Pairing: S/W, X/?
Rating: pg 13
Spoilers: Series Finale
Summary: Set after season 7, Xander and Willow try to go back to a simpler time, before the First arose.
Distribution: Red’s Soulmates, anyone want, just ask.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, don’t sue, I have no money to give you anyways.
Author’s Notes: Caleb didn’t take out Xander’s eye. But everything else still stands. Anya and Spike are dead, etc.
Feedback: I live for it!!
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~Part: 1~ When it’s all said and done
“Xander?” she asked, his name coming out as only a whisper. When he didn’t respond Willow sat gently next to him on his bed. She held his hand, her fingers nervously playing with his. Her normally expressive Xander, the ever jubilant man she had grown up with all her life, was reduced to this shell, lying in a crummy hotel bed, looking broken.
Xander refused to acknowledge his best friend; in fact he hadn’t spoken to anyone in days. Anya was dead, so was Spike, and Sunnydale, their home, was nothing more than a crater in the earth. He had to admit in the end he was proud of Spike, the former ‘Big Bad’ saved the world. And he didn’t do it for himself, or even Buffy, but because he was a true champion.
But what was killing him was the loss of Anya. She had spent over 1100 years as a vengeance demon, then became human. They fell in love, then he walked out on their wedding, the dumbest thing he ever did, but he never stopped loving her. Then she was a demon again, but she worked hard to regain the humanity she lost. They finally were beginning to become comfortable together again. They had another chance. Then she died. And it hurt.
Willow sighed. Buffy, Faith, Dawn, and the other slayers were all out and about. It was the middle of the day, a Thursday, nothing special. They were currently in L.A. awaiting instructions from Giles as to where they were needed. She had contemplated joining the girls in their shopping excursions but she just couldn’t leave her friend. She again was responsible for everyone’s well being. Just like when Buffy died. She was beginning to loathe that position. And Xander, the one man that could always make her smile, lay there in a heap of pain and sorrow. And she had no clue what to do for him.
They had lost so much these past few years, ever since Buffy came to town. Jesse, Jenny, Tara, and now Anya and Spike. Spike, the thought of him made her heart ache. He had loved the slayer with all he had, and in return, she used him to make her feel. It was disgusting how she berated him, hurt him, and he couldn’t help but ask for more. He even went to Africa and got a soul for her! And she still treated him as if he was lower than she. Sure, they became a team, but that was born out of necessity. She didn’t hate him anymore, but she never loved him. It was always Angel, and it always would be. And now he was gone, not even dust. And she missed him, more than she thought she would. But he was so unforgettable, that smirk, his accent, the annoying ability he had to tell you the absolute truth, even if you didn’t want to hear it. He may have been a demon, but there was more man in him, even before the soul, than he would like to admit.
“Sometimes,” Xander said, his voice hoarse from disuse, “I wish things could go back, to before we knew about demons and slayers. You know?” At her sad nod, he continued. “Like when it was just you, me, and Jesse. We were happy, kind of naïve, but definitely happy.”
“I know Xan, I think about that too. I always wondered if Buffy never came to Sunnydale, if we never learned about vampires and demons, if things would have turned out differently. And I don’t mean hell dimension different, like Cordy wished, but…normal. Quiet, may be a little easier.”
“You could do it, you know,” he replied as he began to sit up. She didn’t like the look in those unusually dull brown eyes. He was getting an idea, and she was willing to bet it was a really *bad* idea. “You have that kind of power, and you wouldn’t become veiny Willow. You could make it like it was-”
“You don’t know what you’re asking for Xan. That wouldn’t be some small, little spell. That’s big, as in changing time as we know it, big,” she argued desperately. She knew he was hurting and looking for an easy way out. But there was nothing easy about his suggestion; she just had to make him understand.
He laughed bitterly, “And that would be bad? You said it yourself, Wills, after everything that’s happened, all that we’ve lost, wouldn’t you love to go back, knowing what you know. May be we could finally be happy. I’m so tired Will, I’m not even thirty and I feel like I’ve lived forever. And not in the good way. I have nothing left, except you. Even Buffy is different, she’ll never be the girl we knew again. And I know you’re hurting, I know you better than you know yourself. Why not give yourself the chance to be happy?”
“It’s a nice idea Xan, I understand why you would think everything would be great. But even if I were to manage to send us back in time, we would still have all the memories. The pain won’t disappear, that’s not how it works.”
“I don’t care. I get that the pain isn’t going anywhere. But give us the chance to start over, please.” She started to refuse again, but he stopped her. “Just think about it Wills. Promise me that.”
“Ok.” She left him alone once more and walked to the sitting room. Their hotel room wasn’t that big, but it was large enough for the two of them. She needed time alone, to process everything Xander said. Part of her screamed at her, she couldn’t mess with time like that. It was against the laws of nature. But on the other hand, she knew how far someone in that much pain was willing to go to end it. But she wasn’t even sure it would change anything. Sending them back, to when Sunnydale was just another one horse town and vampires were only the stuff of vivid nightmares, would it turn out any differently? After all, she wasn’t about to create some hell dimension like Anya did, it wasn’t anything as complex. Xander just wanted to return home, back to the time when he, she, and Jesse were together and their evenings did not consist of dangerous patrols of cemeteries. But Buffy would still come to Sunnydale, they couldn’t change that. So what would happen then? Would they just ignore her, never befriend the blonde that changed their lives so drastically? She wasn’t sure what would become of the two of them if she did what he pleaded of her, but right now, she was willing to risk utter chaos, just to make her Xander smile like he used to.
But what if he was right? What if, somehow, they could change their lives for the better? It was such a tempting idea. But there were so many things that could go wrong. The question was, was she willing to risk everything for a chance at something better? She got up and left on a mission. She had some magic supplies to buy. She and Xander were going back to high school.
~~~*~~~
They sat facing each other, inside a protection circle. Willow had painted a symbol on the ground between them, the symbol of infinity, of time itself. They had left the hotel after the sun had set and set up ‘camp’ in a small patch of woods off a local park. They wouldn’t be interrupted there. Looking to the brunette, Willow saw no signs of hesitancy; he really wanted to go through with this. Sighing gravely, she prepared to do probably one of the most foolish things in her life. Oh, only if Giles could see her now, she could practically hear the lecture the Englishman would give her. She burned sage as she handed Xander a piece of paper. She dropped various herbs into a bowl. She signaled him to begin his part of the chant as she set the ingredients on fire.
“Against the laws of time and space,
Grant us leave of this place.
Backward in time, change our fate,
Goddess bring us to this date.”
She threw a feather into the bowl and began her plea.
“Away from here we ask to go,
Free us from the pain we know.
We wish to be with loved ones passed,
Take us into the distant past.
Goddess grant us peace at last.”
She took one last moment to think of everyone who was gone., she grasped Xander’s hands and finished.
“So mote it be.” And in a fantastic burst of light, they disappeared.
~Part: 2~
Willow was reluctant to open her eyes, not sure what to expect. The spell had worked, that much she could tell. She was quite nauseous at the moment, and apparently time travel makes one dizzy.
“Wills?” asked a concerned voice next to her. She blinked and focused on the person speaking.
“Xan?” she prayed that he was alright. “You okay?” He took a look at their surroundings. They were in a small bedroom, a twin bed in the center. Kitty posters hung on the wall, a computer sat on a desk in the corner, light shone through the French doors.
“I’m great! We did it, Wills!” she smiled at his relief. They were in her room, in Sunnydale, a town that by all circumstances shouldn’t exist anymore.
“We really did it…” she whispered, amazed that she actually pulled it off. She pulled herself up off the floor and walked to a standing mirror by her door.
“Holy crap!” she muttered. She took in her appearance, gone were the long, vibrant strands of red hair, in their place was a slightly duller auburn mane. Her clothes left something to be desired, navy blue overalls and a red and yellow striped shirt underneath. That was it, before she went back to high school, she was *definitely* going shopping.
“Gee, Wills. You’re a blast from the past,” exclaimed the brunette.
“You might wanna take a look at yourself too, Xan.” He moved to join her at the mirror. He had lost some of his bulk, a little more lanky than before. Willow was just happy to see that pain vanish from his eyes, even just for a moment.
“Woah,” he breathed, studying his form with a careful eye. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to be fifteen. This was going to take some adjusting. Shaking his head, he stepped away from Willow and moved to her desk, where a calendar was propped up in the corner. Words were written in bright red letters on the coming day, ‘First Day of School’. Will was always fanatical about school, he thought with a smile. Tomorrow was the first day of sophomore year, the day they met Buffy, soon they would be losing Jesse, well, not if he had anything say about it. Things were going to be different this time around.
He vaguely remembered someone, maybe Spike, commiserating about the fact that this slayer had friends; that it wasn’t in the brochure. Spike had a point, he now realized. This life, the sacrifice, the death, he wasn’t made for it. He never asked for any of it, only did what he felt was right. And what did that get him? His former fiancée, the love of his life, was buried in the rumble of Sunnydale. Spike, a demon he reluctantly grew to respect, had burned to death to save the world, and that was just his personal pain. Willow had seen and done far worse than he, and she had once been the most innocent of creatures. Her loves had either cheated on her or left, or had been taken from her with brute force. That life, the magic, it overwhelmed her and she became, if only for a day or two, the enemy. He never wanted to be in that position again, he didn’t want her in that position again.
Willow saw Xander staring off into space and smiled sadly. She knew he was remembering, he had that far away look in his eyes. She was still so unsure if she should have done this, should have brought them back here, but she had her reasons, one more important than the other. There was a time, still so fresh in her memory, when she stood, angry and deadly in grief and despair, ready to end the world, and he saved them all, saved her. He did only the thing he could. He didn’t fight her, like Buffy, or try a spell, like Giles, he just stood there, looking so concerned and frightened, and told her he loved her. She needed a reason to go on, proof that she was needed and cared for, and even after all her destruction he still stood there and told her he loved her. He saved her from drowning in her pain, now it was her chance to return the favor. She just hoped she wouldn’t regret this.
Xander turned around slowly, taking in the childhood bedroom of his best friend. The same as he remembered it. His brown eyes fell on the redhead, frowning when he saw the doubt and worry on her face.
“Hey,” he said softly, crossing the room to stand in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them comfortingly. “We’re gonna be okay, you and me.”
“I hope your right, Xan,” she replied with a shaky smile. “I just can’t get over the feeling that I’ve done something really stupid.”
“You’re Willow, you don’t do stupid,” he assured her with a grin. She raised an eyebrow and looked at him like he had lost his mind. “Okay, so I forgot about your…um, dark period,” he added sheepishly. “But still, you’re my Wills; nothing stupid about you. We can do this, Willow. I swear we can. We will be happy, we’ll have Jesse, everything will be perfect. Think about it Wills. No Angelus, no Master. Darla, Drusilla, the Judge, they won’t be in our lives anymore.”
She knew he was trying to cheer her up, but it wasn’t really working that well. No Angelus also meant no Angel and while she and the souled vampire weren’t the best of friends, he still meant a lot to her. No Drusilla meant no Spike and while, in these early years the bleach blonde only wanted them dead, she still would miss him. He always kept them on their toes. There would be no late night research parties with Giles, no sitting in Buffy’s bedroom watching Indian musicals, no time spent with Jenny looking up spells Giles didn’t want her learning; God, she wished she had thought this through more. It hadn’t hit Xander yet, that was understandable. He had been so devastated that the chance of starting anew looked perfect to him. He just couldn’t see everything that they would no longer have.
“I don’t know what I want to do first,” he started with an eager grin. “Maybe call up Jesse. Will, we can actually call up Jesse!” he exclaimed, his smile infectious.
“All I know is that I am definitely hitting the mall,” she grimaced with a glance at her mismatched clothing. “This is a part of my past I’d like to forget.”
“Don’t say that,” he told her with a teasing pout. “Your…unique fashion choices were part of your Willowy charm.”
“And yet you seemed to be the only one who appreciated it,” she remarked dryly.
“Okay, okay, we’ll take you shopping,” he decided, “then we’ll go to Jesse’s house. That sound good?”
“Yeah,” she replied softly, a reminiscent smile on her face. The prospect of seeing Jesse one more time was the only thing that had the ability to erase her negative thoughts. “But Xan,” she stopped the boy as he went to leave her bedroom. “Tomorrow is…Buffy comes to Sunnydale High tomorrow. What are we going to do?”
“What we always should have done,” he answered, the earlier giddiness absent from his voice, now hard and resigned. “Ignore her.”
“Can you?” she wondered. “She was our friend. Can you just ignore her, knowing what’s going to happen to her?”
“She’s the Chosen One Wills. This, the hellmouth, vampires and demons, they are all her problems, not mine or yours anymore. Let her do what she was born to do and just stay out of it. You know where that path leads.”
“But Xan--” she started, taking a step toward him, biting her lip when his expression closed off and he took another step toward the hall.
“No,” he interrupted her, “we’re not a part of this anymore. We came back to start over, to live a normal life, there’s nothing normal about Buffy’s life. So we have to stay away, end of story.” He turned his back to her, slowly making his way out the door.
“That’s a nice idea,” she muttered more to herself, “But is there any such thing as a normal life in Sunnydale?” He didn’t say a word, the only sign that he heard her was the speeding up of his footsteps and the tightly clenched muscles in his shoulders. With a sigh full of regret and apprehension she moved to join him down the hall. Their new life was not shaping up to be as perfect as he thought it would be. But what’s done is done, there was no going back now.
~~~*~~~
They spent two hours scouring the Sunnydale mall, two unbelievably long and tedious hours considering Xander had taken to completely ignoring the witch that accompanied him. Willow knew he was upset with her. He wanted nothing more than to forget their lives before this, but she knew it wasn’t that simple. History has a really nasty tendency to repeat itself and Willow feared that everything was destined to be as they were before. Maybe this whole expedition into the past was useless, but she was determined to make the best of her situation, this is what she got for acting on an impulse.
“I think we’re done here,” she told Xander who was slouching in a chair by the dressing rooms in Macy’s. He nodded silently and stood. She was becoming a bit annoyed at his attitude, but he was still not himself and this would take some adjustment.
They walked in silence away from the prosperous retail Mecca and through the suburban streets of Sunnydale. Ambling down the familiar sidewalks, the two friends eventually moved closer and closer to one another until Willow had her arm threaded through his, shopping bags in her other hand. Everything looked as they remembered. It was hard to believe that only hours before, this was nothing but a sinkhole. It was kind of creepy.
Xander found it impossible to move as he stared at the door in front of him. He hadn’t been to this house in ages, hadn’t seen his only other best friend, the only other guy he could truly call a friend, in many years. Now that he had the opportunity once more, he had cold feet. Willow, ever the brave girl, reached out a tentative hand, ringing the doorbell and waited with bated breath. Their nerves were getting the better of the both of them but they stood their ground.
The doorknob began to turn and soon enough the massive piece of wood that separated the two from the house swung open. Xander and Willow were as still as statues as the young, lanky teen appeared before them. He was as they remembered him. Tall, still rather thin, messy brown hair which he was running a hand through, and an enigmatic smile that brought joy to their hearts.
“Hey,” Jesse greeted as he waved them inside. “Big day, Will?”
“Huh?” she asked nervously, glancing around the room, unable to look him in the eye. Did he know there was something different about them? She was a little worried that he could tell that something was different about them, but she was too busy taking everything in to care. Everything was as she remembered it. And Jesse, he was undeniably…Jesse.
“Shopping? You got Xander…our Xan to shop?” he teased with a grin. “What has the world come to?”
“Ha,” she laughed, looking to Xander. He didn’t appear to be as worried as she. In fact he was grinning from ear to ear.
“It’s so good to see you, Jess,” he said to the other boy, which caused him to look at him curiously.
“Yeah, because it’s been so long,” he chuckled with a raised eyebrow. “Dude, I just saw you last night at the Bronze.”
“But—well…” Xander stammered, but was saved from coming up with an explanation as Willow suddenly launched herself at the boy, engulfing Jesse in a fierce hug.
“It’s nice to see you too, Wills,” he laughed, hugging her tightly before gently pushing her away with a confused glance. “You two okay? You seem a little…excited,” he added with a bright smile.
“Can’t we just be happy to see our bestest bud?” remarked Xander with a playful punch to the boy’s arm.
“Um…sure,” he decided with a shrug. “Come on, let’s go to the basement, I just picked up this brand new video game you’re gonna love, Xan. But I warn you, be prepared for a royal ass kicking, my friend,” he taunted as he led the two down the stairs. Xander and Willow followed him slowly, just reveling in the chance to see him again, laughing, breathing. It felt so good, so comfortable. Maybe things would work out, she was beginning to truly have hope for a better future, one without all the pain and death. One with Jesse still in it.
~Part: 3~ Welcome to the Hellmouth
Xander weaved through the crowd of high school students, much like he did in the late summer of 1997. First day of school, this was the only part of his plan he wasn’t fond of, he had to actually learn again. That sucked. Unlike the first time he arrived at school for the beginning of sophomore year, he didn’t skateboard his way along the sidewalk, instead walking somberly, looking for Willow.
He froze in mid-step as he saw a familiar blonde walking up the front steps, looking so very young. Buffy. He looked away abruptly. She wasn’t his concern anymore. Spotting the elusive redhead approaching from the opposite side of the street, he finally let out a tiny smile and moved to join her.
“Hey Will,” he greeted, taking a deep breath. “You ready to do this all over again?” He glanced at her, seeing how at ease she appeared. “Oh, what am I saying, *you* loved school, I’m the one who doesn’t want to be here. I’m starting to think I should have brought my high school diploma with me. That way I could have laid back for the next…oh, say three years and then do something with my life.”
“It won’t be that bad, Xander,” she replied with a roll of her eyes. This time around, the redhead ditched the green jumper, instead wearing a comfortably tight fitting pair of blue jeans and an emerald green tank top, simple but cute. She had her auburn hair pulled up in a ponytail. She was resolved to make a hair appointment for the weekend. She was eager to dye it and cut it, maybe shoulder length. “And look at it this way, you’ve taken all the tests before, so you have an advantage. You know all the answers…”
“That implies I was actually paying attention last time,” he grumbled. “Plus I would need an extraordinarily amazing memory, which I am sadly lacking.” She smiled and patted him gently on the arm.
“There, there.”
“Hey, hey,” called Jesse as he jogged up to the twosome.
“What’s up?” greeted Xander with a wide grin. He still couldn’t get over seeing him again.
“New girl!” he replied with a wolfish grin.
“Oh, really,” mumbled Xander, glancing at Willow. “Hadn’t noticed.”
“She’s very much the hottie,” informed Jesse with a wink to Xander. Eager to be done with the subject, Xander merely rolled his eyes.
“That’s nice Jess, but we’re gonna be late for class if we don’t book.”
Jesse gasped, feigning shock. “Xander Harris, ready and willing to go to class? Is the world coming to an end?”
“Hey now! I’ll have you know, I am a learner. I seek knowledge, very scholarly, that’s me. Tell him Will,” he encouraged with a nudge of his elbow.
“Oh yeah, he’s a fountain of knowledge, Xander is. He is wise beyond his years,” she agreed, voice laced with sarcasm. Jesse laughed a draped his arm over Willow’s shoulder, walking with her, Xander a step behind them.
“Well, I guess we are class bound. Wouldn’t want Xan to miss a thing, now would we?” Xander watched the redhead and brunette walk so casually together. He had missed their closeness. They were the three musketeers. This was how it was supposed to be.
~~~*~~~
Willow found herself at the drinking fountain, thirsty beyond belief. She had just gotten out of her second class, loving the opportunity to return once again to the familiar grind of high school. This was her element. Bending slightly, her ears picked up a conversation as two girls walked down the hall.
“Well, you'll be okay here. If you hang with me and mine, you'll be accepted in no time. Of course, we do have to test your coolness factor. You're from L.A., so you can skip the written, but let's see. Vamp nail polish?”
“Um, over?”
“So over. James Spader?”
“He needs to call me!”
“Frappaccinos?”
“Trendy but tasty.”
“John Tesh?”
“The devil.”
“That was pretty much a gimme, but…you passed!”
“Oh goody!”
“Willow…” groaned the ever recognizable voice of Cordelia Chase. Standing up straight, the redhead turned to face Sunnydale’s resident snob. The brunette made a show of looking her up and down. “Nice look, a definite change. Glad to see you ditched the softer side of Sears. Trying to get little Xander’s attention?”
She remained silent for a moment, it was taking all the strength she never knew she possessed to not look to Cordelia’s right, where Buffy Summers was currently standing, looking dismayed at the brunette’s rude statements.
“Cordy?” sighed Willow as the brunette cocked her head to the side with an amused expression. “Bite me.” She took a moment to savor the indignant look on her face before turning sharply and walking away, never once looking back.
“The nerve of that little geek,” mumbled Cordy, a scowl on her pretty face. She glanced at the blonde next to her. “You wanna fit in here, the first rule is: know your losers. Once you can identify them all by sight, they’re a lot easier to avoid.”
The tiny blonde laughed nervously, not happy with Cordelia’s change in attitude at all. But who was she to question her? She was new here. But suddenly, hanging with Cordy didn’t seem like such a great thing.
~~~*~~~
Sitting in the quad, Willow glanced around, looking for Xander and Jesse impatiently. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she looked at her watch quickly before returning her gaze to the lawn and the crowd around her.
“Uh, hi…” started Buffy as she shyly approached the seated redhead, smiling in greeting. “Willow right?”
It took her a moment to respond, mostly because she was trying desperately to think of a way out of this conversation. She had no desire to ignore Buffy, like Xander had suggested, but she knew he was right. If they had any chance for a normal life, Buffy couldn’t be a part of it.
“Um, hi,” the redhead replied with a tiny wave.
“Oh, I’m Buffy, by the way,” the blonde added with a nervous giggle. “Do you mind if--”
“Wills!” called Xander, drawing her attention away from Buffy. He had seen Willow talking with the slayer and rushed to her as fast as he could, Jesse trailing slowly behind. He should have known Willow would be too softhearted to give Buffy the brush off. “Come on, Will,” he said, offering his hand to her. “We’ve gotta go, you know…busy us,” he prodded, pulling her up as Jesse joined them.
“Hey there,” smiled the taller brunette as he reached Buffy’s side. She smiled at him. Xander was still anxiously pulling on Willow’s arm and Jesse noticed his friend’s actions with a frown. Turning back to the blonde, he grinned. “What’s up? Can we do something for you?”
“What?” mumbled Buffy, feeling like she was intruding on something as she watched Willow and the other boy. They obviously didn’t want her here and she couldn’t help but feel stupid for coming over here in the first place. Going to a new school sucks. “Oh, no, you know, I’m just gonna go. Nice meeting you,” she offered with an embarrassed and slightly melancholy smile, her head bowed shyly. Before Jesse could stop her she was gone.
“Huh?” he wondered to himself what the deal was. Turning back to his best friends he looked curiously at Xander. “Uh, dude, what’s the rush?”
Xander let go of Willow as he studied their surroundings, seeing that Buffy was no longer standing there. He would be lying if he said he didn’t mind hurting Buffy. She meant a lot to him, he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. But she only caused chaos in his life, chaos he didn’t need or want.
“Oh, no rush,” he replied, dropping next to Willow as she sat back down. “Just trying to get Will here to help me with my math.”
“It’s the first day of school and you’re already behind? Why am I not surprised?” teased Jesse. “So, what’s up for tonight? Are you up for some post-first day of school partying? We Bronzin’?”
“No!” shouted Xander, causing Jesse to grant him a weirded out look. “I mean, no. The Bronze is so out. It’s boring, blah. What do you say Will, we hang out at your place tonight? Since your parents are still out of town.”
“S-Sure,” she agreed with a forced smile. Jesse sighed but nodded. She knew why Xander wanted them to stay in. Tonight was when Darla would turn Jesse, for his own safety they would forego a night of partying. He didn’t understand, but it was for his own good.
~Part: 4~
The music blared, shaking the very foundation of the only club in Sunnydale, filled to capacity with teens and the occasional twenty-something. The lanky brunette hovered on the edge of the dance floor, silently observing the pulsing crowd as he sipped on his drink. He was running late and while Jesse hated the idea of worrying or disappointing Willow, he just wasn’t in the mood to hang around her house that night. He was young, and cute if he had anything to say about it, and he wanted to have some fun.
“Hey…” purred a semi-familiar voice. He turned slightly, smiling at the blonde girl that had attached herself to his waist. They had been talking a little earlier that night and she had left a second ago to get something to drink. Now she was back, and eager to get to know him by the looks of it.
“So, um, what did you say your name was?” he asked with an embarrassed grin.
“Darla,” she replied, batting her eyelashes and smiling flirtatiously, obviously not bothered by his lack of attention to details.
“Darla. You know, I haven’t seen you around before. Are you from around here?” he wondered, doing his best to keep the conversation going.
“No, but I have family here,” she answered with a smirk, one that went unnoticed by the captivated teen.
“Have I met them?” The smile she granted him caused him to shiver, whether in anticipation or worry he wasn’t sure. And her response he could only describe as cryptic, the teasing voice in which she replied slightly unnerving.
“You probably will…”
~~~*~~~
Xander was pacing, Willow was watching him pace. They were sitting in her living room, the television blaring but the noise never reaching their ears. It was approaching nine o’clock and he wasn’t here. Jesse wasn’t here yet. He was supposed to get here around seven-thirty, but he was known to be a little late. But not an hour and a half late. Something was wrong.
He refused to believe that his gut feeling was right. Xander knew something was off, but Jesse was fine, he had to be fine. They had gone to such lengths just to get him back, so he had to be fine. The ringing of the phone caused the pair to jump but Willow picked it up before the second ring finished sounding.
“Hello? Rosenberg residence.” Xander saw her relieved smile and began to relax. It was Jesse.
“Where are you?” she asked. He wanted to know the answer to that question too. His endless pacing ceased as he chose to listen intently to Willow’s end of the conversation.
“T-The Bronze,” she repeated warily. Fear washed over them. Xander shook his head. This wasn’t supposed to happen, this is why they came back, to stop this. This was all wrong.
“No, Jess, don’t leave. We--” she never got to finish her plea before he hung up. The music had been so loud that he hadn’t heard much of what she said to begin with.
“H-He stopped by the Bronze,” she told Xander numbly. “He said he can’t meet us here. He met a girl. A cute blonde girl.”
“Darla,” Xander whispered, burying his face in his hands.
“Come on, Xan. We’ve gotta go. We can stop her, but we need to leave now.” He said nothing, just grabbed his jacket and followed her out the door. But they both knew it would be a pointless journey. There was no way they could reach the cemetery in time to save him. And their plans began to unravel before their eyes.
~~~*~~~
They watched anxiously as Buffy pummeled a minion, Thomas if Willow was correct. There was no sign of Darla or Jesse, but blood was spattered on the wall of the nearby crypt. They were too late. Oh God they were too late. She took Jesse. That bitch killed their best friend…again. Willow only hoped to be there when Angel staked Darla again. And she knew it would happen.
This was what she was afraid of. Xander’s supposedly brilliant scheme to change everything was useless. Fate has a design, a plan. It is not meant to be changed. Sure, not everything would be as it was before, but certain people were meant to die, to shuffle off this mortal coil, and sadly, there was nothing to be done about it. Willow thought about all those times, all those near-death experiences, all those times she barely escaped the clutches of death and wondered one thing. Why not her? What was so damn special about her that the Reaper passed her up? What was it about Jesse? Why did he have to die? How would the world as we know fall asunder if one boy lived?
But none of it mattered. She could question the Powers that Be as much as she wanted and it wouldn’t change a damn thing. And now she and Xander would have to literally relive the experiences that shaped them, hurt them, nearly tore them apart, all over again. If she wasn’t depressed before, she was now. She wondered if this was what Hell was like. Knowing what was about to come, knowing the pain and heartache that awaited you and not being able to do a damn thing to change it. She wished she had never listened to Xander in the first place.
Buffy won the battle, which came as no surprise to either of her silent and hidden observers. The blonde looked around the cemetery, searching with her eyes for Jesse no doubt, visibly unnerved when she realized he was no where to be seen. She had failed. Silently cursing herself, Buffy briskly jogged out of the cemetery, she needed to speak with Giles.
~~~*~~~
“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” he moaned pitifully as the brunette sat on Willow’s bed, feeling unusually numb. She said nothing, there was nothing to be said. She wasn’t about to tell him ‘I told you so’. He didn’t deserve to be patronized.
“He shouldn’t have been there. Why the hell couldn’t he just listen to me for once?!” he screamed, frustration and pain, in its purest form, pouring off him in waves.
“There was nothing we could do, Xan,” she whispered, leaning against her desk, giving him the space he needed.
“How can you say that? We should have walked him over here. Done something to make sure he never went to the Bronze. We should have done something. Our second day back and we screwed up already…”
“Don’t you see, Xander?” she pleaded, wishing he would look her in the eye. “Some things can’t be changed. I’m willing to bet that even if we walked him here and back home, somehow he would have been attacked. If it wasn’t Darla it would have been another vampire or demon. When our number’s up, that’s it. No second chances.”
“Buffy died…twice,” he reminded her with a glare. “She was brought back. What about that?”
“You gave her CPR. She wasn’t mean to die, not really. It wasn’t her time.”
“And what about after Glory? She was pretty damn dead that time.”
“That had nothing to do with Fate and everything to do with me and too much of my own power. I played God, Xander. Trust me when I say I’ll never do it again. She shouldn’t have been brought back. Her return, it opened the door for the First. Actions have consequences, Xan. Even if we saved Jesse, someone else would have died. There’s nothing we could have done.”
“Some consolation that is,” he scoffed, wiping away a stray tear.
“It doesn’t make it better,” she agreed softly. “But it’s the truth.” Silence reigned for minutes and minutes, neither knowing what to say before Willow once again spoke.
“Are you gonna go to the Bronze tomorrow night?” she asked hesitantly. He knew what she wasn’t saying. Was he going to go to the Bronze tomorrow night and stake Jesse, like he did all those years before? He didn’t want to, he really didn’t want to.
“Yeah,” he replied, bowing his head and sniffling. He didn’t want to stake his best friend again, but it would kill him to see the demon with his friend’s face, torturing and killing innocent people. It was for the best to just get it over with. Willow nodded absently. She would be at his side.
“Sometimes,” he commiserated with a hollow laugh, “I wonder if the world hates us. If Fate hates us so much that we have to watch all the people we love die, not once, but twice, and yet we are still here. Why do we go on? Why do they get to rest? It’s endless, Will. We fight and for what? Humanity comes with an expiration date. We’re merely delaying someone’s death. So are we really doing any good? Or are we just gluttons for punishment?”
“You can’t think like that,” she warned him gently. “That attitude makes you careless. It can get you killed.”
“Somehow, that’s not as frightening a prospect as it should be,” he told her sadly. “I’m just so damn tired of it Will. I thought…”
“What Xander? What?” she prodded.
“I thought coming here would make it better. But it’s not better. It’s the same. Anya’s still gone, Jesse’s as good as dead. It’s like we’re destined to lose everyone.”
“Those were the cards we were dealt,” she said quietly. “We can’t trade them, Xan. But we can control how the game is played. We can wallow, Lord knows we’ve done a lot of that, or we can continue on. Buffy is gonna need our help…”
“She’s on her own,” he declared fervently. “I’m done Will. I mean it. We’re all destined to die like you said, right? Nothing I do or say will change it. So I quit. I’m not putting myself through that again, all the slaying and the injuries and the death. We’ve all had our share of broken bones and pain, my god Will, you’ve even been in a coma! But I’m not going to do it all over again. Fate can do what it will with me, but I’m not about to voluntarily go back to that. I love Buffy, you know that. But this is her calling not ours. I can’t stop you Will. But I’m begging you, don’t help her. You now what’s going to happen, that Ms. Calendar will die, do you want to relive that again? Isn’t it better to distance yourself from it all?”
She didn’t reply. She honestly didn’t know what to say. And to be truthful, he wasn’t really expecting an answer.
~Part: 5~ Prophecy Girl
The following weeks were strange for Willow and Xander. Things were happening around them just as they remembered. Xander did as he promised and staked Jesse, but this time there was no pleading for the boy to listen, Xander just pierced his heart and watched as he disintegrated before his eyes. It wasn’t an easier for him to do this time around, but he did what had to be done.
He still had all the memories from before. How naïve he had been, the first time around. Begging Jesse to listen to reason when they first found out he had been turned. ‘Jesse, man. We’re buds, don’t you remember?’ His words seemed foolish to Xander now. ‘Jesse, I know there’s still a part of you in there.’ He was stupid, that was all he could think. And all Jesse, or the demon wearing his face, could say was, ‘Jesse was an excruciating loser who couldn’t get a date with anyone in the sighted community! Look at me. I’m a new man!’ He had known then and there that there was no hope for his friend. At least this time, he didn’t have to listen to a demon belittle his best friend. No words were spoken, they were pointless.
They did their best to keep things as they should be. Willow made sure to deal with Amy, whose mother had switched bodies with her daughter, before any of the cheerleaders, even Cordy, could be hurt. Although it was seriously tempting to let Mrs. Madison do what she wished with Cordelia.
Buffy slayed the praying mantis teacher, as she did before, their help was unneeded there. Xander made no attempts to watch over Buffy, only Willow looked out for their friend, made sure she was alright. But the redhead was worried. The blonde was so alone. Xander maintained that the slayer was born to be alone, destined to live a solitary life, but no one should be so isolated. Especially considering all the stress she had in her life. It wasn’t fair to her. And yet, Willow remained in the background, wanting to help, but fearing the repercussions of such actions.
Willow made sure that she and Xander had front row seats to Darla’s dusting at the hands of Angel, watching from the shadows of the abandoned Bronze. The boy didn’t seem any happier, but she knew seeing Jesse’s killer get what was coming to her was helping him heal, if only a little.
Buffy now knew Angel was a vampire and reacted just as she remembered. It was so eerily similar that it gave the witch the shivers. Xander was so determined to not think about what was going on in the slayer’s life that Willow found that she had no one to confide in about her worries. Everything was the same, but this time, she felt without a purpose. She wasn’t helping fight evil. Instead she was living a ‘normal’ teenage life. Trouble was she wasn’t a normal teenager. Not helping Buffy made her feel useless. Xander felt as unanchored as she did, she knew, but he was too stubborn to tell her.
Everything progressed as she remembered. There was Sid, the talking dummy from the talent show. The hyena possessed group of kids, with the exception of Xander of course. Willow had tried her best to save Principal Flutie, but her efforts to help the kindly man were in vain. The pack had gotten to him before she could do a thing. And then there was Marcy, the invisible girl who tried to disfigure Cordelia. Buffy resolved that problem all on her own. On one hand, Willow was proud of the blonde. She was extremely good at her job. But on other, she was beginning to wonder if, before, she really needed their help, or if they had merely been an inconvenience. Maybe Spike had been right all those years ago, when he was still raging over the chip shoved in his head. Maybe she and Xander were the same 10th grade losers they always had been and Buffy was too much of a softie to cut them loose. She hoped she was wrong.
Weeks went by and the redhead was filled with a sense of apprehension. She had this feeling, like she was forgetting something really important, something life changing, as if their life hadn’t changed so much already. She made her way down the crowded hallways of Sunnydale High, heading to her locker. Thankfully it was Friday and the day was over. Normally she loved school, she knew she was nerd at heart, but today, she felt nervous and worried. She just wanted to go home, soak in a long, hot bath, and forget today ever happened.
“There you are,” sighed Xander as he jogged to her side. “We home bound Wills?” He had taken to staying at her house when her parents were away, his parents didn’t really seem to notice his disappearance.
“Yeah, I think I’m gonna stay in tonight. No Bronzing for me, what about you?” she wondered with a small smile at the brunette beside her as she zipped up her backpack and closed her locker.
“No Bronze for me either, tonight’s the Spring Fling remember? Not your typical laidback evening. The Bronze will be overrun with overdressed teens and I have no desire to subject myself to the horror of a high school dance,” he told her with a shudder.
“I know what you mean,” she agreed softly. Something was still nagging at the back of her mind and Xander’s comment only made it worse, but she still couldn’t figure out what it was.
~~~*~~~
They were watching TV, nothing interesting, just another episode of “The Real World”. Xander glanced back at the redhead seated next to him, studying her intently as she fidgeted and shifted on the couch constantly. She adjusted her position again and Xander had finally had enough.
“Willow! What’s the matter with you?” The witch found herself looking to the clock, seeing it was past six, the sun had gone down by now.
“I don’t know,” she replied regretfully. “Don’t you feel it, Xan?”
“Feel what?” he asked curiously, scooting closer.
“I just feel like there’s something we’re supposed to be doing. Something big, can’t you feel it? It’s been driving me crazy all day.”
“Nothing’s gonna happen tonight, Wills. Nothing bad happened at the Spring Fling, no demonic interruptions or anything, so relax; will you?”
“Spring Fling…” she muttered to herself. “Oh God, the Spring Fling! We’ve got to go!” She jumped off the couch, not even bothering to turn off the television, instead tugging insistently at his arm as he gave her a strange look.
“Damn it Xan, move your ass,” she demanded, surprising him into action. “The Spring Fling, the Master is gonna rise tonight and that means that Buffy’s going to die, remember? We have to go, you have to save her, give her CPR like before! Now!”
“Maybe we shouldn’t--” he started but her furious glare stopped him. Willow was wearing her world famous resolve face and he had no desire to fight her. Underneath all the anger and the pain that clouded his judgment still, he cared for Buffy. Willow was right, it wasn’t Buffy’s time; they had to help. Clamping his mouth shut, he let her pull him out of her house.
“Where do we go? Do you remember the way?” He stopped in his tracks, trying his best to remember how to get to the Master’s underground lair, but he only remembered bits and pieces.
“No,” he replied soberly, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her in the opposite direction. “But I know someone who does.”
~~~*~~~
Xander pounded on the door with Willow beside him, looking on with worry and confusion. He realized she had no idea where they were. The door was flung open and they found themselves face to face with an annoyed Angel who was looking down at them uneasily. He wore blue jeans, which Willow found surprising. She forgot, in the early days, when Angel was still Mystery Man, he wore jeans and a tank, sometimes a leather jacket. It had been so long since she had seen him in anything but black slacks and a dress shirt. It caught her off guard. If it was any consolation, Angel was caught off guard as well. The younger brunette knew there was no time to waste and he was in no mood to deal with Angel’s nervousness at their arrival.
“She’s in danger, we need you to find her,” he told the vampire gravely who only raised an eyebrow in response. “Buffy, the slayer. The Master is gonna kill her tonight if you don’t help us find her, like five minutes ago!”
“How do you know about Buffy?” he growled defensively, taking an angry step forward, the glare on his face making Willow cringe. “Who the hell are you?!”
“Listen, Angel,” Xander interrupted, shocking the vampire when he called him by his name. “We don’t have time for this; she doesn’t have time for this. I’d be happy to explain who we are and why we are here when she’s out of danger. Now, are you going to help us deadboy, or are we going to have to save her ourselves?” Willow nearly broke out into hysterical laughter at Xander’s old nickname for Angel, but managed to keep her expression serious. Now was not the time for jokes.
“Fine,” Angel replied briskly, “but when this is over, you and I are going to have a long talk, both of you,” he warned darkly before pushing past the teen and heading out of his building. He didn’t even need to be told where to start looking for the slayer. He knew where the entrance to the Master’s lair was and he knew, no matter the earlier warnings he had given her, the blonde was too headstrong to listen to him or her watcher.
Willow and Xander followed only a few feet behind the speeding vampire, saying nothing. Xander was uncharacteristically serious, but sadly that seemed the norm for him the past few weeks. Willow was too busy trying to think of how they were going to explain things to Angel without telling him everything or making him think they were certifiable. She knew how protective the vampire was of Buffy, it would be sweet if she weren’t about to be on the receiving end of his overprotective nature. Soul or not, Angel would kill to keep Buffy safe and Willow really wasn’t looking to be on his hit list.
They entered a crypt and slipped through a hidden doorway, weaving quickly through the twisting passages underneath one of Sunnydale’s many cemeteries. Silence reigned, only broken by the sounds of heavy footfall, dripping water, and rats scurrying around. Candlelight flickered from a nearing doorway and they sped up their pace.
Angel only paused for a moment, shocked at seeing Buffy lying at the far end of the Master’s self-induced prison, face down in a pool of dirty water. He shook himself and ran to her, dragging her quickly from the water and looking down at her still form, visibly shaken.
Xander was brought back to all those years ago, when he first found Buffy dead and cold and he could repress the unconscious shudder that made its way through his body. Willow was not impaired by such memories, moving to join the vampire on the ground before screaming for Xander to get over there and help. The younger brunette fell to his knees beside the trio, laying Buffy flat on her back and leaning over her body, placing his joined hands on the center of her chest and pushing down repeatedly three times before tipping her head back slightly and covering her mouth with his own and pinching her nose shut. He offered her vital air before moving away and repeating his actions.
Thankfully it only took two tries before the blonde’s body lurched and she began to cough up the water that had filled her lungs. Angel placed a hand on the small of her back, pushing her into a sitting position to help her breathe.
“How are you Buffy?” Willow asked softly, relieved when the slayer looked to her, eyes sharp and focused.
“W-Willow?” she murmured confusedly, unsure as to why a mere acquaintance of hers was here.
“Are you alright?” Angel prodded, his attention devoted to the tiny slayer, the two strangers forgotten.
“I feel fine…great even,” Buffy told him, losing herself in the endless depths of his eyes.
“Great?” he asked incredulously, “You died Buffy.” His voice nearly cracked with pain and terror at the thought of her death. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms, assure himself she was really there, but he resisted.
“Really Angel,” she assured him as he helped her up. “I’m good, I feel energized.”
“Uh, people,” broke in Xander, feeling every bit the outsider, “not to break up the happy reunion, but there’s still the issue of the Master.” Buffy looked away from Angel’s worried gaze, studying Xander closely, wondering how he knew anything about the Master. She glanced back to the vampire, cocking her head to the side, silently asking if they were friend or foe. He nodded to her once and she relaxed slightly.
“He’s gone up,” Angel told her in a low tone, nervous about sharing such information with these strangers. Buffy didn’t look fazed, instead, she squared her shoulders and with one final glance at the other pair in the room, she straightened herself.
“Then let’s go.”
~~~*~~~
The foursome walked briskly down the streets of Sunnydale. Buffy knew where they were going, Angel seemed to be the only one who was merely following the slayer. Willow and Xander didn’t need to use the blonde as a guide. They were going back to the high school, back to the hellmouth.
When they reached the front of the school, Buffy stopped, appraising the redhead and brunette respectively. She looked every bit the wartime general. Deciding they could be trusted, she turned to Angel.
“Okay, you wait here, keep the rest of the vampires off of me. And Angel…you better put on your game face,” she added before spinning on her heel, her white dress flaring in the breeze as she strode confidently into the halls and up the stairs to the roof. She had a vampire to kill.
The trio split up, Willow and Xander taking the right side of the hallway, Angel taking the left. Minions swarmed the corridor, but they were nothing the experienced fighters couldn’t handle. The two humans may not be properly trained, but after years of staking vamps, it became second nature to them. They could definitely hold their own. When he wasn’t pummeling vamps, Angel took the opportunity to watch the twosome. There was something about them that was just…off. He wasn’t sure they could be trusted.
Hearing a frantic scream come from inside the library, they ran for the double doors. Giles, Jenny, and Cordelia were strewn about the room, alternately battling that three-headed hellmouth creature Willow remembered so well. She used to have nightmares about that one. Giles swung at it with an axe but he barely made a dent.
Angel ran to help them, but Xander and Willow remained close to the counter. They knew what was coming, no need getting injured when it would be over in a minute. A resounding crash was heard, causing the entire group to look up to the skylight where the body of the Master, still hurling curses at the slayer above him, fell and impaled itself on a stray piece of broken wood. With an unearthly scream of fury, the Master began to deteriorate rapidly as the creature that had burst through the floor scrambled back into the safety of its home.
They all stood there for a moment, staring blankly at the scene in front of them, only the sound of Buffy’s clicking heels waking them from their stupor. The blonde stopped after taking a few steps into the library, her gaze falling on the bones of the Master, lying there like a morbid art display.
“The vampires?” Giles inquired exhaustedly, not paying any attention to their guests.
“Gone,” Cordy assured him.
“The Master?” Angel muttered, still unable to believe that bastard of a grandsire was gone.
“Dead. The hellmouth is closed,” Giles replied, pulling off his glasses and cleaning them furiously.
Seeing they did what they came to do, namely save Buffy, Xander took Willow’s hand, hoping against hope to make an unnoticed escape. They weren’t that fortunate.
Angel crossed the room, vampiric speed working to his advantage as he placed himself in front of their path, blocking the doors.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he told them, staring them down, practically daring them to argue with him. “Seems we have a lot to talk about. Find a seat and get comfy, you’re gonna be here for awhile,” he advised, arms crossed over his chest. Willow chanced a glance around the room, feeling like she was under a microscope as the entire group watched them suspiciously.
“Well,” she sighed, looking to Xander apologetically. “Let’s get this over with…”
~Part: 6~
The anxious redhead and her brunette companion moved to take seats where they could considering the library was currently in shambles. Buffy spared them one glance before turning to her watcher.
“What about him?” she wondered, pointing to the remains of the Master that were lying there unceremoniously in the center of the room.
“Uh, well,” he stammered, taking off his glasses and cleaning them, bringing back so many memories as the forgotten twosome looked on. “We bury him, sprinkle the grave in holy water, consecrate the dirt, just to be safe,” he decided with a proud smile.
“A-Actually,” interrupted Willow, shrinking farther into her chair when every gaze turned in her direction. “You don’t want to do that.”
“And why, may I ask, is that?” questioned the librarian, not used to having someone question him, especially not some…child.
“You can use all the holy water and, uh…consecrated dirt…you want, but that’s not gonna stop them,” she explained. “The vampires, that is. They’ll dig him out—ow!” she shrieked when Xander hit her in the arm with a surprisingly sharp elbow. Glaring at him, she ignored his warning glance and continued. “Trust me, only badness can come from that.”
Giles went to argue, but Buffy beat him to it. “Why would they dig him out? He’s a big pile of bones. What use is that?”
“A big pile of bones? No use at all,” declared Willow, “but a big pile of bones resurrected, lots of uses. Mostly of the evil variety. The Master’s followers, led by the Anointed, will try to resurrect the Master, to kill you. So, my recommendation, skip the burial. Crushing his bones to a fine dust, that should work nicely. Can’t resurrect a pile of dust, can you?”
“Giles, is she--” the slayer started, looking beseeching to her watcher, but he wasn’t the one to answer her.
“She’s right,” said Angel, watching the redhead carefully. She radiated power, must be a witch, he couldn’t sense anything demonic about her, or her companion for that matter. But for someone so young and…non-threatening, she knew way too much about their current situation than he cared for.
“The Master was no ordinary vampire,” he acknowledged softly. “He didn’t even turn to dust, just a skeleton. The best idea would be to destroy what’s left of the body. Then you can dispose of him anyway you want without risking the possibility of his return.”
“Y-Yes,” agreed Giles warily. “That does sound about right.” The older gentleman leaned on the counter, the events of the night taking their toll on him. Jenny moved to his side and Willow did her best to not look at the computer teacher. It was strange, seeing her here, alive.
“What I’d like to know,” declared Angel, taking a step toward the seated pair, Buffy a couple feet behind him, Cordelia lingering beside the blonde. “Is *how* you know all this.” He spared a quick glance at the brunette before settling his gaze on the redhead. She made him a little nervous, but the boy he didn’t see as a threat.
“I research,” she offered with a hesitant shrug. Angel’s displeased growl made her jump and Xander’s hand tightened its grip on her own, reassuring her.
“And why is that?”
“Hobby?” she replied weakly, cringing at the vampire’s maddened scowl.
“And what high school girl spends her time reading up on demons and the different ways to kill them?” Willow didn’t even bother to respond, only shooting Angel a raised eyebrow and looking to the slayer behind him. Xander didn’t even try to hold back his amused snort.
Angel looked a little sheepish as he turned to glance at Buffy.
“Well, actually,” the tiny blonde interrupted, trying to spare Angel embarrassment. “I don’t do a lot of reading, not my thing. I’m more of a hands on kinda girl. Just point me in the direction of something evil and we’re good.”
“Yes, Buffy, we get your point,” sighed an exasperated Giles. “You don’t read. Which is truly a tragedy, you children these days have no grasp of the written word. Bloody teenagers…” he muttered, Buffy merely smirking at her watcher’s rant.
“How did you know Buffy was in trouble tonight?” Angel inquired, bringing them back on track. This time, he was concentrating on Xander who sunk farther into his chair under the weight of the vampire’s gaze.
“Lucky guess?” he retorted, eager to jump at the opportunity to piss off the souled vampire.
“That’s it!” snarled Angel, game face coming forward as he glared at the couple. “I’m sick of you’re smart-ass remarks. I *want* answers, now!”
“Is that supposed to be threatening?” scoffed Xander, this time it was him ignoring Willow’s warning looks. “It might be if I didn’t know you were all soul-having, Angelus.”
The room fell silent and Xander was inwardly scolding himself for his last taunt. The idea was to get out of this little inquisition without divulging as much information as possible. He was screwing up royally. His only consolation was that Willow had screwed up too, so at least he wasn’t alone.
“How do you know about my soul?” the glowering brunette asked softly.
“I know a lot of things, we both do,” Xander shrugged. “Doesn’t mean we’re the enemy.”
“You’ve obviously done your research on us,” countered Angel, “we’re supposed to trust someone who’s been spying on us?”
“We haven’t been spying on you!” cried Willow, angry at Xander for pushing Angel. “And we haven’t been…‘doing our research’…we just—know things. We can’t get into how, you wouldn’t understand, but we’re not here to threaten you. We want to help.”
“Speak for yourself,” grumbled Xander, tugging his hand free from her grip. “*I* don’t want to help,” he told the group, “*I* want to go home. Maybe get some sleep…”
“Shut up!” the witch hissed, the annoyed look on her face causing Xander to fall quiet.
“So…you—know things?” Angel wondered skeptically. “You’re…seers?”
“You could say that…” replied Xander cryptically. He smirked when he saw the confused expression on Angel’s face. See how you like it Lack-of-Words-Guy.
“Look,” broke in Buffy, tired of the bickering, “we’re getting no where. Angel,” she implored, turning to the tall vampire, “they saved me, helped us defeat the Master. That doesn’t really place them in the ‘bad guys’ category. Plus, if they really are seers, they could be helpful. I say we declare a truce, okay?” she offered, looking to Willow and Xander. “You have to understand why we’re a little…standoffish. But if you’re really here to help…we might be able to work something out.”
“I understand completely,” assured Willow, but Xander said nothing, totally ignoring them all, not happy with the idea of being one of the Scoobies again. This is what they came back to avoid.
The group of seven shuffled their feet and shifted in their chairs awkwardly, a tentative alliance now formed. Willow glanced at Xander, frowning at his closed off expression. Angel watched them suspiciously. While Buffy might be willing to have a truce, she knew Angel wasn’t about to let things go as easily. They would have to keep an eye out for him. After nearly a minute of complete silence, Cordelia finally took the lead.
“Hey! I hear there’s a dance at the Bronze tonight. Could be fun…Buffy?”
“Sure. We saved the world. I say we party!” she decided with a happy shrug. “I mean, I got all pretty…” They all started to head to the double doors.
“I’m not dancing, though,” declared Giles, in his own stuffy British manner.
“We’ll see…” teased Miss Calendar.
“You can come with us Angel,” Buffy offered shyly and he smiled slightly, moving to her side. “You guys coming?” the slayer wondered, looking back to the remaining two still lingering in the library.
Willow turned to Xander, seeing he had absolutely no desire to join in the fun. After all, they had done this all before, it’s not like they were going to miss anything. But still, part of her wanted to link arms with Buffy once more and dance, have fun. But then she would be right back where she started and that would defeat the whole purpose of their little time traveling expedition.
“Nah,” she sighed sadly, “go on,” she shooed them. “We’re just going to go home.” They watched them leave, waiting a minute before Xander stood, making his way through the rubble that was the library, Willow behind him. Everything was so similar to before, not exactly the same, but still…he was beginning to wonder if his life was destined to turn out to be as depressing as it had been before. The two stepped foot out of the school, looking to the right and watching Buffy and the gang walking off to the Bronze. With a heavy heart, he took Willow’s hand once more and they started walking, turning to the left, listening to the laughing voices slowly fade away.
~Part: 7~ School Hard
Willow stood just outside the doors to the library, silently debating whether or not to go inside. Xander was at the Bronze, which wasn’t unusual these days. He had begun to even avoid her. He wasn’t happy, that was certain. But she was at a loss what to do. He was still so adamant that he could change things, make them better. Willow wasn’t so sure. So here she was, standing outside the library where Buffy, Cordy, Angel, and Giles were congregated. It was a Monday night and to any normal teenager, school would not be the place to be on a Monday night. But they weren’t normal teens, so the library it is.
With a deep breath, the redhead pushed open the doors. Xander may not want to be of any help, but she needed a purpose once more, and she needed to help any way she could. Four pairs of eyes turned to the doorway and Willow fought the urge to look away. She never did like having the spotlight on her.
“Hey Will,” greeted Buffy with a small smile. The redhead gave a tiny wave and moved closer to the table. Cordelia didn’t bother with a hello, they had never been the best of friends. Angel regarded her carefully before simply nodding in her direction and Giles offered a fatherly smile. Her appearance wasn’t exactly a new thing. Every once and awhile she would come here, offer advice as best she could. She was slowly gaining their trust, although she knew Angel still held some reservations about her. They never really spoke about it, but she knew they still considered her a seer. Surprising even herself, she made no move to correct them. In a way it was true, plus she wouldn’t have to find a way to explain how she and Xander managed to defy the laws of time and space to come back here.
“Hey Buff,” she said with a nervous grin, slipping into the free chair next to the slayer. They weren’t the best of friends, not yet at least. And with Xander’s increasing avoidance of her, she was beginning to really long for a friend, but she and the blonde were becoming closer, if that was any consolation. “What’s the creature feature tonight?”
“Actually,” replied Buffy with a shrug, “we don’t have one. We had that whole thing with Chris and Darryl Epps, but that’s finished and done with, thankfully,” she shivered at the thought of the boys, piecing together the perfect girl. Creepy beyond words if you asked her.
“That whole thing gave me major wiggins,” Willow agreed.
“There is one issue at hand,” interrupted Giles, looking up from one of his many demonic volumes.
“What’s that?” asked Cordelia in her patented bored tone. She spared them all a glance before looking back at her nails.
“The Anointed One,” Giles answered grimly. “He’s still on the loose. And as we well know, he may have the body of a child, but the strength of a demon and a mind that rivaled the Master’s in intelligence and deviousness. I’m afraid he needs to be taken care of and soon.”
“Got it,” declared Buffy with a determined nod. “Damien is dust.”
Willow took a moment to think about the last time the Anointed One roamed Sunnydale. Her face paled and she swallowed nervously, her mouth suddenly dry.
“Um, that really won’t be necessary,” she whispered uncertainly. The librarian closed his book with a sigh. She had proven that she did have some ability in predicting the future, exactly how he wasn’t sure. But he was still reluctant to believe her every time she offered some sage advice.
“And why is that now?” he said in exasperation.
“The Anointed One will be taken care of soon enough. He’s not your concern.” She didn’t want to say too much more.
“Who is going to kill the Anointed One?” asked Angel, studying the redhead carefully.
“I can’t say, I’m really not sure,” she replied regretfully. “You’ll just have to trust me. He’s not threat, give it a week, and he’ll be dust.”
“Another one of your ‘visions’?” he added with a questioning eyebrow.
“Angel,” Buffy interrupted, her voice a warning, “back off.” She gave Willow an apologetic smile. “Sorry about him, but you know how he is. The attitude comes with the fangs, I think.”
“No problem,” the witch assured her softly.
“Anyway, I’m all for some time off,” Buffy continued with a grin. “No baddies to kill, no new Masters, a girl could get used to this…and I totally just jinxed myself, didn’t I?” she groaned. Cordelia bit back a laugh and Willow placed a sympathetic hand on her arm.
“Well, kinda,” Willow admitted tentatively. She had learned pretty quickly that certain events were going to happen no matter what, so it was best to merely go with the flow. But she also learned that revealing too much information made everyone very suspicious. She was sure Angel thought she was some sort of spy or something, ferreting information to all the demons in the town about their goings on. He couldn’t be further from the truth. So from now on, she only gave little warnings, but nothing really solid. It was as much for her own safety than anything else.
“Oh, great,” Buffy complained, her head laying on the table with a ‘thunk’ as she thought about fighting yet another Master. “This week bites, first there’s Snyder, comparing me to Sheila…*Sheila* of all people. Then telling me I have to organize Parent-Teacher night in hopes of not getting expelled. Now you’re telling me there’s gonna be a new Master? My life sucks,” she pouted as Angel looked on with a tiny grin.
“Ugh, I forgot to tell you about that, Wills,” she whined. “Principal Snyder actually thinks I’m as bad as Sheila, so now I’m paired up with her to decorate the lounge for Parent-Teacher night. I mean, okay, so I’ve cut class, and maybe I’ve been in a couple fights, but slayer here! I never hit anyone that didn’t really deserve it! She actually stabbed a teacher w-with some pruning shears and he’s comparing me to her! The nerve, honestly!”
“I know Buffy, he’s evil,” the redhead giggled.
“Isn’t he though!” she huffed with a frown.
“You need any help with the decorating and stuff? I’ve got some free time on my hands if you need me,” Willow offered, genuinely hoping Buffy would agree.
The slayer jumped at the chance, throwing her arms around a surprised witch and squeezing her tightly as she squealed in delight.
“Oh God thanks Wills!” The redhead tried to speak but all she could manage was a few squeaks. “Oops, sorry. Forgot, slayer-strength and all,” she apologized with a sheepish grin. She fell back into her own chair, glancing shyly in Angel’s direction before turning to Willow once more.
“So, you sure there’s a new baddie heading this way, my all-seeing friend?”
“Yup,” Willow answered soberly, thinking about the vampire she knew so well currently heading to town. “Things are gonna get interesting.”
Buffy could only sigh regretfully. “Damn…”
~~~*~~~
The night was quiet, undisturbed. The only sounds pervading the endless silence were that of crickets and the occasional whistling of the wind. In the distance, along the deserted road, a faint roaring could be heard in the distance. The noise became louder and louder with every passing second and anyone passing by would easily recognize it as the sound of a car engine.
Lights were scarce along the two lane highway, the only lamps were perched above the rather large ‘Welcome to Sunnydale’ sign on the side of the road. The engine revved as it neared the city limits, the driver flooring the gas until it could go no further, the car, a ’58 black Desoto FireFlite flying down the road at a dangerous speed.
As the sign came into view through the painted black windshield the car turned sharply off the side of the road, barreling through the piece of wood, causing it to splinter into thousands of pieces. The Desoto came to a screeching halt, the driver’s side door opening with a hard shove.
Black boots stepped out onto the dirt and grass, the broken pieces of wood crunching under the weight of the person. The man, easily recognizable with his bleach blonde hair and leather duster, searched his coat pockets for a cigarette and his lighter. His face, distorted by unnatural ridges and wrinkles, shone underneath the faint light of the street lamp.
Flickering open his lighter and lighting the cigarette now pursed between his lips, he took a deep breath, inhaling the comforting smoke before exhaling with a grin that could only be described as pure evil. His voice tinged with a husky British accent as he finally spoke.
“Home, sweet home.”
~Part: 8~
“Sheila's a no-show? She goes to this really rank bar. The Fish Tank? Sometimes they have raids and other stuff that can make you tardy.” Willow offered Buffy a sympathetic smile as they continued to paint the banner that needed to hang above the lounge. She had tried to get Xander to help out but he not-so-politely declined. She was still a little mad at him for that.
“D'you think you can help me cram some French tonight? I don't want Mr. DeJean telling my mother I'm an imbecile,” sighed Buffy. As if hosting Parent-Teacher night wasn’t stressful enough, she had a French test coming up. Welcome to awesomeness that was her life.
“I thought we were going to the Bronze tonight. 'Cause of how you thought Angel might show?”
“We're going to the Bronze. I can study and party and do Parent-Teacher night and make my mother proud as long as I don't have to...” she said, her hopes plummeting at the sight of Giles coming down the hall.
“Buffy!”
“...fight vampires,” she groaned as she focused on the older gentleman.
“There is nothing in the chronicles about a-an extraneous lunar cycle.”
“The Order never accurately calculated the Mesopotamian Calendar. Rupert, you have *got* to read something that was published after 1066,” argued Jenny with a grin.
“Very funny,” he drawled before shaking himself and turning to his charge.
“W-um, Ms. Calendar has been researching, well, uh, surfing on her computer, a-and she's... Well, according to her calculations, this Saturday is the night of St. Vigeous.”
“Let me guess: he didn't make balloon animals,” replied Buffy dryly.
“No, he led a crusade, of, of, uh, vampires. They swept through Edessa, Harran, and points east.”
“And they didn't leave much behind,” added Miss Calendar.
“Well, if I survive Parent-Teacher night tomorrow, I'll see what I can do about Saturday,” the slayer said dismissively.
“You're being a tad flip, don't you think? This is serious.”
“And getting kicked out of school is laughs aplenty?” she countered with a raised eyebrow.
“You know what happens when you, you let your life interfere with your slaying,” he complained with a reprimanding look.
“Okay, well, if my slaying doesn't get me expelled, then I promise my banner making won't get me killed, okay? Just please let me get through this week,” she pleaded, happy when he finally nodded and let the subject drop. “Ugh,” she groaned, “Snyder alert,” Buffy sighed as she glanced at Willow. This was gonna be a long day.
~~~*~~~
“The Master is dead. Someone has to take his place,” declared a burly vampire, not much more than a minion, as he paced the length of the abandoned factory.
“As long as the Slayer's alive, whoever takes his place will be sharing his grave,” said another grimly, his game face present.
“Then let the soul who kills her wear his mantle,” decided the other with a nod.
“Can you do it?” wondered Colin. He sat on a pile of crates, the boxes giving the deceptively innocent looking boy the height he was lacking.
“Yes. This weekend, the night of St. Vigeous, our power shall be at its peak. When I kill her, it'll be the greatest event since the crucifixion. And I should know. I was there,” he added with a smug grin.
“*You* were *there*?” called out a doubtful but amused voice. “Oh, please! If every vampire who said he was at the crucifixion was actually there, it would have been like Woodstock.” The trio watched the newcomer warily. The vampire was only about five feet, ten inches tall, not particularly muscled or physically imposing, but he radiated danger.
“I oughta rip your throat out,” growled the self-declared leader, taking a step toward the stranger.
“I was actually at Woodstock,” continued the bleach blonde, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his leather duster, sending them a toothy grin, his handsome face distorted by ridges and fangs. “That was a weird gig. I fed off a flower person, and I spent the next six hours watchin' my hand move,” he remembered with a wave of his pale hand.
The annoyed and disgruntled vampire he had been mocking rushed him, but the stranger wasn’t swayed, merely flinging back his fist and punching out the presumptuous vampire, knocking him to the floor. “So. Who do you kill for fun around here?”
“Who are you?” asked the Anointed One with a curious gleam in his eyes.
“Spike,” the blonde replied with a smirk, “You're that Anointed guy. I read about you. You've got Slayer problems. That's a bad piece of luck,” he commiserated with a frown. “Do you know what I find works real good with Slayers? Killing them.”
“Can you?” the boy inquired, eager to be rid of the pesky slayer.
“A lot faster than Nancy-boy there,” Spike snorted. “Yeah, I did a couple Slayers in my time. I don't like to brag. Who am I kidding? I *love* to brag! There was this one Slayer during the Boxer Rebellion, and...” The door to the factory slid open and Spike’s demonic façade slid from his face as he peered over his shoulder.
“Drusilla,” he called with a frown, extending a hand to the tired brunette. The woman, dressed in a gauzy white gown floated to him, taking his offered hand with a small smile. “You shouldn’t be walking around,” he chastised softly. “You’re weak.”
He studied her face, trying to judge her condition. There were days she was dangerously weak, could barely move around. Then there were other days she seemed like her old self, before that mess in Prague. He worried about her these days. They had a strange relationship. Ever since Angelus up and left him, Dru had become increasingly dependent on his help. He had no problem being there for her, but there were times when he longed for a solitary existence. But still, she was his sister, in the vampiric sense, family, and he wouldn’t abandon her like their sire did. He used to wonder why they never really became more than friends, but he knew the answer. The broken woman before him only loved Angelus, and Spike had no desire to try and fill their sire’s position in her heart.
“Look at all the people,” she cooed, staring at the small group before her. “Are they nice people?”
“We’re getting along,” he assured her with a sad smile. Taking a deep, unneeded breath, he turned back to Colin. “Me and Dru, we're movin' in. Now, any of you want to test who's got the biggest wrinklies 'round here... step on up. I'll do your Slayer for you. But you keep your flunkies from tryin' anything behind my back. Deal?” The boy nodded and Spike released a pleased grin.
“I can’t see her,” whined Dru, her hand going to her temples. “The slayer. I can’t see. It’s dark where she is. Kill her. Kill her, Spike. Kill her for Princess?”
“It’s done,” he hushed her, pulling her hands away from her pretty face. “So, how ‘bout this slayer. Is she tough?”
~~~*~~~
The Bronze was packed that night but Willow had managed to secure a table for her and Buffy. After all, she had promised to help the slayer with her French. She had even been able to convince Xander to come, not that he was speaking to her. Instead, he was on the dance floor, flailing to the music as only he could. Angel was still a no-show, no big surprise there.
“La vache...doit me...touche...de la...jeudi. Was it wrong, should I use the plural?” asked Buffy nervously, glancing up at Willow.
“No, but you said ‘The cow should touch me from Thursday’,” the redhead admitted, barely restraining a laugh.
“Maybe that’s what I was feeling,” she argued pathetically.
“And you said it wrong.”
“Oh, je stink,” Buffy sighed pitifully. Willow smiled and looked back at the dance floor, searching absently for Xander.
“It’s okay, I think it’s just Angel missage. Why don’t we take a break, maybe dance? We can’t leave Xander out there alone, he might injure someone,” she teased as the blonde brightened. Buffy hopped out of her chair, pulling the redhead behind her eagerly.
The girls joined Xander and to the witch’s amazement, he seemed more relaxed and at ease. The slayer was never even aware of the blue eyes watching the trio’s movements with interest. Xander had decided to ignore everything but the music and dancing with Buffy that he didn’t notice it either, but Willow was well aware and snuck a glance over her shoulder, pausing when her eyes met with stormy blue. Their eyes locked and she swore she could see a flare of recognition in those icy depths but she ignored it. Looking away quickly, the redhead tried to ignore the vampire’s presence and focus on her friends.
A shuffling was heard behind her and Buffy immediately perked up when she heard a man’s voice speaking urgently. “Where’s the phone? I need to call the police. There’s some big guy out there trying to bite somebody.”
Her slayer instincts kicking in, Buffy ditched Xander, practically running outside. The brunette turned to Willow, looking almost sad and resigned. She understood, it was all the same. They both vividly remembered this night. The night they met Spike…William the Bloody.
He went to Buffy’s purse, not fumbling with the items inside at all, instead finding the stake immediately and following Willow out the door.
The slayer was pummeling a rather tall but unimpressive vampire, but he caught her off guard and stunned her with a punch, causing Willow to flinch at the impact.
“I don’t need to wait for St. Vigeous. You’re mine,” he growled, but Buffy wasn’t fazed. She hit him again, the force of it knocking him back, causing him to panic a bit. “Spike! Gimme a hand!” Buffy glanced behind but she could see no one in the shadows.
“Buffy!” Xander called, tossing her a stake quickly as she dusted the anonymous vampire. As the blonde dusted herself off, clapping could be heard. Willow and Xander didn’t even need to search the darkness, they knew exactly where Spike was hiding. Their gazes finding him immediately, Buffy followed their lead, looking confused as a bleach blonde stood before them.
“Nice work, love,” he teased, a smirk on his handsome face. Willow reached for Xander’s hand, holding it tightly as they looked at the British vampire. They had to remember, this wasn’t Spike with a soul or a chip. This was the Spike that wanted them dead with a fiery passion. He wouldn’t hesitate to drain them in a second and no matter how many years they had spent fighting vamps, he was a Master, a slayer of slayers. They wouldn’t stand a chance against him.
“Who are you?” Buffy demanded, taking a step back toward the redhead and brunette.
“You’ll find out on Saturday,” he told her with a devilish grin, barely granting the other two people a passing glance.
“What happens on Saturday?” she asked, although she was pretty sure she didn’t want to know.
“I kill you…” Willow whispered to herself as the bleach blonde spoke those same words, causing Spike to look up suddenly, studying her curiously. He ran his tongue across his bottom lip; his eyes narrowing as he blatantly stared at the redhead. He felt like something was missing, like he should know who she was, but his mind could only draw blanks. But she was a curious one. She looked so innocent, nothing more than some ordinary teenager. But he could feel the power pouring off of her which gave him pause. He could smell her fear and nervousness, but she fixed him with a hard stare. There was definitely more to this one than meets the eye.
Willow nearly smacked herself when she echoed Spike’s threat. Only he had heard her, vampire hearing and all. Now he was looking at her with that intense gaze and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Xander’s eyes darted from Spike to Willow and back anxiously. He didn’t know what had grabbed the blonde vampire’s interest, but he really didn’t like the way Spike was looking at Willow.
Deciding he was done for the night, Spike cast one final considering glance at the redhead before winking and fading into the night. For Willow, there was only one thought that came to mind. Oh, crap.
Buffy ran back inside the club for her purse as Xander waited for her at the door. Willow was looking around nervously for any sign of Spike, if he was even in the area any longer. The brunette glanced back at his shaky friend, his brow furrowed as he wondered what was bothering her so much. It couldn’t just be the sight of the sarcastic blonde vampire. But what it was he didn’t know.
“Come on,” said the slayer as she hurried out the door and down the alleyway. “We’ve got to go see Giles. He might have a clue who our new friend is.” Xander reluctantly followed, Willow a step behind him.
As a cold chill swept over the witch once more, she hazarded a glance over her shoulder. “Welcome back Spike,” she muttered before running to catch up with the slayer.
With a rustling of his leather duster, Spike stepped out of the shadows and under the streetlight, the yellow glow making him look sickly. He watched the small group walk briskly away from the Bronze, the girl’s parting words ringing through his head. So, she knew who he was, made things interesting. At least his stay at the hellmouth wouldn’t be boring. With a sinister smirk on his face he found his last cigarette, lighting it and taking in a lungful of smoke. “Well, hello to you too Red…”
~Part: 9~
“Spike? That’s what the other vampire called him?” murmured Giles with a furrowed brow. “That’s a little unorthodox, isn’t it?”
“Maybe he’s reformed,” declared Buffy with an exasperated glance to her watcher.
“Perhaps he went by another name in…times past?” the librarian suggested tentatively.
“Well, whoever he is, we’ll need all the help we can come this Saturday,” interjected Jenny with a sober expression.
“Well, he can’t be any worse than any other creature you’ve faced,” decided Giles with a determined nod to his slayer.
“He’s worse,” warned Angel as he pushed open the doors to the library. Willow couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his entrance. Angel always did have a penchant for the dramatic. She heard Xander stifle an amused snort and knew he felt the same way. “Once he starts something he doesn’t stop until everything in his path is dead.” And he had the nerve to complain that she had a tendency to speak in ominous warnings. Hypocrite.
“We were at the Bronze before,” Buffy started almost shyly. “Thought you said you might show.”
“You said you weren’t sure if you were going,” he replied with a grin.
“She was being cool, you doof,” interrupted Xander, knowing where this conversation was going and having no desire bear witness to it yet again. “You’ve been dating for…what…two hundred years and you still don’t know what a girl means when she says she’ll show? Sad, deadboy, very sad.” Buffy took a moment to glare at Xander before Giles stepped in.
“Um, we do have slightly more urgent matters to discuss. Angel, do you know if this Spike fellow goes by any other name?” he asked, looking up from his book to see that Angel had vanished, the swinging double doors left in his wake.
“Try William the Bloody,” suggested Willow quietly. Xander sighed and fell into a chair that was resting by the table. Running a hand over his face, he shook his head.
“William…the…” Giles muttered to himself as he flipped through pages quickly, bypassing tons of useless information. “Bloody…” His face became ashen as he found the pages he was looking for.
“What is it, Giles?” questioned Buffy as she hopped up on the table, looking eagerly to her watcher.
“He’s not very old, not even as old as Angel,” he replied, “dear lord.”
“What?” she demanded, “Don’t keep us in suspense here.”
“It says William the Bloody, also known as Spike, earned his nickname by torturing his victims with railroad spikes. He has fought two slayers in his lifetime,” he admitted reluctantly, glancing down at his slayer with a nervous frown. “And he’s killed them both.”
“Oh, fun,” said Buffy, a chill making its way down her back. Willow took a step forward, taking the blonde’s hand into her own and squeezing it reassuringly.
“So what’s the plan, Rupert?” asked Jenny, looking to Buffy with an air of sympathy. “I mean, if St. Vigeous is Saturday, and Spike is the host of their little party, what should we do?”
“I wouldn’t worry about Saturday just yet,” said Willow.
“And when would be a good time to worry about Saturday, Willow?” Giles barked sharply, fear of losing his slayer causing him to lash out.
“I’m just saying…” she sighed, looking Xander for help, but his face remained impassive. “Spike doesn’t seem like the type to sit around and twiddle his thumbs. Who’s to say he’ll wait until Saturday to make his move. He seems impulsive, impatient. Trust me, Giles. Call it…a hunch, if you want, but his attack is going to come sooner than Saturday.”
“You’re suggesting I make plans based on a hunch?” he asked incredulously.
“Has she led you astray yet?” interrupted Xander abruptly. Willow turned to face him, a small smile on her face at his automatic defense of her. “You may doubt our abilities to…predict things, but never once have we led you down the wrong path. Know that we both care about Buffy, a lot. Neither one of us would do or say anything to jeopardize her safety. So if Willow tells you that you need to forget about Saturday, then do it.”
The librarian was silent for a moment before nodding, removing his glasses and cleaning them furiously.
“So what do you suggest we do?” the eldest asked Willow, a tinge of bitterness in his voice at the thought of asking a child for help.
“Just…don’t worry about Saturday,” she replied. “Right now, all Buffy needs to focus on is Parent-Teacher night tomorrow,” she added with a glance to the blonde.
“And keeping my mom away from Principal Snyder tomorrow night,” the slayer added with a grimace.
“Way to prioritize Buff,” teased Willow. The redhead let go of the slayer’s hand and grabbed her purse, Xander taking his cue from her and standing. “I think we’re gonna head out, just do me a favor Buffy,” she pleaded gently. “Tomorrow night, just…be on alert.”
Buffy smiled brightly but Willow could see the seriousness in her eyes as she nodded her agreement. “Night guys,” the witch called out as she and Xander headed out the double doors.
~~~*~~~
“Miss Edith speaks out of turn,” muttered Drusilla with a pout as turned her precious doll around, eyes facing the wall of the factory. “She's a bad example, and will have no cakes today. Shhhh.”
“Pet, are you going to eat something?” wondered Spike as he closed the bedroom door behind him, blocking all the chanting and murmurs coming from the rest of the factory. He was still worried about her; she looked sickly even for a vampire. But at least she was up and about, entertaining herself with her dolls.
“I'm not hungry,” she mumbled stubbornly. “I miss Prague,” she complained with a frown.
“You nearly died in Prague,” he reminded her sharply. “Idiot mob. This is the place for us. The hellmouth will restore you,” he declared with a grin, “put color in your cheeks, metaphorically speaking, and in a few weeks' time...”
“The stars will align, and smile down on us,” she cooed, her eyes clouding over as she began to slowly sway to music only she could hear as Spike looked on with a slight smile.
“And then, God, this town will burn,” he chuckled eagerly. It would be like old times, death and destruction. The only thing missing was Angelus, but their sire hadn’t been in the picture for a long time.
“A pretty fire!” she giggled as he took her hand and led her to the bed that dominated the room, encouraging her to rest.
“They're preparing,” Drusilla informed him softly, looking up at him as he took a seat on the side of the bed. She looked up at him adoringly. He was all she had, her protector, her brother, her Spike.
“St. Vigeous is coming up. Should be a party,” he shrugged. He glanced over his shoulder to the tied up girl in the corner, shaking and scared. She wasn’t anything special, just some high school kid he found outside the Bronze but he thought she would make a good meal for Dru. He couldn’t even remember her name…Sharon, no, Sheila, that was it.
“You should go up with them and cleanse,” suggested the lithe brunette.
“Dru...” he groaned unhappily. He never liked these stupid rituals vampires insisted on performing.
“The boy doesn't trust you,” she told him with a steady gaze. “They follow him.” Her attention wavered, as it did on occasion. Her fingers played with the ends of her hair, staring at them in fascination. “I think sometimes that all my hair will fall out and I'll be bald,” she declared, her eyes distant.
“Never happen,” he promised with a sad smile. “Alright. I'll go up and get chanty with the fellas,” he compromised, “but *you* got to do me one favor.” Pushing himself off the mattress, he strode to the bound figure of Sheila, grinning as Dru stood and stalked closer to them. “Eat something,” he ordered, pushing the girl toward Drusilla who caught her easily.
“You see, Miss Edith?” taunted Dru as Spike left the room deciding only to spend a few minutes ‘bonding’ with the rest of the vamps before heading out into town once more, shutting the door firmly behind him. “If you'd been good you could watch with the rest.”
~~~*~~~
Willow sighed as she and Xander cut through the park on their way back to her house. He was gazing at the stars above, looking as if he was searching for answers to questions he couldn’t name. She knew he was tense, as was she, especially with the reappearance of Spike. But she was tired of seeing her best friend so down without knowing what she could do to help him, she needed a distraction.
“Hey Xan,” she broke into his thoughts softly. “Do you think you can make it back on your own?”
“I’ve got my stakes and holy water,” he replied with a shrug. “Shouldn’t be a problem. Why? What have you got planned?”
“I’m gonna do a quick patrol, release some of this pent up energy, you know?” she told him, hoping he wouldn’t mind. He nodded and smiled a little to assure her he was fine with it.
“Just be careful, will you?” he demanded gently. “I need my Wills, okay?”
“You got it,” she smiled at him, kissing him on the cheek as pushing him ahead of her. She watched him walk away, shaking herself as he disappeared into the night. She did a quick survey of the area, not seeing anything out of the ordinary, but looks could be deceiving.
Taking a deep breath, the redhead closed her eyes, letting the magic it had taken her so long to learn to control take over, enhancing her senses. Her eyelids fluttered open, her normally green eyes had bled into black. Two things grabbed her attention immediately. Vampires, one coming from her right, close but not visible just yet. The other gave off a stronger aura, possibly a Master, coming from her left. Unlike the other, he wasn’t on the move, instead, he lingered in the distance. She was filled with distinct feeling that he was watching her, studying her. The other one was probably hungry.
Spinning abruptly, she shot one hand out, her voice strong, yet not exactly her own as she saw the minion running toward her, its eyes gleaming. “Thicken!” she commanded, causing the vampire to bounce off the invisible barrier with a furious growl.
The redhead strolled confidently toward the snarling vamp, looking him over with a shake of her head as her stake slid out of its hiding place up her sleeve.
“You know, they don’t make vampires like they used to,” she told him conversationally. “Fledglings these days, never much of a challenge,” Willow sighed. With a wave of her hand the barrier fell and the young vamp stumbled before catching himself. She just looked on as the brunette found his balance and lunged forward, eyes on her throat.
His growl turned into a shocked gasp when he felt the deadly piece of wood enter his chest, piercing his heart. Willow pulled back, watching as the burly vampire disintegrated before her eyes.
“Pathetic,” she mumbled, disappointed that he didn’t put up much of a fight.
“Right you are,” declared a voice from behind her, the familiar British accent causing her to stiffen. “It’s a shame, really. Minions are so bloody thick nowadays.”
She turned slowly on her heel, keeping her guard up as Spike stepped onto the pathway, boots thudding on the ground harshly in the silence, his form practically glowing in the moonlight. He was dressed in his standard red and black, duster and all. She never had the opportunity to really look at him before. Sure there were the times he kidnapped her or tried to bite her, and all those times after he got his chip and then the soul, but he was different then. When he first arrived in Sunnydale, he seemed unbeatable, radiating danger and evil. At least that was one thing that hadn’t changed.
“But then again, he was one of *my* minions,” he continued with a smirk, “so I suppose I should be a bit pissed you staked him, eh?” She had to fight her instincts to retreat as he took a step forward, still a few feet away. The blonde cocked his head to the side, observing her with a speculative grin. “Why so scared, little Red? Seemed like you were looking for a challenge and I’ve been told I’m quite the challenge,” he teased, biting his lip rakishly.
“I’m not scared of you,” she countered, arms crossed over her chest. But she knew he could tell she was lying, her hands were shaking and he could practically smell her fear. He merely smiled in amusement.
“Whatever you say Red,” he chuckled. He looked her up and down, eyes narrowing.
“Who are you? You’re not a slayer,” he announced with a raised eyebrow. “So I’m wondering what a little girl like you is doing out here, all alone, in the middle of the night, lookin’ for vamps to dust. And all that power, it’s just pouring off you, love. How did a teenager like you become so powerful?”
She sighed, annoyed that he seemingly decided to make conversation. She wasn’t in the mood for this. “It’s none of your business. But I am powerful enough to defend myself against the likes of you, consider that fair warning. Besides, shouldn’t you be heading back to Drusilla, Spike? She is the love of your unlife after all.”
He became unnaturally still at the mention of Dru. “Now that is none of *your* business,” he warned lowly. “You know me? Dru? How? We haven’t met before tonight. I’d definitely remember you,” he purred. She opened and closed her mouth but no words came out. “Answer before I lose my patience, pet,” he demanded, his eyes cold.
“Y-You’re Spike,” she replied, scrambling for a reasonable explanation. “William the Bloody, I’ve uh, read about you. I sorta snuck a peek at the Watcher’s Diaries.” She felt a little more at ease when he stopped glaring at her, now looking at her curiously.
“Naughty girl. You’ve read about me, eh? So, what have they written? Anything interesting?” he wondered, enjoying the opportunity to find out what all those poncy watchers had written about him. He always had been an arrogant demon. He supposed he got it from Angelus.
“Y-You were sired by-y Drusilla, um, Angelus is your grandsire,” she rattled on, never noticing the knot forming in his brow or the confusion strewn across his handsome face. “Uh, you killed two slayers. One during the Boxer Rebellion and another in New York, in the 70’s I think. One of the most feared vampires in history. You’re in love with Drusilla, who’s insane. Oh, and you were part of the legendary Scourge of Europe…”
“Seem to have your facts a bit mixed up, love,” he interrupted, a considering gleam in his eye. He wondered how those watchers got everything so wrong.
“No! No, I don’t have my facts mixed up!” she declared, not caring that she was raising her voice to a Master vampire. “Angelus sired Drusilla after he drove her crazy. And then she begged him to let her turn someone, a childe of her own. That was you. That’s the truth.”
“No, it’s not,” he growled, reminding her to watch her tone. “My sire is *Angelus*,” he informed her, “And I’m not in love with Drusilla, the woman’s a bloody loon in case you didn’t know.”
“What?” she whispered, her hands tightening their grip on her stake as she backed away from his still form, her head shaking in the negative. “No, no, no,” she repeated, almost laughing hysterically. “You’re lying. Tell me you’re lying,” she pleaded, but he merely looked on with one raised eyebrow, obviously surprised by her outburst. “Oh no, *no*. That’s not right, not right at all,” she muttered, glancing up into his blue eyes before they darted away from him. He had to be lying to her. Spike had always been in love with his sire, with Drusilla. She didn’t understand what he was saying, it couldn’t be true. The spell couldn’t change the past, only return them to it and yet Spike, his life, was so different. This was bad, so very bad. She needed to find Xander and needed to find him now.
Spike watched, hands in his pockets as she stumbled away from him, lost in her own little world. He sighed in boredom. He had come here looking for a snack when he caught her scent on the breeze. She had caught his attention earlier at the Bronze and he was interested to know who she was, why she seemed so familiar to him. He still had no clue who she was or why she was associated with the slayer and now it looked like he wouldn’t be getting any answers. She was too busy talking to herself to even acknowledge him. He swore inwardly, what was it about him and crazy women? They just seemed to gravitate to him.
“I’ve gotta go,” she decided numbly before turning and running out of the park in the direction of the nearest residential area, not giving him time to argue.
With a growl of displeasure he turned, his duster billowing behind him as he stalked back to the factory. “Bloody women…”
~Part: 10~
“Xander!” Willow shouted as she bounded through her front door. When there was still no sign of him she resorted to her ‘mother’ voice. “Alexander Lavelle Harris, downstairs now!”
The brunette stumbled down the stairs and she felt a little bad for yelling like that. He had obviously been asleep but this was important.
“I’m awake! I’m awake!” he assured her as he fell onto the sofa, face down. “What’s the big deal Wills?” he mumbled into the couch cushions.
“Drusilla isn’t Spike’s sire!” she blurted out, moving to kneel beside the couch and shaking his shoulder until he moved to look at her.
“Huh?” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes. She pulled him into a seated position and cupped his face in the palms of her hands.
“Listen to me, this is *very* important,” she demanded. He immediately sat up straighter, seeing her famous resolve face. “He said Angelus was his sire. Hell, he said he wasn’t in love with Dru!” she screeched.
“Wait,” he stopped her, “when did you have this enlightening conversation with Junior?”
“Tonight, I dusted a vamp, he was there, we got to talking,” she replied, deciding the details weren’t important. “That isn’t the point. Drusilla *was* Spike’s sire. And we all know he was in love with her, hello, drunken love spell!”
“Yeah, what’s your point?” he asked sleepily.
“Are you brain dead?! He said *Angelus* was his sire, notice anything wrong with that statement?!” It took him a minute to process everything, but when he did it was almost a physical shock.
“Are you serious?” he muttered. “That can’t be. It’s not possible, I mean, it’s just not.”
“You’re preaching to the choir,” she assured him, sinking into the sofa. “Something happened, went wrong. I don’t know what, but something did. Nothing should have changed, Xan. I didn’t mess up the spell, I know I didn’t,” she rambled nervously.
“Is he…different?” he wondered, not sure exactly what he was asking.
“No,” she denied with a frown. “Not that I really know what he was like back then. But everything else, the attitude, the clothes, he still killed those two slayers. Everything else is the same. But he told me Angelus was his sire. He told me he didn’t love Dru. What the hell happened?” she asked herself, her voice barely a whisper.
“What do we do?” he questioned tentatively, wrapping an arm around her shoulder for support. They were both freaked out by this.
“I need to have a look at the Watcher’s Diaries,” the redhead declared. “Find out if anything else changed that we don’t know about. I should take a look at Angel’s past too, who knows what may have changed with him. But it will be difficult getting them past Giles.”
“What about tomorrow? It’s Parent-Teacher night. Spike’s gonna attack then,” he reminded her.
“You were able to find Angel last time, right? He helped ‘save the day’?” At the brunette’s nod she sighed. “You stay with Giles and Jenny during the day, help them research and get ready for that night. Um, I’m gonna try and swipe his books, do some reading of my own. I want you to keep an eye on them, watch out for Buffy, for any sign of Spike as of sundown. I’ll be busy reading, but when the sun goes down, I’ll get Angel and bring him to the school. We’ll deal with Spike when we get there. That sound about right?”
“As good a plan as any,” he shrugged.
“What do we do now?” she asked weakly.
“We go to sleep,” he told her, softly but firmly. “There’s nothing we can do right now. But we need to be ready for tomorrow. Go to bed.” She nodded and let him pull her up, leading her to her room and leaving her to change and climb into bed as he slipped into the guest room. His mind was running a mile a minute. Something went wrong, but he feared it would be impossible to figure out what happened.
~~~*~~~
“For three nights the unholy ones scourge themselves into a fury, um, culminating in a savage attack on the night of St. Vigeous,” Giles muttered to himself as Jenny, Willow, Xander, and Cordelia each worked on making stakes. Buffy meanwhile was busy chopping up vegetables for that night.
“Does anybody remember when Saturday night meant date night?” wondered Xander.
“You sure don't,” replied Cordy snidely. He glared at her then returned to his work.
“Ooo! Parents start arriving in an hour,” announced Buffy as she glanced at the clock above the doors. “Okay, so, um, banners are in place, the lounge is comfy... What am I forgetting?”
“Punch?” Willow remembered.
“Punch. I need, I need punch!” the slayer exclaimed frantically. Things had to be perfect tonight, nothing could go wrong. She dropped the knife she had been using and walked away from the table.
“My fingers are cramping,” whined Cordy, shaking her hand with a pout. “How long have I been doing this?”
“Three minutes,” answered Xander dryly, rolling his eyes.
“So, can I go now? She doesn't need this many stakes. I mean, if this guy Spike is as mean as you all said, it should be over pretty quickly,” she shrugged. Upon seeing Buffy’s incredulous glance, she hastened to clarify. “We're still all rooting for you on Saturday. I'd be there for you myself if I didn't have a leg wax.”
Buffy faked a smile and sighed. “You guys hold down the fort. I'm punch bound.” Everyone nodded absently as the blonde jogged out the door.
Willow looked around the room, seeing everyone involved in what they were doing. They were all whittling stakes with the exception of Giles. Clearing her throat softly, Willow caught Xander’s attention, nodding her head in the watcher’s direction. He stopped his work and moved to the station Buffy had set up to prepare the food.
Picking at the various vegetables and finger foods on the platter, he mad enough noise to attract the watcher’s attention.
“Xander,” sighed the librarian, putting his book down on the table. “No handling the food. We need that for the parents,” he chastised him as if he were a five year old.
“But I’m hungry,” he whined, annoyed by his own voice. He ignored the older man’s glare and started grabbing some snacks for himself. Luck was on his side as Cordelia decided she was hungry and joined in, causing the librarian to abandon his post at the table to reprimand them.
Seeing her opportunity as Xander continued to bicker with Giles and Jenny was busy, the redhead quietly grabbed her book bag. Glancing around furtively, she grabbed the two books Giles had set out, placing them into her backpack and slipping out the doors of the library, as quiet as a mouse.
When he heard the muffled ‘thump’ of the door swinging shut, Xander held up his hands and backed away from the irritated librarian, returning to his seat without a scene. Giles huffed a bit but eventually retired to his office. These children were going to be the death of him, he just knew it.
~~~*~~~
Willow left Sunnydale high, deciding to go home to start her research. She didn’t want there to be any chance of Giles figuring out she had taken his books and demand them back. She needed them more than he did. She would have just found a place in the park to read, it was still light out, if only for another half hour, but she knew she could become easily distracted. It doesn’t pay to be distracted in Sunnydale, especially after dark.
With a glance at the clock above her mantle, she saw that it was six-thirty. She wouldn’t be able to do all the research she wanted to, but right all she wanted to do was find the truth. She had to find out if Spike was really sired by Angelus. And although she knew it was pointless, she hoped the bleach blonde was lying to her.
It didn’t take long to become absorbed in her reading. The redhead’s heart sank when her fears were confirmed. Spike was the childe of Angelus. And even more disturbing, the blonde had never been in love with Drusilla. By all accounts, he protected her with his life, cared for her, but he wasn’t in love with her. This was bad. Very bad.
She had even started flipping through the many pages written about Angelus, but everything else was the same. That was what she couldn’t figure out. Why did the identity of Spike’s sire change, why did his feelings for Dru disappear, but nothing else? Angel’s life progressed as she had remembered, it was the same with Spike; only those two details were different. It just didn’t make any sense.
Sighing in frustration, she slammed the book closed. She had done all the reading she could and yet things still didn’t make any sense. As if she was just now aware of her surroundings, she noticed how dark her living room was, the only light coming from her lamp on the end table. She dared to look at the clock, dismayed when she saw the time. It was eight-thirty. She was an hour late. Crap.
Pushing all the books and papers off of her, she searched frantically for her keys. Once she found them she scrambled out the front door, breaking out into a dead run to Angel’s apartment. She just hoped she wasn’t too late.
~~~*~~~
“You're starting to look a little slagged. What, are you just skipping foundation entirely now?” wondered Cordelia as she strode up to Buffy who was keeping herself busy pouring the lemonade. Things had been going well so far. Parent-Teacher night had been going on for an hour now and Xander had managed to successful keep her mother from running in to any of her teachers. Things were looking up.
“Cordelia,” Buffy sighed in exhaustion. “I have at least three lives to contend with, none of which really mesh. It's kind of like oil and water and a... third unmeshable thing.”
“Yeah, and I can see the oil,” remarked Cordy with a small smile. “Is that your mom?” she inquired, looking past the slayer. “Now that is a woman that knows how to moisturize. Did it, like, skip a generation?”
“Well, I believe that I have seen every classroom on campus, and just as I get there all your teachers miraculously have stepped out,” declared Mrs. Summers as she and Xander joined the twosome. Buffy smiled brightly at her mother, but it quickly faded when she caught sight of Principal Snyder.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, doing her best to distract her mom. “Oh. Um, but you haven't seen the boiler room yet. And, you know, that's really interesting, what with the boiler being in the room and all.” Joyce gave her a strange look as she felt someone approach them behind her.
“Hi,” she greeted the small man beside her, extending her hand which was ignored. “I'm Joyce Summers. I'm Buffy's mother.”
“Principal Snyder,” the little troll informed her with a look of disdain. “I'm afraid we need to talk. My office is down here.” Joyce glanced at her daughter with a frown before following him away from the lounge.
“He didn't look very happy,” mumbled Buffy, shuffling her feet. Xander smiled sympathetically.
“When they're done talking...” started Cordelia with a sly grin.
“What?” Buffy asked hesitantly.
“My guess? Tenth high school reunion, you'll still be grounded,” she told her happily, smiling at Buffy’s pout.
About fifteen minutes went by as Buffy waited for her mother to return. She really wasn’t looking forward to the lecture that awaited her. She had an excuse for all the fights and the class cutting, but she really didn’t think her mom would take ‘I’m a vampire slayer’ as a legitimate reason, even if it was the truth.
Straightening as she saw her mother approach, a scowl on her face which was not at all attractive. Buffy swallowed nervously and looked at her feet.
“In the car, now,” Joyce ordered gruffly, Buffy merely nodding and following the older woman out of the lounge. The few people, teachers mostly along with Cordy and Xander, still lingering in the lounge began to follow their lead and started down the hall, Snyder moving off to the side to flip off the lights.
She hadn’t even made it halfway down the hall before a loud crash was heard, glass shattering violently and spraying onto the floor. Buffy jumped and turned sharply, her face paling when she saw an army of vampires pour inside the school through the broken picture window. And they were led by Spike. Looked like Willow had been right, Spike was an impatient one.
He took a step forward, his game face on as he focused on the slayer. “What can I say?” he shrugged nonchalantly. “I couldn’t wait.”