Post by sosa lola on Apr 23, 2009 8:43:29 GMT -5
Fic: A Girl with a Purpose
Character: Xander, Renee
Type: Gen
Summary: In an attempt to escape depression, Xander signed up to travel all over the world and look for slayers.
Setting: A few weeks post-Chosen and a year and a half before S8.
Spoilers: All seasons of Buffy, including S8 comics.
Thanks to obiwahn for the lovely beta.
Ten minutes marked the distance between Xander and the motel he sought. Ten minutes disturbed by traffic and annoying loud honks. Xander looked back at the trademark sign of the grocery store he had been standing in front of before he had taken the cab. It was now only three buildings away. He suddenly understood the mystery behind the smile on the driver's face as he pointed to the taximeter with its ridiculously jumping numbers.
"There ain't no problem with it. It's the traffic." He glanced at Xander. "Could've just walked there, man."
Xander reluctantly handed him his money without arguing-. Though he was tempted to say, "You could've told me that I didn’t need a cab in the first place," – the driver's smirk was contagious. He did earn the money after all; not for the driving, but for his cleverness and Xander's stupidity.
He walked the short distance, his bag held with his left hand while his right fisted the paper with the motel's name on it. Giles had arranged everything for him: his flight ticket and his stay at the motel. All Xander had to do was get there -and he had no problem with that. It was good to get away from the chaos back home, was it time to call London home? It had only been a few weeks since Sunnydale's destruction, and considering the fact that Giles and Buffy were already talking about setting up organizations for slayers all over the world, it seemed that their stay in London would only be temporary.
It was all business in London. No one had taken a breather from the hectic events of Sunnydale. No one had talked about their victory. No one had mentioned the losses. No one was grieving the losses. No one was talking about her. Xander swallowed a forming lump inside. He needed to get away, needed to think alone while doing something useful, hence this mission.
The building that was to serve as his hotel suddenly came into view. Xander unfolded the crumbled piece of paper in his right hand and read the address. He stared up at the building and then read the address again. This was a motel? His parents' house looked classier than this. Judging by the poor area, this was probably the Holiday Inn for these people. He reluctantly squared his shoulders before sauntering into the small building he was going to live in for the next two weeks.
He tripped on a broken rung on the way in and an old man sitting on a rusty chair by the entrance dashed toward him. He was of African descent and looked to be the janitor.
"Sorry about that," he blurted out. "Those jack asses were supposed to fix it today." He helped Xander up and dusted his clothes for him.
Xander frowned at the state of his own clothes; they were soaked with dust. He had more dust on him than the time a vampire had fallen on his stake, exploding into dust all over Xander.
The man noted his uneasiness with the dirt and explained, "My wife insisted she ain't got to clean no shit 'til the stairs get fixed. Here, let me get this for you." He took hold of Xander's bag and hurried up the stairs. He didn't even check if Xander had a reservation at the motel or not.
Well, who could blame him? With a miserable looking building like this one, he would welcome any foot that stepped inside.
Xander looked around before following him. "No elevator?"
The man appeared embarrassed. "Damn thing is broken, too."
Xander sighed and followed him as he climbed the corroded stairs that were so old some broke a little under his feet while others shook slightly. Only a few were in good shape. The bad ones almost made the dying construction worker inside him come to life again. After climbing four floors –almost thirty stairs- they finally reached his room.
It was mostly a bedroom with a small kitchen area and a door that led to his bathroom. If he was bothered by the dirt on the stairs, his room looked like no one peeked at it for centuries. He was so weary he didn’t have the energy to turn this room into a place for human beings. The idea of cleaning the room sounded insane, especially since he didn't have the tools for it. So he just flung himself on the bed, not bothering to change his clothes or take off his eye patch. He almost dozed off when he heard the man clearing his throat, "The maid will be here tomorrow."
If one of his muscles were able to work at that second, Xander would have jumped off the bed and suffocated the man with a hug. But he could only muster a grateful nod.
The man left and Xander hadn't even introduced himself. But that didn't matter at the moment because sleep was overtaking his body.
Sounds of reed pipes and shouts of strolling salesmen crept into his dull ears. Xander grumbled and tossed from left to right, trying to get back to sleep. His low grumbles became louder, and then he started to curse. Then he heard a feminine laugh -- one that was right in front of him. He startled, sitting up, and tried to look through the fog in his eye.
"Who the hell are you?" he blurted out, rubbing his eye.
His question sounded rude enough to make her face grimace. "I mean… who are you? How did you come in?" he repeated with a gentler tone.
"I'm Renee."
"Renee… Renee…" he repeated her name like an idiot, trying to make sense of why she was here. All he remembered from last night was the abraded stairs, his passport, his wallet, sleeping without dinner… but no Renee.
"I'm the maid, sir," she answered his confusion.
The maid. Right… the maid? He stared at her thoroughly. She was also of African descent-- with a good-natured, cute face. Her hair was cut very short and was hiding underneath a red bandana.
She must be the slayer he came for.
The neighborhood, though very poor, was almost as crowded as London. Loads of people were stacking the streets either by walking, driving or riding motorcycles. Who would want to venture into this crowd, bearing the smell of breaths and the smacks of sweaty shoulders? Guys his age, older and younger, walking around with their girlfriends, their hands locked, racing with those who walked single locking their newspaper into their chests.
It seemed that no one walked alone here. Or… no one lived without a love story under their sleeve. That was what he told Renee when she returned to clean his room every morning for the past three days, shocked by how messy it became whenever she arrived for room service. Xander knew he should leave the room when it was getting its clean over, but he never did. He always preferred sitting on the bed and watching Renee work.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked.
She answered with a small laugh. Then, after a few seconds, she smiled at him. "Lunch is served, sir." After that she turned around to leave the room.
His smile at the mention of food dropped the second she said "sir." He was never called that. Not even by those who ranked lower than him at work. He was always just Xander. And he liked being just Xander.
"Renee!" he shouted, startling her as she was about to exit. "Don’t you know my name?"
She looked back at him. "I do."
"Call me by my name."
"No way," she recoiled. When she noticed his determination, she stuttered, "X…Xander." Then she ran out, her footsteps could be heard on the rusty stairs.
She spoke like someone who shouldn't be a maid, talked about things Xander didn't know like Shakespearian literature and the Gulf War. If Xander could remember a thing he learned in high school, it would be the French Revolution… but how it started, he forgot. It wasn't like he needed that much info at the construction site. Besides, he usually relied on Anya when it came to historic events –after she would promise not to include her role in it.
He closed his eye wearily at the mental mention of Anya. Sometimes he wished he could go to the big hole that used to be his hometown and look for her body. But then he would remember the press and the US government hovering over there, trying to find a clue to lead them to the terrorists who turned the town into a crater.
Renee came back, holding a giant tray that contained different types of food. They were probably made by her mother or the janitor's wife. They looked more delicious than what he had seen outside while walking down the streets of this deprived neighborhood. The food made his stomach growl loudly which sent Renee into a gale of giggles.
She placed the tray in front of him and turned around to leave. "Won't you join me?" he asked.
She shook her head with an amused laugh. "No way."
This girl was much more than a maid, Xander knew, not just because she was a slayer –which he hadn't told her yet- but because of her sure movements, different accent and knowledgeable facts.
"Are you still in school, Renee?" He couldn't place her age. She looked older than a high school student and he doubted that she attended college.
"I finished high school two years ago." There was a bitter expression on her face.
"I assume the high school you attended isn’t around this area," he said it as a fact and not a question.
"You assumed wrong," she grumbled a reply-- her attitude altered all of a sudden. He regretted his arrogant assumption, which reminded him of what Anya used to say about him, he couldn't see beyond his nose.
Before she stepped outside his room, he called after her, "Thank your mom for the lovely lunch."
She looked at him over her shoulder, a hint of tears in her visible eye. "I ain't got no motha," she said sarcastically.
Xander shrank in his bed and looked at nothing but his nose.
He woke up at night from a long nap that was expected after the rich lunch he'd eaten this afternoon. The lunch reminded him of Renee, and he wanted to smack himself. He was an insensitive jerk. Giles had instructed him to find the slayer, to tell her about her calling and then give her the choice: join the new council or don't. It was up to her. But Xander didn't like that approach; he wanted to get to know the slayers first before breaking the news to them. He'd hate to be like one of those council men, who would drop the news on the slayers like a nuclear bomb.
He desperately wanted Renee to accept the offer, to be one of the soldiers. She had a lot of potential that was being wasted on cleaning strangers' bedrooms.
With a sigh, Xander grabbed his cell phone and speed-dialed Willow's number. He hadn't phoned his friends at all. It was Willow who had called to check if he had arrived safely.
"Hey there, Columbus, how's America?" her cheerful voice was heaven to his ear.
"Old and dusty," he replied with a laugh. "How's my favorite redhead?"
"Is that Xander?" He heard Dawn's voice from the other end asking Willow with lovable eagerness.
"Helping someone's lazy behind to study," Willow answered his question with good nature.
"Tell him Dawn says hi."
"Did you hear that?" Willow asked with a hint of laughter in her voice.
"Heard it. Tell her Xander hi-s back."
"Xander says hi."
Dawn squealed.
Xander smiled affectionately. He missed them all right. But he wasn't sure he wanted to be around them these days. Not until his gloomy mood lightened up.
"So, did you find your first slayer?" Willow asked.
"Yeah, but haven't told her yet. Still testing the waters."
"Don't take your time. You've got lots on your list."
"I know. I just… I really want this one on board."
"Do I smell attraction?"
"Willow," Xander chided. "It's been only a month since Anya's… since she passed away."
"I'm sorry, Xander. I was out of line."
"It's okay." He must change the subject before Willow popped the question that would open the can of worms, not needing another lecture on the healthiness of opening up and letting it out. "So how are Buffy and Giles?"
"Busy, busy, busy. And I think we're moving to Scotland."
Xander frowned. "Seriously?"
"Not all of us. But you know about the slayer bases all over the world. Buffy's will be in Scotland. You know, nothing as isolating as a castle in the middle of freaking nowhere. It's the perfect place for slayers to feel safe. You've seen the news, haven’t you?"
"Yeah, I have." His country's government was dead serious on catching the 'terrorist' Buffy Summers and the likes of her. They knew there was something weird about these girls-- in the sense that they were stronger than an average human-- which made them demons in their own right. 'The terrorists' shouldn't be let astray and that meant new problems for the Scoobies.
"I'm not sure a castle is the best way to hide from governments."
"Well, we chose a castle because of the space issue. Many rooms for all the girls under our charge, and we'll still have more to make training rooms. As for protection, I'll see to that." Xander could see the grin of a proud, powerful witch as easily as he could spot that small mosquito circling the lamp in the ceiling.
"And Giles?" he asked, rubbing his itching eye. It felt like an eyelash fell in it.
"His base is gonna remain in England. Wood and Faith are gonna take Cleveland and Vi will be in charge of the New York base."
"Vi? Our Vi?" When he had first met her, she was just a cute bubbly girl with a unique taste in hats. He kind of felt a brotherly pride thinking of the strong woman she'd become.
"Yeah. Time for the older slayers to share their experience."
Bases, soldiers, quarters, it sounded too military for him.
No surprise there. He wasn't naïve enough to think that they would actually get to live a normal life after defeating The First. He knew that if he stuck by Buffy's side, he could forget about a normal life. He’d known that since he was sixteen. And life kept getting more abnormal, especially after they had changed the world. Giving up normal life was the price they had to pay for changing the lives of so many girls.
This time, Xander would face the consequences.
"How's Buffy doing?" he asked with concern. He didn't suppose his friend thought that things would get this messy after doing that big spell. Her plan was to defeat The First, but she didn't think far ahead. She didn't think about the changes she would evoke, and the new responsibilities she'd laid on her shoulders, Xander could sympathize with that.
"Like I said, busy. We barely see her these days."
Dawn grumbled something offensive, but Xander couldn't make it out.
"C'mon, Dawn," Willow gasped. "You know Buffy is doing the best she can."
Xander didn't need to guess what Dawn had grumbled about. It was obvious Buffy was trying to distract herself with work just like Xander was doing right now. Both of them had lost important people in their lives and both of them wanted to wallow alone without the pray of pitying eyes. It made the two of them unaware of how much Dawn was suffering due to their neglect. Thank God for Willow. She was the only one around to help Dawn catch up with school, the only one around to look after her. If Willow wasn't around, Xander wouldn't want to guess about what would happen to Dawn.
After he finished his phone call with Willow, Xander decided to walk the streets and fetch for dinner. He jumped down the stairs, not caring if he would break one on the way. He found the 'janitor' who was actually the owner of the building sitting in his usual spot and smoking. He looked like Spike, except Spike was - white and younger and Mr. Desmond Johnson was black and older. Actually, they were different in everything. But at that second, Mr. Johnson looked confident and badass, unlike the hesitant man Xander had met the first night he came to this dump.
An old, rusty car passed by and Mr. Johnson shook his head with a scoff. "We ain't rolling tight whips in this neighborhood."
Xander shrugged before being startled by Mr. Johnson's children who popped out of nowhere and raced inside the collapsing building. Mr. Johnson let out a soft laugh, looking at them fondly.
Xander shifted slightly, his hands going inside his pockets. "What do you know about Renee, sir?" he asked, feeling his cheeks blush.
"Sweet girl, but no brains," he answered plainly.
The simplicity of his answer stunned Xander, who couldn't find a reply to convince this man that he was wrong.
"She's my niece," Mr. Johnson went on. "We raised her back when we got no children. Then luck changed and here they are." He grinned happily at the squealing three children. He didn't mention how Renee lost her parents and Xander didn't ask. He didn't want a repeat to this afternoon's tragedy.
The next morning, Renee came back wearing a smiling face, as if yesterday's episode never happened. Xander was grateful to the point where he was actually helping her clean his room. She didn't mind, but she kept sending him amused glances.
"You love reading books, don't you, Renee?" he guessed as he folded his last night's pants. They didn't need to be washed. Thankfully the dinner he had last night didn't make him sick afterwards.
"Yeah, I do. It's a nightly ritual." She ruffled his pillow while making the bed. "Why do you ask?"
"Curious. You seem like a reading type of girl."
"I am," she replied with a grin. "I also enjoy technology. I scored high in my Computer Science exam back in high school. Thought I'd be great as a computer programmer or a computer engineer." She took her broom and started sweeping the floor. "Do you read?"
"Not that much. Unless it has panels…and superheroes."
She turned to look at him, her mouth wide open. "You read comic books?"
"Yeah. Why?" He looked at her, knowing the answer before she said it.
"Well, that eye patch doesn't say geek to me."
Bingo. Xander threw the folded pants into the closet, ruining the neat folding. He placed his hands on his hips and painted Willow's 'I can't believe you said that' expression on his face. "Are you judging me off my looks, Renee?"
She stuttered, but nothing came out of her lips, before she scowled.
Xander laughed, swearing that her uncle was the brainless one. This girl was sweet and intelligent, if a little misunderstood. Suddenly, he remembered Anya.
The atmosphere outside was calling him out to life. He inhaled the fresh air and felt the breeze play with his features and hair. For once, he could stare outside his window without the invading mosquitoes. He stepped out of his room and ran down the stairs, feeling like walking outside and accompanying the hectic crowd. He differed from them on the fact that he had nothing to hold, no girlfriend or newspaper. Well, it wasn't the first time he would feel out placed among a certain crowd.
He passed a few couples, overhearing their sweet talk. Some couples whispered to each other, others laughed, and others kissed.
Suddenly, he saw a familiar short boy-haircut. "Renee!" he cried out.
The glass of ice cubes she was holding fell off her hand and crashed into little pieces. She looked at him with horror. "Xander?!" Just like that, without any "sirs".
The boy she was kissing started to run away and so did Xander.
He ran like a lunatic without clear direction, fuming like a volcano inside. She was running after him, calling his name, asking him to stop. He didn't.
He locked the door to his small room and started to pace from left to right, knowing he had to stop just to catch his breath, but he couldn't. Who was that guy? Why was she kissing him? Then he reminded himself that she was not his girlfriend, or his friend or his sister. She was a strange girl he shouldn't have gotten attached to. She was someone with a calling and all he was supposed to do was inform her of her status and give her the choice: "Are you interested or not?" Her personal life was none of his business. He remembered her small laugh at his question the other day about having a boyfriend and it hit him that he was in a neighborhood of lovers.
Was he jealous? Did he want her as a girlfriend? Was he disappointed? Or was he just worried about the fact that she had someone in her life; therefore, she wouldn't give a crap about joining their squad?
He remembered how she had run after him, calling out his name, and then how she'd stopped when her uncle came out of his apartment. Xander glanced outside his window. She wasn't there.
Renee didn't come to his room for two days now, not after that incident. Worry lived inside him as he searched for her everywhere. In the kitchen, in front of the fountain, and he had stood in front of her uncle's apartment where she lived but she never came out. He leaned against the stairs, watching as Mr. Johnson's children ran past him, and not daring to ask them about Renee's whereabouts. Even Mr. Johnson wasn't sitting by the entrance with his cigarette.
Where did she disappear? No one answered him. He was glad that Giles never called to ask about how things had gone with him. Why did it take him this long to talk to one slayer when there were many more on his list? Xander supposed Giles had other things to worry about, like setting Buffy's base in Scotland.
More days had passed, and Xander’s stay at the motel was long over, but no one had kicked him out. He supposed since they didn't ask him about his reservation the first night he had arrived, they probably didn't know when his stay was due. All they cared about was that he was paying. Still, a week had passed and Renee was a no show. His little room missed her tidying and perfume.
Xander went to the small street located on the left side of the neighborhood, even though he had searched there before. He stood in front of the small grocery store he had stopped by a week ago… the same place where he had come across Renee. He had been counting his groceries and the money he had, which was a dollar short. The saleswoman brassily refused his offer to bring her that dollar some other time.
When he reached into his plastic bag to return one of the soda cans, Renee popped out of nowhere. "Sir!" she exclaimed, stuffing her hand into her pocket and handing the dollar to the saleswoman. Then she left with a grin.
Xander smiled sadly when he remembered her grin and looked over the chocolate bars on the shelf with disinterest. Then suddenly a familiar hand came to his vision.
Renee's hand.
"Renee!" he cried out. The two other customers in the small grocery store looked his way with curiosity, but he ignored them, looking her over. She wasn't wearing a bandana for once, allowing him a clear sight of her boy haircut. She appeared fine except for the haunted look on her face. "Where have you been this whole week?"
There was a tear in her right eye and her lips fluttered with fear. "I… I… it was me."
"What?"
"AJ. I was the one who…" tears started rushing down her cheeks like rivers. Xander blinked before it hit him. A week ago, the guy he had caught kissing Renee was found with broken bones in a nearby alley. He was in a coma, still was, therefore the police couldn't identify his attacker. Xander didn't care about it much. He was mostly worried for Renee's wellbeing.
He gently touched her shoulder. "Come to my room. Let's talk there."
"No," she whimpered. "I don’t' know what Uncle Des would do if he saw me."
"He wouldn't lay a hand on you," Xander spoke with roughness, his protective tone that was generally used when someone threatened to hurt one of his girls coming to life.
She shook her head. "I can't."
"Then let's go somewhere else. I have something to tell you." Her frightened eyes were locked in his lonely one and he wanted to kill himself. All this mess was his fault.
They found the perfect spot for their conversation in one of the neighborhood saleswomen' house. She owed Renee a favor and using her house as a hiding place was her way of returning gratitude.
"Things got so heated up." Renee paced around the room, hugging herself. Her face showed shock and fright. Xander, sitting on a chair next to the wooden table, just listened to her quietly. "He was a little forceful. I… I didn't want it to go this far, our thing is still new. But then he was grabbing my hands to make me helpless and went straight to second base. I had to stop him."
She finally stopped and for the first time since she started telling him what had happened she looked him in the eye. "I stopped him. The result was broken ribs and a coma." She looked down at her feet, appearing so small and vulnerable. "I was scared and I ran away. I couldn't tell my uncle this. I bet he's looking for me everywhere."
"Why are you telling me this?" Xander asked, mustering a Giles tone but without the accent.
She looked back at him with fearful hope. "You showed interest in me. You wanted to know more about me, even though I was just the girl who cleans your room. I know it's not lust. I know that you know something about me." Her stare was a mixture of desperation and accusation. "Why am I so strong all of a sudden?"
Xander looked at her for a few seconds before revealing a regretful sigh. "I should have broken the news the second I saw you."
"What news?" She was on the edge of panic, just waiting for the blow. Xander didn't want that to happen.
"Why don't you sit here?" He pointed at the chair opposite from his. "Take a few breaths and maybe a sip from this." He raised the glass of water that was poured for him but didn't drink it.
She did as he told and to his relief she appeared calmer. Xander shifted in his seat before he took a more comfortable position and rested his elbow on the table. "I'll start from the beginning. For centuries, one girl gets selected to be a fighter among a big number of potential girls. This girl had to protect the world from things that used to be nothing other than horror children stories; but then, we all know there's no smoke without a fire, right?"
Renee didn't reply, she looked too stunned by what he was saying. He figured that perhaps she didn't know what to be more freaked about: monsters being real or girls being superheroes.
"Anyway, for so long it had been only one girl. The other potentials waited for her to be killed, and then one of them would carry the burden. Then, about a month ago, there was this demon called The First Evil, and it wanted to stop all the potentials from becoming heroes. It started killing them one after the other, until the chosen one decided to turn all the potentials into heroes and together they were able to defeat The First. Problem is, now we've got so many girls out there not knowing about their true identity, so we decided to travel all over the world just to give them the memo -- and a choice." He paused here, mainly to take a breath, but also to see her reaction to all of this.
Her reaction was blinking and a blank expression. "Are you sure this is not just some story out of one of those comic books you read?" she asked incredulously.
"It's not a comic book, Renee. It's all real. You can either accept the reality of it or just stay in the world of denial. It's all up to you." He painted a firm look on his face to show how serious the situation was, and put hold on any attempts of jokes. Dawn was right. He was turning into Giles -which was better than turning into his father- that was for sure.
"So… I'm a superhero," Renee said slowly. He nodded. "I kill monsters." He nodded again. "And there are other superheroes just like me out there." Another nod to another statement. "This sounds too ridiculous," she laughed, shaking her head and getting off her chair.
"It really isn't," Xander said calmly.
"Oh, really?" She turned around and faced him, looking serious for once. "How am I supposed to believe that some cheap fanboy fantasy is my reality?"
"How about we visit AJ in the hospital, will you believe it then?" his tone was calm, but his sentence was meant to be harsh.
She quivered when she remembered what she had done and regressed back into being a scared little girl, gazing down at her feet. Xander stood up and walked toward her, fearlessly pulling her into a hug. "It's not your fault, Renee. It's mine. I should've told you about all of this the minute I saw you."
"Why didn't you?" she whispered into his shoulder.
"Because I wanted you out of this miserable place. You're too special to be just a maid."
"Because I'm this… hero," she said bluntly.
"No, because you're smart and intelligent. You have so much potential, which is why you used to be one."
She pulled out of his embrace and looked up at him. "So… what's my role in all of this?"
"You either go to the new council, where you'll get the training you need and help your equals defeat the big bads, or you could just remain here."
She frowned, looking at him skeptically. "So this is my choice?"
"Yes."
Renee pondered… which made Xander nervous. He wasn't really sure why he wanted her to accept her true identity and go to England, but the desperation was killing him. He hated losing control and begging, which he really wanted to do at the moment. Thankfully, he stayed put and watched as she rubbed her head in exhaustion. "I think I wanna sleep on it, before I give an answer."
This was a little disappointing, but at least she didn't say no.
"Okay. Remember, there's no pressure. You choose what you want and all is well." He walked to the door, deciding that too much time with her would defiantly lead him to begging and he didn't want to lose the image he created for himself- responsible and assured and a little mysterious.
"Would you be disappointed if I chose to stay here?" she sounded very curious, almost like his answer was very important to her.
Her question made him stop walking and something in his heart fluttered a little. "My feelings on this should not influence your decision. It's up to you," he answered, resisting the desire to look over his shoulder, then continued to the door.
"Wait…"
He stopped again.
"Comic book superheroes have names, like Batman and Superwoman or whatever. What is mine?"
A smile tucked on his lips. "A slayer." He looked at her over his shoulder with what he hoped was a charming smile.
She arched an impressed eyebrow. "That sounds kinda cool."
Xander's smile deepened. "It is."
Xander breathed into his pillow, happy that he had closed the curtains before sleeping when he noticed the flicker of light escaping into his room. He didn't feel like waking up too early and sleeping was his favorite companion ever since they had left Sunnydale. He turned to the other side and wiggled a little to get into a more comfortable position. His eye opened slightly and through the fog he could see the shape of a person gazing down at him.
He jerked up, startled, and his hand shot to his eye, rubbing the fog out of it. He looked straight into the beautiful smile of Renee.
"Hey, sir," she chirped, raising a broom and tucking on her bandana.
"Renee!" he exclaimed. His eye examined her, noting with disappointment the maid's uniform and the cleaning equipments. "So, um, you made your choice."
"Yep."
"I see," his tone dropped and it was really hard to appear nonchalant about it. A part of him actually wanted to lie down and resume sleeping, in case she said no…then it would all be just a bad dream.
"How about you head straight to the bathroom? I do a much better job when you're not helping." She went to the curtains and pulled them open, revealing the blinding rays of sun. Xander grimaced, looking away to shield his lonely eye. "Besides, I want my last day of cleaning bedrooms to be special."
Xander blinked. "Last…" he stopped when his eye landed on her. Her dark skin glowed surrounded by the sunlight and her smile was brighter than the golden rays.
"I just talked to Uncle Des. He gave me his blessing."
"So, you… you're on board?" He got on his knees on the bed with excitement; not caring that he probably looked like an excited eight- year- old kid who was going to get a toy firetruck for Christmas.
"Yeah." She nodded. "I choose to be a slayer."
"Renee, that's… that's just…"
"Go brush your teeth now and then you can tell me about how grateful you are." She pushed him off the bed and laughed as he clumsily fell on his back. He rubbed his bottom with his hand and pouted at the loss of his respectful image. She started making the bed when he stumbled into the bathroom.
He stared at the reflection of his stubbly face on the mirror and a goofy smile blossomed. She was on board. Hurray! He would call Giles and arrange for Renee to fly to England where someone would be waiting for her. He would make sure to tell Giles to focus on teaching her some computer programming stuff. She would love that. Meanwhile, Xander must return to his job. He had wasted so much time here, even though it was worth it.
Okay, next stop would be Transylvania. He hoped his stay there would be shorter.
The End.
Character: Xander, Renee
Type: Gen
Summary: In an attempt to escape depression, Xander signed up to travel all over the world and look for slayers.
Setting: A few weeks post-Chosen and a year and a half before S8.
Spoilers: All seasons of Buffy, including S8 comics.
Thanks to obiwahn for the lovely beta.
~*~*~*~
Ten minutes marked the distance between Xander and the motel he sought. Ten minutes disturbed by traffic and annoying loud honks. Xander looked back at the trademark sign of the grocery store he had been standing in front of before he had taken the cab. It was now only three buildings away. He suddenly understood the mystery behind the smile on the driver's face as he pointed to the taximeter with its ridiculously jumping numbers.
"There ain't no problem with it. It's the traffic." He glanced at Xander. "Could've just walked there, man."
Xander reluctantly handed him his money without arguing-. Though he was tempted to say, "You could've told me that I didn’t need a cab in the first place," – the driver's smirk was contagious. He did earn the money after all; not for the driving, but for his cleverness and Xander's stupidity.
He walked the short distance, his bag held with his left hand while his right fisted the paper with the motel's name on it. Giles had arranged everything for him: his flight ticket and his stay at the motel. All Xander had to do was get there -and he had no problem with that. It was good to get away from the chaos back home, was it time to call London home? It had only been a few weeks since Sunnydale's destruction, and considering the fact that Giles and Buffy were already talking about setting up organizations for slayers all over the world, it seemed that their stay in London would only be temporary.
It was all business in London. No one had taken a breather from the hectic events of Sunnydale. No one had talked about their victory. No one had mentioned the losses. No one was grieving the losses. No one was talking about her. Xander swallowed a forming lump inside. He needed to get away, needed to think alone while doing something useful, hence this mission.
The building that was to serve as his hotel suddenly came into view. Xander unfolded the crumbled piece of paper in his right hand and read the address. He stared up at the building and then read the address again. This was a motel? His parents' house looked classier than this. Judging by the poor area, this was probably the Holiday Inn for these people. He reluctantly squared his shoulders before sauntering into the small building he was going to live in for the next two weeks.
He tripped on a broken rung on the way in and an old man sitting on a rusty chair by the entrance dashed toward him. He was of African descent and looked to be the janitor.
"Sorry about that," he blurted out. "Those jack asses were supposed to fix it today." He helped Xander up and dusted his clothes for him.
Xander frowned at the state of his own clothes; they were soaked with dust. He had more dust on him than the time a vampire had fallen on his stake, exploding into dust all over Xander.
The man noted his uneasiness with the dirt and explained, "My wife insisted she ain't got to clean no shit 'til the stairs get fixed. Here, let me get this for you." He took hold of Xander's bag and hurried up the stairs. He didn't even check if Xander had a reservation at the motel or not.
Well, who could blame him? With a miserable looking building like this one, he would welcome any foot that stepped inside.
Xander looked around before following him. "No elevator?"
The man appeared embarrassed. "Damn thing is broken, too."
Xander sighed and followed him as he climbed the corroded stairs that were so old some broke a little under his feet while others shook slightly. Only a few were in good shape. The bad ones almost made the dying construction worker inside him come to life again. After climbing four floors –almost thirty stairs- they finally reached his room.
It was mostly a bedroom with a small kitchen area and a door that led to his bathroom. If he was bothered by the dirt on the stairs, his room looked like no one peeked at it for centuries. He was so weary he didn’t have the energy to turn this room into a place for human beings. The idea of cleaning the room sounded insane, especially since he didn't have the tools for it. So he just flung himself on the bed, not bothering to change his clothes or take off his eye patch. He almost dozed off when he heard the man clearing his throat, "The maid will be here tomorrow."
If one of his muscles were able to work at that second, Xander would have jumped off the bed and suffocated the man with a hug. But he could only muster a grateful nod.
The man left and Xander hadn't even introduced himself. But that didn't matter at the moment because sleep was overtaking his body.
~*~*~*~
Sounds of reed pipes and shouts of strolling salesmen crept into his dull ears. Xander grumbled and tossed from left to right, trying to get back to sleep. His low grumbles became louder, and then he started to curse. Then he heard a feminine laugh -- one that was right in front of him. He startled, sitting up, and tried to look through the fog in his eye.
"Who the hell are you?" he blurted out, rubbing his eye.
His question sounded rude enough to make her face grimace. "I mean… who are you? How did you come in?" he repeated with a gentler tone.
"I'm Renee."
"Renee… Renee…" he repeated her name like an idiot, trying to make sense of why she was here. All he remembered from last night was the abraded stairs, his passport, his wallet, sleeping without dinner… but no Renee.
"I'm the maid, sir," she answered his confusion.
The maid. Right… the maid? He stared at her thoroughly. She was also of African descent-- with a good-natured, cute face. Her hair was cut very short and was hiding underneath a red bandana.
She must be the slayer he came for.
~*~*~*~
The neighborhood, though very poor, was almost as crowded as London. Loads of people were stacking the streets either by walking, driving or riding motorcycles. Who would want to venture into this crowd, bearing the smell of breaths and the smacks of sweaty shoulders? Guys his age, older and younger, walking around with their girlfriends, their hands locked, racing with those who walked single locking their newspaper into their chests.
It seemed that no one walked alone here. Or… no one lived without a love story under their sleeve. That was what he told Renee when she returned to clean his room every morning for the past three days, shocked by how messy it became whenever she arrived for room service. Xander knew he should leave the room when it was getting its clean over, but he never did. He always preferred sitting on the bed and watching Renee work.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked.
She answered with a small laugh. Then, after a few seconds, she smiled at him. "Lunch is served, sir." After that she turned around to leave the room.
His smile at the mention of food dropped the second she said "sir." He was never called that. Not even by those who ranked lower than him at work. He was always just Xander. And he liked being just Xander.
"Renee!" he shouted, startling her as she was about to exit. "Don’t you know my name?"
She looked back at him. "I do."
"Call me by my name."
"No way," she recoiled. When she noticed his determination, she stuttered, "X…Xander." Then she ran out, her footsteps could be heard on the rusty stairs.
She spoke like someone who shouldn't be a maid, talked about things Xander didn't know like Shakespearian literature and the Gulf War. If Xander could remember a thing he learned in high school, it would be the French Revolution… but how it started, he forgot. It wasn't like he needed that much info at the construction site. Besides, he usually relied on Anya when it came to historic events –after she would promise not to include her role in it.
He closed his eye wearily at the mental mention of Anya. Sometimes he wished he could go to the big hole that used to be his hometown and look for her body. But then he would remember the press and the US government hovering over there, trying to find a clue to lead them to the terrorists who turned the town into a crater.
Renee came back, holding a giant tray that contained different types of food. They were probably made by her mother or the janitor's wife. They looked more delicious than what he had seen outside while walking down the streets of this deprived neighborhood. The food made his stomach growl loudly which sent Renee into a gale of giggles.
She placed the tray in front of him and turned around to leave. "Won't you join me?" he asked.
She shook her head with an amused laugh. "No way."
This girl was much more than a maid, Xander knew, not just because she was a slayer –which he hadn't told her yet- but because of her sure movements, different accent and knowledgeable facts.
"Are you still in school, Renee?" He couldn't place her age. She looked older than a high school student and he doubted that she attended college.
"I finished high school two years ago." There was a bitter expression on her face.
"I assume the high school you attended isn’t around this area," he said it as a fact and not a question.
"You assumed wrong," she grumbled a reply-- her attitude altered all of a sudden. He regretted his arrogant assumption, which reminded him of what Anya used to say about him, he couldn't see beyond his nose.
Before she stepped outside his room, he called after her, "Thank your mom for the lovely lunch."
She looked at him over her shoulder, a hint of tears in her visible eye. "I ain't got no motha," she said sarcastically.
Xander shrank in his bed and looked at nothing but his nose.
~*~*~*~
He woke up at night from a long nap that was expected after the rich lunch he'd eaten this afternoon. The lunch reminded him of Renee, and he wanted to smack himself. He was an insensitive jerk. Giles had instructed him to find the slayer, to tell her about her calling and then give her the choice: join the new council or don't. It was up to her. But Xander didn't like that approach; he wanted to get to know the slayers first before breaking the news to them. He'd hate to be like one of those council men, who would drop the news on the slayers like a nuclear bomb.
He desperately wanted Renee to accept the offer, to be one of the soldiers. She had a lot of potential that was being wasted on cleaning strangers' bedrooms.
With a sigh, Xander grabbed his cell phone and speed-dialed Willow's number. He hadn't phoned his friends at all. It was Willow who had called to check if he had arrived safely.
"Hey there, Columbus, how's America?" her cheerful voice was heaven to his ear.
"Old and dusty," he replied with a laugh. "How's my favorite redhead?"
"Is that Xander?" He heard Dawn's voice from the other end asking Willow with lovable eagerness.
"Helping someone's lazy behind to study," Willow answered his question with good nature.
"Tell him Dawn says hi."
"Did you hear that?" Willow asked with a hint of laughter in her voice.
"Heard it. Tell her Xander hi-s back."
"Xander says hi."
Dawn squealed.
Xander smiled affectionately. He missed them all right. But he wasn't sure he wanted to be around them these days. Not until his gloomy mood lightened up.
"So, did you find your first slayer?" Willow asked.
"Yeah, but haven't told her yet. Still testing the waters."
"Don't take your time. You've got lots on your list."
"I know. I just… I really want this one on board."
"Do I smell attraction?"
"Willow," Xander chided. "It's been only a month since Anya's… since she passed away."
"I'm sorry, Xander. I was out of line."
"It's okay." He must change the subject before Willow popped the question that would open the can of worms, not needing another lecture on the healthiness of opening up and letting it out. "So how are Buffy and Giles?"
"Busy, busy, busy. And I think we're moving to Scotland."
Xander frowned. "Seriously?"
"Not all of us. But you know about the slayer bases all over the world. Buffy's will be in Scotland. You know, nothing as isolating as a castle in the middle of freaking nowhere. It's the perfect place for slayers to feel safe. You've seen the news, haven’t you?"
"Yeah, I have." His country's government was dead serious on catching the 'terrorist' Buffy Summers and the likes of her. They knew there was something weird about these girls-- in the sense that they were stronger than an average human-- which made them demons in their own right. 'The terrorists' shouldn't be let astray and that meant new problems for the Scoobies.
"I'm not sure a castle is the best way to hide from governments."
"Well, we chose a castle because of the space issue. Many rooms for all the girls under our charge, and we'll still have more to make training rooms. As for protection, I'll see to that." Xander could see the grin of a proud, powerful witch as easily as he could spot that small mosquito circling the lamp in the ceiling.
"And Giles?" he asked, rubbing his itching eye. It felt like an eyelash fell in it.
"His base is gonna remain in England. Wood and Faith are gonna take Cleveland and Vi will be in charge of the New York base."
"Vi? Our Vi?" When he had first met her, she was just a cute bubbly girl with a unique taste in hats. He kind of felt a brotherly pride thinking of the strong woman she'd become.
"Yeah. Time for the older slayers to share their experience."
Bases, soldiers, quarters, it sounded too military for him.
No surprise there. He wasn't naïve enough to think that they would actually get to live a normal life after defeating The First. He knew that if he stuck by Buffy's side, he could forget about a normal life. He’d known that since he was sixteen. And life kept getting more abnormal, especially after they had changed the world. Giving up normal life was the price they had to pay for changing the lives of so many girls.
This time, Xander would face the consequences.
"How's Buffy doing?" he asked with concern. He didn't suppose his friend thought that things would get this messy after doing that big spell. Her plan was to defeat The First, but she didn't think far ahead. She didn't think about the changes she would evoke, and the new responsibilities she'd laid on her shoulders, Xander could sympathize with that.
"Like I said, busy. We barely see her these days."
Dawn grumbled something offensive, but Xander couldn't make it out.
"C'mon, Dawn," Willow gasped. "You know Buffy is doing the best she can."
Xander didn't need to guess what Dawn had grumbled about. It was obvious Buffy was trying to distract herself with work just like Xander was doing right now. Both of them had lost important people in their lives and both of them wanted to wallow alone without the pray of pitying eyes. It made the two of them unaware of how much Dawn was suffering due to their neglect. Thank God for Willow. She was the only one around to help Dawn catch up with school, the only one around to look after her. If Willow wasn't around, Xander wouldn't want to guess about what would happen to Dawn.
~*~*~*~
After he finished his phone call with Willow, Xander decided to walk the streets and fetch for dinner. He jumped down the stairs, not caring if he would break one on the way. He found the 'janitor' who was actually the owner of the building sitting in his usual spot and smoking. He looked like Spike, except Spike was - white and younger and Mr. Desmond Johnson was black and older. Actually, they were different in everything. But at that second, Mr. Johnson looked confident and badass, unlike the hesitant man Xander had met the first night he came to this dump.
An old, rusty car passed by and Mr. Johnson shook his head with a scoff. "We ain't rolling tight whips in this neighborhood."
Xander shrugged before being startled by Mr. Johnson's children who popped out of nowhere and raced inside the collapsing building. Mr. Johnson let out a soft laugh, looking at them fondly.
Xander shifted slightly, his hands going inside his pockets. "What do you know about Renee, sir?" he asked, feeling his cheeks blush.
"Sweet girl, but no brains," he answered plainly.
The simplicity of his answer stunned Xander, who couldn't find a reply to convince this man that he was wrong.
"She's my niece," Mr. Johnson went on. "We raised her back when we got no children. Then luck changed and here they are." He grinned happily at the squealing three children. He didn't mention how Renee lost her parents and Xander didn't ask. He didn't want a repeat to this afternoon's tragedy.
~*~*~*~
The next morning, Renee came back wearing a smiling face, as if yesterday's episode never happened. Xander was grateful to the point where he was actually helping her clean his room. She didn't mind, but she kept sending him amused glances.
"You love reading books, don't you, Renee?" he guessed as he folded his last night's pants. They didn't need to be washed. Thankfully the dinner he had last night didn't make him sick afterwards.
"Yeah, I do. It's a nightly ritual." She ruffled his pillow while making the bed. "Why do you ask?"
"Curious. You seem like a reading type of girl."
"I am," she replied with a grin. "I also enjoy technology. I scored high in my Computer Science exam back in high school. Thought I'd be great as a computer programmer or a computer engineer." She took her broom and started sweeping the floor. "Do you read?"
"Not that much. Unless it has panels…and superheroes."
She turned to look at him, her mouth wide open. "You read comic books?"
"Yeah. Why?" He looked at her, knowing the answer before she said it.
"Well, that eye patch doesn't say geek to me."
Bingo. Xander threw the folded pants into the closet, ruining the neat folding. He placed his hands on his hips and painted Willow's 'I can't believe you said that' expression on his face. "Are you judging me off my looks, Renee?"
She stuttered, but nothing came out of her lips, before she scowled.
Xander laughed, swearing that her uncle was the brainless one. This girl was sweet and intelligent, if a little misunderstood. Suddenly, he remembered Anya.
~*~*~*~
The atmosphere outside was calling him out to life. He inhaled the fresh air and felt the breeze play with his features and hair. For once, he could stare outside his window without the invading mosquitoes. He stepped out of his room and ran down the stairs, feeling like walking outside and accompanying the hectic crowd. He differed from them on the fact that he had nothing to hold, no girlfriend or newspaper. Well, it wasn't the first time he would feel out placed among a certain crowd.
He passed a few couples, overhearing their sweet talk. Some couples whispered to each other, others laughed, and others kissed.
Suddenly, he saw a familiar short boy-haircut. "Renee!" he cried out.
The glass of ice cubes she was holding fell off her hand and crashed into little pieces. She looked at him with horror. "Xander?!" Just like that, without any "sirs".
The boy she was kissing started to run away and so did Xander.
He ran like a lunatic without clear direction, fuming like a volcano inside. She was running after him, calling his name, asking him to stop. He didn't.
He locked the door to his small room and started to pace from left to right, knowing he had to stop just to catch his breath, but he couldn't. Who was that guy? Why was she kissing him? Then he reminded himself that she was not his girlfriend, or his friend or his sister. She was a strange girl he shouldn't have gotten attached to. She was someone with a calling and all he was supposed to do was inform her of her status and give her the choice: "Are you interested or not?" Her personal life was none of his business. He remembered her small laugh at his question the other day about having a boyfriend and it hit him that he was in a neighborhood of lovers.
Was he jealous? Did he want her as a girlfriend? Was he disappointed? Or was he just worried about the fact that she had someone in her life; therefore, she wouldn't give a crap about joining their squad?
He remembered how she had run after him, calling out his name, and then how she'd stopped when her uncle came out of his apartment. Xander glanced outside his window. She wasn't there.
~*~*~*~
Renee didn't come to his room for two days now, not after that incident. Worry lived inside him as he searched for her everywhere. In the kitchen, in front of the fountain, and he had stood in front of her uncle's apartment where she lived but she never came out. He leaned against the stairs, watching as Mr. Johnson's children ran past him, and not daring to ask them about Renee's whereabouts. Even Mr. Johnson wasn't sitting by the entrance with his cigarette.
Where did she disappear? No one answered him. He was glad that Giles never called to ask about how things had gone with him. Why did it take him this long to talk to one slayer when there were many more on his list? Xander supposed Giles had other things to worry about, like setting Buffy's base in Scotland.
More days had passed, and Xander’s stay at the motel was long over, but no one had kicked him out. He supposed since they didn't ask him about his reservation the first night he had arrived, they probably didn't know when his stay was due. All they cared about was that he was paying. Still, a week had passed and Renee was a no show. His little room missed her tidying and perfume.
Xander went to the small street located on the left side of the neighborhood, even though he had searched there before. He stood in front of the small grocery store he had stopped by a week ago… the same place where he had come across Renee. He had been counting his groceries and the money he had, which was a dollar short. The saleswoman brassily refused his offer to bring her that dollar some other time.
When he reached into his plastic bag to return one of the soda cans, Renee popped out of nowhere. "Sir!" she exclaimed, stuffing her hand into her pocket and handing the dollar to the saleswoman. Then she left with a grin.
Xander smiled sadly when he remembered her grin and looked over the chocolate bars on the shelf with disinterest. Then suddenly a familiar hand came to his vision.
Renee's hand.
"Renee!" he cried out. The two other customers in the small grocery store looked his way with curiosity, but he ignored them, looking her over. She wasn't wearing a bandana for once, allowing him a clear sight of her boy haircut. She appeared fine except for the haunted look on her face. "Where have you been this whole week?"
There was a tear in her right eye and her lips fluttered with fear. "I… I… it was me."
"What?"
"AJ. I was the one who…" tears started rushing down her cheeks like rivers. Xander blinked before it hit him. A week ago, the guy he had caught kissing Renee was found with broken bones in a nearby alley. He was in a coma, still was, therefore the police couldn't identify his attacker. Xander didn't care about it much. He was mostly worried for Renee's wellbeing.
He gently touched her shoulder. "Come to my room. Let's talk there."
"No," she whimpered. "I don’t' know what Uncle Des would do if he saw me."
"He wouldn't lay a hand on you," Xander spoke with roughness, his protective tone that was generally used when someone threatened to hurt one of his girls coming to life.
She shook her head. "I can't."
"Then let's go somewhere else. I have something to tell you." Her frightened eyes were locked in his lonely one and he wanted to kill himself. All this mess was his fault.
~*~*~*~
They found the perfect spot for their conversation in one of the neighborhood saleswomen' house. She owed Renee a favor and using her house as a hiding place was her way of returning gratitude.
"Things got so heated up." Renee paced around the room, hugging herself. Her face showed shock and fright. Xander, sitting on a chair next to the wooden table, just listened to her quietly. "He was a little forceful. I… I didn't want it to go this far, our thing is still new. But then he was grabbing my hands to make me helpless and went straight to second base. I had to stop him."
She finally stopped and for the first time since she started telling him what had happened she looked him in the eye. "I stopped him. The result was broken ribs and a coma." She looked down at her feet, appearing so small and vulnerable. "I was scared and I ran away. I couldn't tell my uncle this. I bet he's looking for me everywhere."
"Why are you telling me this?" Xander asked, mustering a Giles tone but without the accent.
She looked back at him with fearful hope. "You showed interest in me. You wanted to know more about me, even though I was just the girl who cleans your room. I know it's not lust. I know that you know something about me." Her stare was a mixture of desperation and accusation. "Why am I so strong all of a sudden?"
Xander looked at her for a few seconds before revealing a regretful sigh. "I should have broken the news the second I saw you."
"What news?" She was on the edge of panic, just waiting for the blow. Xander didn't want that to happen.
"Why don't you sit here?" He pointed at the chair opposite from his. "Take a few breaths and maybe a sip from this." He raised the glass of water that was poured for him but didn't drink it.
She did as he told and to his relief she appeared calmer. Xander shifted in his seat before he took a more comfortable position and rested his elbow on the table. "I'll start from the beginning. For centuries, one girl gets selected to be a fighter among a big number of potential girls. This girl had to protect the world from things that used to be nothing other than horror children stories; but then, we all know there's no smoke without a fire, right?"
Renee didn't reply, she looked too stunned by what he was saying. He figured that perhaps she didn't know what to be more freaked about: monsters being real or girls being superheroes.
"Anyway, for so long it had been only one girl. The other potentials waited for her to be killed, and then one of them would carry the burden. Then, about a month ago, there was this demon called The First Evil, and it wanted to stop all the potentials from becoming heroes. It started killing them one after the other, until the chosen one decided to turn all the potentials into heroes and together they were able to defeat The First. Problem is, now we've got so many girls out there not knowing about their true identity, so we decided to travel all over the world just to give them the memo -- and a choice." He paused here, mainly to take a breath, but also to see her reaction to all of this.
Her reaction was blinking and a blank expression. "Are you sure this is not just some story out of one of those comic books you read?" she asked incredulously.
"It's not a comic book, Renee. It's all real. You can either accept the reality of it or just stay in the world of denial. It's all up to you." He painted a firm look on his face to show how serious the situation was, and put hold on any attempts of jokes. Dawn was right. He was turning into Giles -which was better than turning into his father- that was for sure.
"So… I'm a superhero," Renee said slowly. He nodded. "I kill monsters." He nodded again. "And there are other superheroes just like me out there." Another nod to another statement. "This sounds too ridiculous," she laughed, shaking her head and getting off her chair.
"It really isn't," Xander said calmly.
"Oh, really?" She turned around and faced him, looking serious for once. "How am I supposed to believe that some cheap fanboy fantasy is my reality?"
"How about we visit AJ in the hospital, will you believe it then?" his tone was calm, but his sentence was meant to be harsh.
She quivered when she remembered what she had done and regressed back into being a scared little girl, gazing down at her feet. Xander stood up and walked toward her, fearlessly pulling her into a hug. "It's not your fault, Renee. It's mine. I should've told you about all of this the minute I saw you."
"Why didn't you?" she whispered into his shoulder.
"Because I wanted you out of this miserable place. You're too special to be just a maid."
"Because I'm this… hero," she said bluntly.
"No, because you're smart and intelligent. You have so much potential, which is why you used to be one."
She pulled out of his embrace and looked up at him. "So… what's my role in all of this?"
"You either go to the new council, where you'll get the training you need and help your equals defeat the big bads, or you could just remain here."
She frowned, looking at him skeptically. "So this is my choice?"
"Yes."
Renee pondered… which made Xander nervous. He wasn't really sure why he wanted her to accept her true identity and go to England, but the desperation was killing him. He hated losing control and begging, which he really wanted to do at the moment. Thankfully, he stayed put and watched as she rubbed her head in exhaustion. "I think I wanna sleep on it, before I give an answer."
This was a little disappointing, but at least she didn't say no.
"Okay. Remember, there's no pressure. You choose what you want and all is well." He walked to the door, deciding that too much time with her would defiantly lead him to begging and he didn't want to lose the image he created for himself- responsible and assured and a little mysterious.
"Would you be disappointed if I chose to stay here?" she sounded very curious, almost like his answer was very important to her.
Her question made him stop walking and something in his heart fluttered a little. "My feelings on this should not influence your decision. It's up to you," he answered, resisting the desire to look over his shoulder, then continued to the door.
"Wait…"
He stopped again.
"Comic book superheroes have names, like Batman and Superwoman or whatever. What is mine?"
A smile tucked on his lips. "A slayer." He looked at her over his shoulder with what he hoped was a charming smile.
She arched an impressed eyebrow. "That sounds kinda cool."
Xander's smile deepened. "It is."
~*~*~*~
Xander breathed into his pillow, happy that he had closed the curtains before sleeping when he noticed the flicker of light escaping into his room. He didn't feel like waking up too early and sleeping was his favorite companion ever since they had left Sunnydale. He turned to the other side and wiggled a little to get into a more comfortable position. His eye opened slightly and through the fog he could see the shape of a person gazing down at him.
He jerked up, startled, and his hand shot to his eye, rubbing the fog out of it. He looked straight into the beautiful smile of Renee.
"Hey, sir," she chirped, raising a broom and tucking on her bandana.
"Renee!" he exclaimed. His eye examined her, noting with disappointment the maid's uniform and the cleaning equipments. "So, um, you made your choice."
"Yep."
"I see," his tone dropped and it was really hard to appear nonchalant about it. A part of him actually wanted to lie down and resume sleeping, in case she said no…then it would all be just a bad dream.
"How about you head straight to the bathroom? I do a much better job when you're not helping." She went to the curtains and pulled them open, revealing the blinding rays of sun. Xander grimaced, looking away to shield his lonely eye. "Besides, I want my last day of cleaning bedrooms to be special."
Xander blinked. "Last…" he stopped when his eye landed on her. Her dark skin glowed surrounded by the sunlight and her smile was brighter than the golden rays.
"I just talked to Uncle Des. He gave me his blessing."
"So, you… you're on board?" He got on his knees on the bed with excitement; not caring that he probably looked like an excited eight- year- old kid who was going to get a toy firetruck for Christmas.
"Yeah." She nodded. "I choose to be a slayer."
"Renee, that's… that's just…"
"Go brush your teeth now and then you can tell me about how grateful you are." She pushed him off the bed and laughed as he clumsily fell on his back. He rubbed his bottom with his hand and pouted at the loss of his respectful image. She started making the bed when he stumbled into the bathroom.
He stared at the reflection of his stubbly face on the mirror and a goofy smile blossomed. She was on board. Hurray! He would call Giles and arrange for Renee to fly to England where someone would be waiting for her. He would make sure to tell Giles to focus on teaching her some computer programming stuff. She would love that. Meanwhile, Xander must return to his job. He had wasted so much time here, even though it was worth it.
Okay, next stop would be Transylvania. He hoped his stay there would be shorter.
The End.