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Out of Africa
by spikeNdru
Genre: Gen; Action/Adventure
Pairings: Xander and Ensemble; no pairings yet.
Rating: PG-13
Timeline: Two years post-Chosen
Disclaimers: The characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox; they aren't currently using
them so I'm borrowing them for awhile.
Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25
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Chapter Ten
They called out to have a variety of Chinese dishes delivered for dinner. Willow and Dawn opened all the cartons and set them out on the coffee table, buffet-style. Xander went to the kitchen for paper plates and napkins; plastic forks and chopsticks had come with the meal. Faith reached for a fortune cookie and cracked it open. The longest journey begins with a single step, she read.Faith wasn't generally given to introspection, but she thought about her “fortune”. It made sense. She used to think that her path was set when she became a slayer. Later, she thought it began when she accidentally killed that guy, the Mayor's assistant. What was his name? Why couldn't she remember his name? You'd think that if you ended someone's life with your own hands, you could at least remember his fucking name!
Everybody expected her to be all sorry and remorseful about it, and she was! She had been from the very beginning, but what nobody got was that she couldn't admit to those feelings, then. If she did, she'd never be able to function as a slayer again.
She'd always had darkness in her—she knew that. She'd lived with a pain-fueled rage simmering just underneath the surface for as long as she could remember. She'd tried to fight it—to control it—and she was managing to do so. It was a struggle not to act on those feelings—not to spread around some of that pain and rage—but she was winning. The shield she wrapped around herself was thin, but it was holding. Until one day, out of the blue, that hard-won control was shattered as feelings, emotions and nightmares not her own ripped into her. She was “chosen” to fight and kill. It was required of her. It was her fucking job! So she became a slayer, and another word for “slayer” was “killer”, even if B thought she could separate them out.
When you become a predator—when you spend your nights hunting and killing—you learn to do what you have to do in order to survive. Every time you face off in combat, it's you or them. Your heart starts pumping harder and faster and the adrenaline floods through your system with an incredible rush. You get in the “zone”—the place where you can channel all your pain and fear and anger and use it. Use it to do good; use it because you're supposed to be a killer. You were Chosen, after all.
Sometimes you make a mistake. Not intentionally—duh! That's why they're called “accidents”. But you can't dwell on it. You have to see it as collateral damage; unfortunate, yes, but nothing to do with you or the realities of your life. Because if you do, if you stop and think about it, if you feel sorry and guilty and remorseful, you lose that certainty that you're doing the right thing. The thing you were Chosen to do. And you hesitate. You no longer operate on training and instinct; you start to think and that can get you killed. Simple as that. Every single fight comes down to you or them.
Faith frowned. She'd handled it all wrong. She knew that now. But back then she couldn't articulate her feelings. Hell, she couldn't even identify what she was feeling! She was a sixteen-year-old kid, scared and alone, with no family, no friends, no support system. What did she know? She knew she'd seen her Watcher die screaming in agony, and she knew for damn sure she didn't want that to happen to her. The First Rule of Slaying was to stay alive. Live to fight another day. And that meant stake first, ask questions later. The guy's death—Allen? Was his name Allen?—had been an accident, but everybody'd treated her like a pariah. A stone killer. So that's what she became.
Her journey didn't begin when she was Chosen. It didn't even begin when she killed Allen. It began when she let Angel in. Only Angel saw beneath the mask; the mask she put on to be able to function—to be able to live in this world. Angel understood. He cared. He didn't judge her for the past, he showed her how to live in the present without the mask. He gave her back herself. She could never repay him for that.
Angel helped her accept responsibility for what she'd done—to Allen and Lester and Wesley—and make reparation for all the pain she'd caused. He helped her take the single step that began her journey and it would never be over until she was dead.
Life was a journey, not a series of unrelated incidents and experiences. Life had a purpose. It had meaning. Her life had meaning, thanks to Angel. And she'd do whatever she had to do to get him back.
Angel was everything to her—brother, sensai, Father confessor, psychic twin—he was her other half. Buffy might be Light to his Darkness, but she, Faith, was Darkness to his Light. Together, the three of them were a spiral. Not a circle, closed and exclusive; a circle either shut things inside or outside of its boundaries. A spiral was open-ended. Fluid. Going both up and down at the same time.
Faith was pretty sure Buffy didn't recognize this yet. B still thought of herself and Angel as a circle, when she thought of him at all. And maybe they had been—in the past. But things were different now. They'd all grown and changed. Still, Faith was glad Buffy wasn't involved with this particular mission. They needed to focus on what was really important—getting Angel, Spike, Gunn and Illyria back—and there was no room for drama or hurt feelings in the plan.
A knock on the door brought Faith out of her reverie. She slipped the fortune into her pocket and went to answer the door. Connor had arrived—complete with sleeping bag and camping gear.
“Hi, guys,” he greeted them. “I told my parents I was going camping with my friends for a week or so, so here I am.”
“Were they okay with that?” Dawn asked.
“Yeah. They would have freaked if I'd mentioned that the camping was going to take place in another, hostile dimension, so I kinda left that part out.”
“That was probably for the best,” Willow assured him. “Faith, this is Connor. You won't remember him, but you met when you went to LA to help bring Angelus in.”
Connor looked at Faith with interest. “Just as a matter of curiosity, what exactly do you remember?”
Faith thought for a moment. “Wes broke me out of jail and took me to LA where the Beast had put the sun out. The Beast kicked my ass. I stayed at Wes' apartment, although Cordelia, Gunn and Fred were at the hotel. Angelus somehow knew I was comin' for him, but Wes and I went after him anyway. Wes came up with a plan to drug Angelus through my blood and I agreed. There was a real intense 'This is Your Life' vibe goin' on, Angel conquered Angelus, Willow re-ensouled him and as soon as I recovered enough from the Orpheus to travel, Willow and I booked it back to Sunnydale to take on The First.”
“So, you do remember everything that happened, just not that I was there?” Connor asked.
“Guess so.”
“Cool.”
“Come on and eat, you two, before everything gets cold,” Willow suggested.
“You don't have to ask me twice.” Connor picked up a paper plate and made his selections.
There seemed to be a general consensus to save the serious discussion until after they'd eaten, so getting-to-know-you light chatter prevailed during dinner.
Xander got up to make coffee. He was headed toward the kitchen when Willow's cell rang.
“It's Giles,” she said as she flipped open the phone.
“Hello, Willow,” Giles said.
Xander paused, and then sat down beside Dawn.
“Hey, Giles! How are you doing?” Willow replied.
“Quite confused at the moment, I'm afraid.”
“Why? What's up?”
“I've had several rather unsettling phone calls today, so I thought I'd ring you up and see if you could shed some light on the situation.”
“Sure, if I can. Who called you?”
“I received a call from Buffy wanting to speak with Dawn. Apparently, she was under the impression that Dawn was spending the summer with me, prior to entering Oxford at Michaelmas. I had to tell her that Dawn wasn't here, but was possibly spending the summer holidays with you. I phoned your flat, and Kennedy informed me that you had gone to LA to join Xander and Dawn there. I had no sooner completed that call, when Harmony Kendall, who informs me that she is now some kind of vampire superhero who helps the hopeless, rang to ask if I had your number, as she apparently has some information for you. I agreed to relay the message, and she said she wrote her number on the back of the business card she gave to Dawn, so you can call her back. Willow . . . what the bloody hell is going on?”
“Oops! Sorry, Giles. I never even thought to call you. My bad! It's a long story, but the gist of it is: Angel's team probably didn't die in battle last year like we all thought they did. There's a chance they were sent to another dimension by a portal backlash and we think we can get them out. Dawn and Xander called me in, we did some research and Faith offered to help, so she's here, too. We have a few other allies that it would take too long to explain about, and I guess Super!Harmony wants to help, too. We decided not to say anything to Buffy yet, 'cause, you know, of all her history with Spike and Angel, and she went along with it when the rest of us thought Angel went dark when he took over Wolfram and Hart. She never mentions their names; we sort of figured she might feel bad about not trusting them when we found out later that Angel's team and Spike were really sort of undercover to take out The Black Thorn. She thinks they're both dead, so we didn't want to get her hopes up in case we can't rescue them in time. I guess that's about it.”
“You, Xander, Dawn and Faith are planning a mission involving other dimensions and not one of you thought I'd have any interest in this? I . . . I . . . I haven't any words.” Giles took a deep breath and continued. “I can understand your not wanting to tell Buffy, and I was one of those who had no faith in either Spike or Angel. I was apparently wrong, as events later proved, and I've admitted that, but . . . you are all members of the Council of Watchers; as current Head of the Council, you all supposedly report to me. This mission decidedly falls within the parameters of Council business, as it involves four ranking members, and not one of you thought to contact me?”
“I'm really sorry, Giles. This just all happened so fast, and we're still in the research and planning stages and . . .”
“And you thought I wouldn't approve? Well, I don't. I don't approve of attempting something of this magnitude without availing yourselves of all possible resources, which you have neglected to do. I trust you will want to rectify that oversight immediately, so . . . how may I help?”
Willow grinned. She covered the phone with her hand and informed the rest of the group, “Giles is in!” She then spoke into the phone. “Thanks, Giles. Like I said, we're still at the planning stage, but we could use some help with the researchiness. Anything you can tell us about Quor-Toth would be great, 'cause that's where Connor thinks they are.”
“Quor-Toth? They couldn't possibly be in Quor-Toth. There is no way to access Quor-Toth, so it's very unlikely that a portal backlash sent them there!”
“Um . . . Giles? Are you cleaning your glasses? There's a strange whispery, cloth-like sound . . . Never mind. I'm gonna put Connor on—he can explain it better. Giles, this is Connor. He's, uh, he worked with Angel's team in the past.” Willow frantically motioned to Connor and thrust the phone at him.
“Mr. Giles? This is Connor Reilly. Wilow just handed me the phone. You had some questions, sir?”
“Yes. Willow said that you believe Angel and the others may be in Quor-Toth? I'd be interested to know what led you to that conclusion. To my knowledge, Quor-Toth is completely sealed off—there is no way into or out of Quor-Toth, and there is some belief that it may even be a myth. Quor-Toth may not actually exist at all.”
“Oh, it exists, all right. I grew up there, sir. I was kidnapped as a baby by Daniel Holtz, who was working with Sahjhan. Sahjhan ripped a hole in reality to Quor-Toth and Daniel Holtz jumped through, taking me with him. Sometime later, I managed to tear my way back. I believe that these two events may have weakened the walls, so that it's possible the portal backlash sent them there.”
“Hmmm . . . theoretically, that would be possible, but why do you believe they've been sent to Quor-Toth, rather than to any of a myriad of other dimensions?”
“Mainly because another . . . ally . . . said 'Connor can find them and Dawn is the key.' I figured that since I was specifically named as the one to be able to find them, it was most probable that they were in the dimension with which I was most familiar. I could be wrong, and believe me, I'm more than willing to consider other options. I'd really rather go almost anywhere than back to Quor-Toth, but I don't think we have much choice. I've got this sinking feeling that Quor-Toth is where they are.”
“Erm . . . yes. That seems very plausible. Let me 'hit the books' as Xander and Willow would say, and I'll get back to you as soon as I have any information. Now, may I please speak with Dawn?”
“He wants to talk to you,” Connor said as he handed the phone to Dawn.
“Uh . . . yeah, Giles?”
“Dawn. Buffy and I have both been very worried about you. We had no idea where you'd gone.”
“Sorry, Giles. When nobody came to my high school graduation, I figured you were all tied up with something really important. Xander did ask me to call Buffy and let her know where I was, but I figured it didn't really matter to her. After all, I haven't even seen her in a year and a half. She palmed me off on the rest of you guys for hols, and not only didn't show, but she didn't call or even send a card when I graduated. I figured that I'm an adult now, and since no one was specifically interested in my whereabouts, I didn't need to report in. Sorry if I worried you, but I'm fine. I'm with Xander and Willow, and now Faith's here, too, so we're good.”
“Dawn—I'm sorry. I've been so busy re-organizing the Council and attempting to make sure all of the new slayers were contacted, that I quite forgot that you had finished school. Congratulations! Have you given any thought to continuing your education?”
“Of course I have! I just haven't decided yet when and where I want to go to college. I've been accepted at all the schools I applied to, including Oxford, but I haven't decided yet. And right now, I'm more concerned about rescuing Spike and Angel and the others.”
“Of course. But, if there is anything I can do to help, please don't hesitate to call upon me. And Oxford is an excellent university—it would be nice to have you close by while you pursue your studies. I hope you'll keep that in mind.”
“Sure. I really haven't decided yet, but I think I want to make this decision on my own. I'm not a little kid anymore and I need to plan my own future. Buffy and Faith never really had a choice; someone else decided that they were gonna be slayers. But I do have a choice and I want to make the most of it—I want to figure out what's right for me!”
“Very wise. Please tell the others I'll find whatever information is available on Quor-Toth, and I'll ring when I have any news. I have a friend that may have other sources, also. He's been retired for years, but he was once the best mystical psychic the Council has ever had, so I'll try to contact him to see if he has anything to add. Give my best to Xander and Faith, and take care—all of you.”
“We will. And, Giles? Thanks.”
“You're very welcome. Be safe.”
Dawn closed the cell and handed it back to Willow.
“Well,” Willow said as she slid the phone into her pocket. “That went better than expected. But how come I'm the one who got yelled at? None of the rest of you thought to call Giles, either!”
Xander grinned. “Probably because you're the only one who left her phone turned on. Mine died a few days ago and I keep forgetting to recharge it. But, you wouldn't forget. You've always been the responsible one, Will.”
“Please tell me this conversation isn't heading into Ol' reliable-dog-geyser territory again!”
“Huh?”
“Never mind, Xander. Still . . . when you're being yelled at in Giles-speak it always sounds more polite and civilized than when you're being yelled at in regular English. And, did anyone notice that Giles has become much more British since he moved back to England?”
Xander, Dawn and Faith all nodded simultaneously in agreement.
Connor's lips quirked as he tried to hold back a burst of laughter. It would be rude to laugh at his new allies, but—they looked exactly like a row of Bobblehead dolls.
Dawn added, “Yep. Although Connor doesn't have any basis for comparison, 'cause he never knew Giles during the Sunnydale years.”
“Nayah, nayah, nayah,” Xander said. “He never even asked to talk to me.”
Willow rolled her eyes.
“Me either,” Faith contributed. “Guess maybe that means Giles has lower expectations for the two of us, Xander.”
“Hey!” Xander replied. “Anyone want more coffee?”
The entire cadre looked like Bobblehead dolls.
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Continue to Chapter Eleven
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