Chapter 14: A Discussion of Slayers
Disclaimer: (What, the first 13 weren't enough for you?) I've had a bit of a change of heart on disclaimers. I don't think I've been disclaiming the right things. So, obviously I don't own Buffy or PotC, that's not even an issue. BUT! More importantly, if the rightful owners decide they want to steal my plot, original characters (of which there are precisely a handful of small ocean dwelling creatures and one fat ho), or anything else in this story EXCEPTING only the exact words used within (at least paraphrase, I mean my god how lazy can you be) they have my PERMISSION to do so and my disclaimer is therefore: I own this work. You don't. But, if you are the rightful owner of any character or storyline I'm mooching off of, then I waive my rights to sue you for the use of any plot, character, or idea sparked by my story.
Chapter 14: A Discussion of Slayers
Anamaria snagged a half full bottle of rum and stood before the other Slayer, taking a swig before sizing Buffy up.
"I know what I am. 'm not so sure 'bout you and your little sister."
Buffy tried to keep up her Intense-Slayer-Danger-Glare, but the angle was giving her a serious crick in her neck. She grimaced and rolled her head a bit. "Well, if you'll sit down or something, I'll tell you what's going on."
Anamaria slid down into the sand, stretching her legs in front of her. She nursed her bottle, waiting for Buffy to continue.
"I'm a Slayer. I am!" Buffy reinforced at Anamaria's scornful and disbelieving look. "Look, I know there's only one. I got the speech, alright? But if you're a slayer, then you have to know that there's a lot of weird things out there. I'm one of those things. I mean, portals. Crap. Portals and alternate dimensions are. Those weird things."
Buffy sighed. "So I guess you haven't met any vengeance demons, huh?"
Anamaria snorted. "I have. But that's got nothin' ta do with anythin'."
It was Buffy's turn to look disbelieving. "What are you talking about? Vengeance demon's are all about the alternate dimension traveling. Not to mention creating. Anya is always-"
"Oh. I guess you have met a vengeance demon."
"She granted a wish of mine."
"What? You let her?"
"Of course. Wouldn't have made the wish if I didn't want it done." She grinned slyly. "He deserved it."
"I guess protocol has changed a bit in the past couple hundred years."
"Couple hundred years?"
"Yeah. That's how I can be a Slayer too. I'm the Slayer from, like, two hundred and fifty years into the future. There was a big deal with a portal and my sister, Dawn, she came here. I came after her."
Anamaria took this in. "Assuming I believe you. What's this got ta do with 'alternate dimensions'?"
Buffy opened her mouth. Then shut it. "Well... nothing I guess. I mean, assuming this is just in the past, and not actually a different dimension. But if this isn't a different dimension, maybe I'm not supposed to be talking about it... man, I wish Giles was here."
"Your watcher. Where is he from?"
Buffy frowned at the seemingly pointless question. "England."
"And who does he work for?"
"The Watcher's Council... don't you already know that?"
The young black woman rolled her eyes. " 'Course I do. Just haven't decided yet if I believe ya."
"Oh." Buffy thought a minute. "Well, don't you have a watcher? I'm sure if you asked him he'd be able to, you know, do the research thing and back me up."
"M' watcher is dead."
There was a bit of an awkward silence.
"So what is your sister?"
"Nothing. She's just my sister."
Anamaria eyed the other Slayer. "You're lying."
The look the blond woman gave her was hard and unyielding. "It's not up for discussion."
Anamaria held her eyes for a moment, then shrugged. "Doesn't matter, I s'pose. Explains why she knew about Slayers, anyways." She drank the last bit of rum in the bottle, and tossed it aside. "Alright, I believe ya. And you're here ta take her home?"
"Even if she don't want ta go?"
"Guess we need ta get you back ta yer friend... if he's still alive." She paused and added, "I hope he is. He was strapping."
"Xander?" Buffy's discomfort was obvious. "Strapping? Is that good?"
"So not going there. Do you have any ideas on how to get off this island?"
"No. There's no boats. There's no way ta build one. There's not enough here ta build a raft for all of us."
They sat is serious contemplation, while the fire crackled and Captain Sparrow's snores drifted down the beach. The shape of Elizabeth Swann shifted, then eased up and walked toward the other women. They watched her approach, Anamaria noting a distinct lack of staggering or swaying, or any other apparent effects of intoxication or the raging hangover she ought to rightfully be experiencing.
Elizabeth crouched in the sand next to them. "So, this is my plan..."