Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sasha knew that something was wrong the second Jon called them all in for a “team meeting”. Jon hated team meetings. And teams. And counting on his assistants to be responsible for things.

Her surprise increased exponentially when she realised what the meeting was about. Unless her ears deceived her, Jon was implying that some of the statements he’d received were probably true. She shot a sideways glance in Tim’s direction, and was glad to see he looked about as shocked as he felt.

“Now, I’m aware that as a rule, I try to treat the statements we receive with a due amount of scepticism,” said Jon, as if preempting the inevitable remarks from his assistants, “But with these statements in particular -” He gestured at the pile of statements he’d laid on the desk in front of him, “I can’t help but think that there’s something more going on here.”

Tim leaned forward and looked at the stack of papers suspiciously, “And what’s so special about these exactly? I mean, unless I’m really missing something they don’t seem to be summoning demons or bursting into flames on sight or anything?”

“I was obviously referring to the content of the statements, Tim,” Jon rolled his eyes, “I won’t bore you with all the details, but essentially there are some very clear connections between these statements that I believe we shouldn’t ignore. Especially after the experiences Sasha and Martin have had recently…”

Martin squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, suddenly acutely aware that all eyes in the room were on him. That would have been bad enough in itself, but the fact that two of those eyes belonged to Elias really pushed it into unbearable territory.

Jon coughed awkwardly. “Anyway, my point is that as sceptical as I am, I’m beginning to accept that we need to take these supernatural threats more seriously, and statements like these in particular will require further investigation -”

“Forgive me for interrupting,” interrupted Elias, “But you still haven’t explained what, exactly, it is in these statements that bears investigating.”

Tim snorted at that, only to be shut up by Sasha “discreetly” elbowing him in the ribs.

“Ah, yes, yes, of course,” stammered Jon, “On the surface, all these statements deal with very different incidents. A lot of them were similar in content to other statements we’ve received: There were a few that I suspect may have involved some of Leitner’s books. Some others bore more than a passing resemblance than your experience, Sasha, which I find particularly interesting. There are even a couple of statements describing encounters with vampires, though they admittedly describe them very differently to Trevor Herbert’s statement… Anyway, in all these statements, there was one name that kept coming up: a small town in southern California called Sunnydale!”

Clearly getting into the swing of his explanation, he gestured to the stack of statements, “All these statement-givers were connected to Sunnydale in some way; either they’d recently visited the town or they knew someone who had visited or lived there or they’d obtained an item from there that turned out to have supernatural properties, but Sunnydale was always mentioned and in almost all of them it’s directly connected to the statement-giver’s paranormal experience. Even if some of these statements are fabricated, the sheer number of statements connected to the town seems to indicate something...peculiar is happening.”

“Hm, that is suspicious!” Sasha nodded.

“My proposal, if all of you agree to it, is something of a...a team expedition. The four of us will travel to America and conduct an investigation into what, if anything, is going on in Sunnydale. And who knows, perhaps it will even illuminate some more of what we’ve been dealing with here!”

Tim grinned and leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. “Well, gee, I’m certainly all in favour of a presumably-all-expenses-paid-by-the-Institute holiday to America, but California? That sounds a little outside our jurisdiction, boss.”

“Surprisingly you’re not wrong, Tim,” said Jon, in a tone that indicated he wasn’t particularly thrilled about agreeing with him, “When I first realised there was something suspicious about Sunnydale, I actually contacted the Usher Foundation about it. I assumed they’d either want to conduct the investigation themselves or they’d already know about it, but instead they seemed.... Well, if I were more prone to conspiracy I’d say they didn’t want anyone asking too many questions about it,” he chuckled softly at the absurdity of that. “Anyway, point is, they apparently have no plans to investigate Sunnydale and I think we ought to take the matter into our own hands.”

The three assistants all looked at each other, as if trying to come to some kind of telepathic decision. However, in the end it was Elias who made the decision for them.

“I appreciate your concerns, Archivist,” he began, “But as head of the Institute I feel that your services would be far more useful here, concentrating on your archival duties instead of running off on wild goose chases in California. Besides, if our friends at the Usher Foundation don’t consider it worth investigating, I’m sure we can trust their judgement.” His lips curled upwards in a smug smile.

That seemed to be that. Jon mumbled something about how they were all dismissed while he theatrically reorganised his statements, and everyone else awkwardly dispersed.

____________________

A couple of hours later, Sasha found herself knocking awkwardly on Jon’s office door. “Hey, boss…?” she said, tentatively.

“What is it?” he snapped. Sasha rolled her eyes; it’s not like she’d been expecting Jon to be in a good mood, but she didn’t see why he had to take his annoyance out on her when it was so obviously Elias he was actually annoyed with, even if he didn’t want to risk his job by saying it. And while I’m on the subject, Sasha began mentally ranting to herself, frankly I have much more legitimate complaints against Elias than Jon does and just because he’s my friend doesn’t mean his complaining isn’t really getting on my nerves now.

“Listen, Jon,” she said, matter-of-factly, as she entered the office, “I’m sorry that Elias shot down your idea like that, but there’s no use sitting around in here moping about it, is there?”

“I’m not moping!”

“You’re sitting in your office not talking to anyone and glaring at your pile of statements. What do you call that if not moping?”

“....My typical work day?”

Sasha found she couldn’t really argue with that.

“Anyway, it’s not like there’s any point in complaining about it, is there?” Jon huffed, “I came up with a frankly stupid idea and Elias vetoed it. These things happen.” He glared at what was presumably intended to be the world in general, but ended up being Sasha.

“Hey, don’t look at me,” she shrugged, awkwardly fiddling with the slightly dejected pot plant in the corner, “I thought your idea was a pretty solid one, all things considered. It’s about time we started doing more actual investigation around here. I’m pretty sure only Elias would actually object to it.”

She turned round again to see Jon with an adorably hopeful look on his face.

“Really?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

“Yeah,” said Sasha, “I mean, you heard Tim; he was all over the idea of a visit to America. And Martin....well, that boy would agree to pretty much anything you suggested. Even I, the designated Responsible Adult of this office, think that investigating these statements further would be a good idea, so you know it must be pretty good.”

She turned to leave, but threw one last comment over her shoulder as she did so. “Frankly, Jon, we’re just your assistants, you’re the Archivist. If you can’t stand up to Elias, that’s your problem, not mine or Tim’s or Martin’s.”

Jon opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, trying to protest the clear implication that he was too scared to stand up to Elias. Unfortunately, he was unable to get the words out before the door swung closed behind Sasha, so he settled for quietly seething instead.

Him? Jonathan Sims? Unable to stand up to Elias? That was ridiculous - he’d stood up to that creep plenty of times! Like that time when Elias… Or when he’d…

The stack of “Sunnydale statements”, as he’d nicknamed them, continued to sit quietly on his desk. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were mocking them somehow. God, maybe Tim was right, maybe they did have some kind of supernatural properties…

Shooting one of his finest glares at the statements, Jon slowly pulled his phone out of his pocket. He looked around cautiously, making sure that his sneaking suspicion that Elias was watching him was just paranoia, and started discreetly typing out a message.

Meet me at Heathrow Airport at noon on Saturday. Flight’s on me. Pack things to last you two weeks or so. We’re going to California.

Happy with the message, he added Sasha, Tim, and Martin’s numbers as recipients, and, with a satisfied nod, hit “send”. Then, he tucked the stack of statements under his arm and began packing up for the evening.

____________________

Walking to Pimlico station, coat pulled tight against the wind and rain, Sasha checked the message on her phone and grinned.

Chapter Text

Foolish as it might seem, somewhere in his mind Jon had actually entertained the idea that his act of rebellion against Elias would bring him the respect of his colleagues. Instead, his simple text had primarily resulted in mass confusion from his assistants over what exactly “things for two weeks or so” meant, and relentless bullying from Tim over him being 28 years old and unironically using the word “noon”. Jon had half-heartedly protested at this, but he was aware that none of the assistants had ever really fallen for his insistence that he was nearly 40.

Still, at least it seemed that Elias hadn’t caught word of their little mutiny, which could only be a good thing.

The plan was to catch a plane from Heathrow to Washington D.C, where they’d hopefully be able to meet with the Usher Foundation and discuss the situation in Sunnydale. With the amount of paranormal occurrences that apparently happened there, Jon assumed the Usher Foundation had to have some information about it. After that, they planned to stay in Washington overnight and catch a plane to Sunnydale Airport the next morning.

The four of them met at Heathrow, Jon hoping he didn’t look as shifty as he felt. It was ridiculous really, but he couldn’t help but be filled with anxiety over so blatantly disregarding Elias’ wishes. Martin also looked pretty anxious, which wasn’t exactly unusual, but Jon still felt sympathy for him. At least Tim and Sasha both looked as relaxed as ever, still laughing at each others’ bad jokes.

“I’m glad you all agreed to join me,” Jon said seriously, “I just want you to know if you’re having doubts about being part of this investigation, you don’t have to come. I’m aware this could prove to be dangerous, even without how angry Elias is probably going to be about this…”

“Have you told him about this?” Martin asked nervously.

“Well, no, I was kind of planning to send him an email about it once we’re in America and it’s too late for him to stop us.”

“Good thinking,” Sasha grinned, “And I can’t speak for the others, but I’m with you all the way! I mean, if the Usher Foundation won’t investigate this place, someone has to find out the truth!”

“And I’ve already made an eight hour America-themed playlist for the plane ride, so I can hardly back out now,” said Tim. Jon desperately hoped that he was joking.

Martin smiled shyly, “Wherever you guys go, I’m going too. Can’t get rid of me that easily!”

Despite his worries, Jon couldn’t help but feel a rush of fondness for his team. He was well aware that he wasn’t the most...likeable boss they could ask for. He was aware that he could be belligerent and overly-critical and a thousand other things, but despite that here they were. Ready to drop everything and follow him to another country on a hunch he had.

He turned in the direction of the check-in desk, motioning for the others to follow. “Well then, onwards to America, I suppose!”

_______________

They’d been in the air for about a minute when Jon started rapidly regretting his decision to sit directly in front of Tim. As it turned out, the “eight hour America-themed playlist” comment had in fact not been a joke. Not only that, but Tim insisted on giving his own rendition of certain songs, much to the chagrin of Jon and his fellow passengers and the inexplicable delight of Sasha and Martin.

Fortunately, Jon had a secret weapon: his beloved pair of noise-cancelling headphones. He’d purchased them years ago as a way of dealing with his chronic inability to concentrate in the presence of any kind of background noise. They proved fairly effective at blocking out Tim’s off-key singing, and soon enough Jon found himself drifting off to sleep, the exhaustion of organising the expedition and stress of keeping it secret from Elias finally overwhelming him.

_______________

“Psst! Martin!”

Martin craned his neck to see Tim and Sasha in the row behind.

“He asleep?” Tim gestured at Jon, who did indeed appear to be out cold. Just to be on the safe side, Martin gave him a quick poke in the shoulder. No response.

“Yeah, he’s asleep. Why?”

“I think Tim wants to take this opportunity to have a good old-fashioned bitching session,” Sasha laughed, “Please try to play nice Tim, I’m hoping to get through this trip without you and Jon killing each other.”

“This isn’t a bitching session, thanks Sasha, I just…” Tim trailed off, “Well, I don’t know, but he’s been weird lately. You guys have noticed right? I mean, I’m not saying he was ever the most well-adjusted guy, but ever since he got the Head Archivist job,” he shot a look at Sasha, “Which just to be clear, was a travesty -”

Sasha rolled her eyes at this but let Tim continue his rant.

“Ever since then,” Tim began, “He’s been all cranky and secretive and it’s like he never wants our help with anything - but now out of the blue he asks us all to come with him to investigate some kind of weird conspiracy in America! And just to be clear, I’d take this over filing statements any day, but coming from Jon? I dunno, it just feels wrong… Also I’m sorry, but seriously: what person under the age of 60 uses the word ‘noon’?”

Sasha shrugged, “Yeah, I guess I’ve been getting kind of a weird vibe from him lately, but be fair Tim, it’s gotta be pretty weird suddenly becoming boss to all your former co-workers because your old boss died unexpectedly. He’s probably just stressed. Also, I know you two never really talked to Gertrude, but she was pretty out there too. Maybe it’s just a Head Archivist thing?”

She said it seriously, but Tim noticed the twinkle in her eye and smiled despite himself. However, the smile quickly dropped as his thoughts turned back to the object of their conversation.

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, “That’s all well and good, but Jon’s our friend! Or at least he was, and now I swear it’s like he thinks he’s too good for us or something…” He turned to Martin, starting to look genuinely angry, “And don’t even get me started on how much of a bitch he’s been to you. I mean, come on, Martin, how come you always let him be so rude to you?”

“Tim…” Sasha muttered under her breath in a warning fashion.

“I - It’s not -” Martin stammered, “It’s not a big deal, Tim! And it’s like Sasha said, Jon’s under a lot of stress, you can’t blame him... He really doesn’t mean it, Tim!”

Tim snorted and shook his head, a little exasperated, “I just don’t know why you keep defending him so much! I mean, admit it Martin, you do kinda look at Jon through rose-coloured glasses.”

“Maybe a little,” Martin blushed. He looked like he might have been about to continue when Sasha interrupted:

“Come on Tim, get off his case a little,” she said, with a good-natured roll of her eyes. Martin breathed a sigh of relief for her intervention. “I mean, come on,” she continued, clasping her hands and batting her eyelashes theatrically in Martin’s direction, “Can’t you at least appreciate the beauty of young love?”

Oh. So maybe the feeling of relief had been a little preemptive.

“THERE’S NO YOUNG LOVE TO APPRECIATE!” Martin squawked, and immediately cringed as a number of their fellow passengers turned around to stare at him.

“Look,” he hissed so that only Tim and Sasha could hear, “Maybe I’ll grant you there’s a bit on my part, but it’s - it’s definitely not reciprocated.”

Sasha and Tim glanced at each other conspiratorially. “Have you...asked Jon about it?” Sasha asked cautiously.

“Oh god no!” Martin squeaked, “Like I’d - like I’d ask Jon out on a date! He’s my boss, for one thing! And he’s all committed to his job and stuff! Oh! And also! He’s told us he’s asexual, so he’s probably not interested anyway!”

Martin nodded to himself, clearly satisfied with his watertight reasoning. Unfortunately, neither Tim nor Sasha seemed to share this view, and instead launched into a new round of interrogation.

“Is that seriously your reason?” Tim demanded.

“Yeah, come on, Martin,” Sasha chuckled, “Just because he’s ace doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be interested. There are plenty of ace people who still want relationships.”

“I know that, but -”

“Frankly I think it’s disgraceful how stereotypical you’re being,” said Tim, slowly shaking his head in mock sorrow, “You should never make assumptions based on people’s sexualities, Martin.”

“Yeah, Martin.”

“Well, it’s not that big of an assumption!” Martin protested, “I mean, I read somewhere that ace people are more likely to be aromantic than any other orientation, so chances are Jon is too!”

“As….flawless as that reasoning is, you wouldn’t have to rely on statistics if you just talked to him,” Tim scrunched up his nose in exaggerated disapproval, “This all sounds like a big excuse to me, what do you think Sasha?”

“Oh, definitely, classic avoidance tactic.”

“Come on, Martin, live a little!”

“Yeah, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“God, I can’t believe the K in ‘Martin K. Blackwood’ stands for ‘Coward’.”

“Tim.”

“Sasha?”

“You’re just being mean now. Stop it.”

“Whatever,” said Tim, “I’m just saying: you can’t keep this drama up forever, Martin. At some point you’re gonna have to be honest with him.”

“Yeah, well,” Martin scowled, “As fun as this conversation has been, I’d really appreciate it if you’d stop...picking apart my love life for five seconds”. With a hmph he turned to face the window, shoulders hunched, bringing the conversation to an end.

_______________

The rest of the journey passed relatively smoothly. About halfway through Jon had been rudely awakened by a particularly tuneless duet rendition of “Kids in America” by Tim and Sasha, and had hissed at them to please keep it down because his noise-cancelling headphones could only do so much, but other than that it had been peaceful.

However, after staying awake for the whole eight hour flight, Sasha and Tim were both exhausted by the time they landed in Washington D.C. As such they were not happy about Jon’s insistence that their first step should be meeting with the Usher Foundation to discuss their investigation, instead of checking into a motel and collapsing into a decent bed.

“Honestly, you’re both being ridiculous,” Jon grumbled to them on the bus, “With the time zone difference it’s only five in the afternoon right now anyway. If you went to sleep now your circadian rhythm would be badly thrown off.”

“Ok, first of all,” said Sasha, who, in a flagrant disregard of public transport etiquette, had collapsed across two and a half seats, “I’m not taking criticism on my sleep schedule from a man who once pulled an all-nighter because he stayed working too late and got locked in the archives and decided he might as well take the opportunity to get ahead in recording old statements. Secondly, I hope you know if I’d remembered jet lag exists I would not have guilted you into standing up to Elias.”

Under normal circumstances, Jon would probably have protested that she didn’t “guilt” him into anything, she simply made some very reasonable points that convinced him to go through with the expedition plan, but it was blatantly obvious that Sasha wouldn’t appreciate him dragging her into a debate. Instead he just huffed and stared out of the window for the rest of the journey.

_______________

When they finally arrived at the Usher Foundation building, they were immediately greeted by a cheerful receptionist. Jon explained to her that they were in America on official Magnus Institute business and wanted to know if the Usher Foundation had any information that could help them. The receptionist started nodding excitedly as soon as he mentioned the Magnus Institute, and told him that the head of the Usher Foundation would be down shortly to greet them. Satisfied, Jon wandered over to the couch in the corner of the foyer, where Sasha and Tim were valiantly struggling to stay awake.

“She said the Head of the Usher Foundation himself will be able to speak with us in a few minutes,” he told them, feeling more than a little pleased with himself. With how unhelpful the Usher Foundation had been on the phone, he certainly hadn’t expected the head of the foundation to be willing to talk to them in person. Then again, he mused to himself, perhaps his own title of Head Archivist did give him a certain gravitas…

“Nice one, boss,” Tim yawned, “Can’t wait to meet American Elias!”

“Oh god, you don’t really think he’ll be like Elias, do you?” Martin blanched at the thought. Even Jon had to admit the thought of getting away from one Elias only to run into another wasn’t particularly appealing.

“Oh man, imagine if their boss is like, literally just Elias except with an American accent,” Sasha giggled, “How funny would that be, right?” The sleep deprivation was starting to get to her.

“Ewwwwww,” Tim shoved her playfully, “Don’t even say that!”

“Can you imagine Elias with a southern accent or something?” said Martin, resulting in another round of loud giggling from Tim and Sasha.

“Yes, yes, this is very amusing,’ said Jon, irritably, “But can you all please take this a little more seriously. We’re about to meet with the Head of the Usher Foundation about our very important investigation. A little professionalism would be nice.”

“Well, gee, I’m flattered you’re all so excited to meet me, but I’d hate you to stop having fun on my account!”

Jon spun around to see a tall man in early middle age, leaning against the reception desk with a relaxed air. If this was the head of the Usher Foundation, he was certainly not what Jon expected. In stark contrast to Elias, who had mastered the art of appearing subtly intimidating and perpetually uptight, the man at the desk had a cheerful demeanor and slightly dishevelled appearance. In fact, he pretty much looked completely average, aside from the eyepatch over his left eye.

“Ah, yes, hi,” Jon stammered awkwardly, desperately trying not to stare at the man’s missing eye, “Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute. My team and I are investigating a case and we were hoping for some help from the Usher Foundation.”

He stuck out his hand a little stiffly, and the head of the Usher Foundation gave him a brief but friendly handshake. Yet another point in the “not like Elias” column.

“I’m Xander Harris, head of the Usher Foundation. What exactly do you need help with?”

Chapter Text

Xander Harris’ office gave a similar impression to the man himself. It was messy and visibly disorganised in a way that made Jon break out in hives, but it also had a homey feel. In addition to a tape recorder and various hastily stacked files, the desk also held a number of framed photographs. Sasha took note of the photographs - most of them showed a guy who was pretty clearly a much younger Xander, surrounded by a group of other young people. His friends from high school or college, she assumed. Oddly enough, none of the photos looked more recent than at least ten years old. Sasha didn’t consider herself to be a naturally suspicious person, and there was probably a reasonable explanation for it, but it certainly made her...curious.

“So, what exactly is it that brings you over here from Ye Olde England?” Xander asked, settling down in his desk chair. Tim snickered, less in reaction to the comment itself and more to the expression of pure disgust that crossed Jon’s face. Tim wasn’t sure yet what he thought of the head of the Usher Foundation, but Jon seemed to hate him so far, which counted for something in Tim’s book.

“We’re here on serious business, actually,” said Jon, “Since I became head archivist at the Magnus Institute I’ve been trying to catalogue all of our older statements, and I’ve come across some troubling connections between them.”

“What kind of connections?”

Jon rummaged around in his bag for the folder of statements. “A suspiciously high number of the statements mention a town in California called Sunnydale,” he replied, not noticing how Xander’s eye widened at the name, “I’ve looked into it and it’s not even a big town or a popular tourist destination. It barely has more than 30,000 people living there, and yet it’s mentioned in more of the statements we’ve received than any other area outside the UK. At least as far as I can tell.”

“Ok...and I’m guessing since you’ve come all the way over from England you want to investigate it, right?” Xander spoke slowly, fixing Jon with a distrustful expression.

“Well, yes, that is what we were hoping!” said Jon, looking very pleased with himself and completely oblivious to Xander’s wariness, “I tried speaking on the phone to one of your staff earlier to see if you had already looked into it, but they seemed a bit cagey. So, me and my assistants decided we should pay it a visit and investigate ourselves!”

He gestured towards the three archival assistants who had huddled awkwardly in the corner. Tim nodded at Xander, his expression unreadable. Martin waved a little shyly. Sasha grinned at Jon and gave him an exaggerated thumbs up.

Jon glared and rolled his eyes and turned back to the head of the Usher Foundation. “So, Mr Harris, if you were able to help us with our investigation we would be very grateful to you.”

Xander sighed heavily and pushed a few strands of hair out of his face. “Right, ok, guess I shoulda known this would happen eventually.” He got up from his chair and began to pace, “Look, I appreciate that you think you can ‘uncover the truth’ or whatever, but Sunnydale....it’s not like other places. Trust me, you go there, you’re not getting out alive.”

“We’re paranormal researchers,” Jon pointed out, “Believe me, Mr Harris, none of us are unfamiliar with danger!”

Sasha coughed and muttered something about some of us having more experience of it than others, earning her another glare from the archivist.

“Yeah, I mean, I can confirm we’ve gone up against some pretty weird stuff lately,” she said hurriedly, “Martin here almost got eaten by worms. It was a right mess.” Jon gave a quick smile at her show of support.

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry to hear about the worms, that sounds pretty rough, but if you’d seen the kind of things I’d seen in Sunnydale....well, maybe the worms wouldn’t look so bad!” snapped Xander. He didn’t seem to notice Martin looking vaguely affronted by this. “I’m seriously not trying to be a dick, I get that you’ve come a long way and this isn’t what you want to hear, but it’s for your own good. You’re in way over your head here.”

Jon, who had been struggling to maintain a calm appearance, finally broke completely and turned bright red in the face. “What, so you think you know more than us? Do you really take us for idiots? I’m not just going to head back to England with my tail between my legs because you think we can’t handle your extra-special American...spooky...things!” He glowered at Xander with laser-focused anger.

“Ok, first off, I’d say that as Head of the Usher Foundation I know quite a lot about the spooky stuff that happens here in America. And frankly, I haven’t made a habit of swanning into England to tell you how to do your job, so would it kill ya to show me the same courtesy?”

Jon glared down at the floor, scuffing the carpet with the toe of his shoe and muttering something that might have been an apology, but honestly it was impossible to tell.

Xander sat back down and his one eye flicked to one of the photos on his desk. “Look, I’m not talking out of my ass here, at least trust me on that. I grew up in Sunnydale; I know what it does to people, I know what kind of....people live there. And if I helped you out and let you go over there and you all died, which you probably would, I’d feel all kinds of bad about it. I don’t need that on my conscience, trust me.” He tapped a finger on the desk thoughtfully, “I probably shouldn’t be telling this but I want to make it clear how serious the situation is: in the twelve years since I joined the Usher Foundation, we’ve sent four research expeditions to Sunnydale. No one from any of those expeditions came back alive. In fact, one of the first things I did after I was promoted to head was put a blanket ban on any of our archivists sending researchers there. We’ve lost a lot of good people to that place, some of them my fault, and I’d rather not be involved in anyone from the freaking Magnus Institute getting killed there too!”

An uncomfortable hush fell over the office. Sasha looked like she was about to offer condolences, but had no idea what to say. Martin had gone very pale. Tim was scratching at the back of his neck and desperately trying to avoid eye contact with anyone. Jon just chewed on his lower lip and looked at Xander impassively.

Jon breathed in deeply. “Well,” he said, and Martin could have sworn he heard a quaver in his voice, “I suppose we’ll be leaving, then.”

The four of them shuffled awkwardly out of the office. Jon had almost closed the door behind him when Xander called out, “Hey, Jon…”

He turned around cautiously, expecting to be met with more anger, but instead Xander looked at him with a sad yet sympathetic smile.

“I know people like you, Jon. Been pretty great friends with a few of them. Hell, I’ve been a guy like you more than once. And I know that if you’re really dead set on figuring out what the hell’s going on in Sunnydale, nothing I can say is gonna change your mind. But just, think about it, ok? I maybe haven’t made a great first impression, but I really don’t want you getting hurt. I’m not your enemy.”

Jon didn’t know how to respond to that. So he just nodded and left the office.

_______________

The walk out of the Usher Foundation was fairly subdued; after the unpleasant news none of the archive team really wanted to discuss the reason for their visit to America. Instead they just walked along, each lost in their own world.

Naturally, it was Tim who finally broke the silence. “So, what’s the verdict on Mr Xander Harris vs our very own Elias Bouchard?”

“Well, Xander certainly seems a lot friendlier than Elias, not that that’s saying much,” Martin smiled weakly.

“Yeah, say what you like about his tactfulness, but I’d rather have him as a boss than Elias any day,” Sasha agreed, “I’m half considering making an application to transfer here as soon as we get back!”

“Hm, I’m not so sure,” mused Tim, “He kind of gave me a similar vibe to Elias, actually.”

Sasha nudged him in the ribs, “Oh, come off it! He’s nothing like Elias! You think Elias would ever let his office get that cluttered?”

“I didn’t say he was exactly like Elias, did I? I said he had a similar vibe! The same kind of energy, if you will. Y’know, he had that whole ‘I’m the head of the Usher Foundation and I know more than you and this is for your own good’ thing going - that’s just textbook Elias right there.”

Sasha and Martin hummed in unison, unconvinced.

“Actually, you know what it was like?” Tim snapped his fingers, “It was like we met a version of Elias from a parallel universe where he didn’t have a massive stick up his arse from birth and knew how to make pleasant conversation. And was also American, for some reason. Same vaguely creepy energy, but much easier to grab a beer with!”

He yelled over his shoulder to make sure Jon, who had lagged behind the others, could hear, “All that said, him telling you that you were in over your head? That was absolutely fantastic! I am storing that one away in the ol’ memory vault for a rainy day!”

That seemed to shake Jon out of his trance. He looked up at the others with a resolute expression, “I’m going to Sunnydale tomorrow, Usher Foundation be damned. The rest of you don’t have to come - in fact, all things considered you probably shouldn’t. The last thing I want is any of you getting hurt on my behalf…”

“Are - are you really sure about this, Jon?” Martin’s voice had gone noticeably squeaky, “Were you even listening to what he said back there? You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Maybe so, Martin, but that’s my choice. Something big is going down in Sunnydale, I’m sure of it, and I can’t just leave something like that alone! I need to see for myself what’s happening. I’m sorry, but I - I need to do this.”

Martin refused to meet Jon’s gaze, instead looking nervously to the other assistants in hope of support. Sasha nodded and stepped forward.

“I’m going with you.”

“SASHA!” Tim yelped, “You can’t! What about your application form to transfer to the Usher Foundation? And what about our pizza night? You can’t bail on pizza night!”

“Sadly, I actually read some of the Sunnydale statements. Xander may have had a point about the place being a death trap,” she slung an arm around Jon’s shoulders, “Someone has to make sure this one doesn’t pick a fight with a vampire or go wandering through a mysteriously appearing door or whatever!”

“You really don’t have to do this, Sasha,” said Jon, gently removing her arm from him.

“I know, but I want to. If nothing else, it’s a way better prospect than going back to the Institute and having to explain our little trip to Elias!” she grinned pointedly at Tim and Martin.

That was a point.

Martin and Tim looked at each other awkwardly. Finally, Tim spoke up, “You know what? I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if it’s a choice between the probable suicide mission in California and facing our boss...well, California here I come!”

“Good choice, Tim,” Sasha winked at him, “For one thing, I’m not entirely sure getting in trouble with Elias wouldn’t be less life-threatening.”

“Definitely more painful,” Tim nodded, “That just leaves you then, Martin.”

Martin sighed, “Well, Elias scares the hell out of me, and I could really do without the guilt of you all dying while I wasn’t there to help you, so I guess I don’t really have a choice.”

“You always have a choice,” said Jon, with a softness that surprised Martin.

“No, I don’t. It’s like you said Jon; this is just...something I have to do.”

Despite himself, and despite the danger they knew they were heading into, Jon smiled. “Thank you. All of you. I…” he trailed off, “I really couldn’t do this without you. Thank you.”

“Aw, don’t go getting soft on us now, boss,” Tim gave his arm a friendly punch, “I don’t want you straining yourself showing an emotion!”

“Yes, very funny, Tim.”

“I am, aren’t I?” Tim yawned and swayed a little, exhaustion clearly getting to him. Much to Jon’s displeasure, he decided that the best solution was to prop himself up against the archivist. “Now can we please get to that motel? I know you’re used to running on zero hours sleep for a week but not all of us have that luxury.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me,” Jon nodded, and set off back in the direction of the bus station. He had a feeling they were going to need all the strength they could get for their investigation.

Chapter Text

Opening hours at the Usher Foundation had long ended, but Xander, as he did almost every evening, was planning to work long into the night. He hadn’t even bothered to turn on the main light in the office, and instead his work was illuminated solely by a weak desk lamp. His desk had been occupied by several large piles of neatly typed statements, and the tape recorder on the edge of the desk played another statement - that of an anxious-sounding man speaking hurriedly about the infestation of spiders in his parents’ house. Every couple of seconds Xander would look up from the files spread out before him, hit pause on the tape recorder, and jot down some apparently vital bit of information from the statement in a thick notebook.

Xander scribbled down a couple of words from the statement and squinted at the notebook in concentration, as if trying to decipher a magic eye painting. After a couple of seconds of this he seemingly gave up on his task, sighing heavily and tossing the notebook down on the desk.

There was a slight movement from a shadowed corner of the office, and Xander reached across the desk to click pause on the tape recorder. “I do know you’re there, you know,” he called out, “I mean, that’s kind of my thing now. Knowing stuff.”

“Well, you say that,” replied the figure that had seemingly appeared from the walls as soon as Xander spoke up, “But from where I’m standing it doesn’t look like the whole research thing is going great for you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t exactly see you helping out.” Xander muttered, burying his face in the notebook again.

The figure stepped out of the corner and into the light. They were dressed in a black cloak flowing down to the floor, with the hood pulled up to obscure their face. Their only visible distinguishing features were a couple of strands of blonde hair falling out of the hood, and a pair of hands that were so thin as to be almost skeletal. “Listen Xander, I know you’ve decided you have to make this your life’s purpose for reasons I do not understand, but some of us do have more important things to do than obsess over...over some lost cause.”

“Oh really, Buff?” Xander snorted, “And what exactly do you call your little round-the-world road trip looking for the Circus?”

He couldn’t see Buffy’s expression under the hood, but you know a person long enough and it becomes second nature to tell from their body language when you’ve pissed them off.

“No, sorry, I didn’t mean -”

“Yeah, you did,” said Buffy coldly, “But it’s fine. At least we both believe what the other’s doing is pointless. Can’t argue with equality.”

What must have only been a few seconds dragged out into hours as the two of them stared each other down. Unable to bear the silence anymore, Xander awkwardly put down the notebook. “So, what brings you back to the Usher Foundation?”

“Aw, come on, Xan. A gang of wacky paranormal investigators from England show up asking questions about Sunnydale, and you expect me to ignore that?”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call them wacky. They seemed pretty serious about the whole thing, honestly.”

“Ok, that makes it more important then! What’s their deal, exactly?” she hesitated for a second, mulling over the implications of what she was about to suggest, “They’re not from the Watchers’ Council, are they? Because if the Council’s decided to take Sunnydale off the ‘not worth dealing with’ list that could end really-”

“Don’t worry, they’re not from the Council, far as I can tell. They’re just researchers from the Magnus Institute.”

“The what-now?”

“Magnus Institute. The stuffier, British-er version of the Usher Foundation, essentially. Their boss is a total creep who might also be an immortal body-jumper, not really sure what’s up with that, but they’re essentially harmless.”

He shrugged and leaned back in his chair, “Doesn’t really matter, anyway. I refused to help them with their dumb investigation and told them to stay the hell away from Sunnydale. If they’re smart they’ll listen to my advice.”

Again, he wasn’t really sure what was happening under her hood, but he suddenly had a sneaking suspicion that Buffy was raising an eyebrow at him. “You really think that’ll work?” she asked, “I mean, they came all the way to America just to try and figure out what the hell is going on in Sunnydale. It sounds to me like they’re kinda dedicated.”

“Yeah, well, at least if they get themselves killed it’s not my fault this time.”

“Actually, it kinda is,” said Buffy, in a tone of voice a couple of shades too close to accusatory for Xander’s liking, “I mean, you know they’re probably gonna go through with this “dumb investigation” anyway, so all you’re really doing is refusing to offer them help.”

“And if I give them advice and information and offer to send someone with them or anything like that, I’m still responsible! Maybe more so!”

“At least you’d be giving them some help with not getting killed!”

“It’s not just them I’m worried about!” Xander hissed. Buffy tensed, anticipating where he was going with this and really not wanting to talk about it.

“Look,” Xander began, rubbing his face frustratedly, “I know you don’t want anything to do with them anymore, but our friends are still there. You think these guys would understand that? You think they’d understand what we went through? They’d take one look at them and see them as a threat and I - I don’t want them getting hurt.”

“Yeah, no offence Xander, but you’re kidding yourself if you think a couple of office workers could do anything to hurt any of them.”

Xander hesitated for a second, unsure how much he should reveal, “They’re not…just office workers. Remember how I said the Magnus Institute is the British version of the Usher Foundation? That’s not just limited to the research.”

“Go on…” said Buffy, shoulders raised protectively.

“Their head archivist, that Jon guy, he’s developing powers. Like what I have,” Xander gestured to his good eye, “I don’t think he even knows he has them, but they’re there. And they’re powerful. I think he… If he had any idea what he could do he could probably rip the information out of me whether I wanted to tell him or not. He’s not someone I exactly want around our friends back in Sunnydale.”

Buffy shoved a stack of statements aside and lifted herself up into a sitting position on Xander’s desk. “Can I make a suggestion, Xan?”

“Go ahead. Can’t guarantee I’ll listen to it though.”

“Ass. Anyway, it seems your dilemma is you don’t want either these Magnus guys or the old Scoobies getting killed, which is fair enough. I think the best thing you can do here is to help out the people from Magnus by sending someone with them. Like a chaperone!”

“And get even more researchers killed? Yeah, great plan.”

“I wasn’t talking about sending more of the Usher Foundation’s researchers, dummy.”

It took a couple of seconds for Xander to get it, and when he did he could only blink in surprise. “You?”

“Yeah, me! Y’know, your friend who knows how to fight, has healing powers, and as far as we both know can’t actually die. I think I’m pretty objectively the best choice.”

Xander struggled not to smile at her words, “You know I wish you weren’t so...blasé about that, right?”

“Hey, maybe if you’d been told basically every day since you were fifteen that you were gonna die young in a vampire attack, you’d also appreciate how nice being immortal feels.”

“This isn’t a joke, Buff!”

“I’m not joking!”

“You’re being used by a fucking evil fear entity and you don’t seem to care at all!” he protested.

“They’re using all of us, Xander.”, said Buffy matter-of-factly, “I’d think you’d know that better than anyone.” Xander self-consciously touched the patch that covered where his left eye had once been.

“And frankly”, she continued, “Out of all of the Entities that could have taken over my life, my guy…”

“The End. Or Terminus, what’s in a name when you’re talking about primordial fear entities anyway,” Xander muttered the last part under his breath.

“Yeah, that guy. It seems like the best one to follow. No rituals, no plots to take over the world, just natural, inevitable death. Plus sweet powers for me!”

“But-” Xander tried to protest again.

“You’re the only one who’s got a problem with this, Xander. I’m okay with it. Will’s okay with it-”

“Oh come on, you can’t use Willow as proof that this is okay. She hasn’t been thinking straight since 2002.”

“I think she stopped thinking straight a while before that,” Buffy grinned.

If she was expecting Xander to be impressed by this wordplay she would be disappointed. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, ok, bad joke, but you gotta admit, you set yourself up for that one perfectly.”

Xander rolled his eyes. “You’re never gonna stop with the ‘making dumb quips in the face of apocalyptic danger’ thing, huh?”

“Hey, I think you deserve at least some of the credit for making me this way, buddy. You used to make worse jokes than I ever did!”

“I did, didn’t I?” Xander smiled softly.

“Exactly! You were a terrible influence,” Buffy laughed.

Xander chuckled at that, carelessly, as if without noticing, but then he caught himself and his face turned serious again.

“Hey, Xan,” Buffy’s voice dropped to a softer register, “When’d you get like this, huh? When’d you stop being able to joke about this stuff?”

Xander shrugged, “Probably about the time we realised you couldn’t die anymore. I mean, we’d dealt with crazy stuff before but that was...”

“Different,” Buffy finished. “I know. But seriously, Xan, what do you think of my idea? Of us helping these guys? I mean who knows, we might even find something new. Something that could help our friends!”

Xander sighed, “I don’t know why you’re even asking me honestly. It’s not like I could ever stop you doing things even before you were an immortal death Avatar.”

“Ha! Damn right!” Buffy nodded, “But seriously, I won’t let you down!”

Xander still looked nervous at the thought, “And it’s not that I don’t have faith in you, it’s just...I really don’t like this. People from the Magnus Institute just showing up, you going back to Sunnydale, the idea of anyone other than us knowing what actually happened there...I don’t like any of it.”

Buffy shrugged, “Trust me, this isn’t an ideal situation for me either. But maybe this’ll turn out to be for the best. Maybe it’s about time we started cleaning up the mess we’ve made…”

She hopped off Xander’s desk, accidentally sending a couple of the statements flying. “So, you should probably call ‘em up then. Tell them you’ve decided to help them after all?” she said as she picked up the stray papers and hurriedly put them back on the desk with seemingly little regard for Xander’s organisation system, “I mean if these guys are anything like you, they’re probably not gonna be asleep yet either.”

“Yeah, I’ll get on it. And thanks for this, Buffy. I can’t say it’s a weight off my mind, but at the very least it’s a slightly lighter weight on my mind.”

“Eh. No problem, Xan. What are friends for, right?”

Xander looked up from rearranging the papers Buffy had disturbed and laughed, “God, that might just be the one thing I don’t know anymore. Well, that and algebra. That one’s still a mystery to me.”

Buffy’s face lit up in a beaming smile, “Xander Harris, I do believe you just made a joke! Gotta be the first time in a decade! I think I can now officially say I’ve been a good friend tonight.”

And, just as quickly as she’d appeared, she melted away into the shadows.

For a few seconds Xander just gazed at the spot where she’d been standing with a fond expression, then reached for the phone with one hand as he started leafing through one of his files with the other.

No rest for the wicked.