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[14 Jan 2012|09:00pm] |
The heat was a constant burn.
It was layered thickly all over his skin, stinging, sweltering and cooking the flesh it found, over which it had become form fitting, with little notice to the carpenter. He remembered the first time he stepped foot onto the continent thinking that he would never be able to adjust to the heat. Sunnydale could put out some hot days in it’s time but nothing compared to this place. It was almost unbearable and he thought he might have been right for awhile but after spending the better part of a year roaming in the warmth, he had adapted to it. He would never enjoy the over-sensation but he could move and think quickly in it which was all that really mattered.
He had been located in Uganda, Africa for the last eight months. He wasn’t there by order of the watchers council or by orders of anyone else but himself. After Sunnydale fell, he was hit pretty hard. He was feeling real alone, a gripping sense of lost threatening to choke him down despite the support system of people he had around. It didn’t take long for him to decide that he needed to go off on his own, maybe three weeks after the last battle in which he had been basically been living in a funk, becoming nothing more than the waking dead. He needed a break from everything that tied him down to something and so he left. To his credit, he was a man about things. No disappearing without word, or letter --found in hazard-- thrown on the surface of his bed. He gathered the people who had once earned a deep part in his heart and simply told them: “I’m leaving. This is goodbye.”
Xander hadn’t decided on Africa right off the bat. He traveled the eastern side of American for a bit and then headed over to Europe. Spent time in England, France and Germany before deciding that he needed seclusion from the hordes of people he incessantly found everywhere. Xander had always thought of himself as a very simple, down to earth person in the bare of things. He needed to be in a place that reflected that. Few more weeks and he found himself stepping off a plane into a country known for it’s roaming wilderness and gaps of open spaces.
He took a large gulp of water from his canteen before passing the rest of it’s contents to the girl next to him, who had drained all of hers maybe an hour ago. Abena was a slayer he met early on in his travels, within the first month of being in the country. It took him sometime to get her to trust that he wasn’t part of the scheme of things she had to fight. Scaring her with his knowledge of what had happened to her along with scaring the elders she took him to see. After awhile, she grew comfortable around him, often asking him to go out on hunts with her. Xander was pretty sure he fascinated her, him being just a normal person --no powers-- fighting the things she fought. Seemed to be a running theme with slayers. Continually wondering why he was fighting evil.
The girl was good, a bit sloppy but she fought with everything she had. A real raw energy that reminded him of Faith occasionally.
“Thank you, Mr. Harris.” He shook his head lightly at what she referred to him as. He had long ago given up at trying to get her to just call him Xander.
Her English was a bit broken but overall she had a firm understanding of it and that’s all their relationship needed to thrive. She would ask basic questions and he would go on and on about everything and nothing. It was nice being about to talk about everything that had happened to him with someone who would make no judgment. Who had not been there. It had helped him work out a whole lot of stuff in his life. And she loved to listen, always watching him eagerly when he spoke.
“No problem `bena, we should probably start heading back ya` think?”
She nodded her agreement and they set off in a different direction.
“Tell me again… `bout the vampires with soul.” She still couldn’t wrap her head around the notion and he couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t a simple thing.
“Well, I pretty much told you Angel’s deal in full so I guess we can skip to dead boy jr.” He paused for a moment, russet eye looking over the scene around him absently. “Spike was your atypical retro punk 1970's sort of villain when I first met him, then he was your atypical retro punk 1970's anti-hero last I saw him... anyway, he wasn't especially clever, but not stupid either. You know -- some guys, they just don't live on brains, they live on instinct. Spike, he was one of those guys. More guts than brains is a good way of putting it, I guess. Back in the olden days, before there were slayers on every street corner, Spike killed two slayers. He really lived up to the title ‘Big Bad’ -- but then he got his brain hot-wired by the U.S Government.”
Taking noticed of her dismayed and slightly apprehensive look, he added. “Oh, don't worry, they only do that to vampires and assorted evil things… I think. Spike somehow developed this twisted obsession for Buffy, which somehow created an odd turn of events and he started getting all morally and good on us. His story is kind of like Thomas the Train’s. No matter how many times we insulted him, and sent him away-- he kept chugging along the tracks towards the ‘Good Guy Station‘, blowing his cockney whistle at us; It sounded something like ‘bleedin` bugger, tooo tooo'. Long story short, one day the train arrived at the Good Guy Station and we embraced him, albeit with stakes in our hands."
The stalks swayed all around them as they covered the barren land. They were currently traveling along the Western Rift Valley, which runs from north to south through the western half of the country. It was as low as three thousand feet on the floor of Lake Edward and Lake George.
“Is that all? Does he now help your friends?”
Xander cringed for a moment. "No, he came back with a soul, details of how he got it were omitted however. I think he got it from a Cracker Jack box myself, you can find anything in those things. But uh, moving on, he was accepted back quickly despite… some past issues. I don’t know, I don’t really feel like getting into it now so lets just say he did a really good thing and isn’t around anymore period. Besides, there's classes on this stuff the Watcher Council gives out. They can probably explain it better than I can -- even though I was there." Xander finished hastily, stopping and lifting a hand to run through his locks as if a make shift comb.
Abena came to stop in front of him, about to ask about his reaction but something caught her gaze.
It’s frame was massive, very heavy set muscles guarded against being exposed to the world by a thick white leathery hide. The demon’s jaw was filled to the brim with cracked and jagged teeth, all stained red with the conquest of past hunts. The African slayer’s eyes widened almost comically as the beast started to lurk forward and over towards them. She called out to Xander who took no notice of the happenings, his back to the scene.
“Mr. Harris. White devil! White devil!”
The carpenter looked up alarmed, his eye becoming just as wide. “What are you talking about, Abena? You know I-I’m nothing like that, right?!”
The slayer continued to stare past him before snapping out of her trance and lunging forward at Xander and pulling them both out of the way of the demon’s swinging arm. They hit the ground with a thud, and Xander struggled to get to his feet quickly. “What the hell wa-” The demon finally came into his view. “-oh holy shit.”
The African slayer was back standing as if she had never hit the ground and assumed a fighting stance. Xander took a similar one, with sword in hand and watched as the demon seemed off-put. He wasn’t sure who he wanted to go after first. The ones back in the states didn’t care, they seemed to just go for any kill. Maybe the fact that he had come across prey that seemed to be fighting back confused the creature. Too bad it didn’t last longer than a second before it moved to attack Abena, who looked more familiar to it.
The start of the fight was slow, Abena not landing any blows but rather ducking under each powerful swing of the beast’s arms. Xander stood off to the side for a moment, looking over the demon for any signs of apparent weakness. This thing didn’t seem to have any real gimmick to it so he concluded the usual method of slaying would do. Beheading. The African slayer finally started to get in the heat of things, throwing jabs at the demon’s sides. It roared with rage, not once being able to touch the small being. Not wanting this to drag out for longer than it had to be, Xander shifted around behind the thing. The plan would have worked with ease but the demon took notice of the carpenter’s movements and turned to deal with him, finding no desired conclusion with the girl. Xander tossed her the sword while throwing a hefty haymaker to the white creature’s jaw. Thing was like made out of fucking stone or something. It swiped it’s claw against the ex scooby’s chest, propelling him backwards and to the ground once more.
This was one of those situations that could turn out really grim but luckily for him, he traveled with a girl quite capable of herself. The demon’s head came rolling to the ground moments later, an awkward look holding it’s features in place.
“Are you alright, Mr. Harris?” Abena asked, her voice hinting at concern.
“Fine, fine. Guy was a push over, couldn’t you tell? He totally pushed me over.” She smiled slightly, over time coming to understand anytime he made a profusely bad joke, he was indeed alright. He took her offered hand and was pulled to his feet. “Very nice work, `bena.” Xander said while wiping the dirt from his pants and the sleeves of his shirt. The dark skinned girl just blushed and they started back on their way home.
The journey was quick, a few easy going questions and answer filling up the time. Once they neared the edge of town, he could see a man running over towards them. He looked excited.
“Mr. Harris, Mr. Harris. There is phone call for you. Buf-…” He looked up, thinking over how to say it again. “Buf-fy Summers.”
Xander’s brows arched in surprise and question. A phone call from Buffy… and then his mood darkened. It was clear this wasn’t going to be good news. It was either two things. End of the world or her and Angel were getting married and he was invited to the wedding.
"Girl can't even drive a car without running over half the mailboxes on a street but somehow can track me down in Africa and get the right phone number." He muttered more to himself than the other two.
He threw the girl next to him a quick smile. “Suppose I should go see what Buffster wants, save me a spot at the fire?”
Abena nodded and so he turned and followed the man back to where impending doom surely waited in the form of a phone call.
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