Uncle “Rab” Characters:
Xander/Spike (possible pairing) MY Inspiration:
Inspiration from a challenge by “Condatis” at the http://www . tth fan fic. org
(remove spaces) web site, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Movie), Buffy the Vampire Slayer T.V. Series (not all, but may refer to choice episodes), Angel the Series (maybe) Disclaimer:
This is my standard disclaimer; I don’t own anything in regards to the sources of MY Inspiration
. All publically recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
All the characters, worlds, base concepts or general ideas are just a bit food for the writing bug. This story is pure fiction and is in no way meant to copy or reflect real life, events or people, should this happen then obviously it is pure coincidence. Warning:
Possibly; Yaoi, Shounen-ai, etc… If you’re reading this and it’s not you’re thing then you’ve obviously searched for the wrong thing. Hit the back button and leave, no comments/reviews or flames needed regarding this story, unless you honestly like it and have valid criticism. Chat language not accepted and will be ignored. Author’s Note:
I first fell in love with “boys love” types of story by accident in 2004 (HP FanFiction “Inconceivable Thoughts” on FFnet, I think was the title). I have since felt that it is more fun to read and write slashy-type stories rather than boy-girl type because I read too much of that kind when I was in High-School (blame Daniel Steele or Harlequin Romances for the negativity against het stuff). Summary:
Answering Challenge 1758, “Unusual Parentage” for Xander.
I've seen stories where Xander is the long-lost son of (most often) Severus Snape, (sometimes) James Potter, and, a couple of times, Voldemort. Why don't we change it up a little?
Minerva McGonagall's son
Molly Weasley's only surviving nephew (son of one of the Prewett brothers)
Hermione Granger's cousin
Nymphadora Tonks' younger brother
Or make up one of your own, but make sure it's well off the beaten path.” Speech Legend:
(This is the standard by which I write my stories and therefore you will not see this repeated in future chapters)
(…Other Languages/Mind Speak/Alternate Speech Patterns like sign language…)
----- Uncle Rab
Jessica Harris never told her son about his “Old Uncle Rab”. He was her mother’s step-brother by marriage, but she had heard nothing from him or about him in a long, long time. Apparently he was no good and that was something that her husband poked her with sharp words among other things from time to time.
Apparently the man had been sent to jail, but there was more to it than that. However, Jessica never gave her husband any details in the matter. They only found out about it when a strange parcel arrived for their son when he was about seven years old. She never told Xander about it either.
However now her little boy, Alexander, was all grown up and living on his own. Let’s add to the fact that for some reason he refused to marry that lovely girl, she felt that he needed something else think about. Her son had just returned from the hospital again, this time it was after his horrific job accident. Jessica suddenly remembered the package received years ago addressed to her son and decided that it was as good a time as any to give it to him.
She called him to come over and pick it up. She felt that he needed something to occupy his mind and time, especially after his horrifying accident which left him without his left eye. She still didn’t understand how that happened, but he told her something about a runaway power-tool and tripping.
Several days later, Xander was sitting in his nearly empty apartment staring at a package that was sitting innocently on his coffee table. It had obviously arrived by mail a long time ago. The brown paper wrapping was dusty and dark. It had water stains and a bit a mould from the spot it had been sitting in. There was even a corner that had been chewed up by hopefully
some rodent type earth creature that he knew lived in his parents attic. He hoped that there was no such thing as demonic rats or demonic mice carrying demonic rabies or something.
It could have been worse, but it looked like the contents were undisturbed, which was a disturbing thought in itself.
However, this was just the distraction he needed to divert his attention from the problems with The First and the fact that he just lost his left eye to that demented priest. He didn’t want or need to see the pity in the eyes of his friends or the baby slayer wanna-bees. So when his mother called it was a perfect enough excuse to get away from the unwanted pitying looks and attention for a little while. He told them that he’d call in a few days to let them know what’s the what, regarding his mom calling him out of the blue like that.
“Might as well open it,” he mumbled. “It’s not going to open itself.”
He removed the worn string and the brown paper carefully. He had learned caution while helping Giles unpack the supplies for his magic shop before the man left for England. Whatever was in there was inside a one foot square box and on top of the box between the box and the wrapping, was a piece of thick parchment paper envelope and letter, undamaged by time.
He opened the letter and read it.
----- My dear lost nephew, I don’t know where to begin as I’m not certain when in your life you’ll be given this package. I do hope that you are of an age where you are independent of your mother and especially your father’s influence. However that is neither here nor there if you are reading this letter now. Let me explain a bit about how we are related. My father was an infamous womanizer and had slept around quite a bit before settling down, as most proper gentleman did back in his day. He married more than one woman in order to gain their dowries and a sense of power over them. I don’t suppose you’re familiar with that term dowries, but some people still follow that tradition in different parts of the world. Your grandmother was born to a woman that my father had married on a cruise trip, but he left her to fend for herself once the ship had finished its voyage. This trip was not without the consequence of putting her belly up during that cruise. I believe she tried to file for divorce, but it never worked. Still he did leave behind information about some things that he did while they were together. I found everything when the old bastard died a few years back. As I said he was a womanizer, but you should also know that he was also a very cruel man. He did some manipulative magic. By the way magic is real and it comes in many forms. Regardless of whether you believe me or not, he did some magic that bound the internal magical core of her and of the foetus growing in her belly. The child born would never have access to their magic. I suspect that they would be able to see strange occurrences, but they’d never be able to train in their magic in order to properly defend against what they saw. I met your mother several times when she was younger and before she married your father. I noticed the lingering magic that my father had bound in that family. Your mother would never be able to use her own magics as her core was bound really tight. I had a friend do a divination and a little seeinginto any possible offspring that she may ever produce in order to know about them and their potential magics. Strangely the seer couldn’t tell me much about you as a demonic Hellmouth kept interfering with the vision. They were able to see your existence and your magical core, but it seemed like it was bound nearly as tight as your mother’s. Years later I was actually able to physically see you only one time when you were about three years old. You were in sandbox in a playground somewhere in a town called Sunnydale. Your magical core was bright and I knew that you’d have had access to your magics in due time. However because of the strange magical energies in your town, I re-bound your core, but not as tightly as it probably should have been. If you’re still living that town, then I must tell you that your magical core will be affected by the Hellmouth energy that exists there. You will be able to see the things that live there, but you’ll been unable to do much because of the bindings. I fear that they may become an attractant to the demonic elements, if not removed in time.
In this box is my apologetic gift to you for the past. It contains a series of potions that will help you to access your magics and release any and all magical bindings that you may have been bound with. The seer did mention that you’d probably have some more on you by time you take these, if you choose to take them. They couldn’t explain the additional bindings as anything other than Wicca or Earth magic and a few others like chaotic emanations. Take them or don’t, the choice is yours. I will advise you that should you do so, then do it all in one go. I recommend that you have someone around you trust to watch your back or look after you, let them know what to expect or else you had better be prepared to feel like hell. The resulting symptoms will affect you just like the worst flu and cold you have ever had, with all its negatives; fever, delirium, the squirts, etc... There is a copy of the section of my father’s journal related to your mother’s mother and what he could detect about the strengths in her magics. You may find yourself strong in the same areas or in related fields. I doubt that you’ll ever need to contact me, but if ever you’re in London and have chosen to access your magics, go to Charring Cross Road and seek out the Leaky Cauldron. It’s an old world Pub that not many can see unless they have magic. It was located between a coffee shop and a small family dinner the last time I looked. It could have changed since this letter was written. Anyway go into that Pub and get directions to a place called Gringotts from the barman named Tom. Go there and speak to one of the goblins about an account that was set up for you, but that you don’t have a key for. It won’t matter when you go or if it’s one of your children in the future. They’ll take care of what is needed. There’s not much else to say other than do not seek me out for I’m not a good man either. I’ve killed and done many terrible things and I will not be changing my ways for anyone, especially not for the bastard offspring of my father’s loins. You may be wondering why I do this for you now. Well, you are living on a Hellmouth town and for some reason there was enough negative mystical energy that my own natural affinities were flipped and something forced me to do something good, to balance the wickedness of my past and future activities. Live with your choices well and good luck. Regards your Grand-Uncle,
Xander read and re-read that letter. There was nothing of deception in the words and he could very well believe the magic flipping switch issue, especially in relation to this town and the various powers that wish to interfere.
He opened the box and found the small home bound journal portion of his great-grand something grandfather, as mentioned in the letter, plus seven vials of potions like liquid. All seven vials of potion were not a nice friendly colour either. He could have sworn that some of the liquid in one of the vials moved on its own. There was another looking darker and thicker then he cared to think about at the moment.
He started to read the journal that had been included in the box, but he had to stop because he felt filthy just reading some of the things that the man had done while he was with his Grandmother. Binding her magics was only last thing he did. He took away her free will and forced her to do things that Xander was sure affected her relationships for the rest of her natural life.
He stood and went to the washroom in order to get the medicine for his eye, but then he stopped. He wondered if he should choose to take the potions, whether they would change somehow due to the medication he needed to dull the pain. He paused to look in the mirror and stared at the bandages. He removed them to look at the damage, but quickly turned away to shower and clean up a bit.
He was about to replace the bandages, but since there was no one there to stare at them, he decided to let the wound have a bit of air in order to aid in the healing. That’s part of what the doctors had advised anyway. He made sure that the antibiotic ointment covered the stitches and cuts before settling down to read.
Feeling somewhat better he returned to plough through that odious piece of journal belonging to his supposedly Great Magical Grandfather, before he even contemplated on the seven vials of strange liquid. He needed more information before he could make a choice and right now the journal was all he had.
----- Days Later
Spike was wandering around the town wondering just what the hell he was supposed to do now. He got back his own bloody conscious filled soul for the Slayer and she didn’t want him. So now what? Was he just supposed to sit back and take whatever affection she could give him?
He threw down his cigarette and crushed it under his heel. He looked up to see that he was in a part of the town were Harris was supposed to be living now. ‘Whelp has an apartment around here somewhere,
’ he thought. ‘Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him for nearly a week.
He looked around and tried to remember which one it would be. He knew that it wasn’t the same one that he used to live with his ex-demon girl. But he had to move into another after the girl had kicked him out of their previously co-owned pad. ‘At least the split up didn’t cost him much,
’ Spike thought. ‘The girl could have taken him for much more.
It didn’t take long to find out which three floor apartment complexes housed one Alexander Harris, construction worker/carpenter. It was an easy trick to get in the main door though, due to the dual locked entrance and the fact that Harris’s name was not yet next to the buzzer. He shrugged and held his finger on all of the buzzers until someone clicked the inner door open to let him up.
From there it was a simple matter of following the boy’s scent. Well he really was a man, but age wise he would always see the guy as the boy of the group. There was something about him that was forever youthful without the curse of being a vampire.
His Victorian souled self kind of liked him too. His vamp self never minded him, plus there was always the fun bonus that the boy had been a Sire’s gift to him, even if his sire had no right to give the boy away like he tried to do.
He was at the door and soon he was pounding on the door. He smelled sickness coming from the apartment and he was worried now. He didn’t want the Slayer to accuse him of not doing anything to help the man, so there he was the “Big Bad” pounding on the door belonging to the White Knight Scooby.
“Harris,” he yelled. “Open this door now or I’m calling Red and she’ll be the one blasting through it.” He put his ear to the door when he heard a muttering.
“Easy there Big Bad, I’m coming as quickly as I can,” Xander said in a wheezing, stuffed up, muffled voice. He was moved slowly, but there was nothing he could do about that. His muscles were cramped and he was in pain.
“William the Bloody also known as Spike, master status vampire, you
may freely come into my home,” he grinned weakly at the vampire’s shocked expression when formal permission granted Spike indefinite access to his home.
“Don’t tell them please,” the human said sliding down to the ground next to the door. He wandlessly called his favourite puke bucket to him and immediately threw up the watery contents of his stomach. He called a box of Kleenex to him in order to blow his nose, chucking the used tissue into the same bucket.
Spike wrinkled his nose at the smell, as he shut and locked the door behind him. “Well it seems that you’ve gotten yourself into a fine pickle,” he observed. “Anything I can do for you?”
Xander shook his head and immediately regretted it as he dry heaved a couple of times into the container that he was hugging. “No,” he said. “I just need to ride this out. I don’t know how long it will last, but it was Tuesday when I took the potions.” He turned his foggy brown eye to the blond and asked, “What’s today?”
“Thursday night,” Spike said and then asked, “Potions?”
“Yeah,” Xander said bitterly. He inched his way up from the floor with support from the wall at his back. “It’s something of a legacy from a distant uncle. They’re cleaning out my system of foreign magics and releasing all the magical bindings that I’ve had on me from God knows when or who.”
Spike watched as the man wobbled to the couch. “Don’t settle there,” he said. “Go to the bathroom and clean out that bucket of yours.”
He shook his head and wondered just what was going on. His human soul sighed and with old knowledge that he dredged up from his past he walked into the kitchen calling out, “While you’re there why don’t you take a bath and change those out of those fusty things.”
Xander sighed and knew that he was about to be mothered
for a bit by a vampire that used to lived during a time when colds were not so simply taken care of by over the counter meds. He shuffled to his on-suite bath room pulling out a black garbage bag from his utilities closet and collected the discarded wads of used tissue along the way.
‘It’s better to have one bag of the stuff instead of having that shit lying about and in the way,
’ he thought. ‘The worst should be about over any way, I think.
He shrugged his shoulders and immediately dropped the bag in the hall while he hunted for some clean comfy clothing. His body shivered hard and soon his teeth were chattering. “Oh fuck,” he said running for the toilette. This time it was something else. “I thought I was over with this shi...”
Spike was in the kitchen monitoring the man with his senses when he tried to switch his sense of smell completely off. “Bloody hell pet,” he muttered opening a window, completely shutting down his breathing as that stopped some of the odour from wafting in. He rifled through the cupboards, found and lit a few of the more mild scented candles to eat up the stink of human bodily waste. Then he found enough stuff make homemade chicken soup. “Hopefully this will help him out.”
He left the pot on the stove to simmer slowly and worked his way into the other room in order to find out just what the hell was going on. It was the least he could do after receiving that lovely formal invitation into the White Knight’s home. Such an invitation is never to be given lightly because it was semi-permanent, but on the plus side it singled him out. He knew that the boy would never give such an invite to the poofy haired goofball that claimed to be his Sire.
He found the seven vials and took a sniff of each to see if he could figure out what the contents were. However all he could deduce is the fact that they were aged. There was something about one of the smaller vials. He lifted it and saw that the small neat handwriting said, “Barrier dissolver
He wiped the rest of the vials down was able to make out, ‘Magic cleanser
’, ‘Core releaser
’, and ‘Knowledge sifter
.’ He wasn’t a fool. He knew that these three, plus four others could dissolve any magical bindings on a human. No sane person would ever take more than one of them at a time, but the boy did just that.
“Oi Harris,” Spike called out. He heard a small splashing sound like he had startled the boy, which he did because Xander had been drifting off into a semi-sleep after having stepped into the steamy warm tub filled with bubbles and some eucalyptus oil that helped to clear his sinuses.
The vampire walked up to the bathroom door knocking on it, he peered in and asked, “You took all seven potions didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” Xander croaked out softly through his scratchy throat. “It’s what the letter said to do.”
“The one that came with the package,” Xander explained. He rolled over in order to warm up his aching stomach muscles. “There’s a part of a journal in around there too. Feel free to look them over if you want,” he sighed. “It’s not like I’d hide that from you or the others although...”
“Ta so much,” Spike said, as he wandered away looking for more information, but leaving the door open so that he could monitor the man’s breathing.
“Don’t fall asleep in there,” he said. He would have looked at the letters or whatever he found anyway, but it was better to be invited to do so at the moment.
‘Just until’s I can find that balance between my souled self and me vampire self,
’ he thought. ‘In the past I’d have found them first and read what’s the what, about this to do.
’ He sighed and looked around for the letter and that bit of journal too. It didn’t take too long to find it, but after giving it a quick once over, he knew that he had to read it again.
“Bloody hell,” he said out loud after reading the letter.
‘Wand wavers from merry ole’ bloody England
,’ he thought when he saw the reference to Gringotts. He shook his head and knew that a part of his past had just come forward. ‘Never thought it would pop up like this, but it looks like the boy isn’t just a wand-waver from what I’ve seen
He stood up and checked on the soup that was simmering just nicely and he heard the human shuffling into the living room and collapsing with a groan onto the couch. He walked into the room and found Xander propping up some pillows behind his back. He watched in fascination as Xander called the blanket from where it lay to settle over him all cozy like.
“Seems like you have the trick of it,” Spike observed. “No wands for you, I suppose.”
“Limitations were removed,” Xander said. “I don’t know where that came from, but my mind is floaty with all kinds of information. It’s like I kept some of the stuff that I’d read in Giles’ library in my mind, but never once let it out or understood it until now, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I thought it would be that, especially if you took something that unblocked your potential for the proper sorting of your memories,” the vampire said, lighting up a cigarette.
Xander looked at him and then noticed that Spike didn’t seem too surprised by what was happening around him. “I guess you’re familiar with this kind of magic, then?”
Spike sighed and sat down near him. “I went to a school that specialized in those kinds of things, but I was classed a muggle-born.” Xander looked at him to continue his explanation. “Me mum and da weren’t magical beings. The wizard-born class them as muggles or non-magic folk. Me, I had magic in me that let me study at this magic school somewhere up in Scotland.” He shrugged his shoulders, while he exhaled smoke away from the wheezy human. “Went there for seven years and then had another three years of apprenticeship as a regular clerk in a muggle office because there were no positions for me in the Wizard World.”
“Does that world still exist?”
“There’s been some messes with Wizards going dark and whot not, but that’s the same for anyplace innit. They’re still around, jus’ hidden ‘cause they fear the muggles and the muggles’ fear of things that they canna’ control, like demons and such,” Spike told him.
He stood up to get Xander some of the soup that he had made for him and then settled down to continue answering any questions that the boy may have. “You jus’ take care to drink all of that. It should help you to heal up some.”
“Thanks,” Xander said. “Do you know where Gringotts is and is it true that there are goblins there?”
“Yeah, they’re real folk,” the vampire said truthfully. “They’re quite the species of magical creature. Your lot would just mistake’em for demons though, tha’s how different they look.”
“That’s kinda cool,” Xander said sipping the warm soup. He looked into the cup startled by the taste. “This is wonderful... Thank you.”
Spike just shrugged and looked away, slightly embarrassed to be doing something to aid the poor guy. “Letter said you needed someone to watch your back,” he said. “Why’d you not tell your girls?”
“Did you read the part in the letter that mentioned Wicca bindings?”
“You don’t mean to think...”
“I don’t know what to think about that,” Xander said. “I think that it might be possible, but I don’t want her to challenge my choice in this matter. Besides they’re too busy training the potentials and looking up a way to wake the others.”
“Why’d you not tell me then?” Spike asked. “I’d a helped.”
“Didn’t know where you were,” Xander said. “I’d have looked for you, but I didn’t know where to begin. I figured you’d be the first to seek me out anyway. That’s why the formal invite and the blood in frig.”
“In one of the drawers,” Xander told him, fading out of consciousness as the next round of dreaming / nightmare fun began.
Spike pulled the covers over the boy, picked up the journal and letter, taking them to the smallish kitchen. Sure enough in one the drawers of the refrigerator there was at least ten bags of blood. Further search and he found another ten in another drawer.
He shook his head, but helped himself to three of them. He heated up the blood and settled down for a more thorough read. His first sip startled him because the blood was human. He was surprised because he had lowered his sense of smell to the point where he acknowledged the fact that it was only blood, but not to the point where he knew what creature it came from.
,’ he thought gulping it all down eagerly. ‘Guess he really wanted my help.
----- Months Later
After the fall of the “First” and the cratering of the once suburban town known as “Sunnydale”, the survivors moved on. Many had left before the final conflict, fleeing like rats from a sinking ship.
There was a small group of others that were the fighters and they were the ones that saw the last of town sink with the “Welcome to Sunnydale” sign flipping in the wind. A couple of school buses were headed in the direction of Cleveland where the next “Hellmouth” became activated with the fall of this one.
It was a domino like chain reaction that happens with the closing of one Hellmouth and at the opening of another, which usually happens at a much slower pace than the cutesy game. But it was still a supernatural occurrence that the humans, among some other races still living on this planet, kept fighting and hoping to prevent, the openings of another before the first is closed.
This was not something that they were aware of in this dark game, but the gods, the dark ones and the ‘Powers That Be
’ knew the score. There were other
higher powers around that watched and played with humans like chess pieces. One is eliminated by the roll of a dice and another is re-animated by the turn of another wheel.
In the meantime, people moved on and moved away. That’s just what Xander did because he needed to get away from the girls for the time being. They had made their plans expecting him to follow their ideas, leads and plans, but they were shocked when he said, “I’m sorry ladies, but I can’t. I need to move out on my own for a bit.”
“But why,” Willow teared up at the thought that her best friend would no longer be around.
“Guys,” he said. “You’re making changes in your own lives and moving on too. Aren’t I allowed to do the same?”
After a bit of general grumbling and protestation that ‘Of course, he’s allowed to move on,’ they made arrangements for communication times. He did have to veto the obligation to be the one calling them every week because he didn’t know when he’d get to a phone and he wasn’t about to foot the bill for long distance chatter, not for anyone... not this time around.
Giles looked at Xander and motioned the young man to follow him out of doors for some much needed air. “I don’t know your plans, but you can always come to me if you need anything. I hope you know that?”
“Giles,” the one-eyed man began. “I know that, it’s just that I didn’t want to burden you with extra, like the girls were and are still doing. Why do you think I’ve been working at those crap jobs for as long as I have? It’s because I knew we needed the money for things and I don’t know if you were ever aware, but I have been filling your till at the Magic Shop until Anya began to help you out.”
“I knew there was extra money and I did remove it daily until she came in to work full-time, then I found it in my book bag after that,” Giles said. “I had my suspicions, but I never thanked you...”
“There is no need,” Xander said interrupting. “I did it to ease your burden as a friend and don’t think that one day I won’t hit you up for something.” He shrugged and then said, “I need to leave now because I need to let the dead rest in my mind.”
“You have a plan?”
“Yes,” Xander replied. “I plan to look in on an inheritance somewhere in the UK. I don’t know how that will affect me, but I think that I need to do this now.”
“Very well,” Giles said removing his glasses and polishing them for a bit. He put them back on and then pulled the young man into a brief, hard hug that conveyed more feeling than the younger one had ever expected. “You better keep in touch young man.”
Xander smiled, nodded and then gathered the duffle bag that he had left in the bus. The girls were looking into a cheap warehouse rental for the time being and he was planning to leave them to it. If they wanted anything fixed they would have to do it themselves.
Giles was looking at him, like he didn’t know where to begin to ask the other man to stay for a while, but he was pre-empted by a question about something that made him wonder just how Xander came across that information. He pretended that he missed the question and said, “What?”
Xander repeated his question, “Have you ever heard of some people or a sect of humans that could be considered Wizards or known as using some kind of magic that could be termed as ‘wand-waving
“Why would you ask such a question now,” Giles asked, curious to learn where Xander had learned of that term.
“That answers me right there, G-man,” Xander said, grinning his goofy smile that made the old watcher know and feel his age by the very fact that the boy he used know as a sophomore in high school, had laugh lines around his mouth and eyes.
“I guess it does,” Giles said, smiling ruefully. “Yes I have, but it was not common for the Watchers to associate with those in the ‘Wizarding World
’, as they like to call it. We did have official liaisons for a while, but I believe that they had problems with the Council being autonomous in their World. This was because of their need to seek out ‘potentials
’ and the Ministry of Magic and many of the Wizarding families didn’t appreciate the methods that the Council used to extract their childbearing daughters away from them.”
He paused for a moment and then got back on track answering Xander’s question. “They’re normal humans with that extra element in their bodies, which creates a magical core, but they never liked to mess with the Watchers Council even after they banned the Council from seeking potential Slayers. We have had several treaties or contracts with them in the past in order to deal with the magical creatures that seemed to cross-over from their barriers into our world, but we also helped them with the demons or other supernatural creatures that crossed over into theirs from time to time. May I ask how you’ve learned about the term?”
“I have… had… um… could possibly have a distant Uncle in that world from my mother’s side,” Xander said. “I was given a letter before that last battle and he said that my great-grandmother was a … well she was used by his grand-father or something just as bad. Well that old man sort of bound her core and any future offspring, but I don’t know much else about it. Spike told me about them too, when I asked. I was just going to look up a few things and see if I couldn’t find the place.”
Giles shook his head, not surprised that the bleach blond vampire would know about them. He now knew that part of the demon
magnetism that Xander had exhibited in his teen years could have been due to the binding on his own core, if he had one. He didn’t voice his suspicions, as he was certain that the girls wouldn’t be pleased with this fact.
It certainly would explain why the magics they frequently needed to use were so volatile around Xander; that was because they were not compatible around the boy, but at least they were able to tap him for help as the energies merging helped the witches focus.
‘I certainly hope that he can find something to unbind him,
’ he thought. ‘There is no question that he is because of the high level of complications that arose. Maybe this is why the First Slayer had awaked in their dreams... because of Xander’s naturally bound magics had been partially released.
“Giles,” Xander said, calling him back from his musings. “I’m gonna go now. If you ever head back to your mother country, let me know and I’ll look you up.”
“I will do that,” Giles said. “Don’t be afraid to keep in touch either. A call is nothing nowadays, not compared to writing letters, but feel free to that too.” They shook hands, which resulted in that manly pull into a hugging pat on the back.
There was something that was not natural pressing against the older man’s chest. He looked at Xander and then at the hidden outline of a necklace. “Xander?”
Xander pulled it out to give Giles a quick look. “Yeah,” he said, showing the gawdy looking necklace that Spike had worn when he sacrificed himself for them and the world. “I took it from the hole in the ground with magic. There were a few other directional spells on it, but I removed most of them before Spike had to wear it. I need it with me. Spike will be back, but if those particular spells had stayed on it, who knows where he’d have ended up.”
“I see,” Giles said, not really looking forward to Spike’s return. He’d only tell his Slayer when and if the vampire showed up. “I wish you luck.”
Xander had only one thing left to say before he left. He couldn’t help it when he said, “See you around G-man.”
Giles shook his head and watched as Xander picked up his duffle bag, ambling away into the night. He turned and saw the sad faces of his girls, but knew that it was time to make a few big and difficult decisions. They needed some form of order and a set of tasks assigned to them because there was going to be a lot of Slayers waking up all over the world.