Their Seer
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Threesomes/Moresomes
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,770
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Threesomes/Moresomes
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,770
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Their Seer
Title: Their Seer
Author: ciceronian
Feedback: Please, I crave it.
Disclaimer: All that you know was not created by me.
Pairings: Could be tricky, can't really explain for a few more chapters.
Prologue
Earlier, Los Angeles, California
Andrew continued nattering on. “Well mostly, I talk to Rupert. But we all check in. Xander’s in Africa. He sent me…”
Somewhere in Mali, Africa
Xander folded the tent quickly and placed it in the small carrying bag that had come with it. He’d known that despite the high cost he would come to appreciate the ease of use on mornings like this and he was right, it was one of the best purchases he had made. Tossing the bag into the canoe he lifted the small craft and carried it down to the water’s edge.
Xander walked into the warmed waters of the Niger River settling the canoe far enough out that he wouldn’t get stuck on the sand. He climbed into the canoe, careful not to tip it over and knock his stuff into the water. Once he was settled he picked up the oar and begin to row, his timed strokes carrying him through the water swiftly. One of the harder things about navigating this river was that you had to be on constant lookout for sandbars where the waters had receded. The drought made the river hard to travel for any of the larger vessels but he had seen one or two Pinasse. The motorized canoes usually carried groups of tourists on their way to Timbuktu. He had passed one such group yesterday in the early afternoon. The tourists had called out loud and boisterous greetings as they waved to him from their position stuck on a sandbar in the middle of the river.
Xander had waved and then shared a look with the tour guides that were attempting to shift the boat from its position. They had waved him off, knowing that they dealt with that kind of thing all the time he had continued on his way. He didn’t really fit in with either group, neither a tourist nor a local. The deep golden tan that had set in somewhere back in Mozambique set him apart from the tourists easily. Their skin was usually pink or sometimes red, their light skin not used to the sun’s relentless and harsh rays. Their choice of dress, the cameras, and lots of baggage also screamed ‘tourist.’ Xander couldn’t recall the last time that he carried more than his tent, his weapons, and one or two changes of clothes.
He had been here for some time now, not long after the hellmouth had concaved. When he had first arrived in Africa he had expected the place would be full of little grass huts and wild animals everywhere. Not that you couldn’t find places like that if that was what you wanted to see but there was so much more. Large cities, villages of every size you could imagine, and there were still animals of course. One of the most beautiful sights he had seen in Mali so far was a sunset over the Niger River as the large native birds took to the sky. The only animal that he had seen that people would normally associate with this area was a group of Hippopotami. He had steered clear of them as hippos killed a high percentage of people each year and he did not wish to be added to their casualty list.
Living in Africa for most of the past year had changed him in other ways than the physical. In a lot of ways he was no longer the man that he had been, experience seemed to always do that to a person. At times he wished that he had come to this continent long before now, perhaps just after high school. Who knows what kind of person that experience would have made of him. Oxnard sure hadn’t offered much in the way of growth unless you included his short stint as a dancer, which of course he didn’t.
Looking out across the area known as the Sahel; Xander thought about how much he would miss this place when he left. Giles’ had already contacted him in regards to a slayer in France that would need to be brought to England along with the girl he would meet today. He had been based in Africa for such a short time but he had already begun to feel more at home here than he ever had in Sunnydale. Felt more like himself than he ever had before. He knew he wouldn’t stay in England long once he delivered the girls to the Council but he didn’t know where he would be sent next. Buffy and Dawn were in Rome and as much as he would like to visit the girls, Buffy’s new love interest grated on his nerves. Worse even than Angel, if that was possible.
Willow and Kennedy were in Brazil but he hated to interrupt their time together as Willow was studying with a coven based in San Paulo. Though to hear Andrew tell it, they spent most of their time in Rio anyway. Maybe he would take some time off, travel just for the sake of it instead of traveling to find slayers that needed to be trained.
Looking around Xander realized he was getting close to his destination. He was looking forward to his arrival in Niafounké and meeting his new charge. Granted the language barrier was always a problem but he was rather proud of his limited French if he did say so himself. He hadn’t taken it in high school so all he had learned he had picked up from a secondhand phrase book. It got him through what he needed to impart and where that left off hand gestures seemed to work. Though from what the psychic who worked with the council was saying there was a strong possibility of this girl speaking English.
When he arrived in the village he pulled the canoe out of the water and spoke with a child who promised to watch it until he returned, either that or he’d said that he would burn it. He had trouble understanding when the child began speaking so rapidly. Xander wasn’t really worried about the canoe but if the child wished to watch the canoe for a few dollars then Xander would let him. Walking through the village he asked for directions that led him past a mosque before coming to the home of Aoua.
A young girl, who must only be fourteen if she was a day, swiftly answered the light knock on the door. She spoke quickly in French and Xander had a difficult time comprehending anything so he decided on something easy. “Bonjour, Je m’appelle Alexander Harris. Je…”
“I understand English.” From further in the house Xander heard someone call out in French. Before he could inform her why he was there she ushered him inside the house and towards the voice that was speaking. The explanation did not take long as Aoua had been having the slayer dreams. The dreams, or rather nightmares depending on whom you asked always helped to make things easier, smoothing the transition from normal girl to slayer. Aoua accepted it rather well, much better than his last slayer who had fought him tooth and nail. She even seemed eager to get to England for training. It was obvious though that she would miss her family deeply.
They offered him accommodations for the night and naturally he couldn’t refuse being welcomed into their home. At some point, he noticed that the boy who was watching his canoe had showed up, canoe in tow. He gave him the money as promised. The farewell celebration lasted into the night but at some time Xander had to slip off for sleep. He advised Aoua to do the same but Xander neither expected nor required it of her. As soon as he lay down he fell into a deep sleep. If there was one thing he had learned in his time in Africa it was to take advantage of any instance he got to sleep.
TBC...
Author: ciceronian
Feedback: Please, I crave it.
Disclaimer: All that you know was not created by me.
Pairings: Could be tricky, can't really explain for a few more chapters.
Earlier, Los Angeles, California
Andrew continued nattering on. “Well mostly, I talk to Rupert. But we all check in. Xander’s in Africa. He sent me…”
Somewhere in Mali, Africa
Xander folded the tent quickly and placed it in the small carrying bag that had come with it. He’d known that despite the high cost he would come to appreciate the ease of use on mornings like this and he was right, it was one of the best purchases he had made. Tossing the bag into the canoe he lifted the small craft and carried it down to the water’s edge.
Xander walked into the warmed waters of the Niger River settling the canoe far enough out that he wouldn’t get stuck on the sand. He climbed into the canoe, careful not to tip it over and knock his stuff into the water. Once he was settled he picked up the oar and begin to row, his timed strokes carrying him through the water swiftly. One of the harder things about navigating this river was that you had to be on constant lookout for sandbars where the waters had receded. The drought made the river hard to travel for any of the larger vessels but he had seen one or two Pinasse. The motorized canoes usually carried groups of tourists on their way to Timbuktu. He had passed one such group yesterday in the early afternoon. The tourists had called out loud and boisterous greetings as they waved to him from their position stuck on a sandbar in the middle of the river.
Xander had waved and then shared a look with the tour guides that were attempting to shift the boat from its position. They had waved him off, knowing that they dealt with that kind of thing all the time he had continued on his way. He didn’t really fit in with either group, neither a tourist nor a local. The deep golden tan that had set in somewhere back in Mozambique set him apart from the tourists easily. Their skin was usually pink or sometimes red, their light skin not used to the sun’s relentless and harsh rays. Their choice of dress, the cameras, and lots of baggage also screamed ‘tourist.’ Xander couldn’t recall the last time that he carried more than his tent, his weapons, and one or two changes of clothes.
He had been here for some time now, not long after the hellmouth had concaved. When he had first arrived in Africa he had expected the place would be full of little grass huts and wild animals everywhere. Not that you couldn’t find places like that if that was what you wanted to see but there was so much more. Large cities, villages of every size you could imagine, and there were still animals of course. One of the most beautiful sights he had seen in Mali so far was a sunset over the Niger River as the large native birds took to the sky. The only animal that he had seen that people would normally associate with this area was a group of Hippopotami. He had steered clear of them as hippos killed a high percentage of people each year and he did not wish to be added to their casualty list.
Living in Africa for most of the past year had changed him in other ways than the physical. In a lot of ways he was no longer the man that he had been, experience seemed to always do that to a person. At times he wished that he had come to this continent long before now, perhaps just after high school. Who knows what kind of person that experience would have made of him. Oxnard sure hadn’t offered much in the way of growth unless you included his short stint as a dancer, which of course he didn’t.
Looking out across the area known as the Sahel; Xander thought about how much he would miss this place when he left. Giles’ had already contacted him in regards to a slayer in France that would need to be brought to England along with the girl he would meet today. He had been based in Africa for such a short time but he had already begun to feel more at home here than he ever had in Sunnydale. Felt more like himself than he ever had before. He knew he wouldn’t stay in England long once he delivered the girls to the Council but he didn’t know where he would be sent next. Buffy and Dawn were in Rome and as much as he would like to visit the girls, Buffy’s new love interest grated on his nerves. Worse even than Angel, if that was possible.
Willow and Kennedy were in Brazil but he hated to interrupt their time together as Willow was studying with a coven based in San Paulo. Though to hear Andrew tell it, they spent most of their time in Rio anyway. Maybe he would take some time off, travel just for the sake of it instead of traveling to find slayers that needed to be trained.
Looking around Xander realized he was getting close to his destination. He was looking forward to his arrival in Niafounké and meeting his new charge. Granted the language barrier was always a problem but he was rather proud of his limited French if he did say so himself. He hadn’t taken it in high school so all he had learned he had picked up from a secondhand phrase book. It got him through what he needed to impart and where that left off hand gestures seemed to work. Though from what the psychic who worked with the council was saying there was a strong possibility of this girl speaking English.
When he arrived in the village he pulled the canoe out of the water and spoke with a child who promised to watch it until he returned, either that or he’d said that he would burn it. He had trouble understanding when the child began speaking so rapidly. Xander wasn’t really worried about the canoe but if the child wished to watch the canoe for a few dollars then Xander would let him. Walking through the village he asked for directions that led him past a mosque before coming to the home of Aoua.
A young girl, who must only be fourteen if she was a day, swiftly answered the light knock on the door. She spoke quickly in French and Xander had a difficult time comprehending anything so he decided on something easy. “Bonjour, Je m’appelle Alexander Harris. Je…”
“I understand English.” From further in the house Xander heard someone call out in French. Before he could inform her why he was there she ushered him inside the house and towards the voice that was speaking. The explanation did not take long as Aoua had been having the slayer dreams. The dreams, or rather nightmares depending on whom you asked always helped to make things easier, smoothing the transition from normal girl to slayer. Aoua accepted it rather well, much better than his last slayer who had fought him tooth and nail. She even seemed eager to get to England for training. It was obvious though that she would miss her family deeply.
They offered him accommodations for the night and naturally he couldn’t refuse being welcomed into their home. At some point, he noticed that the boy who was watching his canoe had showed up, canoe in tow. He gave him the money as promised. The farewell celebration lasted into the night but at some time Xander had to slip off for sleep. He advised Aoua to do the same but Xander neither expected nor required it of her. As soon as he lay down he fell into a deep sleep. If there was one thing he had learned in his time in Africa it was to take advantage of any instance he got to sleep.
TBC...