author: Lucinda

rating: pg13?

main characters: Rupert Giles and Amanda

disclaimer: Giles (and anyone else recognizable from BtVS) is the creation of Joss Whedon & his writers. Amanda is the creation of the Highlander the Series writing staff. Panzer/Davis owns the publication rights.

distribution: Twisting, Mental Wanderings

notes: Pairing #77 for Twisting's holiday FfA. Set roughly in season 4 BtVS (The kids have graduated, the HS was blown up) and having no other connection to the series timeline. Semi-sequel to 'Stolen Moments'

Amanda could feel her muscles burning as she tried to outrun the men chasing her. She'd simply decided to liberate something from the local museum as a Christmas present to herself, and had the unfortunate luck to time her efforts for the same night as some large, brawny looking characters had also been liberating something. But while she'd gone after this lovely emerald and pearl necklace, they were going after some weird, crude knife. Or rather, they had been. Now they were going after her.

From the way their faces had changed to yellow eyes and sharp fangs, she was guessing vampires. God, she hated vampires. Amanda had lost track of the times she'd been killed by them, but it was never, ever a good thing. Except, they did have a few weaknesses that she might be able to use to her benefit. Like the thing about houses, for example...

She'd just ran into an apartment complex, with lots of low, linked apartments reminding her of the rows of tenements in London. If they didn't have deadbolts, she might be able to get inside one, and the vampires wouldn't be able to follow her. Whoever lived there might not even be home, and they probably wouldn't be worse than a pack of vampire minions.

Picking one at random, she ran past the somewhat battered pale car, and her hands found the cold metal doorknob. To her delighted surprise, it twisted, and she was able to push it open and fling herself inside the protection of the house. Slamming the door behind her, she tried to catch her breath as she rose to her feet, looking at her impromptu sanctuary.

Several sets of bookshelves were crammed with aged, leather bound tomes. A man stood beside a brown couch, a loaded crossbow pointed at her while wisps of steam rose from a teacup on the table.

Actually, he looked rather familiar.

"Amanda?" Her name was a whisper from his lips, and he stared at her in shock.

She blinked, her mind trying to place the man. She didn't feel the warning buzz of an immortal, so she was probably safe. Unless he was one of those Watchers, especially if he was from that twisted splinter faction that had been hunting them. An image floated to the top of her mind, London, close to twenty years ago, and a delightful young man trying to rebel against his respectable family. "Ripper?"

"I haven't been using that name for a while." His voice was a bit less shocked, but still wary. "You... you were dead. That vampire killed you."

Amanda resisted the urge to shrug and quip that 'she'd got better.' Considering the closeness that they'd had then and her abrupt return tonight, he deserved a few real answers. "It's complicated. I'm not that easy to get rid of. He did kill me, and it hurt. But unless... Well, it wasn't permanent."

"And you don't look any older." The crossbow lowered, and he sank back to the couch. "Care for tea?"

"Tea might be good. Maybe fortified with Scotch if you've got any?" Amanda moved closer, letting herself drop onto the matching brown chair.

There were a few moments as he vanished, presumably into the kitchen, and Amanda tried to figure out how much she could say. He knew, or had remembered, that it had been a vampire killing her that had ended their previous relationship. How much did he know, how much could she tell him? He came back, and she gratefully accepted the warm cup.

"I'm never going to look older." She sipped at the tea, feeling the warmth of the liquid and of the Scotch that he'd added to it. "I'm a bit different than other women that you might have met."

"How? You aren't a vampire, or you wouldn't have been able to enter the apartment." He looked thoughtful, and winced. "Are you human?"

Amanda felt herself shiver at his question, and tried to cover by sipping again from her cup. "We seem to be. There's only a few differences, and only one's ever apparent before our first death. Immortals... we can't have children."

"Your first death?" He looked curious and a bit disturbed. "That sounds... You were already what you are before we met?"

Amanda nodded, and took another sip. "It's something that most try to keep a secret. We're different, and different isn't always a safe thing."

"You said 'we', which implies that you aren't the only one like yourself. Immortals? That sounds almost familiar..." He shook his head, and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Perhaps you could explain a bit more?"

"We seem perfectly normal until our first death. It can be anything, illness, injury, drowning... And then you wake up, and it doesn't make sense, and if you're lucky, there's someone nearby who can explain instead of just killing you. After the first death, we never get older. We don't get sick as easily, but I still had a miserable cold last month. We heal a bit faster, and can recover from broken necks." Amanda shuddered, her hand touching the place where her neck met her shoulder. "And from vampire bites."

"Perfectly normal... Does that mean that there's no set pattern for an Immortal? No particular distinguishing features?" He looked like he was trying to gather information as a way to keep from thinking over the emotional impact.

"An Immortal could be anyone. Men or women, and sometimes the person's first death is when they're still a child..." Amanda blinked back tears as she remembered Kenny, and spoke no more about that. "I've encountered Immortals from all over Europe, from Asia and Africa, and some born here in America. Some other Immortals that I've met encountered some who were Native Americans. Apparently, we occur across all ethnic and sexual distributions. Randomly."

"So there would be considerable variation in motivations and behaviors." He nodded as if to himself, and looked up. "Just like any other people."

"Precisely." Amanda tried to smile, uncertain how natural the expression would look. "It's quite the coincidence that this was your apartment that I dove into."

"Which reminds me... Why did you leap into my home?" He asked, one eyebrow lifting just a little.

"Vampires." She sighed, and shifted her weight, feeling the shape of the necklace still in her pocket. "I didn't want them to catch me. I'd probably have either survived or woke up again later, but I don't like pain."

Rupert nodded, and sighed. "Pain has never been something that I enjoyed either, though I've become quite well acquainted. Would it be rude to ask how old you... Yes, that would be rude. Had you been Immortal for a considerable time before we met?"

Amanda smiled, slightly amused by his curiosity warring with manners. "Yes, I have been. I won't say what they are, but my age is in three digits. Now, why are you taking this so calmly?"

"This is far from the first time that I've encountered things that most people don't want to believe in. In your years, have you heard mention of someone called the Slayer?" His expression made it clear that he didn't think a blunt answer would work, and he'd have to work his way to it.

Amanda nodded, now feeling rather curious. "Oh yes, but never with much detail. Something about a woman hunting vampires and demons with a particularly nice sword. I thought maybe she was a particularly brave Immortal, but I've been assured otherwise. I just don't know what she is then."

"I can clear that up. There is always a Slayer, so it's actually a series of girls and women." He smiled, and put down the tea. "There's a group of people, scholars and warriors, who call themselves Watchers. It is the duty of the Watchers to locate and train girls who have the potential to become Slayers, so that if they are Called, they are ready to fight against the vampires and demons. Against the forces of darkness."

"Watchers?" Amanda blinked, wondering if there was a connection between these Slayer-Watchers and the Council of Watchers that followed Immortals. "How do they know who might become a Slayer?"

"Honestly, I'm a bit unclear on that. I focused more on the fighting and demon identification aspects." He shook his head. "Actually, that was partly a reaction to your death."

"I'm sorry." Amanda blinked, shaking her head as she realized that she'd just apologized for getting killed. "I never meant to hurt you."

"I never blamed you. It was the vampire who killed you, and we did manage to hunt him down and kill him for it." He reached over, hand hovering for a moment over a pair of wire framed glasses before instead lifting the teacup again. "When one Slayer dies, another is Chosen. By some mystical force that I don't think anybody has identified, if you're curious."

"So they've sent you away from England to California, because there might be some girl who has a chance for a terrible destiny when someone else dies?" Amanda blinked, remembering the handful of demons and the vampires that she'd encountered. "Those things are horrible."

"Rather." He shuddered, his eyes darkening with what had to be his own unpleasant memories. "Some Watchers try to take out what demons and vampires they can, even if they don't have a Slayer. Of course, I always thought part of the reason I was sent so far away was because Quentin ended up in charge, and we never did get along."

"Quentin? You can't possibly mean Quentin Travers? That rules-bound inept idiot?" Amanda sputtered.

Rupert just nodded. "I don't visit home very often."

"It's always hard to stay away from home, even when things have changed so much." She sighed, and swirled the liquid in her cup slightly. "London was my home too."

"So, neither of us can be home for the holidays." He put his cup down, and looked at her, with a small smile. "Perhaps we can spend them together? We never got the chance, before."

"I think I'd enjoy that." Amanda leaned back in the chair, her feet curling under her. "Of course, if I recall correctly, most of these apartments only have one bedroom."

He blinked, and looked a little flustered, almost awkward. "That is true. I only have one bedroom, though there is a queen sized bed in it."

"That should be plenty of room for both of us." Amanda purred, smiling at her old lover. "Besides, you might have picked up a few new tricks over the last few years. And if not, maybe I could show you a few."

His smile was pure Ripper as he invited, "Well, why don't we get you settled in for a while then?"

end Friends Who are Dear to Us.