Large PrintHandheldAudioRating
Twisting The Hellmouth Crossing Over Awards - Results
Rules for Challenges

Bora Bora

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking

Summary: BtVS/xXx Crossover, Slash, Xander Harris/Xander Cage, Post Chosen//Post Movie. After leaving Africa Xander felt restless. Giles let him choose his new assignment as a Watcher. Xander chose Bora Bora and decided to look up an old friend.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Movies > XXXSeverusslaveFR1866,02415420,40425 Aug 0615 Sep 08No

Divorcing Africa


Title: Bora Bora
Author: Severusslave
Rating: Mature Audiences
Crossover: BtVS/xXx
Pairing: Xander Harris/Xander Cage
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story, nor do I own any rights to the television show "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" or the movie "xXx".
Betas: Scribewraith, Fragilecat, Victoriaely
Notes: This story is a part of my claim for the livejournal community crossover100. I claimed Xander Harris and this is going to be the story for the prompt #80 'Island'. Also: I couldn't possibly resist the lure of Vin Diesel.

Chapter 1:

Divorcing Africa

Xander had known for months now that Africa wanted him no longer: on her plains, or in her rivers and swamps, in her sandy deserts. He'd done her good, taught her daughters, made them deal with her diseases, so she did not kill him and make him hers to mingle with the dirt.

But she wanted him gone. For Africa was clean again and emancipated and old, old, old, and all Xander did to her now was steal her daughters. Thus Xander went to the wisest woman, asked and got an answer. Thus he prayed and buried his arms into the earth to tell Africa he would leave.

Two weeks later he entered a plane bound to Heathrow in Kagali, Rwanda after having traveled by means of magic, chopper and plain old hiking through Burundi, Tanzania and Mozambique where he had left his message.

It was not until Xander stepped out of the plane and set a foot onto European land - which had been a complicated undertaking in Heathrow with all it's concrete and carpet and escalators - that Africa let go of him. Xander instantly felt bereft. And sad.

He called the British Watchers headquarters and arranged for a car to pick him up. As he watched the buildings flash by Xander honestly couldn't say that he had missed this. Civilization. He saw all kinds of different people walking along the streets and barely found a face that looked happy.

That evening he had supper with Giles, Faith and Andrew, telling tales and describing the different marriage rituals of eight tribes - for that was the common and easiest way of getting a warrior maiden out of her village - while sipping apple cider and dipping white bread pieces into left over red wine sauce. He had a good time sitting with his friends remembering the wilderness and vastness of Africa.

Xander already felt restless.

The next days, weeks, Xander tried to find his new place inside the council. Only two of the girls he found and trained were still in England and not already responsible for an area the size of Spain. Talking, training and patrolling with them was what kept him somewhat sane those weeks. They did not care about the latest whatnot or which DJ was playing in what club or if their brown trousers were the latest fashion in combination with a turquoise piece of nothing as a top.

Their days were for sleep and food and family and the earth; the night for the fight.

Xander had asked Giles for a heavy, leatherbound blank book, one that would last, and spent most of his daytime filling it with details and descriptions on demonic activity in the parts of Africa he had travelled through. He wasn't that great an artist but the look of a three meter tall, insectoid, venomous Hrr demon does not fade in one's memory: particularly if it tried to feed you to its larvae. He made do. Xander had worked his way through the North-West - Morocco, Algeria, Mauritania, Mali, Senegal, Guinea, Burkina Faso, Niger and Nigeria - and had filled the first eleven pages of the third volume as Giles had sat down on Xander's bed, next to his desk, and watched him. Xander ended his sentence, capped his ball point pen - no annoyingly fading-with-the-centuries ink for the Xan-man, no, no - and turned to his friend. Giles handed him four thin folders. He shuffled through them: China, Xi'an, 14yrs. Costa Rica, Limón, 13yrs. France, French Polynesia, Leeward Islands, Bora Bora, 16yrs. Vietnam, Da Nang, 16yrs.

The choice was not a difficult one. He returned the folders for China, Costa Rica and Vietnam back to Giles. He had the Bora Bora file open and was looking at the printed film still of a seemingly frail, Asian girl kicking a high kick against a blurred man inside a dojo as Giles took hold of his head and turned it towards him, pressed a kiss onto Xander's forehead and told him, "Go and be happy, Xander. Your plane will lift off in three days."

Xander had never loved the man more.


The next thing after carefully reading the file had been getting up and searching for the nearest computer. Xander hadn't been sure if the email address was still valid and even if it was, he had no guarantee if Cage still checked it regularly.

He had only sent a short message. He was going to set foot on Bora Bora on Wednesday morning, be there? If not, he had ...ways of getting in contact later on. Do not worry. X.

Then he had gone to the main library, had chosen some books, had done a bit of easy research and had decided on a spell he only needed salt and fresh ginger for. He had copied it down and had cleaned up after himself. It was a spell he had to do locally.

Xander had a smile on his face as he squared his shoulders. He already felt better.

Now only to tell the girls.
Next Chapter
StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking