Sword and Stake Home     Gen/Ensemble Page     Shippy (M/F) Page     Slash (M/M) Page     Short Stories Page

 

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   3   4   5   6   7   8   9  10  11  12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20  21  22  23  24  25

26   27   28   29   30

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

 

Chapter Two

Dawn and Xander settled into the new apartment with a minimum of fuss. It was partially furnished, and after a brief argument over who was to take the larger bedroom—both insisting the other take it—they sat on the couch to make a list of the things they'd need to set up housekeeping. Dawn's bag rose in the air and they watched with interest as it floated into the master bedroom. Shortly afterward, Xander's carryall took up residence in the secondary bedroom and the decision was made.

Dawn put the list of linens, foodstuffs, and necessary supplies, down on the coffee table and stretched. So far, having a ghostly roommate was pretty cool—but then, it took a lot to freak out Sunnydale alumni. She tried to imagine how she'd feel if she'd been an ordinary girl from Kansas or somewhere . . .

The pen rose and a question was added to the shopping list.

Where's Cordy?

“You were her friend, weren't you?” Dawn asked. “What's your name?”

Dennis. She called me Phantom Dennis. It was a . . . thing. Where did she go?

Xander took a deep breath. “I'm sorry, Dennis. She's dead. She was in a coma for a long time, and then she died.”

A wave of sadness seemed to fill the apartment, and then the sense of the presence lessened.

“I think he went off somewhere to grieve,” Dawn said.

“Well, we'd better get this list done. We've got moving-in shopping to do. We'll talk with him later.”

Dawn nodded.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It took four trips to carry everything from the car to the new apartment, but when they had finished, they both felt they had found a home. The beds were made with new sheets and comforters, and fluffy pillows for Xander and firm ones for Dawn. Coordinating sets of pale blue and midnight blue towels shared the bathroom cupboard with shampoos, conditioners, body-wash and other necessities. The kitchen was stocked and the refrigerator was full. Dawn opened a carton of orange juice and poured them each a glass as they surveyed the shelves containing fruit, vegetables, ground beef, chicken breasts, yogurt and other groceries.

“You wanna go out for pizza?” Xander asked.

“Oh, yeah. After all that shopping, I'm beat.”

“A Summers woman tired of shopping? I never thought I'd live to see the day!”

“Shut up and let's go—I'm starving. I can taste those anchovies already.”

Xander was horrified. “Anchovies? No, no! No anchovies! Pepperoni is the only official pizza topping. Anchovies aren't even real food. They're more like . . . bait.”

“Half pepperoni, half anchovy?”

“As long as none of those slimy things get on my half, okay. Deal.”

“Deal.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The attack came out of nowhere. Pleasantly replete after a dinner of pizza and beer for Xander—Coke for Dawn—they began the short walk to their new home. They made the left turn onto their street when suddenly, three vampires surrounded them. Xander's fingers crept toward the stake he always carried in his jacket pocket as he cursed himself for not being more prepared. He knew better. He knew what lurked in the dark, and he'd gotten careless.

They never should have lingered at the pizza place until well after dark. They hadn't done any kind of recon on their new neighborhood. Just because he hadn't come across any demons — bad demons, he automatically corrected himself, as echoes of Anya's voice reminded him to differentiate — or vampires during his sojourn in LA didn't mean they weren't there. They were definitely there. Or 'here', as the case may be.

The vampires were toying with them. Grinning. The three lazily circled, not coming closer, just making their presence known. What did they have to fear from a one-eyed man and a teenaged girl?

Dawn edged behind him to keep the third vampire in view. They only had one stake between them, and Xander swore silently at his lack of foresight. Apparently 'foresight' was in short supply when you only had one eye, he thought, with a brief flash of bitterness.

Years of practice and a flash of something in the yellow eyes in front of him told Xander that at least this vampire was preparing to attack. He gripped his stake as the vampire leapt for him, maintaining his hold on the piece of wood, as he plunged it into the vampire's heart. The shower of dust seemed to be the signal for the other two to attack simultaneously. Xander whirled, as he clutched his stake and attempted to keep both in view. Green energy sparked from Dawn's hands as she murmured words in something that sounded like Latin. The green glow faded, and the vampires were gone.

Xander's mouth hung open. “What did you just do? How did you do that?”

Dawn looked every bit as shocked as Xander. “I don't know! I'm not sure what I did. I read some books at Willow's last summer when I was bored, and just now the words popped into my head and I said them and then there was like this energy and poof! No more vampires.”

“Can you do it again?”

Dawn stretched out her hands and concentrated. “Nope. The words are gone. I don't even remember what they were. Can we go home now? I'm kinda beat.”

“Sure. We'll talk later.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Xander!”

Xander leapt to his feet. He had stretched out on the couch while Dawn grabbed the first shower, and was half asleep when her shout brought him to his feet. He rushed to the bathroom and jiggled the doorknob.

“Dawn! Are you okay in there? What is it?”

“Oh! Hang on a sec.”

Dawn jumped out of the shower and unlocked the door. “Just a second,” she said as she wrapped a towel around herself and then stepped back into the tub. She stuck her head out from behind the shower curtain and called, “You can come in now.”

Xander opened the door. “What is it? What's wrong, Dawn?”

Her arm snaked out from behind the shower curtain and she pointed at the mirror. The steamy shower had left a film on the mirror, and printed in the condensation were the words: Your friends aren't dead.

“Our friends aren't dead? What friends?” Xander wondered.

“Go get a paper and pen or something,” Dawn urged. “Go with Xander, Dennis, 'cause I want to get dressed and I can't if you're still here.”

While he waited for Dawn, Xander got out a yellow legal pad and a marker that he placed on the coffee table. The thought of the coffee table triggered a subliminal urge, and he went into the kitchen to make coffee. Coffee would be good. Something a lot stronger would be better, but he'd done the grocery shopping with Dawn, and just couldn't bring himself to stock up on whiskey. Xander grinned. The heavy drinking was Alex's coping method—coffee would do just fine for Xander.

Clad in pajamas with her wet hair wrapped in a towel, Dawn was curled up on one end of the couch when Xander brought the coffee in. He handed her a cup and she smiled gratefully.

“Ohmigod, Xander! You bought French vanilla. You are like the best roommate ever!”

“French vanilla, mocha, hazelnut, cinnamon-spice and regular, ordinary, coffee-flavored coffee. I aim to please. Either that, or open my own Starbucks.”

Dawn poked him in the arm and said teasingly,  “Come on, admit it, Xan.  You just couldn't remember which was my favorite!”

His gentle brown eye met hers and he softly recited, “French vanilla for you, mocha for Buffy, hazelnut for Tara, cinnamon-spice for Willow. Never fear—the women in my life trained me well. I just couldn't bring myself to buy Anya's Irish Cream, so I hope you don't get a sudden craving because . . .”

Dawn laid her palm on his forearm and squeezed gently. “I'm sorry, Xander.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

The marker rose in the air and separated. The top fell to the coffee table and the marker wrote on the pad: Low-fat, half-caf, extra-foam cappuccino with chocolate shavings.

Xander laughed. “Yep. That's our Cordy. What's up, Dennis? What friends aren't dead?”

The pen began moving rapidly over the legal pad and a feeling of excitement pervaded the room.

Dawn and Xander looked questioningly at each other, and then both leaned over the table to watch.

I saw her! I talked to her. Thanks to you both, I found her and she's going to help me settle in when it's all over, but for now, she says I need to stay here and help you.

“You talked to Cordy?”

Yes, yes! She's going to help me cross over, but later. She needs me here for now. She was the best friend I ever had. I'd do anything for her.

Dawn tore the top sheet from the pad and put it aside to expose fresh paper. Phantom Dennis continued to write.

Wesley and Fred are dead. They've crossed over. The others—Angel, Spike, Gunn and Illyria—are trapped somewhere. Cordy doesn't know where. Illyria used the last of her power to—

There was a pause, as if Dennis was conferring with someone to make sure he got the unfamiliar concepts correct.

She opened a dimensional portal and pushed back the demon hordes, but the power backlash sent Cordy's friends somewhere else. The demons are trapped in one dimension and they are in another. I don't know what this means, but Cordy says you'll understand. You've got to find out where they are and get them out.

“Okaaaay . . . and just how are we supposed to do this?” Xander asked.

The pen moved slowly and the writing was fainter, as if Dennis had expended his store of psychic energy for the present.

Connor can find them and Dawn is the key

The pen fell to the table and rolled, and the sense of presence was gone.

Dawn and Xander stared at each other.

“Who's Connor?” they asked simultaneously.

“I think we're gonna need some help on this one, Xan. I think we better call—”

“Willow.” They finished the sentence in tandem.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The phone conversation lasted far into the night, as they all filled each other in on what had been happening in their lives. The uncomfortable separation of the last few years gradually dissipated, and Willow and Xander rediscovered the strong connection they had had since childhood. Dawn was now accepted as a fully-functioning member of the team.

They really had just been drifting, Willow thought. It was good to have an actual purpose—a mission—to focus on again. She felt intrigued and excited about the prospect of getting back to work.

“The problem is, we don't have any idea who this Connor is that's supposed to help us,” Xander continued.

Willow felt a niggling sense of . . . something. As if she'd once known Connor and had somehow forgotten. Maybe when she got to LA, it would come back to her.

All three were in agreement that they wouldn't say anything to Buffy at this time. She'd had to 'kill' Angel and watched Spike die—both had come back once already. She'd finally accepted that both were gone for good and had made some kind of peace with that and gone on with her life. Neither Xander, Dawn, nor Willow wanted to tell her that maybe they weren't really dead after all. Not when everything was still so nebulous and they had no idea if they'd ever be able to find them, let alone retrieve them from whatever dimension they were now inhabiting. For now, they'd be the Three Musketeers—all for one and one for all.

Willow had been researching flights on her laptop while they spoke, and informed them that she could fly to Mexico City the next day, and after an overnight layover, she'd be getting into LAX the following day.

“Sounds like a plan. I'm really glad you're coming, Will,” Xander concluded. “I've really missed you.”

“Me, too,” Willow added softly. “See you soon, Dawnie.”

Dawn flung herself into Xander's arms and he whirled her around.

The Scoobies were back in business.

 

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

 

Continue to Chapter Three

 

 

Sword and Stake Home     Gen/Ensemble Page     Shippy (M/F) Page     Slash (M/M) Page     Short Stories Page