my younger self. But I can also remember helping Buffy fight Sunday last night before carrying her stuff back to her dorm, and then I can remember waking up this morning and thinking of a nice shower before two millennia worth of memories pounded into my skull in only a few minutes."

"So…your minds are one and the same now," Giles concluded.

"Not just our minds, Giles," I said. I left the kitchen, turned my back to him, and pointed at my neck. "See this scar back here?" I turned back to face him. "I remember getting that in the 1870's."

With that, I grabbed another beer from Giles' fridge and plopped down on his sofa. "G-Man, what am I going to do? I mean, part of me knows that I'm just starting out in the world while another part of me has been everywhere and done most of the things out there." I sat up as something else occurred to me. "And I think I'm filthy rich. Oh, never mind, I'm not filthy rich. But I'm pretty close."

"You don't seem to be too concerned about this," Giles said, wording his statement carefully.

I didn't? Oh, right. Alex knew how to hide his anxiety and nervousness, and I was exercising that little talent right then without even realizing it. That didn't mean that I didn't feel that way on the inside. I was getting a little calmer, though, so I shrugged. "Well, we are practically the same person. We just have a difference in age, philosophy and experience, that's all." I shook my head. "Did I just refer to myself as 'we?'"

"Well, since you used to be two people, I don't see why it wouldn't be appropriate," Giles commented.

I stared down at the full beer bottle in my hands. I couldn't resist any longer.

Giles peeled off his glasses and began to clean them furiously, and I noticed that he didn't stop until I'd pulled the bottle, three-quarters empty now, away from my lips. Hmm, curious…

"I probably will regret asking," Giles said, breaking through my contemplation, "But where did you…he…require such a taste for beer?"

I shrugged. "Well, when you spend over a hundred years in the company of a heavy drinker, his habits can wear off on you."

"A hundred years? His?"

"Adam Peirson," I answered. "That's the name he's using nowadays, anyway. Or it was when I…er, my older self, I mean…last saw him around two years ago. Don't worry, Giles, my older self isn't gay."

Giles flushed. "Glad to hear it. Er, not that I think it's bad or anything…um…"

Willow, Oz, and Buffy chose that moment to walk through the front door. "Hey, guys," Willow said, smiling. "What's up?" She noticed the bottle in my hand. "Is that booze?"

"Good morning, Willow, Oz, Bufy," Giles greeted them. He seemed to be very happy for the distraction from the hole he had dug for himself.

Buffy had also noticed the almost-empty bottle in my hand. "Xander?" she asked, shocked. "Since when did you start drinking?"

"There is a reason for that," Giles said. "It's a rather lengthy one." He said it in his usual 'I-have-something-very-important-to-talk-to-you-all-about-and-I-hope-you-will-all-take-it-seriously-for-once' tone. I'd missed that tone so much and hadn't even realized it. It didn't matter that the last time I'd heard him use it was the day before, the rest of me remembered a much earlier point in time.

"There's a long explanation behind him drinking?" Buffy asked, confused.

"Not just that," I said, rolling my eyes. "Something happened to me this morning. Actually, it started five months ago. And no, it's not drinking."

"Nothing bad, I hope?" Willow asked, concern on her face now.

"No, nothing like that," Giles reassured her. Quietly, he added, "Perhaps a little." I gave him a look. Looks like I'd have to reassure him a little more, too. And probably myself. I felt perfectly fine now, but I would probably go into delayed shock in a few hours.

Giles was biting his lip, not sure where to start. I wasn't sure either, so I didn't say anything. "I'm afraid that Xander and I have a secret to share with you, and hopefully you will understand our reasons for not telling you sooner."

We told Willow, Oz, and Buffy about what had happened at the end of April. Willow's eyes filled with wonder. "You mean, the older Xander just gave up his life so you wouldn't have to go through what he did? Wow….that's just, wow."

"Does seem like a pretty big thing to do," Oz said, his face actually reflecting his surprise.

"Why didn't you tell us this?" Buffy asked, looking a little hurt and defensive.

"Didn't really see any reason to," I said, shrugging uneasily. "It was just too weird, and we had enough to worry about anyway."

"So why tell us now?" Willow asked. Giles and I exchanged a glance, and Willow noticed. "There's more, isn't there?" she said, grim.

"Yeah," I acknowledged. "I, um, have all of his memories now."

"His memories?" Buffy repeated. "You mean, your older self's memories?"

"How is that possible?" Oz asked.

"When did that happen? And, like Oz said, how?" Willow asked, now looking hurt. Her expression clearly spoke of her confusion and incredulity. She'd been wearing that expression ever since we told them what had transpired in April, but now it was even more intense.

"I'm really confused here," Buffy added.

Giles took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Frankly, I'm a little confused myself. But from what Xander's told me, what I've come to understand is that he and his older self have merged into one being."

Everyone was giving me their confused looks now, even Giles. "It's true," I told them. "I've got all of these memories of living all over the world, while at the same time, I know that I haven't even left the country before. It's a little confusing, but I'm sorting it out." I met their eyes in turn. "I'm two things now: I'm a man that remembers seeing Giles and Anya, the vengeance demon, die two thousand years ago…" I looked at Giles, whose surprise and interest were written clearly on his face. "…and I'm a young adult that has known all of you guys for years."

Everyone was quiet as they absorbed everything. "So you can like remember what it was like two thousand years ago?" Buffy asked.

I smiled. "Oh, yeah."

"Yes, that brings us to another one of my questions," Giles said, staring thoughtfully at me. "Did you just obtain your older self's memories, or did you get his personality as well?"

"I'm thinking it's the latter," Oz said. "You've been acting different…older, and you've got a different smell."

Smell? Huh? Why would I have a different smell? I noticed that Buffy was giving me a similar look to Oz's expression. "You're stronger now," she said. "When I concentrate, I think I can sense it."

"Maybe it's related to an Immortal's Quickening," Giles said. He explained, "The older version was more likely to have gained more power through challenges, correct?"

I nodded. "Yeah. That must be it. Anyway, to answer your question Giles, our personalities were mixed together. We already had similar characteristics, since the only real difference between us was time."

"So what's it like?" Willow eventually asked, her eyes lit up in excitement.

"What's what like?" I asked, although I had a good idea.

"Living for twenty centuries," she answered.

I smiled. I was really glad that they were getting used to this. "Do you want the juicy bits, the really boring centuries, or the moments of extreme terror?"

*****

I told them a few stories before they finally let me leave. Not that they forced me to stay, really, but I did want to make some calls.

It was around four PM by the time I reached my basement apartment. At least I'd be able to move into better accommodations soon, now that I had money. Nothing too fancy, though. The houses that I had in Chicago and Paris were expensive enough. Methos was supposedly taking care of both houses and he was probably living in one of them, or both, right now. As for living accommodations in Sunnydale, I'll probably have to settle on an apartment and a car.

Paris was nine or ten hours ahead of Sunnydale. It would be around one or two AM over there right then. I'd wake the old man up. I grinned evilly as I dialed up his apartment number. He wasn't living there anymore, so I dialed up my own Parisian house's number.

Someone picked up. "Whoever the hell this is, this better be important or you can bloody well call back at a decent hour," Methos' slurry voice said.

Jackpot. "Hey, old man. How are things going in France?"

"Alex?" he said, his voice filled with surprise. I could tell that he was very awake now. "Where are you?"

"Sunnydale, California," I answered. "I've merged with my younger self, Methos."

"So the Brachen Demon was telling the truth?"

I answered in the affirmative and went on to tell him the events of the day. When I was done, I could hear Methos moving around on the other end of the line. "I'll be there as soon as I can, Xander," he said, "I’m going to stop in Egypt to pick up Marc first, so it might take me a few days."

I smiled. I certainly didn't mind; I wanted to see both of them, after all. "Okay. I’m heading up to LA for a day or so this week, but I should be back by the time you get here."

"You'd better be. I'll see you then," Methos said. After a pause, he added, "Damnit, Alex, you gave us all a scare. One minute there were two of you and then the next you disappeared and only Xander Harris was around. You are telling me everything, do you hear me?"

"Yeah. Just get over here, okay? See you, old man."

"See you later, kid," Methos said before hanging up.

*****

I went looking for an apartment that afternoon. I chose this great place with a huge living room with lots of space for sparing if I needed it, two bedrooms, a large walled-off kitchen, and a spacious bathroom. It wouldn't be free for a few days as the previous renters moved out, so I went back to my parent's basement. The whole trip took two hours.

The next morning, I ate breakfast with everyone, including Joyce and Dawn, at the Summers' home. We talked about what happened the day before, and then I told them that I would be going to Los Angeles for a day or so. "Why can't you stay here?" Dawn asked me with a slight pout. She's had a crush on me ever since she, Buffy, and Mrs. Summers moved to the Hellmouth, and hated whenever I wasn’t around.

"I promise I won't be gone long, just a few days," I answered. "Hey, you'll wish I'd stayed in LA a little longer when I ask you to help me move to my new apartment."

"You got a new apartment? That's great!" Buffy said.

"Yep, I'll show it to you guys when the renters move out."

"Xander, do you really think its wise of you to do any traveling in your present condition?" Giles asked, giving me a worried look.

I smiled reassuringly at him. "Don't worry. I've already gone through the shock of it all, but if something else comes up, I'll call you, okay? Otherwise, I'll be back in a day or two. See y'all."

So I left Sunnydale in my new car and started on the hour-long trip to the city that never sleeps. After I got a hotel room, I called the operator and requested the phone number for one Allan Francis Doyle.

The phone rang twice before it was picked up. "Hello, Charlie's Pizza Delivery," the voice on the other end answered, making me raise an eyebrow. Who did the Brachen Demon think he was kidding? His Irish Accent gave him away.

Why he was answering his phone calls under a false name was beyond me, and was none of my business. "Hello, Doyle. It's Alex LaVelle Harris. We met a few years ago in Paris."

Doyle was silent for a minute. "I take it the mergin's taken place already, then?"

"Got it in one, Brachen," I answered. "You said I should stop by after I stopped the spell. Was there something you had to tell me?"

"You could say tha'," Doyle answered nervously. "Tell ya what, how about you meet me at my workplace, Angel Investigations? I think ya know my associates already. They're Cordelia Chase and Angel, the vampire."

That surprised me. I certainly hadn't expected Doyle of all people to be working with my ex-girlfriend and a two hundred plus vampire. He gave me directions and we agreed to meet there within the hour. When I entered the building I easily found the Angel Investigations offices. As I entered the place, I heard Cordelia's distinctive voice intertwined with Angel's own.

"I was thinking that maybe we could get a fridge put in here," I heard the May Queen say. "Nothing too fancy, just a small one to keep the plasma cold and some food for the other people that work here."

"Sounds okay," Angel agreed.

They were standing around a desk, and they fell silent when the door opened. "Xander?" Cordelia said, smiling. She came over to me, looking very excited to see me, which was surprising considering our relationship only a few months ago. "Wow, the first Immortal to see the office!" she said. She looked at Angel. "Okay, maybe second, but still. Hey, Xand."

Cordelia actually looked more excited to see me than she'd ever been without actually touching me. I smiled at the sight. It looked like moving to LA had done some good for her. "Hey, Cordy. Hi, Angel." I greeted both of them. Angel nodded in greeting, a little surprised that I didn't call him 'Deadboy.' I just had too many things on my mind to even remember to use the nickname. "So, you guys work here? What do you do?"

"We're private detectives," Cordelia said. "I'd give you a card but I haven't designed them yet."

"Cards?" Angel repeated, giving her a look that said, 'what now?'

"Private Investigators, huh? Cool. Don't you have to have a license for that, though?"

The door opened behind me, and Doyle stepped inside. Doyle answered, "Usually, yeah, but this is a special kind of agency." He nodded at Angel. "Our boss has fangs."

"Hello, Doyle," I greeted him.

"LaVelle," he greeted me, nodding. "Or is it Harris now?"

I shrugged. "Both, I guess."

"You know Doyle?" Angel asked me, curious.

"Yeah, when did you guys meet?" Cordy asked. "Was it at some meeting for the People Who Wear Ugly Clothing Society?"

I guess LA hasn’t changed her much after all. "Um, no, princess," Doyle said, going for casual, although I could tell the jest hurt him. It didn't really bother me. I'd gotten enough of those comments from Cordy before, during, and after we dated that they didn't really faze me at all. Doyle was still too new to tactless Cordelia.

"How we met is a long story tha' has ta be told some other time." He turned to me. "I had a Vision last night, and you had a big part in it, Xander."