RENEE

By: Tezza1502

Disclaimer: 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer, BtVS: Season Eight', it's characters or it's stories do not in any way belong to me, nor do I seek or am I making any monetary profit from this fanfiction. It is Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, the WB, Dark Horse Comics, plus various other people and business entities. I also don't own any of the other copywrited series' mentioned in this fic. So there.

Notes: This is a little outside my usual genre. Anime is more my normal forte, along with the odd side trip into Harry Potter. Plus, it's somewhat more experimental than my other stuff. And about ninety percent of it is in the First Person Perspective. So if that annoys you, it's best if you turn back now.

Set after Issue 15 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Season Eight. So if you haven't read the comic, this will make absolutely no sense whatsoever. Be prepared, it gets kinda sad.

CHAPTER 2

The first time I ever saw Xander Harris, I was not that impressed to be honest.

Mind you, seeing as our introduction came at the end of the mother of all long-haul flights from the good ole US of A to the land of drizzle and fog, I guess I could put it down to feeling a bit bitchy from jet-lag.

Anyway…

Willow (a Wicca) and Kennedy (an older slayer) had been escorting myself and a few other newbie slayers from the states, so we were all a bit excited to be travelling overseas for the first time. Mind you, some of us had already been introduced to the flipside of our new powers, so a bit of safe excitement was a good thing.

Landing at Heathrow, slogging our way through the nightmare that was customs, then transferring to yet another flight north, finally knocked the last of the 'new things' buzz out of us.

When we finally walked off a plane for the last time, we girls found ourselves wondering what sort of welcoming committee would be awaiting us. I mean, we were the new blood, so to speak. The next generation of defenders. Sure, we hadn't been in Sunnydale when it imploded after the fight with The First. But damnit, some of us had managed to survive the various attempts by the Bringers to knock us off before that! At the very least I think myself and the rest of the newbies had been expecting to be met by someone high up or important in the New Slayers Council we had been told about.

Instead, we were met by an older guy wearing faded jeans, scruffy work boots, and possibly the most offensive-to-the-eye Hawaiian shirt I have ever had the misfortune to lay my eyes upon. For the few seconds I could bring myself to look at it, I had noticed that it seemed to be made up of various shades of yellows, reds, oranges, greens and blues. Why it hadn't spontaneously combusted within ten seconds of being made, I'll never know.

While I and the rest of the newbies had been attempting to repress the memory of that horror, Willow, who in all the time she had been with us had spoken with a low, calming voice and was the epitome of serenity, let out this almighty squeal and sprinted for this guy. At first I thought she was going to try and vanquish his shirt for crimes against humanity and taste. But all she did was throw herself into his arms and let him spin her around a few times while Kennedy muttered something about this happening ever time those two didn't see each other for more than a couple of weeks. Which was kinda confusing, since Kennedy and Willow had made a point of letting us know that they were a couple.

When the rest of us caught up, Willow was speaking faster than even a slayer could follow while poking his shirt. I think she was dissing him about wearing it in a public place, while he was vigorously defending his choice of attire. Something about making it easier to spot him during a pea-soup fog, I think.

And so, Alexander Harris, (or 'Just Xander. Please!') was formally introduced to us while we all tried not to stare too much at his eye patch. The guy was either ultra perceptive, or we were less subtle than we thought, because he picked up on our morbid curiosity immediately and made a joke about why you shouldn't drink tea without taking the spoon out of the cup first.

It was lame, but it got us laughing enough that we were no longer awkward about being sprung staring, while Willow chided him gently for making light about his injury. Kennedy got a weird look on her face as all this was going on, but it wasn't until much later that I found out the reason why.

Oh yeah, we got told the skinny on these two as well. Apparently, Willow and Xander were best friends from back in the day. Further, even. It's kinda weird to think that Buffy Summers, The Slayer, had to work at joining their group, and not the other way around.

The drive back to what would become our new home for the foreseeable future was surprisingly short. Xander kept up a steady stream of current gossip, a quick rundown on what to expect when we walk through the front door, and some truly horrible puns. In between, he and Willow kept falling into this strange sort of verbal shorthand every so often, where they'd only say a few words, and the other one would either finish the sentence or start another one without missing a beat. Honestly, it was like watching twins talk.

In due time, we arrived at what was to be our home for the foreseeable future. An honest to god castle, out in the middle of nowhere. It looked like something out of a fairytale, or a Harry Potter movie. Apparently, there are castles like this all over England. Most of them look even cooler than this one, so I'm told. But hey, it was the first one this chick from America had ever laid eyes on, so sue me for being a little overawed. Heck, the rest of the newbies were just as impressed, even the ones trying to act tough.

So we scrambled out of the bus to get a better look, completely ignoring whatever the others were saying behind us. However, a name was called out that quickly got our attention.

"Hey, Buffster! Come down from your lofty perch to inspect the new recruits?"

We spun around to find ourselves being given the once over by a strangely familiar blonde. It was very weird. Since being called, I'd been having dreams about her. (And not like that, either!) Well, not just her, but a whole lot of stuff. I'd thought that I'd been going crazy at first. Then the Bringers had shown up on my parent's doorstep.

Seeing as how I'd had a few dreams about them as well, not to mention that they had tried to kill me and mine, I figured that there must be something more going on. When Willow and Kennedy had tracked me down, a couple of weeks later, I got my reason. And had immediately wished I hadn't.

They told me about the whole Slayer deal. About how they had activated every potential on the planet, all to stop something called The First. And that ever since that happened, those two had been frantically criss-crossing the globe, trying to find the new slayers. Apparently, what had happened to me was not an isolated case. The Bringers had not given up taking out slayers after the First had been stopped, so they (the good guys) were gathering them all in one place. To train us up and help us adapt to our new circumstances. Then, if we wanted to, we could join them in the fight against evil, blah blah blah yadda yadda yadda.

Honestly, I couldn't really give a rats, back then. All I wanted to do was get a handle on these new powers of mine, then head back home. The fact that I got to travel to a different country for free was a bonus.

Short.

That was my first impression of the famous Buffy Summers. And I mean really, who inflicts a name like 'Buffy' on a girl. Then again, considering that she was from California…

The next thing I noticed about her were her eyes. They kinda reminded me of the look my dad got there sometimes, when he returns from one of his overseas tours with the army. They were eyes that have seen way too much of the nastier things that walk the earth.

"Yo, Buffmeister! Snap out of it." The loud shirt said as it got in between us and her.

"GAAH!" The look vanished. In it's place was a horrified expression as she threw her arms in front of her face and made warding signs with them. "Damnit Xander! What have I told you about wearing that horrible thing in public?" She shrieked.

"Uh, that it makes me look very manly, and shows that I am completely comfortable with who I am as a person?" He ventured.

"No. That the next time I caught you wearing it, I would use you as my warm-up dummy before I train with the SiT's." She growled, taking a step forward.

Despite shrinking a little and beginning to sweat, the guy gamely tried to talk his way out of it. "Wow. You really want to get all hot and sweaty with me on the mats, Buffy?" Before she could retort, Xander had spun around and called out to Willow. "Hah! Pay up, Wills. I told you she couldn't resist me forever." He crowed while holding his hand out.

Honestly, watching the expressions fly across The Slayer's face right then was the funniest thing I had seen in ages. She looked shocked, flattered, infuriated, chuffed, flabbergasted and exasperated all at the same time. Finally, she seemed to settle with annoyed as she stepped up behind him and smacked him across the back of the head. "Honestly!" Leaving it at that, and ignoring his complaints about hitting him with slayer-strength, she shook her head and came over to us.

The guy's dress sense may totally suck, but I had to give him his due. He'd managed to avoid what seemed to be a guaranteed lesson in pain from the world's oldest Slayer with only a slap to the head.

Interesting…

Buffy presented a talk to us about what to expect here. It was kinda the same as the one Xander gave us on the way here, but a bit more boring and rehearsed. Not that any of us were game to say so to her face.

(We found out later that any of the SiT's cheeky enough to mention that fact usually ended up 'helping' her demonstrate offensive techniques for a couple of days, or until someone else made the same mistake.)

After that, a creepy little troll-geek called Andrew appeared out of nowhere and led us away, spouting off sci-fi monologues the whole time as a way of trying to turn the slayer biz into a showbiz metaphor. Creepy!

Seeing as it was getting dark, we were led to the dining hall first and introduced around. At the time I think there were about three hundred Slayers in residence, so we saw a lot of faces and heard a lot of names. And promptly forgot them all.

It was a buffet-style, serve yourself deal, so our little group of newbies gawked shamelessly while we got our food and retreated to our designated table. Willow and Kennedy made an appearance soon after we started eating, as did that Xander guy. Thankfully, he had changed out of his eyesore into a tee-shirt. Though maybe what he changed into wasn't such an improvement.

Being a bit of a Monty Python fan on my dad's side, I recognised the Black Knight missing his arms and legs on his shirt straight away. What got me laughing was the quote underneath:- "'Tis but a scratch."

Combined with the eye patch, I couldn't help myself. I knew it wasn't funny to lose an eye. But seeing him with that shirt on, grinning as he saw my reaction. I just couldn't stop myself, no matter what I tried. And when the other slayers frowned at me, I only got worse.

"Yessss!" He pumped a fist in the air. "Another Monty Python fan. Welcome, sister." He shouted gleefully, pointing in my direction before turning to Willow. "You gonna hang around for the next movie night, Wills? She makes eight of the slayerettes that won't roll their eyes at me when I put my faves in." He asked, pointing back at me.

"Um, sorry Xander. Kennedy and I will be heading out first thing tomorrow morning." Willow looked uncomfortable as she said that.

"Aww. But-" Xander looked like someone had just smacked him across the back of the head again. His eyes flicked from her to Buffy for a second. "Not even a couple of days this time?"

"Sorry Xand, but there's more potentials out there. And I'm the only one who can find them." She shrugged helplessly.

Xander seemed to slump a bit, before straightening up and jumping back into the conversation. I noticed that both Willow and Buffy seemed a little worried that he had shrugged away his disappointment so easily, but I dismissed it and started eating the first real meal I'd had since leaving the states. Honestly, I didn't know the guy, and it really wasn't my problem.

The next few weeks was a bit of a blur for us newbies. Getting settled, learning the ropes of our new home, discovering our respective slayer powers and skill levels, working out training schedules, finding out any other life skills we possessed that could be used in 'The Cause'.

It seems like I lucked out a bit there. My dad is an Army Ranger, and has been since before I was born. So I had a slight head start when it came to fighting skills. Plus, both he and my mom had never seen a distinction between me wanting to know how to do stuff, and my brothers. So I had a couple of other things up my sleeve.

But the thing that put me on the map at Slayer-central was the fact that I was more than a little familiar with computers and data entry. And I could type at 140 words a minute. It used to be about 100 words a minute, before.

Heh, slayer-enhanced skills. Sometimes they rock.

So, pretty early on I was drafted into working in their Operations Centre. Getting up to speed was a cinch. Patrolling was harder.

I mean, going out into the night with the express purpose of killing something was seriously mind-bending. It's so different from what we consider normal that it takes a few patrols to start to get your head around the idea. Some of us take to it better than others. For me, quite a few phone calls home to my dad were needed before I began to come around.

But, the other Slayers were good about it. They had all been through the same thing, so no-one really put us down about being a little reluctant. Any question we asked, no matter how ridiculous, was answered. And we soon figured out where to get the best answers from.

Hint: NOT Andrew Wells!!

In fact, it turned out that if we needed something explained in such a way that it wouldn't immediately fly high over our heads, Xander 'patron saint of loud shirts' Harris was your man. And not just answers. Pretty much anything we slayers needed. If he couldn't build it, repair it, find it, or fix it, he knew someone or something that could. At a reasonable price too.

Some newbies had wondered why he was there. Sure he was good for an answer, and he wasn't bad eye-candy either. But he had no paranormal abilities, or anything. He just wandered around fixing things here and there. Occasionally he attended a meeting with the big guns. But mostly he seemed to not really have a purpose for being there, other than as a handyman.

Their mistake was wondering this aloud near certain people. Namely Buffy, Willow, Giles, or any of the slayers that had been present before Sunnydale had gone bye-bye.

To this day I thank my lucky stars that I had kept my own questions on the subject quietly to myself. Ouch!

Yet, even after the odd ear-bashing any SiT got when they were silly enough to ask about that, (and it happened regularly after any new batch showed up, it seems.) my personal doubts weren't erased until my first time in the Op-Centre during a mission while he was in charge.

Damn!

Gone was the goofy joker with the cute lopsided grin. In his place was a controlled commander who had both the trust of and the trust in his charges.

He always had your back. He always had a plan for getting the field teams either into or out of trouble. When he asked one of the slayers to do something, they did it. No questions asked. Heck, the only ones who ever dared talk back to him during an operation were the Original Two, Buffy and Faith. Even then they usually ended up following his suggestions. With considerable bad grace, to be sure, but they did. I mean, he still joked and punned. But there was an underlying edge you could hear in his voice. One that said he knew what we were going through out there in the field, because he had been there himself, with a heck of a lot less backup than what we had available.

Only once did I ever see him lose his cool because someone wasn't following orders. The way he spoke then still gives me chills when I think about it. And I heard later that the slayer in question damn near wet herself when he dressed her down later, in private. He could be that scary when he wanted to be.

So yeah, any doubts a newbie had about whether he should be a part of the slayage or not vanished soon after their first time on a mission with him in command. Especially when he saved their lives because of it. Because no-one died on his watch. Not if he could help it. And if something did happen to a slayer on a mission, by God you could see the pain he went through because of it. He would do anything for us. Whatever it took to help us get a handle on our new destinies, and allow us to live as long a life as possible.

It was reassuring. And damn sexy, in a way.

In fact, I soon noticed that most of the girls that weren't batting for the other team had huge crushes on him. It seemed to wax and wane, but at any one time at least a dozen of my sister slayers were nursing romantic (or just plain sweaty) feelings for him.

Which made it all the more confusing when he never took up any of the offers sent his way. And there were some tempting ones. Heck, I'm as straight as they come, and I was panting after seeing some of those girls strut their stuff for him.

For a guy it would have been like shooting fish in a barrel. Several hundred young, hot, horny women in a secluded castle in the middle of nowhere, and just three males.

One was Rupert Giles. So unless you had a daddy-kink thing going, he was out.

Another was Andrew Wells. 'Nuff said.

So really, it would be perfectly understandable. Plus, it doesn't hurt that he's in possession of the tightest buns in the northern hemisphere. At all. Really.

But, he never took any of them up on their offers.

There were various rumours floating around as to why. Most of them containing the idea that he might be gay.

It wasn't until I did a long mission with Faith that I discovered a reason. Possibly the reason.