Zeppless: 2003--The Departure
by melodrome
2003

“So… I guess you’re off,” Willow said sadly.

“What are you talking about? You’re off, too,” Xander grinned. He, too, was sad about this occasion, but he was happy for all of them. Except Buffy. She seemed far too into this “Immortal” character. But he wouldn’t ever say so.

“I guess, but… it’s not the same kind of off. You’re going to Africa. That’s just so… I mean, it’s great; you know how happy I am for you, but… we’ve lived in the same town all our lives, you and I, and…” her voice trailed into tears. Xander felt his one remaining eye tearing up as well.

“Oh, Will,” he said affectionately, pulling her into a hug. Buffy and Dawn busied themselves with talking to Giles about his big plans once he returned to Britain for the final time, not wanting to be involved in a moment between lifelong friends.

“You… you write to me, okay? All the time. I want a weekly letter from African Xander.”

“As frequently as the post goes, a letter to you will be among it. Unless it goes every day. I think that would be just a little excessive. And you write me, too! All of you,” he amended, turning to the others. “I want to hear all about Europe and Asia and South America and every continent I’m not in. I mean, you can probably tell me about that continent, too, if you want to, but I think I’ll get the picture.”

Dawn whined in the back of her throat and threw her arms around Xander. He smiled and hugged her back. “You keep me posted on Buffy and this Immortal guy, okay?” he whispered in her ear. She laughed through her tears, though she knew he wasn’t joking.

“You take care, okay? No crazy Africa diseases for you. Stay away from the mosquitos, I hear they have the West Nile gene. And, and don’t take candy from strangers,” Dawn advised strangely. Mostly she wanted to keep talking to see if everyone would stay. Or… no. She wasn’t staying either. None of them were. But she wanted everyone to come to Rome.

Kennedy came back from the muffin shop she’d spotted on their way into the airport. Willow found it endlessly amusing that Kennedy liked muffins so much. She didn’t ask why. She figured it was one of those things she probably would either find out about eventually, or didn’t want to know about in the first place. “Our flight’s leaving in twenty minutes, babe. We’d better get to the gate.”

Willow nodded. She smiled like the brave little toaster she’d always been and oofed enthusiastically as the again crying Dawn attacked her. “And you! No Brazilian curses. Beware of flying soccer balls, and, and, look both ways before you cross the street. I hear pedestrians have no right of way there.”

Willow grinned. “We’ll stay in touch, Dawnie. I promise. We won’t even have to write each other because we’ll talk so often.”

“Promise?”

“Of course, sweetie.” Willow blinked hard as Dawn went off to attack Giles. Buffy smiled tiredly at Willow and Xander as they all stood around.

“I can’t believe…” Buffy started. She didn’t have to say anything more, which was fortunate, because she found she couldn’t. They remembered the first time Buffy met them; Xander’s first line to Buffy being, “can I have you?” and finding a stake in her bag; Willow’s unbelievably different geekiness and how adorable it seemed in retrospect. Seven years later, and they’d all be in different continents within a few hours. It seemed so monumental. Buffy shook her head eventually and managed to hug both Xander and Willow at once. There they remained for a while, until a pointed clearing of the throat from Kennedy reminded Willow that they had basically no time.

Willow hugged Giles, and then Xander again. She was crying profusely by the time Kennedy managed to pull her away. Everyone cried back at her, especially Andrew when he scurried up moments later and yelled to her retreating back that she was truly an inspiration to all of them.

“Damn,” Buffy whispered to Xander. “I was so wishing he’d get lost in the airport somewhere.”

Soon the flight to Rome was leaving; a similar tearful goodbye, especially from Giles, followed Buffy and Dawn (and Andrew, who said something to Xander in Clingon before he left. Xander had pretended not to understand a word, but he knew Andrew said something about Superman. Yes, Superman in Clingon. Xander was disgusted with himself for getting the gist). Suddenly it was just Xander and Giles.

Giles looked old. Xander knew he considered retirement, but finally decided that renewing the council would be the best course of action for himself and the Slayers now worldwide. He may have only been in his early fifties, but he’d had a full life. Xander knew more about Giles than even Buffy did. From his rebellious early twenties to his calm and settled thirties, Xander fancied himself somewhat an expert on Giles’ life.

Just after Anya had died, Giles had sat down with Xander in the bus. He didn’t say anything for a long while; it seemed he was contemplating whether or not to indeed say anything. Finally, he took a deep breath and began: “I have loved two women in my entire life. One of them was Jenny. The other, I don’t believe I’ve ever mentioned to… any of you.

“Her name was Morgan. She was… gorgeous, to say the least, but that didn’t begin to explain the kind of person she was. We met at the Watcher’s council. We hit it off immediately and married only a year after we’d met.

“She… I… we… uh. We lived three glorious years together. One day she told me she was pregnant. With twins, no less. A week later she was… killed. On the job. By a vampire.”

“Giles,” Xander had whispered. He hadn’t known what to say.

“I buried her, finished my training, and came to Sunnydale. Jenny reminded me of her in some ways. They were both incredibly full of life. They were both…

“What I mean to say, Xander, is that I understand your heartbreak. You’re not going to get over it. Not tomorrow, not a year from now, not twenty. You’ll always mourn for Anya because you loved her as you did.

“You had a monumental impact on her life, Xander. You made her human. You made her a kind and compassionate person. She died saving a life. Take your time; mourn as you will. It will get easier, but eventually it stops becoming easier and becomes something you have to live with. You’ll someday fall in love again. But she’ll likely remind you of Anya. And that’s why you’ll love her so.”

Something had changed between Xander and Giles that day. Xander had stopped making jokes when Giles was around because he no longer felt the need to. They understood each other now. Giles would never ask how Xander was, and he would be the only one who wouldn’t. Xander felt comfortable in Giles’ presence.

But now, Giles asked. “How are you, Xander?”

“I’m okay.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah. I am.”

Giles believed him, and felt a sort of pride. “Good.”

In hindsight, that was when Xander realized that Giles knew what was going to happen.

An announcement over the P. A. mentioned that the flight to South Africa was leaving. Xander smiled unconsciously. Part of him wanted Anya with him on the plane, but he’d also chosen the one place he knew she’d hate. It was time for a drastic change. He sighed and turned to Giles.

“So this is it.”

“So it is.” They hugged (as manly men might) and Xander grabbed his luggage. Even then Xander felt something nagging at the back of his mind. He opened his mouth to say something, closed it again, and tried once more.

“Take care, okay? I mean… that’s been going around today, but I really mean it. Take care.”

Giles smiled. “To you as well, Xander. Africa can be… treacherous, at the best of times. Keep in touch with Willow if no one else. I imagine she’ll come and find you if you don’t.”

Xander grinned. “That’s my Will. Thanks, Giles,” he said sincerely.

“What for?” Giles asked, mystified.

“‘What for?’ he asks!” Xander proclaimed. “For teaching me what’s what. How to fight demons, both in the flesh and in the mind. For being a proper parent, not only to Buffy, but to all of us.”

Giles didn’t say anything. Xander smiled. “And really—take care.” With that, he turned and walked toward the plane. Giles stood there for a while, and then turned and walked away.

*

2010

“Good morning, mumblemumble Xander.”

He whipped around with fear and anger in his eyes. “What did you say?”

She recoiled ever so slightly. There was something in those eyes Yvette loved and hated. This was a hate moment. “I just greeted you good morning.”

“But… what did you call me?”

“Alexander?”

“Alexander. With the prefix.”

“…Don’t you mean the suffix?”

“Nevermind.” He stalked through the site and ignored his secretary’s stammers that there had been calls for him. He slammed the door in his face and sat down heavily at his desk, face in his hands.

After his two years in Africa, he’d gone to University. Last year he graduated with a degree in business. Carpentry had seemed dull to him, especially as time wound down. Moving out of Sunnydale changed him. Going to Africa changed him. Coming back changed him. Their reunion changed him. Losing everything changed him. Now he had no friends, no family… nothing, really, but a secretary that mooned after him, a dispassionate passion for the fight, and a soul that dissolved a little more with each passing day.

At least he was successful.

At least his heart was still beating.

“Alex?”

He sat up straight. “Yes, Yvette.”

“I… I have some messages for you… but I figured you’d rather I put them aside once I received this.” She held up an envelope.

“What’s in it?”

“It’s a letter.”

“From whom, Yvette?”

“I… you told me never to pry into your past, but…”

“Dispose of it.”

“What?”

“I don’t care what you do with it. Rip it up, put in through the shredder, set it on fire… I do not care. Don’t read it, just destroy it.”

Yvette opened her mouth to argue, but she noticed that Alex wouldn’t look her in the eye. She’d asked him about his life once, and she’d learned never to do it again. Sullenly, she agreed to destroy it and backed out of the room.

She made sure he was busy with moping before pulling out her key and opening the tiny top drawer in her desk. She placed the letter delicately inside and covered it with other Sunnydale mail he’d received and she’d never mentioned. She figured he’d want to look at them someday. Someday when it was less painful, whatever it was.

She shut the drawer and returned to her work, wondering dully who this Summers must have been.

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