AnotherStory

Author�s note: This is really only barely fanfiction, but it relates to my other stories. I created a character called Xandria, based on Xander�s Woman, for my story �Warning! This is a Dark Ride!� who later cameo�d in �Occupational Hazards." Today, in honor of XW�s birthday, I am continuing the story of Xandria that was hinted at in �Occupational Hazards.� I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: It�s mine! All mine! No Buffy! No Angel! No vampires, universities, detectives, and very little angst. Okay, a little. It�s important, you know, for character growth. But Joss doesn�t own angst (although it sometimes feels like it.) The fairground aesthetic, though? That�s mine. I copyrighted it.

Feedback: As they say in Sunnydale, duh.

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Xandria stood, too, and put her arms around Angel�s neck, hugging him fiercely. �I never thanked you,� she said, rising. �You saved me that night, Angel. I lived sixty more years. I married, too, eventually. A beautiful Italian trapeze artist, twenty-three years old.� She winked mischievously. �And I was a blushing bride of fifty-two. But that�s another story.�
-�Occupational Hazards� by the author

Coney Island, NYC, 1932~

Bruno Amoroso, owner and manager of the Parliament of Wonders, took the hand of Xandria, Woman of the Wild.

�I hate to ask you to do this,� he said. �Pull up roots after we�ve been here so long, but the people aren�t coming to us anymore. We have to go to them. That�s why I�m joining this partnership with the Morgan Brothers.� He lowered his eyes. �I would understand if you left, Xandria. Wonderland Pier would take you in a minute��

�Stop it, Bruno,� Xandria said. �Of course I�m going with you. Do you think I�ve stayed here because of my deep personal attachment to Coney Island? I just want to work with my animals, and if that means joining up with a circus, then that�s what I�ll do.�

Amoroso breathed a sigh of relief. �I�m so glad,� he said. �I think of you as my own daughter, Xandria.� The man raised his chin, appearing to come to a decision. �I want you to take on more of the management duties,� he said. �I�m starting to get up there. I need someone to take some of the more day to day chores in hand.�

Xandria felt tears start to prickle in her eyes. �I would be honored,� she said.

Later that night, in the converted boat-house she shared with her menagerie, Xandria took stock of her belongings, preparing in her mind for her new life on the road.

The animals sensed the change and reacted in their own way. Terrence, an old tiger who�d lost his teeth many years before, paced back and forth in his pen. The exotic birds made strange, wailing cries. And Ollie, her palm monkey, jumped from her shoulder to the table and back again as she worked on a list of questions for Amoroso and the Morgans.

Did the circus have a seamstress? If so, she could probably sell her sewing machine. Could she keep Terrence separate from the other big cats? Was there reliable heat for the reptiles? A draft-free place for the birds?

As she paused to think, Ollie wrapped his tiny hand around the end of her pencil and looked at her with a quizzical expression.

�Yes, Ollie,� she said, �we�re going to become Gypsies.� And saying it aloud brought it all home, all the trepidation, the uncertainty, but all the excitement, too. She stood and scooped the little creature into her hands. �We�re going to see the world!�

Outside Spokane, Washington, 1936~

Xandria leaned out the window of the train, feeling the wind in her face as it gathered speed. She turned back to look down the tracks as they receded into nothing. �Goodbye, Spokane,� she screamed over the roar of the train engine. She turned again. �Coeur d�Alene, here we come!�

She ducked back into the car and raised the window, combing her hair back into place with her fingers. Amoroso chuckled in the seat beside her. �You always do that,� he said.

�It�s been lucky so far,� she told him.

Amoroso reached into his satchel and drew out a handful of letters and photos. �From Thompson�s Museum of Oddities,� he explained. �He�s closing up at the end of the season and several of his people have written about meeting up with us in Florida.� He passed a few of the pictures to Xandria. �Give me your opinion,� he said. �We�ll start with the working acts first��

Somewhere in Nova Scotia, 1939~

Xandria stood at the gravesite, her closest friends in the circus by her side, many of the other performers and crew spread out around her. She dabbed at her eyes with a lace-trimmed hanky.

�Did you want to say a few words,� Alec Morgan, the circus�s ringmaster and co-owner, asked her.

�Just that I�ll miss him,� she said softly.

�He was a professional,� Alec intoned. �A seasoned performer, a member of our family for many years.� He paused. �Indeed, as every circus member knows, our animals are like our children. We eat with them, work with them. We depend on each other. Thus we commit our brother tiger to the ground.�

�Goodbye, Terrence,� Xandria said, dropping a handful of dirt onto the packing crate that served as the old cat�s coffin.

�He went at the right time,� Amoroso told her, leading her from the grave. �He could sense the end of the season, too.�

Raleigh, North Carolina, 1942~

Xandria, Amoroso, and Alec and Richard Morgan sat at the table across from Misters Rudolph and Carling, owners of the Circus American. The negotiations to merge the two circuses had been long and arduous, and if another man apologized for his coarse language in the presence of �the lady,� Xandria was going to cut loose with some language of her own.

But things finally looked to be taking on a kind of form. Bitter disagreements were becoming compromises, and all involved were working towards a plan that was acceptable to them all.

Xandria calculated in her mind how the work force would finally sort itself out. In a way, they were lucky. Many of the roustabouts and other laborers had left for higher-paying war jobs, and they�d probably lose more in a natural way as the newly combined personalities clashed. A lot of the acts were, thankfully, not duplicated in Circus American. They had no sideshow, for a start, nor bareback riders. By the same token, the Morgan Bros. had neither tumblers nor elephants, and American did. And the clown corps could simply expand. Always room for more among the clowns.

But a few would have to move on or find other duties. They only needed one dog act, one family of Chinese acrobats. For the first time since she�d agreed to become Amoroso�s general manager, Xandria was glad she�d given up performing.

Port of Wilmington, 1948~

Xandria stood on the pier beside Lewis Carling, staring nervously up the gangplank of the Anna Elisa. She wished Amoroso had been able to accompany her in meeting their new aerialists, the Bellinis, but the late April weather had turned suddenly chill, and Xandria had insisted the old man stay in his warm train car. This was probably his last season, anyway. He�d been looking into bungalows that past winter in Florida.

She adjusted the hood of her jacket and felt Judy, daughter of Ollie, huddle closer against her neck.

�Here they come,� Carling said, and eighteen men, women, and children emerged from the darkness of the ship.

They were all lean and muscular, with glossy black hair and dark brown eyes. The oldest man strode rapidly down the plank. �You are Signore Carling?� he said, his English heavily accented.

�Yes,� Carling said, and the man�s face broke open with relief.

�I am Silvio Bellini,� he said. �I� my English� not so good. My son�� He raised his hand and one of the young men joined him. �Maso. Tomaso,� Silvio said in introduction, then spun off a good bit of Italian.

�My father wishes to express his gratitude,� Maso translated. �Since the War we have been with six circuses, and all have had to close.�

�No need to explain, young man,� Carling re-assured him. �This is Circus American�s personnel director, Xandria Brendan.�

Xandria extended her hand. �Welcome to America,� she said.

Silvio took it and shook enthusiastically, while his son gave a small frown. The young man translated, and Silvio gave a small frown, too. The two had a short discussion.

�Is there a problem?� Xandria said, and Maso turned to her guiltily.

�My father has never worked for a woman before,� he explained, his face beginning to flush. �He thought you were perhaps Mr. Carling�s wife.�

Xandria laughed. �No,� she said. �Not married. But I have over twenty-five years experience in the biz, if that makes your dad feel better.�

Maso and Silvio had another exchange, and the younger man translated again. �My father is concerned about the children. The trip has been very hard.�

�Yes, of course,� Carling said quickly, �we have cars waiting. Is there luggage you need to retrieve?�

�Only what we carry,� Maso said, as the rest of the family began to gather around them. Xandria looked down at the wide-eyed children, all trying to be brave.

Suddenly, Judy darted out from under her hood, leaping quickly from her shoulder to the top of her head.

In unison, the entire family jumped back.

Judy shook a finger in the children�s direction, scolding in a loud, screeching voice, and the children began to laugh and chatter excitedly.

Maso gave her a brilliant smile. �Our last circus,� he said, �the animal trainer had an animal like this.� He blushed again. �I don�t know the name in English.�

�Oh,� Xandria said. �It�s a monkey.�

�Monkey,� Maso told the children, and several repeated the word. �What is his name?� he asked Xandria.

�Her name,� Xandria corrected him, �is Judy.�

�Judy,� several of the children repeated, and a few laughed.

�Let�s be on our way, then,� Carling said, and the assembly moved to the waiting cars.

Maso gave Xandria another smile. �Thank you,� he said.

Kansas City, 1950~

Xandria closed her account book and glanced at her watch. Still an hour till showtime. Perfect.

She left her railcar apartment-slash-office and headed for the midway, which was already starting to fill up with happy families. She smiled and waved to all the workers. Since Amoroso had retired, she had taken over all the circus�s books, and knew each worker, from the star lion tamer to the newest cotton-candy girl, by name.

Ingrid, the wardrobe mistress, fell into step beside her carrying what looked like two bushel�s worth of pink tulle. �I told Wolfgang not to feed his hippo funnel cake,� she said. �I had to let the tutu out again. He must stick to vegetables.�

�I�m sorry,� Xandria said, trying to conceal a grin. �Do you want me to talk to him?�

�Could you?� Ingrid said, and Xandria assured her she would before the harried seamstress rushed ahead to the animal pens.

Xandria entered the tent through the back and was met by Gunter Rudolph, one of the circus�s owners, who escorted her to the unobtrusive private box beside the orchestra. Around them the bleachers filled up with people, and Xandria and Gunter were joined by the Morgan Brothers, Alec�s wife Sofia, Lewis Carling and his son, Lewis Junior.

It was a beautiful evening, and the warm June air, carrying the musty scent of the surrounding cornfields, wafted gently through the open tentflaps.

Before they knew it, the orchestra had struck up the traditional �Parade of the Gladiators� and the show was underway.

Xandria applauded the performers vigorously as they paraded past her box. It didn�t matter how many times she saw this, the rolling tones of the calliope always made heart beat faster with excitement. She laughed at the clowns, gasped at the elephants, and clapped at the backflip of every pink poodle.

When the ringmaster directed everyone�s attention above the center ring, to witness the aerial acrobatics of the Flying Bellinis, Xandria held her breath, along with the rest of the crowd.

Silvio�s clan had quickly become a major attraction at Circus American in the two years since they�d joined, and Xandria had grown very fond of them all, the children especially, and Maso in particular. She found the young man to be intensely curious, eager to learn as much as he could about the way the circus was run. Xandria suspected he might have an ambitious eye on joining the front office once his performing days were over, and she suspected he�d be good at it.

Not that he�d be giving up performing soon. Though his mother, Leola, had given up the trapeze when the children were born, his father, Silvio, continued to perform, though he was well into his forties.

As if cueing from Xandria�s thought, the spotlight found Silvio, who stood sixty feet above the crowd with his brother, Carlo, his nephew, Renato, and his three oldest children, Rosa, Marietta, and Maso.

From the anonymity of her box, Xandria allowed herself to admire her young friend. He was lean and muscular, his black hair catching the blue lights above him and throwing his beautiful features into clear relief. His blue leotard, covered with patterns of gold sequins that shimmered like sunlight on water made him look like a magical being. If I were twenty years younger, Xandria thought.

The performance began, and as the Bellinis soared from bar to bar like great, blue birds, Xandria was as rapt as a child. Maso leapt for the trapeze, and bent and unbent his body to propel it to the necessary speed and height, then rolled to suspend himself by his knees. His father and uncle on the adjoining trapeze went through a sequence of moves to swing in tandem, holding hands.

With a rim shot from the orchestra, Silvio let go, and reached for his son�s hands.

Their fingertips barely touched as Silvio misjudged his target.

And then the older man was falling, spinning through the air, just past the edge of the net. He hit the sawdust-strew floor with a sickening thump.

A few in the crowd screamed, followed by an eerie silence.

Xandria vaulted out of the box, reaching the fallen aerialist�s side a moment behind the circus physician. It was obvious Silvio could not have survived the fall.

Maso had descended now and was running towards his father�s body. Xandria caught his shoulders and tried to turn him away, but the young man had already seen.

His agonized cry of grief tore her heart in two.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The circus shut down for three days following Silvio�s death, canceling all the remaining Kansas city performances. The Bellinis chose to have their patriarch cremated, and his widow, Leola, returned to her family in Italy with the ashes.

Two weeks after the tragedy, the family began work on their new routine. Carlo took over as head of the act, and his daughter Ghita and Maso�s younger brother Lorenzo took their place, as well.

Rosa explained to Xandria that Maso had vowed to give up the trapeze forever, but that he would stay on with the family. Xandria tried to speak to him directly, but was told by the rest of the family that he would see no one.

Over the next several weeks, she visited the Bellinis� compartments frequently, but Maso would not speak to her, even as a friend.

Finally, Rosa informed her that Maso had moved out of the family�s quarters. He was still with the circus, they saw him from time to time, but he would not speak to them. They weren�t sure where he was staying or what he was doing.

Xandria reacted to this news with dismay. The thought of her friend dealing with his grief alone made her heart hurt.

Echo Park, Los Angeles, later that summer~

Xandria swung her galvanized pail back and forth as she trudged through the misty dawn to the water truck for her morning water. The park was beautiful, and the tent looked unreal beneath the towering palm trees.

Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Xandria joined the water line. When her shoulder was bumped she looked up, right into the haunted face of Maso Bellini.

With a mumbled �sorry,� he ducked his head and continued on his way. Xandria stepped out of line and followed him.

He led her to the roustabouts� car where the roughest laborers, most of whom only stayed with the circus long enough to get a free train trip out of town, slept on straw alongside the horses and dogs. She could see his normally glossy hair was filthy and dull, and his clothes hung on his lean frame. Eyes still down, he began to wash in the water he�d carried.

Xandria crouched down beside him. �What are you doing, Maso?� she said.

�Go away,� he told her.

With surprising strength she pulled him to his feet. �What are you doing here?� she said. �Why aren�t you with your family? They�re worried about you.�

Maso�s dark eyes glazed with tears. �I could not bear it,� he said. �Every day to hear them talk about the trapeze, the stunts, the act. And every time, I want to die.�

�It wasn�t your fault,� Xandria said. �It just happened. Nobody blames you.�

�I know,� Maso said. �I just can�t be part of it anymore.�

Xandria swallowed hard, dreading her next question. �Do you want to leave?�

�Where would I go?� Maso said. �I was born in the circus. I remember climbing on the nets as a child.� He shook his head. �I cannot leave. I cannot perform. All I can do is pound tent pegs and shovel hay.�

Xandria took the young man�s arm. �I never told you how I joined the �Parliament of Wonders,� did I?� she said.

Maso shook his head.

�Come with me, we�ll talk.�

The two began walking slowly, away from the circus grounds and along the edge of the lake. �Ever since I was a little girl growing up in Queens, New York,� Xandria said, �I�d wanted a pet monkey. I mean, I�d heard all the stories, about how difficult they could be, but I didn�t care. Anyway, I finished school and went to work as a typist. I got a little two-room flat, and as soon as I�d saved up, I bought a palm monkey, same as Judy. Named him Valentino. He was amazing. I taught him all sorts of tricks; he went with me everywhere. Then, that first winter, he got very sick. I shorted my rent that month so I could take him to the vet.

�Well, the vet couldn�t do anything, he didn�t know about monkeys, but he made some inquiries and heard about an exotic animal trainer out at Coney Island.� Xandria paused, reaching back in her memory. �I took the trolley there, carrying Valentino in a bunting like a baby. He was so sick, Maso. The trainer met with me. He thought he could help, but we had to care for Valentino constantly. For two days we sat in his little house, watching and talking.� She swallowed hard. �Valentino died, but the trainer offered to take me on as an apprentice. I never looked back.�

Maso looked down at her, his large brown eyes questioning.

�What I�m saying is,� Xandria went on, �is if a typist from Queens can become the general manager of one of the largest circuses in the country, someone as smart and hard-working and beautiful as you, Tomaso Bellini, can be anything you want.�

Savannah, Georgia, 1951~

Xandria passed a photograph across her desk to Maso. Soon after their talk the previous summer, he had become her assistant and moved into the compartment adjoining hers.

"This is the Padras family," she said. "The father and two of the children have skin like alligators. But they are also escape artists. They'd like to join the Parliament."

"I think they'd be a good addition," Maso said.

"I agree," Xandria said. "We'll write them a letter tomorrow." She took the photo back and slipped it into a folder. "I think we're done for today. Can you think of anything?"

"Nothing that can't wait," Maso said.

"Fine, then," said Xandria, yawning and stretching.

"You look tired," Maso said.

"Just stiff," Xandria assured him.

Maso stood and walked around to stand behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and gently massaging them. She relaxed against him with a drawn-out sigh. "That's marvelous," she said.

He continued the backrub in silence, save for Xandria's murmurs of pleasure, until every knot was worked out. She turned and looked up at him. "Thank you," she said. "You've outdone yourself today, my beautiful boy."

Maso blushed, as he always did when Xandria used her pet name for him. And every time Xandria was charmed. He deserved some companionship. "Why don't you go catch up with some of the young ladies," she told him. "Have some fun."

A strange expression flashed across Maso's features, too quickly for Xandria to read them before again becoming an impassive mask. "I bid you goodnight, then," he said, his tone a bit more formal than usual, and moved out the door.

Xandria heard the door to his own compartment open and close, but he didn't leave again that night.

Winston-Salem, North Carolina, two weeks later~

Xandria glanced over the top of the papers she was holding to observe Maso at work. He was concentrating intently, his dark head bowed low as he added columns of numbers.

Something was going on with him, Xandria thought. She just couldn't figure out what.

In the first few months as her assistant, he had been quiet, very unlike his curious self, but that was to be expected as he mourned his father's death. Then during the off-season in Florida he had begun to come back to the Maso she knew. They had talked together for hours, telling each other about their lives. He had been able to talk about the trapeze again, fondly remembering the past, learning at his father's side. He even seemed to be treating her like a beloved teacher, bringing her flowers and treats and little gifts.

But lately he had grown silent again, almost nervous, although he always seemed to be looking for excuses to spend time in the office with her. Today, he seemed more pre-occupied than ever, just on the verge of something important.

Xandria's eyes widened as she watched him, and she felt a small frisson of panic in her chest. Maybe he had finally worked up the courage to strike out on his own, away from the circus, she thought. Part of her hoped so, for his own happiness, but the selfish part of her hoped not, for she would miss him terribly.

Maso finished the books with a flourish and closed them. Xandria suddenly found her paperwork extremely interesting as he looked up.

The young man rose smoothly and arched his back. Then he turned his gaze to Xandria.

Here it comes, she thought.

"I'd like to take you out to dinner tonight. And then maybe to a movie."

Nope, didn't expect that. "What?" she said.

"You know, we're always here working," Maso said. "I'd like to take you out. Someplace nice."

Xandria stared at him until he lowered his eyes, his dark lashes sooty against his skin. "Are you asking me for a..." she couldn't quite say it.

"A date," he finished for her. "And, yes." He flushed pink. "I'd like to... court you."

Xandria continued to stare, and it took her a long moment to find her voice. "Maso," she said gently, "I'm old enough to be your mother."

He moved suddenly towards her, down on one knee to bring his head level with hers. "Is that how you think of me?" he said, leaning in until their faces were only inches apart. "As a son?"

Xandria drew a shaky breath, and then she was trembling. When her voice came, it was a tiny squeak. "No... but it... wouldn't..."

And then his large hands were cupping her face, and his warm lips were covering hers, and they kissed, gently, tenderly, but with an urgency, as though the moment would be snatched away.

Xandria took hold of Maso's left wrist with one hand and wound the fingers of the other through his thick, black hair.

"Xandria," he murmured, "Te amor... charisimo... bella..."

Still kissing, they rose together to their feet, and Maso wound his arms around her, enfolding her body in them, and held her tight.

She pressed her face against his neck. "Maso... Tomaso... my beautiful boy," she whispered.

She inhaled deeply, drawing in the scent of his skin: sweat and sunshine and sawdust.

Echo Park, later that summer~

They were married in the center ring, right after the last Los Angeles performance of the year, by an amused Justice of the Peace brought out for the occasion. An L.A. Times reporter and photographer recorded the event and did a nice write-up for the "human interest" section.

Maso had proposed to his bride the first night in town, presenting her with a plain gold band his father had given his mother thirty years before and a letter from Bruno Amoroso in Boca Raton giving the young man permission to marry his "daughter."

The bride wore a white satin gown with pink and blue beads especially constructed for the occasion by Ingrid, the head seamstress. She was attended by Judy and Judy's baby daughter, Lucy, who wore matching purple skirts.

The groom wore a tuxedo borrowed from Lewis Junior. It didn't fit badly.

The ceremony was short, of necessity, and they had barely said "I do" before the tent was struck and loaded onto the train. Maso lifted Xandria over their now-shared compartment's threshold a moment before the train lurched forward.

Xandria tossed her veil onto the desk and climbed onto the brand-new double bed to reach the train window. She lowered it and leaned into the wind as they gathered speed. "Goodbye, Los Angeles," she called.

Maso drew up beside her, one arm protectively on her waist.

"Happily ever after, here we come."

Epilogue: New York City, 1967~

The last boxes were carried up the gangplank as a few stragglers lingered on the pier before boarding. Circus American, renamed Circus International, was moving, lock, stock, and every sequined leotard, to Europe, where the traditional traveling circus still thrived.

Rosa, Maso's younger sister and head of the Bellini clan since Carlo's retirement, held Xandria tight, her eyes filled with tears. "I will miss you both so much," she said. "Please. It's not too late. Come with us to Europe."

"We'll miss you, too," Xandria said, "but I've been with the circus thirty-five years. And ten years at Coney Island before that. It's time to settle down."

Rosa let Xandria go and threw her arms around Maso, sobbing. Ringo, Xandria's monkey, leapt from the man's shoulder back to Xandria's with a startled shriek. Xandria turned to Lewis Junior, who'd taken her job as general manager.

"And you," she said, her voice thick with emotion, "you take care of her."

Lewis gave his wife, Rosa, a fond smile. "I will," he said.

"The circus, too," Xandria said. "I hear you're mismanaging things, I'm on the next plane."

"Yes, ma'am," Lewis said.

More goodbyes were said, and at last Xandria and Maso were alone on the pier, watching the Phaedra sail off to the east.

"You sorry?" Xandria asked.

"About what?"

"Giving it all up. You're still a young man, Maso. You could have had a long career with the circus."

Maso put a hand on Xandria's cheek, tilting her face to his. "Not for an instant."

Xandria melted, as she always did looking into Maso's eyes. "Oh, my beautiful boy," she said, and they fell into each others' arms.

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