Latter Days by Enigmaticblue

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Summary: Set post-Chosen. After the Slayers are activated, the balance between good and evil is disturbed, and the Scoobies are flung to the far corners of the world to respond to the crisis. In the midst of all of this, will they be able to keep their relationships strong? Or will they be divided by circumstances and torn apart by fate? Follows my short story Yesterday.

Author's Notes: Remember how things went after Chosen? Well, forget about all of that, and ignore the comics. This is my version. This series is comprised of Latter Days, Faithfully Dangerous, and Now and Always, and the entire series will be known by the third title. You’ll see why. (And although some of the locations mentioned in this fic exist, this is my world, which means that I’m twisting reality to my own ends.)

“What a beautiful piece of heartache/This has all turned out to be/Lord knows we've learned the hard way/All about healthy apathy…There is a me you would not recognize, dear/Call it the shadow of myself/And if the music starts before I get there/Dance without me, you dance so gracefully/I really think I'll be okay/They've taken a toll, these latter days/Nothing like sleeping on a bed of nails/Nothing much here but our broken dream/Oh, but baby, if all else fails/Nothing is ever quite what it seems…” ~Over the Rhine, “Latter Days”

Rating: PG-13


Chapter 3: Pretoria, South Africa

“…We’re in winter now, but it’s not that cold. I heard about the Slayer you lost. I’m sorry. It’s been hard here, too. Girls marry young, and a lot of them have had some pretty traumatic experiences. Corey has been great. I couldn’t have done half of what we’ve accomplished here without her…” ~Excerpt from an email from Xander Harris to Willow Rosenberg

 

Xander eyed the new doorframe with his good eye, trying to decide whether or not it was just right. It turned out that his skills as a carpenter were in high demand, particularly when it came to renovating the building they’d found to serve as the new school and headquarters in Africa. The Council had already had a small outpost in Pretoria, and one of the professors at the university had been a part of the Watcher’s Council a number of years before. He was too infirm to go out into the field, but he was an invaluable source of information.

“It looks good,” Corey said from behind him, her accent pleasant to his ears. “If we can get the school ready this week, we should be able to begin filling the rooms.”

“‘If you build it, they will come?’” he asked.

“Is that a movie quote?” she asked, used to his random pop culture references by now.

Xander shrugged. “Yeah. It’s not important. I’m not sure that we’ll have the same kind of luck getting people to come.”

“Three girls isn’t bad,” Corey encouraged him.

“And the other two?” he asked. “What’s going to happen to them?”

For all its reputation as “the Dark Continent,” Xander hadn’t seen the demon activity that Giles reported increasing around the globe. Of course, he didn’t think much of its bad reputation; what he’d seen of Africa was beautiful.

Corey shook her head in response to his question. “It’s impossible to know, Xander, but they do know that they have a place to go if they wish it.”

One of the girls had already been married with a child, and she refused to leave either her husband or her baby. Xander understood that, but she was only fifteen. The second was the sole caretaker for her mother, who had AIDS, as did the girl.

Africa was a land of beauty, but also heartbreak.

Nàtili ran up to him, chattering in Afrikaans, then switching to heavily accented English. “Come look, Xander!”

Nàtili had been the only girl who had come with them immediately. Both of her parents were dead, and she had been alone, trying to take care of herself. She was thirteen and thrilled to be given the opportunity to go to school. Her new-found strength meant that she wouldn’t be victimized, as so many girls were.

The school was on the very edge of town, on a piece of property that had belonged to the Council for decades, since South Africa had been a colony. On the plot that would eventually be a vegetable garden lay a large, gray-green demon that Xander didn’t recognize. From behind them, Corey let out a curse.

“Do you know what it is?” he asked her.

“Yes. It is a demon native to this area. They are assassins.” Corey looked down at Nàtili. “How did this get here?”

The girl smiled proudly. “It came after me, but I swung the hoe and killed it. I did well?”

“You did great,” Xander said, seeing the hoe blade deeply embedded in the demon’s throat. “You’ll be ready to go hunting in no time.”

The girl danced a little bit, then said something to Corey in Afrikaans. When she ran off, Xander looked over at the woman. “What did she say?”

“She said that we need water, and she was going to fetch it.” She looked behind them at the wood framed building. “I will be grateful when we have running water.”

“You and me both,” Xander replied. “I should have it going in the next couple of days, maybe even before we get a bead on the next Slayer.”

“We need more adults,” Corey pointed out. “If both of us are needed to retrieve a Slayer, someone will need to stay here.”

“Giles is working on it,” he assured her. “He’s still trying to locate all of the Watchers who might have survived.”

Corey frowned. “I would have thought that would be done already.”

Xander shook his head. “The records were destroyed when the building blew. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much in the way of current data located off-site, which means that we’re starting from scratch for the most part.”

She nodded slowly. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“We hadn’t either until we got started,” Xander responded.

“Harris!” Miles came over the rise, limping and leaning on his cane heavily. “Nàtili tells me that she killed a demon.” He stopped when he saw the body. “I see your location has been discovered.”

“We had to expect it would happen, given everything that’s been going on in other parts of the world,” Xander replied.

“You’ll need to bury the body,” Miles said briskly. “It won’t bury itself, you know, and it’s doing no one any good lying about in the garden.”

“I was just getting around to it.” Xander looked at the old Watcher-cum-professor. “Is your arthritis bothering you today?”

“No more than usual.” Miles waved off his concern irritably, not liking to be reminded of his infirmity. He had informed Xander that he would have been back out in the field in a heartbeat after the First Evil had begun its assault on the Council and the Slayer line, but he’d known he would be more of a hindrance than a help.

Xander felt for the man. One of the reasons that he enjoyed his position in Africa so much was that no one here had known him before he’d lost his eye. They all assumed that he would be just fine, and that he didn’t need help unless he asked for it.

“When are the other girls arriving?” Miles asked.

“In a day or two,” Corey said. “Their parents are bringing them.”

“Will you tell them the truth?”

Corey shook her head. “No. We don’t want the school to get a reputation for being a place where strange things happen. There are still many superstitions in the area.”

“That’s true enough,” Miles replied. “By the way, Harris, Rupert called me earlier. He said that he’ll be sending a new Watcher this way.”

Xander looked over at Corey, raising an eyebrow.

She laughed. “You did say he was on it.”

He glanced up at the sky, judging that it was close to lunchtime by the position of the sun and the growling of his stomach. “Let’s get back; we can bury the demon later. I’m starving.”

~~~~~

Corey stood in the doorway of the new school and looked at the man standing under the African sky. His hands were shoved in his pockets, and he stared out into the darkness, an absent expression on his face. She knew him well enough by now to know that he was thinking of Anya. His grief for her had still been evident when they had first met, but time had a tendency to soften those rough edges.

The emails he’d received recently had seemed to renew it.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked, alerting him to her presence, if he wasn’t already aware of it.

“No, thanks.” He looked over his shoulder with his good eye. “I’ve done too much of that recently.”

“Not here.”

“No, but in Sunnydale. It got me into trouble.”

“Are you alright?”

He sighed. “I found out that someone came back from the dead.”

“Who?” she asked, having heard much about his friends from Sunnydale.

“Spike.”

“The vampire?”

“The amulet he wore to close the Hellmouth, the one that killed him, also brought him back.” He shook his head, his expression indicating disgust, but Corey couldn’t tell whether it was at himself or someone else. “I’m trying to be happy about it.”

“Is it not working?”

“Buffy was in love with him,” he said absently. “Still is. He’s back—and Anya isn’t.”

“It’s natural to be jealous,” Corey said encouragingly. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Maybe.” His lips quirked. “Anya would have hated it here, you know. She wasn’t all that thrilled with the idea of fighting anyway. She’d been a vengeance demon for so long that she wasn’t truly happy about being mortal. She was afraid of dying.”

“Who isn’t?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But she still fought.”

“She sounds very brave.”

“She was.” He reached up and rubbed his eye. “Allergies.”

Corey looked away politely, pretending not to see how choked up he was. She understood what it was to grieve; her father had been in Council headquarters when it had been blown up; she had been at the university here in Pretoria. Miles had been the one to bring her the news.

And now, suddenly, she found herself working full-time for the Council, in a capacity she’d never expected. Only a few years ago, the position she held would have been given to someone who was older, and who had more experience, and Xander Harris would never have come.

She missed her father, but she thought that some of the changes might have done the Council good.

“I don’t think it would have worked,” Xander said abruptly. “Too much had happened between us, and we weren’t the same people we had been before.”

“Before what?”

“Before the First, before I left her at the altar.” He didn’t look at her. “Do you ever look back and not recognize yourself?”

She didn’t respond immediately, giving his question some thought. “I don’t know. Sometimes I don’t recognize my life now, if that’s what you mean.”

“Close enough.” Xander threw a brotherly arm across her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “I think I’m going to bed. You coming?”

“In a bit,” she replied, knowing that he wasn’t offering to share her own, but only asking whether she was coming inside soon.

Corey knew all too well that he didn’t look at her in that way, and she had every intention of keeping her fancy a secret. He was a good friend, and that was enough.

She looked down at her hands, at the calluses that roughened her palms, and wondered if it might have been easier had she not been too old to be activated as a Slayer when the spell was cast.

~~~~~

The phone rang in the middle of the night, which was never a good thing in Xander’s mind. He picked up, the jolt of adrenalin waking him effectively. “Yeah?”

“We have confirmation of another Slayer,” Giles said without preamble. “You need to leave immediately.”

“Do you know who and where?”

“Zimbabwe,” he replied. “And from what we’ve been able to determine, she’s an American.”

Xander sat up slowly. “How do you know?”

“Because the girl is a relative of one of our remaining Watchers. The family linkages are complicated and unimportant.” He sighed. “We lost track of her when the Council blew up, and her parents were against any sort of training.”

“She won’t have much of an option now,” Xander said, regret coloring his tone. None of the girls who had been Chosen had much of a choice. “Directions?”

“Dawn is emailing your travel itinerary right now, and I’ll call Miles to stay at the school.”

“We had a demon here earlier,” Xander objected. “Corey said it was an assassin demon native to the area. Nàtali took care of it with a hoe.”

“Precocious Slayer,” Giles observed. “Good for her.”

“Yeah, but if we have an onslaught—”

“I’m sending another Watcher your way,” he said.

Xander frowned. “What, right now? I thought it would be a couple of weeks.”

“I wasn’t sure who I could spare who would be suited to your situation,” Giles said, his tone sharp. “But I have found him.”

“Him?”

“He’s seventeen, and he’s spent time in Africa,” Giles explained.

Xander’s eyes widened. “Seventeen? Isn’t that a little young?”

“No younger than the Slayers, and he volunteered.”

Xander sighed. “Fine. What’s his name?”

“Bertrand Whitney-Jones.”

“Poor kid.”

“Be that as it may, he speaks a number of languages, including Afrikaans and several demonic languages, and he’s proficient with weapons.”

It sounded as though Giles was trying to sell the kid. “I’m not buying him, Giles. You’re sending him as a gift. What do I need to know?”

“He’s a little—zealous.”

Xander groaned. “You’re sending me another Andrew?”

“Hmm,” Giles replied noncommittally. “He has some maturing to do, but I’m certain that he will be of use. I’ll talk to you soon, Xander.”

Xander heard the dial tone before he could object, and he groaned again, louder this time. The last thing he needed was some green kid running around, acting like he was the next great demon hunter. The only know-it-all he liked was Willow.

He rose and threw some clothing on, then headed to Corey’s room and knocked briskly. “We’ve got a new Slayer.”

Her head popped out, dark braids pulled back in a long ponytail. “I heard the phone ring. Was that Mr. Giles?”

“Yeah, he says there’s a baby Watcher headed our way.”

“How much of a baby?”

“Seventeen and very enthusiastic, according to Giles.”

Corey smirked. “I know how to break him in; don’t worry about that. Where’s the new Slayer?”

“Zimbabwe,” Xander replied. “She’s a missionary kid, according to Giles, and somehow related to one of the Council members. Sounds like her parents might not be thrilled with us showing up.”

“That doesn’t sound promising.” Corey shrugged. “Let me finish getting my stuff together, and I’ll join you.”

“I have to download our itinerary anyway. You’ll tell Nàtili that we’re heading out?”

Corey’s eyes narrowed. “What if she comes with us?”

“She doesn’t have papers.”

“Yes, she does,” Corey replied. “They came by post today.”

Xander thought about it for a moment. “I suppose that would take care of the problem of leaving her here by herself. Miles will probably do better if the only person he has to worry about is the new Watcher.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Corey promised.

Xander gave her a lopsided smile. “Thanks, Cor. I wouldn’t be able to do this without you.”

Her return smile seemed a little wistful, but Xander chalked it up to her lost sleep and the long days that faced them.

~~~~~

Bertrand Whitney-Jones stepped off the plane and into the African sun. He’d jumped at the opportunity to come to South Africa, and the head Watcher had agreed because he was one of the few Watchers in training who spoke both Afrikaans and Swahili, courtesy of his mother.

And his mother had been at Council headquarters with his father when the First had blown up the building. He wanted to be out in the field, doing something, rather than just sitting in a classroom.

Now he had the chance to make a real difference.

“Bertrand!”

He winced at the name even as he headed towards the speaker, an older gentleman who looked vaguely familiar. “Hello. Have we met?”

“Miles Bennett. I was a friend of your mother’s,” the man said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Do you have more luggage?”

“One case,” he replied. “And my friends call me Whit.”

“Much easier than Bertrand,” Miles agreed. “You’ll call me Miles, of course. I was a great admirer of your mother, you know. She was a wonderful lady.”

“She was.” Whit found his bag in the pile and slung it over his shoulder, trying not to stagger under the weight. The last time he’d seen his mother, she had commented on his sudden growth spurt and the resultant lankiness. “You’ll grow into yourself, my boy.”

She wouldn’t be around to see it.

“I was sorry to hear about her death,” Miles was saying. “We lost a number of invaluable assets that day.”

Whit didn’t much like talking about it, although he’d met several people who all said the same thing: his parents, particularly his mother, had been wonderful, and would be sorely missed. He was well aware of that fact; he missed them more than he could say.

“We did.” Then, in an abrupt subject change, he asked, “Where is Xander? I’ve been looking forward to meeting him.”

“He was called away to collect another Slayer,” Miles replied. “He and Corey took the sole Slayer at the school with them. I daresay they aren’t entirely sure that I can care for a child of Nàtali’s age.”

“How old is she?”

“Perhaps twelve?” Miles guessed. “You realize that many of the Slayers are too young to go out into the field by all rights. Unfortunately, we may not have much time to wait for them to grow up.”

Whit frowned, tossing his gear into Miles’ Land Rover. “What do you mean?”

Miles shook his head. “I’ll let Xander tell you when he returns. Let’s just say that we may soon have more trouble than we can feasibly deal with.”

Whit didn’t like the sound of that.

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