Typo

Hide in Plain Sight

Ch. 1 – Typo

Summary: He was her assignment. She was his escape. Together, they were unstoppable.

Note: This takes place in Dark Angel timeline, mostly in season 2. The year is 2021 and the location is Post-Pulse Seattle.

Pairings: Asha/Alec

Disclaimer: I definitely don’t own any of these characters.

Thank you to MaraLiz & Rorylondra for your patient beta work...

--------

The red light blinked ‘on’ and the young woman sat cross-legged on a battered oversized green chair. Like everything since the Pulse, the fabric had seen better days, but there was no demon goo clinging to it and the material was less threadbare than some of the other chairs in the room. Resources were not exactly tight, but everyone agreed that they needed to blend in with the neighborhood and the leftover money would be better spent on defenses, weapons and the increasingly expensive ice cream that they always seemed to be craving.

Silently, she stared at the camera for a moment. She started to speak, but stopped three or four times, rejecting lines of thought or starting with a memorial for fallen sisters like some other Slayers had. This was a milestone in her life, and she knew that not only would her family see it, but so would generations of Slayers and Watchers yet to come. Slowly, she took a deep breath, focused her energy the way that she had been taught, and began to speak.

“My earliest memory is Power. I was three years old and, suddenly, I was filled with an incredible power that invaded every cell of my being and rejected any parts it found lacking. After that moment, when I looked around the overcrowded Russian orphanage I lived in, I knew that no one else there was like me. Though I was small for my age, no one ever picked on me, or anyone else more than once, after that.”

Not after I broke one kid’s knee, anyway, she smiled to herself. It’s not my fault that he was that much bigger than I was. He shouldn’t have been picking on that other kid like he did, she rationalized even as she continued to tell her story.

“It took three months for them to find me. I remember feeling her coming as she entered the large iron gate, but it was the man with the eye patch who walked over to me and crouched down until he was at my level. I didn’t know English yet and he barely spoke Russian, but there was not a doubt in my mind that he understood what I was and I knew I was safe with him.”

She supposed that most children would have been afraid of a man with an eye patch, but her dreams had already told her that he was someone she could trust. He would protect her from the monsters that attacked from every corner of her mind at night. And, though she didn’t know it at the time, when she was ready, he would hand her the weapon and show her how to her protect herself.

“A redheaded woman joined us. I don’t know exactly what she said, but somehow I knew I was going with them. When the man with the eye patch held his hand out to me, I wasted no time and just climbed into his arms, latching onto his neck with my tiny fingers interwoven together. I refused to let go, even as we boarded a train for what would be a very long journey. The redhead wanted me to let go, but I held fast, and eventually fell asleep with warm arms holding me close and a steady heartbeat under my ear. When I woke up, I was still cradled in those strong arms, but I had been shifted onto my side and had a soft blanket wrapped around me. A large smile greeted me and I learned my first English word – daughter.”

The slender blond woman paused for a moment and glanced out the window to see the often present rain falling down over Seattle. Although it was spring, the northern location combined with the chilly rain had left its mark on her and she wished her father would come and visit. She knew he would seal up the drafts in the old mansion they had taken over after it had been abandoned in the aftermath of the Pulse. Reaching for the cup of tea, she took a long sip out of her favorite mug – the one with the smiley face with fangs. It was chipped, but she could never part with because it was the last thing her Aunt Faith had given her before the dark haired Slayer died. When she heard the news of how the older woman died, she used her aunt’s nail polish, ‘Blood Red’ of course, to paint little drops of ‘blood’ dripping from the fangs. Blinking away the tears that suddenly sprung into her eyes, she shook her head and looked back into the camera.

“Over the years, I have lived on five different continents and in seventeen different countries, but I have been here in Seattle since they tapped me to take over this branch when Angine retires. So that brings me to now – I turned twenty-one today and I am sitting here keeping the video diary tradition started decades ago by my Uncle Andrew.”

She reached just out of the camera’s view and pulled an old, beaten up stuffed Ewok onto her lap. It was the first toy she had ever received and, to this day, was among her most prized possessions. Simply having the aged toy with her brought back memories of her formative years. Most kids played ‘Cowboys-and–Indians’, but that was too mundane for her tastes, so every time her uncle would babysit her, she knew she would be defending a rebel camp against the Death Star or battling to save her friends from the deadly Sarlaac, even though she knew that he liked playing the part of the good guys better. He definitely had regretted the day she figured out that she could get whatever she wanted from him if she called him ‘Uncle Anakin.’ He told her later that he had his own battles with good and evil and was glad that it hadn’t taken him twenty-odd years to realize that he would rather do good in the world than evil. With a bop on the nose of the Ewok and a smile on her face, she turned back to the camera.

“Everyone discounts his abilities, but my Uncle Andrew has some really good ideas. He even came up with the perfect cover for us. Apparently, some intern at a TV station got a hold of a story that involved the Slayer/Watcher Alliance, which we always abbreviated with an “S” slash “W.” One typo later and we were the “S1W.” Aunt Buffy was upset at being labeled a terrorist organization, but after the Pulse, it seemed that the only way we could get the job done was if we worked with the seedier elements. So, like we did when we went from ‘one girl in all the world’ to many, we adapted again. It’s brought our recruitment numbers up so that we have a Watcher for every two or three active Slayers now, with a good number leftover to teach the younger ones at the Slayer Academies. Between girls who are born Slayers and the kids of the current and retired Slayers and Watchers, we’re almost self-replenishing at this point. And, it all came about because my uncle thought it was a good idea to let the typo stand.”

What else do I need to cover? Oh, yeah, Andine is slowly handing everything over to me. She’s looking forward to having a baby now that she’s retiring from active duty at the ripe old age of thirty. I think she’ll miss this place, but once she has a munchkin, she won’t even be able to visit us. It’ll be too dangerous for her and the baby. By all rights, she should have been able to retire five years ago, but her replacement then wound up pregnant. Her second replacement went running back to Cleveland after two months and none of us talk about what happened to her third replacement, but it was bad enough that Andine agreed to stay on until a second generation Scooby was old enough and ready to take over. In name, I am already the ‘it’ girl, but it will be another month or two before I’ll be fully in charge in practice because we have a situation here in Seattle that has to be handled by someone of age. Andine says she is too old to play the part and none of the other girls are old enough, so that leaves me.”

She spread her arms wide for a moment, then pushed her Ewok aside and straightened herself in the chair. She quickly looked herself over and decided that, after a quick smoothing down of her hair and straightening of her left sleeve, she looked professional enough for her closing statement.

“My name is Asha and, effective today, I am the Senior Slayer of rank in Seattle. My first mission is to make contact with the Transgenics and determine what side of the bread is buttered. If they are potential allies, it’ll be my job to get them on board. If they are potential enemies, it’s my job to make sure they never get past the ‘potential’ stage.”

TBC

Next Chapter: Making Contact

P.S. Okay, so like it, hate it? Please let me know if there is any interest in me continuing. I like the idea of the pairing and would like to see where they'll go, but I don't really see too many of these fics, so I'm not sure of the reader appetite...