Additional Disclaimer: All things HP belong to J.K. Rowling.
Spoilers: All seasons of BtVS and Highlander. No HP spoilers - I think.
Revision Posted: 18-Jul-2009
Chapter Title: London Calling
From her window seat in the small chip shop, Fann stared down the street at the large building. Partially obscured by the drizzling rain, it seemed to loom over the buildings that surrounded it.
They'd been in London for a week, Amanda showing her around while they waited to hear from a contact about a possible job somewhere in England or Scotland. So far all she'd seen were a large number of museums, antique dealers, and mansions. They'd done the same thing in Madrid the month before, and Paris before that. In addition to getting her used to international traveling, and working on her fluency in a number of languages, Amanda seemed intent on Fann gaining first hand knowledge of several cities in Europe she considered ripe for the picking.
Blowing the steam off the top of her mug, Fann sighed and took a sip. While she was enjoying the time she spent with Amanda, she wondered when she would be considered good enough to tackle more complex jobs. She had been involved in the planning for many of the bigger jobs Amanda had pulled off since Fann had become her apprentice but so far she'd only allowed Fann to be directly involved in the small jobs they could do together.
Fann knew that the immortal thief didn't feel the same sense of urgency that she did. To Amanda it would always be a game she had plenty of time to play. Fann, on the other hand, felt the urge to do something, anything. And now she was just sitting, watching a large building and trying to see if anything obvious happened while Amanda walked around it.
"So, what did you notice?" Amanda asked, gracefully slipping into the seat across from Fann, blocking her view of the street.
"Nothing happened," Fann said. She frowned before adding, "You walked around the building. People walked in. People walked out. Kind of boring."
"Good," Amanda said, giving her a faint smile. "I haven't been by there in years. They don't seem to have done anything special since then."
"What do you mean?" Fann asked, confused at Amanda's comment. She hadn't explained why they were checking out this particular building.
"I wanted to see if they'd notice an immortal nearby," She said quietly, keeping her voice low even though they currently had the shop to themselves. "If they did, it appears they don't care."
"Why would they care?" Fann asked, not bothering to point out the obvious, that just because Amanda didn't notice a reaction to her presence that there wasn't one. "And who are they, exactly?"
"My sources say that is the headquarters for the Council of Watchers."
"The same sources that didn't mention that sonic alarm last month?" Fann asked skeptically. It hadn't bothered Amanda but her own ears had ached for a week afterward.
"No, much better ones," Amanda told her with a wink. "In that building are some of the answers to your questions about your destiny." Lazily taking Fann's cup, she leaned back in her chair. "When you are ready to find out what being chosen could mean you'll find what you want to know in that building."
"So, you think I should just walk up and ask them?" Fann asked her in disbelief. Given how much time Amanda had spent drilling into her the concept that the direct approach could be fatal, it was a little surprising to the younger woman to hear her suggest it.
"Not unless you want to work for them for the rest of an unnaturally short life," Amanda said, shivering dramatically. "Not something I would recommend. Especially after all the time we've spent on your training."
"Then what did you have in mind?" Fann asked, retrieving her cup.
Amanda stared off into space for a minute before focusing on her again and grinning. "I was thinking more of doing a little nocturnal exploring some time."
"When?" Fann asked, looking over Amanda's shoulder at the building with new interest.
"From what I've heard over the years, they have an unusual security system." She reached over again and took Fann's cup, taking a sip from it. "According to rumor, they use some kind of magic to guard the building. Getting past it could be an interesting challenge."
"Magic?" Fann looked at Amanda in disbelief for a moment. "What kind of magic are we talking about? Fairy tale magic or the mind control stuff Cassandra does?"
"I don't know," Amanda admitted. "There are supposed to be several different kinds. Like ice cream."
"Ice cream?" Fann just barely kept her voice from squeaking in surprise.
"Like flavors. Or so I've been told. Most immortals who claim to do magic can only do the 'stuff' that Cassandra can do. And the rest of us usually try to stay away from anything that seems to be magic," Amanda said, shrugging her shoulders. "I've seen stranger things over the years that I can't explain. Things that other people would call magic. Of course, I'm not the one with a mythical ancestor. I bet you could do magic to get us in there."
"I don't know any magic," Fann protested, sighing at her now empty cup. She wasn't about to argue that Cassandra was wrong in her claim that her grandmother was one of the Sidhe, but it was really a moot point. Even if it were true, the Sidhe were supposedly long gone and she had no way of learning any magic from them.
"Not right now," Amanda said in cheerful agreement. "But there's plenty of time to learn."
"When is that?" Fann grumbled. "Unlike you I'm not going to live forever."
"No, but you will live longer than most," Amanda said. "You need to take the long view."
Fann laughed at that bit of advice from the original 'live for today' party girl immortal. "With all of the things you and Duncan have me doing, when will I have time to learn about magic? The only witch I know is Cassandra and she's too busy being mysterious to be interested in teaching me anything useful."
"There are others who call themselves witches," Amanda said, shrugging. "I'm sure we'll eventually run into one who would be interested in teaching you enough magic for a joint venture like that."
"And that?" Fann asked, waving vaguely in the direction of the building across the street.
"I thought it would be useful for you to know where they are," Amanda said.
"Thanks." Fann shoved the information to the back of her mind. She had no interested in this Council but learning magic as a long term goal she could do. She looked at her companion. "So, what's next?"
"We have a meeting with our source in a small pub. The Leaky Cauldron is a twenty minute walk from here," Amanda said, standing up and stretching like a contented cat as she did so.
Rising from her own seat, Fann smiled to herself at the reactions of the mostly male patrons who'd entered the shop while they were talking. She was continually amazed at Amanda's ability to attract attention from the opposite sex even while getting away with robbing them the way she did.
Walking at a leisurely pace, they arrived at their destination with plenty of time to spare. The pub sat between a second hand bookshop and a ratty looking record store. Fann looked at it dubiously. "Are you sure this is it?" she asked, turning towards Amanda.
"Yes. This is it," Amanda confirmed. "It caters to a very select group of people. Fortunately we shouldn't be here long."
Fann gave her a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"
"You'll see," Amanda told her. "Just act normally and we'll be okay."
Fann raised an eyebrow at her comment. Following her into the pub, Fann shivered at the strange sensation she felt as they crossed the threshold. "What was that?" she asked quietly so only Amanda could hear her.
"It's protected by some kind of magic that keeps out people who don't belong," Amanda said, keeping her own voice low while looking around.
Fann gave her a look. This was the second mention of magic in a day, more than she'd heard since their visit to Cassandra months ago. "One of those flavors?"
"Maybe. I think," Amanda said. "It's also a good place for an immortal to do business if you don't want your watcher following you."
"I thought we lost her days ago?" Fann said, looking around curiously, not seeing their usual shadow. She occasionally wondered what the watchers thought of her presence in Amanda's life but she tried not to dwell on it too much. As Joe had told her when she'd complained about some bumbling watcher in the past, her relationship with Amanda gave her an immortality of sorts of her own in the Watcher chronicles that few mortals would ever have.
"No, I'm sure she's around here somewhere. She's just gotten more cautious since you caught her at the airport," Amanda said with a quick grin.
Fann echoed her grin at the memory of the watcher's face when she'd been escorted out of the airport by what looked like a Goth nun and a priest.
Amanda was still grinning slightly when the barkeep showed them to a private room. It was occupied by an old man with long white hair and twinkling eyes behind half-moon glasses. In the dim candle light he seemed to be dressed in the same odd style of clothes she'd seen the other pub patrons wearing.
He waved them over to seats next to his, near a small fireplace on the other side of the room, before ordering drinks from the hovering barkeep.
"I hadn't realized any descendants of the Sidhe were still walking the earth," the old man commented when Amanda introduced her.
"How can you tell?" Fann asked, surprised, before Amanda could say anything. "I didn't know I had any Sidhe blood myself until recently. Not that anyone can tell me what it means."
He just smiled at her for a moment before answering. "To some of us it is very clear where your family comes from." He seemed to think for another moment before continuing. "And what it means? That is up to you. There is some power in knowing where your ancestors come from. There are those who would envy your connections to the mystical past of these islands."
"Albus..." Amanda said to him, the warning clear in her tone. "We're not here to get involved in any of your schemes. You promised me a job appropriate to Fann's current skills."
It was obvious to Fann that there was some history between Amanda and the old man, but even with the observation skills she'd learned from Amanda she was unable to determine what kind of relationship they'd had in the past. Leaning back, she settled in to watch the show.
"Yes. Well..." He winked at Fann. "It will certainly provide that."
They were interrupted by a barmaid bearing drinks for all of them. Fann imagined she could smell the alcohol coming from the other glasses as she moved forward to accept her own mug.
"Okay, what do you need us for?" Amanda asked, frowning at him. "And none of your life lesson tasks please," she added.
The direction the conversation was taking was confusing Fann but knowing Amanda she remained quiet, once more sitting back as she sipped her oddly flavored beverage.
"I need you to retrieve an object for me," he told her. "It fell into the wrong hands a few years ago and I suddenly find a need for it."
"Why don't you just get it yourself? And why wait until now to get it?" Amanda asked him. "I would think it would be easy for one of your people to take it without anyone noticing."
"Well, I don't see any need to attract attention to it by the wrong parties." He pursed his lips in thought as if trying to decide what to tell them. "It's been perfectly safe where it is until now. Using my normal methods to retrieve it would raise questions best left unasked. We need something a bit more subtle."
"So what is it?" Amanda asked.
He handed a small photograph across to her. "It's in the Maritime Museum." he told them.
"I've seen it." Amanda admitted, handing the photo to Fann. "What makes it so special? Other than its age?"
"Ah... I can't tell you that," He demurred.
"Understood," Amanda said, shrugging as if it weren't important. "So, when do you need it?" she asked. Fann handed the photo back after a quick look.
"As soon as you can arrange it," he said.
"We'll need at least two weeks," Amanda told him, Fann nodding in agreement. It was on the list of London museum plans Amanda had insisted she memorize before their trip but they hadn't managed to visit it in person yet to confirm the accuracy of the plans.
"Good. Good." He smiled delightedly at them. "Let me know when you have it."
They sat for another few minutes discussing mutual acquaintances before he left them. Following several minutes later, Amanda and Fann left the pub and its inhabitants behind. Heading in the direction of their hotel, they window shopped, leaving a discussion of their plans until they were alone.
Once they were back in their room, Fann turned to Amanda "It isn't an ordinary sword is it?"
"No. We'll definitely need to find out more about it before we pick it up," she acknowledged, dropping onto the couch in their suite. "There's bound to be more to it than he claimed." She looked at her watch. "I need to make a few calls. Why don't you take a cab to the museum and take a look around?"
"Like this?" She gestured to her clothes. Intent on being taken seriously, she'd dressed as maturely as possible that morning before they'd begun their day. One of the first things she'd learned from Amanda was how clothes could be effectively used to change her appearance. It wasn't as much fun as some of the other things she'd learned in the last year but she'd been surprised at how much she actually enjoyed dressing up when it was for a job.
"No," Amanda said, examining her thoughtfully. "Something younger looking would be better. You might actually want to dress your age this time." She grinned at the face Fann gave her.
"Okay," She grumbled. "But if I get in trouble for hitting any teenage boys you get to bail me out!"
"Not a problem," Amanda said, smirking. "Just be glad you can still look young when you need to. It's a good way to stay unnoticed."
"Well, I haven't felt my age in years. And I prefer it that way," she said. Amanda just shook her head and pointed imperiously towards her bedroom. Straight-faced, Fann curtseyed in an exaggerated fashion before impudently sticking out her tongue. Twirling around she headed to her room intent on changing into something more school girlish, but not too much. Attracting the wrong kind of attention wasn't part of the plan. She ignored the laughter coming from the couch as she changed.
Casually strolling around the museum, Fann could see the wisdom of Amanda's advice to dress her age. There were at least three different school groups wandering around when she arrived at the museum in Greenwich. No one seemed to pay her any attention as long as she kept moving and didn't stand in one place for too long.
She found the sword in a large case with several others, all labeled according to size and age. From a distance it seemed to be a simple weapon. It was very plain. Nothing special, she'd seen similar weapons elsewhere. Stepping closer in the crowded room, she thought she could see it shimmer in the harsh museum light. Looking casually around to make sure no one was watching her, she ran her hand along the length of the sword, just above the case. As she did so her hand seemed to tingle slightly. It definitely wasn't ordinary.
Fann spent the next hour wandering around the rest of the museum comparing the memorized map in her head with what she was seeing. The museum's physical security systems she could see seemed to match the information Amanda had been able to get on them. A closer look would have to wait for Amanda's more experienced eye.
It wasn't until she'd stopped in the museum cafe to grab a quick drink that she became aware of her shadow. Somewhere during her exploration of the museum she'd picked up a tail without noticing them. Someone hidden in the crowd seemed to be following her, just at the very edge of her enhanced senses. It was as if they had a very good idea of her abilities. Fann wondered who it could be. Not even the immortals she'd spent the better part of the last nine months with knew how accurate her senses were.
Ducking into an unoccupied exhibit room she waited as patiently as possible, just out of sight, to see who would pass. Over the next ten minutes she could hear a large number of people walking by but none of them entered the room. Just as she was about to leave her hiding place a tall, older man wandered into the room. There was something very familiar about him. She watched him meander from display to display for several minutes before she realized where she'd seen him from before.
The man strongly resembled one of the men she'd occasionally seen in the nightmares that had eventually driven her from her childhood home. He was older than she remembered, his appearance slightly more worn. But he'd definitely been with one of the multitude of young girls she'd dreamed of. Dreamed of dying during those painful months. In her mind, his face was connected to the blonde one who'd appeared the most during those months. The other nightmares had been horrifying but those had been the worst, the realest.
She couldn't be sure that he'd been the person trailing her earlier. His appearance could have just been a coincidence, but Fann followed him anyway, being very careful to keep him at a safe distance. As stealthily and silently as possible she followed him out of the building, out onto the museum grounds. She kept her distance until he stopped and sat on a park bench overlooking the Observatory.
Giving herself enough room to get away quickly if necessary, Fann nonchalantly perched at the other end of the bench, arranging her skirt protectively over her knees. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know how he'd found her but she gave him several minutes to say something before impatiently breaking the silence herself.
"I'm sure it must be illegal, even here, for old men to stalk young girls," She told him without looking in his direction. She could sense him starting in surprise, though she didn't know what had caused it. "And if it isn't it should be," she added, turning to look at him at that point. "Why were you following me?" She asked bluntly.
Not denying it, he removed his glasses and carefully cleaned them before answering her question. "You reminded me of someone," he told her quietly, searching her face, obviously looking for something. "You have a similar look, though I wasn't expecting an American."
"Well, I'm not her and won't be taking her place," Fann said, indirectly answering his unasked question. "I have a different destiny," she said. "I can't follow hers. Those men in their old building don't need me to fight her monsters. I have my own path to follow," she mumbled. "Or so I've been told."
"Destiny can be a harsh taskmaster. It can come for you when you least expect it," He said, giving her a sympathetic look before asking curiously, "What are your plans?"
"I still have a lot to learn. About myself. About my future," she admitted. "I'm not ready to follow my destiny yet. I don't know when I will be but I've found my own teachers. I don't need your help or your Council's."
He nodded. "I understand. She is also independent," he said reluctantly. "If you need any advice or help while you learn you can find her in Sunnydale, California." Taking out a pen, he wrote something on a small card and handed it to her before getting to his feet.
Taking the card without looking at it, she crammed it into a pocket, staring at him, puzzled. She hadn't expected an offer of help. Or the information he'd given her. The few times she'd envisioned meeting one of these men she'd dreamed of, the ones who watched the Chosen, she'd expected something more confrontational or forceful resulting in her running away. "Isn't she dead?"
"No..." He said, shaking his head sadly before turning and walking away. She heard him say, almost to himself, "Sometimes destiny doesn't allow you to rest in peace. It finds a way to drag you back into the world."
She watched him until he disappeared into the distant crowds, unable to process what he'd said, before heading back to the museum herself.
She stomped noisily into their suite at the hotel. The trip back from the museum hadn't allowed her the additional time she'd needed to really process what the old man had told her. Instead, she'd simply gotten angry.
"What's wrong?" Amanda asked, coming out of her bedroom.
"I ran into someone at the museum," Fann told her, sitting down and angrily throwing off her shoes and socks. After rubbing her feet for a minute, she stood up and started pacing. "I can't believe it!"
"What can't you believe?" Amanda asked, watching her stomp back and forth across the room in her bare feet.
"She's not dead!" Fann said, spitting out her answer as she came to a stop in the middle of the room. Standing there, her hands on her hips, she wasn't sure if she should be screaming at the injustice or crying.
"Who isn't dead?" Amanda asked her, confused.
"The Chosen One who died to make me like this," Fann said. "I had nightmares about her for months," she added, finally sitting down. "She wasn't the only one but I dreamed about her the most. I saw her and other girls dying horrible deaths in my dreams. Fighting horrible creatures."
She started to shake and sat down again, wrapping her arms around her knees and trying to calm herself down. "He said her destiny wouldn't let her stay dead. Wouldn't let her be at peace." She looked at Amanda, trying to hold back tears. "Why? Who would do that to someone?" she asked, hoping for some kind of wisdom from someone who'd seen death so many times before.
Sitting down next to her, Amanda wrapped her arms around her in a comforting hug. "I don't know," she said quietly.
Notes:
* Yes, the bit with Giles needs some work. How does he know she's a slayer and why doesn't he try to convince her to go to Sunnydale or to the Council? It's all too vague. Someday I might fix it.
* The job for Albus Dumbledore will be covered in a future story.
* This occurs before the First started picking off potential slayers in BtVS Season 7.