The Long Run
Disclaimer: Own nothing!
Summary: Xander has been away from the Counsil for 2 years, and made a home for himself in Africa. But when a race between the US Government and pirates for an ancient treasure brings itself to his doorstep, Xander's going to need all the help he can get to keep his new home safe – and save his ass as well!
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Bangalla, Southern Africa...2008:
"Morning, Captain," Buru greeted his employer.
"Coffee," the one-eyed white man ground out, shuffling into the bridge of the small catamaran as he blinked sleep away as quickly as possible.
"You alright, Captain," Buru asked, worried for his boss and friend.
"Coffee," Xander ground out again, and Buru, knowing that his boss was very very mean when he was in dire need of caffeine, relinquished the pot to him, and the man poured himself a large cup, gulping it down quicker than Buru believed was possible, "Do me a favor, Buru? Go to the fridge and grab me a twinkie."
"Right, Captain," Buru nodded, moving his large Ving Rhames like body as quickly as he could, pulling out a pack of his captain's most prized food.
"Thanks," Xander said, ripping it open and shoving the yellow snack down his throat, "Ugh...when's our group arriving?"
"Ten minues, Captain," Buru said, "I've got the men prepping right now, we should be ready to cast off momentarily."
"Right," Xander nodded, sinking down into his seat as he did so, "Ugh, remind me to listen to your advice next time we get invited to a Jungle Patrol party the night before we have an 8am tour."
"You got drunk," Buru sighed, leaning against the bulkhead as he did so, "Xander, what have I told you about that?"
"Don't do it, I know, I know," Xander sighed, drinking his coffee, "But, c'mon! It was a Jungle Patrol party, you know those guys are connected up the wazzoo! The alcohol, the food, the women, oh my God, the women."
"But you had an 8am tour, and you should quit drinking as it is," Buru said sternly, not willing to back down, "Last weekend, I found you passed out on the dock! You would have drowned without my intervention."
"Nah uh," Xander eloquently replied, "I've passed out in worse situations, Hell, I've been knocked out in worse situations and been fine!"
"I pulled your skinny white ass out of the water, Xander," Buru glared.
"...Maybe," Xander begrudgingly admitted, "C'mon, Buru, you know me. You know I don't drink when we're out on the water, or when I'm in the shop!"
"True," Buru agreed, "But when you're not in either of those situations, it's rare to find you without a bottle in your hand or on your lips!"
"Gah," Xander groaned, "Just gimme a break, I'm tired, ok? Plus, we got a tour coming in, I wanna be sharp."
"...Very well, Xander," Buru lifted himself off the bulkhead, shaking the dust off his jeans and wifebeater as he did so. He pointed at Xander and said, "But this is not over, by any means!"
"Fine, fine," Xander said, "In the meantime, to your station, 1st Mate," Xander stuck his tongue out, earning himself a grin from his friend.
"Fine, Captain," Buru smirked, "Just watch your back, you might wind up with our main attractions if you stick out your tongue again."
"Promises, promises," Xander laughed.
"Oh, and Captain," Buru turned back from the ladder to look at Xander, "Be on your toes. I have it on good authority that Captain Jack is gonna show a tour group at the same time this morning."
"Gah, fuckin' A," Xander ground out, "Will he never gimme a break?!"
"Not for a while," Buru smirked, "Oh, and Captain, you might want to button your shirt...and put on some pants."
Xander stared at him for a moment, then looked down, finding that he was dressed in a pair of engineer's boots, a white button-up dress shirt, and a pair of very dirty boxers.
"...I seem to have misplaced my jeans," Xander sighed, "Take lead and stall if the tour gets here, Buru, I'mma go get some pants from storage."
"Aye, aye, Captain," Buru laughed.
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An hour or so later, a fully sober (not to mention, dressed) Captain Xander Harris stood on the deck of his catamaran before a group of 7 individuals, including a family of 4 from France and 3 college students from America.
"Good morning, ladies and gents," Xander greeted them, smoothing out his wrinkled jeans as he did so, "We are now about 12 miles off the coast of Bangalla, home to a smaller island which is populated primarily by seals. These waters are home to seals, dolphins, whales and, the stars, our friendly neighborhood great white sharks. Welcome to Shark Tours Xtreme," Xander said with a grin, "Today, we're going to allow the majority of you to observe-"
He stopped speaking for a moment, hearing a splashing to his right as he did so and, noticing that most of his clients had turned their heads starboard, turned his as well, and saw a massive great white shark falling into the water, a dead seal stuck in its mouth for all to see.
"...Observe," he picked up, regaining their attention, "These majestic and dangerous creatures from the safety of the boat, and then, in pairs, allow you to go into our shark cages to get a near Jaws-eye-view of these creatures. For safety reasons, I must insist that all remain inside the boat at all times, and to make no attempt whatsoever to touch a shark, as these are wild animals that can harm you if you act recklessly."
"Captain," Xander turned to see Jumaane, another of his crewmen, standing at the observation deck, "We got a ship comin' in, 'bout 120 meters to our starboard bow. Looks like it's Captain Jack, Sir."
"Ah," Xander smiled thinly, mostly for his customers, "Another shark tour group. Myself and Captain Jack have been in a bit of a war for some time."
"He's comin' in fast, Captain," Jumaane warned.
Sure enough, his crazy rival pulled up less than 30 meters from him. Xander sighed, but refused to back down to his rival. Captain Jack was a lot of things: liar, con artist, bragger, liar, swindler, liar, a gimmick, oh, and did he mention liar?
Captain Jack used the allure and danger of the great white and the connection to pirates of old to his advantage. He painted his own catamaran brown and actually to the trouble to make it look as though it really were made of wood, and decorated it with everything from an old-timey helm to a supposedly real jolly roger (a black flag with a skull turned to the right, facing a red sparrow, with a bandana on its head and crossbones beneath it) from the 1700s.
He even dressed the part, as he was stood on the deck of his ship, dressed in the stereotypical coat, tricorner hat, even with a rapier by his side, standing with his legs apart as though he'd been on the seas his whole life (which, in all fairness, he had).
"Top of the mornin' to ye, ya bloody ponce," Captain Jack shouted out, drawing his blade as he did so, "AVAST! STRIKE YER COLORS, YA MOTHERLESS DOG!"
Xander sighed, looked up at his mast, which held the flag of Bangalla, the United States flag, and his company's flag (a white flag with blue waters, with a shark's fin rising out of the water and a black mark crossing it, making an 'X'). A very large part of him wanted to really pull out a pistol and see which man would come out the victor, but he knew that he'd never do that, no matter how much he'd love to hit 'Jack Sparrow' in the face.
"Bring it on, Sparrow," Xander returned, smirking as he did so, "At least I don't gotta go outta my way to look the part, Jack! I've got the eye patch!"
"Aye, indeed," Sparrow smirked back, "And yet, you lack the ecumenical know-it-all to even accomplish so simple a task as zipping up your trousers!"
Xander frowned, then instinctively looked down, finding that he had, indeed, forgotten to zip up his pants. Both crews and tour groups, along with Jack, laughed openly at that, even as Xander zipped them up.
Xander turned and glared at Buru, who was doing his very best to look innocent.
"...I'll make you walk the plank next time you do that," Xander glared, then he turned back to Jack, "And as for you, Sparrow, how 'bout you pull back some, you idiot!"
"In a moment, mate," Sparrow smirked, taking off his coat and turning his back to him, "I wanted to give ya a good, long look at this!"
He yanked down his pants, revealing his naked ass for the world to see, shaking it in Xander's direction, making him suffer as he read the letters 'F' and 'U' on the left and right cheek, respectively.
Xander smirked, even as the groups laughed, and reached into his pockets, pulling out the other twinkie as he did so. He took aim, lined up his shot, then threw.
The twinkie hit him, splattering its yellow self and white insides directly onto Captain Jack Sparrow's ass, causing the captain to gasp and lose his balance, falling onto the deck of his ship.
Xander laughed openly along with the rest of them, even as Jack struggled to his feet and hastily pulled up his pants.
"Aye," Xander replied, "You sure showed me, Sparrow. Thanks for the lesson. I'll remember to keep my bare ass clear of any flying pastries, lest I wind up kissin' the deck! With tongue!"
Sparrow reddened in the face and, finding no words to return, flipped him the middle finger. Xander smirked, and turned away from him, ignoring Captain Jack as he ordered his crew to turn to port.
"Alright," Xander smiled, "So, we've seen a shark, had a small war of words, indicent exposure, and finally a very one-sided food fight. Who's up for more sharks?!"
The group laughed and cheered, and settled themselves around the deck, watching the waters for signs of their prey.
"Captain," Xander turned to Buru, who was holding the radio with a shaky hand and a frown on his face, "I just received a communication from the USS Kidd. They're sending a zodiac craft to pick you up."
"...What," Xander asked, confused as all Hell.
"They claim it's a matter of extreme urgency," Buru said, equally confused, "For both the U.S. and Bangalla."
Xander sighed, rubbing his head in frustration.
"It never ends."
