The Chosen One Trilogy

By Spurglie

Spike: Don’t you get it? Don’t you see? You came back wrong...
~ Smashed.

Buffy fell with the force of the blow, scraping her bare knees on the rough concrete. Not allowing herself the time for a whimper of pain, she leapt back to her feet and turned, always ready for the next attack. Always ready for the next step in her dance. She was tired. Alone. Afraid. It had been a while since she had been afraid and she welcomed the sensation. It kept her sharp; made her fight harder. The fear was to be cherished. It meant that she didn’t want to die.

She had been on her way home, wanting nothing more than to sink into her warm, safe bed after dutifully ending the unlife of half a dozen vampires. Satisfied that her work was done for the night, she had let her guard down. A foolish thing for a Slayer to do on the hellmouth. That was the moment when she had been attacked, and her assailant was brutal.

The demon was fast and merciless. Covered with pitch-black shiny leather for skin, he had sharp spines protruding in an arc from his head and a large metal ring hung from its chin. Intelligent burning red eyes shone at her through the darkness. He had appeared from nowhere, his first blow hard and direct, connecting painfully with the side of her face. Buffy knew from experience that she was lucky that she hadn’t been knocked unconscious there and then and made the demon’s job a whole lot easier. Seeing that she had taken the hit and was still standing, he already had the measure of her strength while she knew nothing of him – why he was attacking her, what his weaknesses were, if he was alone – only that he was here and he wanted to fight.

He had then circled her a few times as though summing her up, refusing to answer any of her impatient questions. She had thought surreally that he was actually giving her a sporting chance after the initial ambush. A nod of his oversized, asymmetrical head signalled that he had decided they would begin in earnest and he had attacked once more. Buffy struggled against a vicious assault of hard muscle and slashing knives. She met him head on, using her size to her advantage in her defence. For all of the demon’s strength and speed, the fact remained that there was more of him to physically move around. She had beaten him down time and time again for what seemed like hours, but was in reality barely ten minutes, but he simply refused to lie down and die and Buffy was fast running out of ideas.

‘Why?’ she cried, deflecting his attacks with one of his own knives. A short, well crafted blade that had felt at once alien and familiar in her hand when she had twisted it out of his grasp.

‘Why. Won’t. You. Just. Die?!’

The dark creature staggered away from her as one of her kicks hit home. He recovered immediately, and began circling her once more looking for an opening. Buffy took the reprieve as a chance to get her breath back, never taking her eyes from her opponent. He didn’t seem to be fatigued as he smiled grimly at her.

‘You are right to fear me, Buffy Summers,’ he said, speaking for the first time. ‘I have been sent by a higher power. It has been deemed that you should walk this earth no longer.’

‘What’s that?’ she asked, surprised at the well spoken demon even as she decided on her next plan of attack. ‘No “I’m stronger than you, Slayer”? No “Time to Die, Slayer”? Not even a “You can’t ever defeat me, Slayer”? We’re just cutting straight to the deeming?’

Not giving it time to answer her, she leapt through the air in a graceful, deadly arc, knocking the demon to the ground. Standing tall above it, she kicked the remaining weapon from its claw and rained down alternating punches and stabs with her blade. Catching her unawares, the creature slashed out with its long nails at her bare leg, causing Buffy to cry out in pain. As she staggered, the demon rolled onto its side and away from her.

‘Not Slayer,’ he said, moving to attack again as she struggled with her injured leg. ‘Not Slayer. Your time as the Slayer has ended. You have ascended, Buffy Summers. No longer the Slayer.’

He struck out at her suddenly, his body betraying nothing to her of his moves before he made them. She had to work hard and fast to deflect his punches and kicks away.

‘Buffy Summers. I am here to kill Buffy Summers.’

‘That’s... that’s nice. A little recognition for once,’ she hissed, ‘but the answer is still the same. Not happening.’

She attacked again, gritting her teeth against the throbbing pain in her leg. The stolen knife was lost to her as it finally struck a weak spot in his natural body armour, plunging into his chest and broke off at the hilt. Buffy spun away from him with the force of the blow, clawing desperately at him as she did so. With more luck than skill she hooked her fingers through the ring in the demon’s chin and tore it right out of his face. She landed on the other side of him, the heavy ring of metal in her hand. Out of breath and exhausted she stood ready to face him again, but the dark demon only looked at her in shock, grabbing uselessly at the black blood pouring from the wound she had inflicted on his chin.

‘You... you have killed me!’ he gasped in disbelief. Buffy watched him weaken, trying to calm her breathing. She wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t be coming back for more.

Dumb ass. I am a dumb ass. They always have a weak spot. I know that. It’s always ‘Stake the heart. Cut off the head. Smash the necklace, destroy the power centre, stab the middle eye or, uh, yank out the jumbo new age piercing thingemy’. I am a bad Vampire Slayer. I so should have caught that one sooner.

‘More will come, Buffy Summers,’ the demon told her as it slumped to the ground. ‘The Powers were not ready to send you back to this reality. More will come. It is their will.’

‘Whose will? Who is coming? Who is coming?’ she demanded, but the demon wouldn’t, or at this point, couldn’t answer her.

‘Yeah? Well... well, bring it on. You sure didn’t do such a good job,’ Buffy said, sounding braver than she felt.

‘That is my... my failing,’ the demon told her weakly, ‘and mine alone. I am merely a servant. More will come, Buffy Summers. Mark my words.’

Those strong leathery arms fell out to the demon’s sides as Buffy watched it die.

‘More... more will come.’

Buffy sat down heavily on the soft damp grass with the intention of examining her injured leg. Instead she found herself fighting back the tears as she stared at the lifeless corpse in front of her. A small part of her noticed that she was still holding the metal ring loosely in her hand, running her thumb absently over the cold dead metal.

‘God. God why can’t they just leave me alone?’

She looked up to the night sky as her tears started to fall, shaking her fist at the sky in the way that only the truly angry can manage to accomplish with aplomb. She wasn’t sure if she was simply talking to herself or praying.

‘I didn’t ask to come back, and yet I’m still here fighting for you. So why do they keep coming?’

Spike.

An unwelcome vision of her infuriating vampire lover crashed into her thoughts.

‘No. No, not this time. I won’t.’

She bowed her head onto her knees as the tears began to flow in earnest. That urge was with her again. The one that told her to run to Spike when things got too tough and to lose herself in the pleasures that he had to offer. The pleasures using the finely honed instrument of destruction that was her body; and in the promises of love and an eternity that she didn’t... couldn’t let herself believe in.

There was absolutely no way for that particular relationship to end well, and she knew it. One day Spike’s love for her would warp. She was certain of it. She was even watchful for it. He would never be able to own her body and soul. Even if she loved him back he wouldn’t own her and that was what Spike needed. It was what he craved. Sometimes she thought that he wanted to crawl up inside her very skin and fuse into her until their blood ran as one. Then he could always have someone to battle with and maybe he would never feel empty again if he could only manage to do that. Then they could always argue, always laugh, always take pleasure and pain with one another - but it was a dream. And it was his dream, not hers. Her dreams were of a forgotten love who looked into her and saw her for what she really was. A love made up of solid dolphin curves who towered above her when they would walk hand in hand or when they fought. A love that she had pushed down inside herself so completely that she wondered if she would ever touch it again.

(...Angel... Riley... Angelus...)

That love was gone. Unspoken. Taken from her. It was of the past when she was forced to survive in the present, and the present meant Spike. Beautiful, vicious, and wholly inappropriate Spike. Spike who could never own her. Even if he dared to try and turn her into a vampire to be like him, she would never truly belong to him, and on some level he knew this. It was a crazy, destructive love he held for her, but in spite of it all she was wondering if she might be addicted to his touch all the same. At least he gave her what no one else had ever dared to try. In spite of all she was, they still thought that she would break if they held her too hard; pushed her too far.

(...don't worry. If I kiss you it'll make the sun go down...)

Spike held no such reservations.

(... stay. I'm stuck here. Sun's up... can't wait to see if I freckle...)

She was standing. Her body was ready to go to him anyway and to hell with the consequences. He was at her slowly emptying house, probably waiting for her to get back from patrol. She could picture him sprawled in one of the remaining armchairs right now, watching late night TV and yelling insults at the screen. There was no mom anymore to be shocked or angry or worried at how her eldest daughter was living her life. No Willow, Tara or Amy. Just Buffy and Dawn, and now sometimes Spike. Watching over Dawn. Babysitting. Ba-by-sitting with Dawn. She still had to remind herself that it was really okay for that to be her reality, and not some twisted dream that her subconscious had invented to really freak her out. William the Bloody was alone in her home with her baby sister (...pure green energy...) and that was normal.

I could do it. I really could. I could lose myself in what he has to offer, but I won’t. I can’t, otherwise I’ll spoil everything. Nothing I’ve ever done will have meaning if I can lose myself in that. I don’t love him. I don’t think I ever could. It’s bad enough that I care about him. I save his life a hundred times a day when I should be staking him myself. I let him into my life and into my body. I even believe what he tells me is the truth. I let him tell me that he loves me. God help me I trust him, but I can’t lose myself. It’ll warp everything I’m supposed to be here for. I’ll be too weak to do my job. And that’s all that matters now.

She stood still. Not walking, not going to him. Her latest vampire lover. It was better that way. At least this time she had the option. She could be the one who left first. She didn’t have to wait for him to tire of their games and walk away from her like everyone else had done. Wasn’t she worth fighting for? Fighting was all she knew how to do.

She stood still, not knowing where to go. She was so tired. So tired. It just never ended. She was never at peace. The remnants of her anger melted into loneliness. Loneliness and misery. She was so weary of having to live the life of a hero. Weren’t heroes supposed to have the proud families? Win trophies and medals and get their picture in the papers? Meet the president? All she had to show for her unchosen vocation was a dusty broken toy umbrella and too many scars.

The umbrella. The once happy memory hurt her now. She hadn’t thought of that silly trinket for a lifetime.

Oh, and just look at Jonathon now...

With a sob, she took off at a limping run to the only place she felt that she had left to go.

Too many minutes later she stood in front of a wooden door and knocked loudly, calling his name. A light came on and the door opened, a sleepy figure appeared. He regarded her worriedly, taking in her tearstained face, dishevelled appearance and various injuries.

‘Buffy? Buffy, what happened?’

‘Xander,’ was all she could manage to say before literally falling into his arms.

‘Buffy!’ Xander gasped at the sudden slight weight in his arms. Immediately he picked her up and carried her over to sit on his unmade empty bed, leaving her only to grab the oversize first aid kit from the kitchen and a glass of water.

‘Buffy? Buff, here, drink this. Sip! Just sip it.’

He had to take a strange black metal hoop out of her hands so that she could hold the glass. She had been gripping it tightly, running her hands over and over it in a way that told him she wasn’t doing it consciously. Busying himself with bandaging the slashes on her thigh, he didn’t meet her eye. Buffy never came here when she was hurt. She always went to Giles. Or Angel. Riley ...Willow.

Oh. I get it. We’re all that’s left.

He carefully tied off the bandage and began to carefully check the rest of her for wounds.

‘Xander, it’s okay. It’s just bruises. Nothing that won’t be healed by tomorrow.’

He looked up at her, really looking at her for the first time since she had appeared at his door.

‘What’s wrong? I mean what’s really wrong? You don’t normally come here for me to patch you up for just bruises. What’s the matter, Buffy?’

(...came back a little less human than you were...)

‘Nothing. I’m fine.’ Another hot tear slipped down her cheek as they both listened to her lie.

‘Was there big bad demony badness?’

She didn’t reply. Xander tried a different approach.

‘Have you been home yet?’ he asked.

A shake of her head.

‘You want to call Dawn? Let her know you’re alright?’

‘Oh Dawnie,’ Buffy sighed. ‘Can you call? Tell here I’m here and not to worry. She’ll be okay. Spike’s playing babysitter anyway.’

‘Sure,’ Xander nodded, barely managing to mask his distaste at the thought of Spike alone in their home with Dawn. ‘‘I’ll just be a sec.’

He left her sitting on the edge of the bed to make the call and Buffy let her eyes drift close, listening to his retreating footsteps. She was just closing her eyes for a second. Just to rest them. Just for a second.

‘Buffy!’

Her eyes jerked open. Fight. She had to be ready to fight. There was a demon who...

Wait... no. Safety here. Xander. Comfort. She was at Xander’s house.

‘Hey, sleepyhead. You fell asleep there for a minute.’

‘I did?’

‘Uh huh. Sitting right here. Have you, uhh, have you not been sleeping?’ he asked awkwardly, not really knowing how to handle this strangely stoic Buffy who had appeared at his home in the middle of the night. ‘Or was tonight just a tough one?’

‘Uh, both I guess,’ she shrugged sheepishly.

‘I see. Dawn’s good. I think Spike’s letting her eat too much chocolate before bedtime. They’re watching horror movies together.’

Buffy smiled absently. Spike loved to corrupt Dawn, albeit in a relatively harmless way.

‘Uh, you hungry?’ Xander asked her. ‘Speaking of chocolate, I could make you my world famous, patent pending Xander-Harris-super-choco-deluxe-grande-mug-o-hot-chocolate? Guaranteed to soothe frazzled nerves, replenish the body’s undernourished chocolate glands and put hairs on your chest.’

Buffy shook her head. She didn’t want to eat anything. Even drinking the water had been a struggle after the first soothing gulp. Seeing that he had failed to raise a smile, Xander sat gingerly on the edge of his bed.

‘No chocolate, huh? This sounds serious.’

She only glanced at him from under her lashes, then let her gaze skitter away to intently examine the patterns on Xander’s blankets. She was beginning to wonder if coming here was such a good idea. She didn’t want to be cheered up or even have to act as though she was being cheered up. She wanted to hide under the covers where the monsters under her bed couldn’t get to her. She wanted to sleep like the dead so that she would be ready to fight again when they came for her.

And apparently they would be coming. A little birdy with shiny black leather skin and a funky demonic chin piercing had informed her of that. Oh yes, they would be coming for Buffy Summers. She had to be ready for when they got here because she was going to have to fight them alone. There was no one left to stand by her side. Her friends and family had left her one by one. And who was left? Only a neutered vampire, a sister she couldn’t protect... and Xander.

‘You’re doing a good job of freaking me out here, Buff. You’re the strong one, remember?’ Xander laid what he hoped was a comforting hand on the knee of her uninjured leg. ‘Tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.’

‘You can’t help. Not this time.’

‘Aw shucks, that’s what you always say, but every so often I end up surprising you. Try me.’

Buffy sighed and shook her head slightly. With a heavy heart, Xander recognised what he was seeing. Buffy had been defeated by something. He had seen it when Buffy had died for the first time and tried to push all her friends away from her because she was too terrified to go on. He had seen it when Angel had become Angelus and then once again when Angel had left her for good. He had seen it when Buffy’s mom had died. He had seen it when Riley had left. He had seen it when Glory had taken Dawn from them. He had seen it when Buffy had sung her heart out to them about being snatched right out of heaven itself. He had seen it when Giles announced that he was leaving them again. It had always taken something big to beat this girl down. Xander took her hand for moral support and swallowed nervously as Buffy closed her eyes and steeled herself to make her admission.

‘I’m not human,’ she said finally in a voice so tiny that Xander was sure he had misheard her.

‘Oh. Uh... what?’

‘I’m not human. When I came back from... wherever I was, the spell did something to me. I’m not human. Tar... Tara checked the spell you guys did out for me and said that there was nothing different, but still I’m not...’

‘That’s... that’s crazy. Are you having post resurrection anxiety again?’ he asked, only half seriously, ‘because it’s perfectly understandable if you are. But, ah, this is kinda far out there, Buff. I mean, of course you’re human. I mean if Tara... if she said so... You’re like... like über-human, that’s all. Nothing’s different, right? I-I haven’t noticed anything different an-and changes like that usually come with some noticeable side effects,’ he paused with a frown, trying to find the right words to both explain and soothe. ‘I mean I know you have major issues with a lot... a lot of things right now, but...’

(...you’re wrong...)

‘Spike,’ she interrupted. ‘Spike can hit me again. His chip’s working just fine, but he can hit me. I’m not human.’

‘What?!’ Xander was astonished. ‘Spike’s been hitting you?! And he’s not dust?’ he frowned. ‘And isn’t he supposedly in love with you? Tuh. That’s vampires for you.’

‘You’re kind of missing the point. He can hit me. No searing brain pain for him. Because I’ve changed.’

‘You haven’t ch...’ he stopped midsentence, sensing that this wasn’t what Buffy wanted to hear, and provoking an argument with her right now, no matter how good his intentions were, also didn’t seem the right thing to do.

‘When... when did this all happen?’ he asked her, fighting to keep his voice even.

‘A few weeks ago,’ she said blankly. ‘He pissed me off on purpose to start a fight; I hit him, he hit me back. We fought. We... we had sex. The house fell down. I hate him. I hate myself and I’m. Not. Human,’ she whispered, the accursed words catching in her throat.

‘You... oh. Ohh.’

It was all he could manage to say. A little different to what his brain was screaming, which was more like - Spike! Spike! You had sex with Spike! With Spike! Evil, soulless Spike! And there were no spells. Nobody’s will was being done an-an-and nobody was a robot! You did this on purpose! Have you lost your mind!? No wonder you’ve been so weird recently and so has he and oh god all those bruises... but that means - urgghh, permission to barf now please. Exercising. Spike’s naked exercising! Just at the time when Buffy was invisible. And disappearing all night! And making Dawn late for school so she could... Early morning spanking with spatulas in the kitchen! Yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck, mental pictures! Mental pictures!

Xander stared at her open-mouthed, having to take a moment for this new information to sink in.

Oh and one more thing. The house fell down? A whole house? Daaamn.

Xander realised that he was winding up for a huge lecture, but one look at the pain evident on her face and the words died in his throat. She didn’t need lectures. She needed help. He’d promised himself a long time ago not to judge Buffy’s extracurricular activities in the bedroom department anymore, unless there was a just and valid reason for it. Until now there hadn’t been an occasion to test this promise out. Parker had been both human, an asshole and suitably punished for his transgressions by being very, very unconscious when Cave-Buffy had knocked him out for being an asshole. Then there had been Riley. Riley was just fine and dandy in Xander’s books. Good for Buffy and finally a guy for Xander to drink beer with on occasion. Riley knew the deal about the Slayer, hated Angel on sight and was basically an all round good guy. Fine and dandy. Right up until the time he had left Sunnydale and made Buffy miserable all over again.

Now this. Gross sex activities with Spike – Evil Spike. I Hate You All Spike. As Soon As This Chip Comes Out I’m Going To Eat Your Livers For Breakfast Spike. Look At Me I’m So Sodding British and Bad Boy Punklike With My Peroxide ‘Do, Perfect Everlasting Muscles and Ten Thousand Year Old Leather Coat Spike. Get Me More Wheetabix So I Can Disgust You All By Eating It With My Blood Spike. I Made A Robot Version Of You And Shagged It ‘Til I Was Knackered Spike – marched right up to the imaginary line Xander had drawn in the sand and pulled rude faces his just and valid reasons, but still he held his accusations back. Practically everyone he knew had had sex with a demon at some point. The fact that Xander himself had never known a simple ordinary human woman in the biblical sense was not lost on him. So Willow’s spell had made him a demon magnet? He wondered sometimes if that hadn’t always been the case and he didn’t need any help from magic on that front. High school had been a monster minefield as far as Xander’s lovelife had been concerned. And what about Anya? One of the oldest evil demonic forces they had ever encountered, and he had nearly married her.

Who was he to point the finger of accusation?

Not about me. Not about me. Focus on Buffy. She needs me and I can’t judge her anymore because I’m so far into shades of grey that I may as well have gone colour blind. Not that I ever really had the right to judge her in the first place, but let’s just put that down to childhood over-enthusiasm and move on, shall we?

I guess it’s significant that she came here and not to him though, right? Her newest vampire boyfriend? She said she hates him. I guess that’s a good thing.

And yet I kept coming back to the little fact that the house fell down. A house. Are we talking all of it? Or was it more like a couple of rooms? Maybe part of the roof? Was that during or after? And also...

Focus! Gee, Xander, wanna leave the choking on your own bitter bile until after we’ve helped Buffy? She came here because she needs me. Maybe because we’re all that we have left and this so isn’t about Spike and she said she doesn’t love him. ‘Hate’ I think was her word of choice. So take a peek at the bigger picture for once. Somebody’s found a new and improved method of torturing Buffy, mostly thanks to some Willow, Tara, Anya and Xander dabbling in magic they didn’t really understand. Now she’s been kicked out of heaven and thinks she’s not human anymore. Why don’t you try focusing on that instead of who she’s currently getting a happy with? I guess some things will just never stop hurting me. Even if it is – ick. Really ick – Spike.

‘I have nowhere to go,’ she admitted. ‘Nowhere to run. I’ve always fought so hard and now in spite of it all, in spite of everything I’ve given up, it’s all crumbling around me anyway. It’s all falling apart. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to bother you. I know this is a hard time for you too, with Anya leaving an’ all, but I just... I needed to talk to someone that I knew would understand. That I could still trust. You. You were there from the start and I just... I can’t...’

(...poor little lost girl. She doesn’t fit in anywhere. She’s got no one to love...)

‘Buffy. Buff. Stop it. Shhh. Stop it,’ he soothed her, pulling her into his arms and unconsciously began stroking her hair. His friend had come to him for help. She was in pain and she was starting to hate herself for the inexcusable sin of not managing to be perfect all the time. She would never be able to see herself like others saw her. Through all of it, through all of the little moments with their laughter, their jokes and their tears was a woman stronger than anyone he had ever known. She was allowed her mistakes because she always made good on her promises. She always saved them and fought for them even when they didn’t deserve it. She gave her heart and her soul and her life so freely to anyone who needed it from her. To those she loved and to those she thought it was her duty to save. To all those millions of souls.

This was what he saw in those small moments that blindsided him. When he remembered that there was so much wrapped up inside this tiny bundle in his arms. So many Buffys from so many different moments in their lives, and he loved all of them. That was what he saw.

(...me like Buffy. Buffy's alive, so me glad...)

‘You don’t get it, do you?’ he asked her softly.

‘Get what?’ she asked him through her tears.

‘That it all has to end sooner or later.’

‘What does?’

‘All your pain.’

‘It... it does?’ She looked up at him hopefully.

‘Uh huh. Don’t you see what I see?’

She shook her head and stared at him with wide eyes.

‘Buffy,’ he said, smoothing her tangled hair back from her face. ‘So you say you’re not human. Big deal. I’m like the only one left. It’s my thing, y’know?’ he said lightly with a smile in his eyes as she gazed up at him. ‘But you? You were always special. Seems to me that there’s only one thing you could be now.’

‘What’s that? Living on borrowed time?’

(...poor little lost girl...)

‘No,’ he said, almost fiercely. ‘Never that. You’re going to go on forever, Buffy. What I see isn’t something bad, or something wrong. You’ve become something... more, that’s all.’

‘Xander, I don’t understand what you’re talking about.’

‘You. I’m talking about you. I think you’ve been chosen.’

A sigh got stuck halfway out of her mouth as she valiantly fought back another sob. ‘I-I was always the Chosen One. That’s what got me in trouble in the first place.’

‘No,’ he shook his head slightly. ‘I don’t mean that. Not the Slayer.’

(...not the Slayer... Buffy Summers...)

‘You were in heaven,’ Xander continued. ‘Now you’re not. You’re back on earth, fighting the good fight again. The righteous fight against all the demons we’re unlucky enough to share space with. Think about it.’

‘What Xander? Think about what?’

‘Don’t you get it? Don’t you see? You think you know what you are? What’s to come? You haven’t even begun.’

Buffy’s eyes widened as he spoke the familiar words. The words that Xander could never have known, but she had heard before, both in her tangled dreams and in her waking hours by demons who thought that they could control her.

But Xander, dear, sweet, brave, wise, well meaning, uncontrolling Xander said them all the same.

‘Xander?’

‘Look inside yourself, Buff. You have to be able to see what I see. You’re an angel.’

‘What about Angel?’

‘No, not Angel. You. I mean that you’re an angel.’

‘Thanks Xander,’ she finally smiled. ‘You’re sweet.’

‘No,’ he grasped her shoulders firmly and turned her so that she was facing him to make her see just how serious he was. ‘I mean, you’re an angel.’

Her smile faded. ‘I’m... I’m what?’

‘An angel,’ he smiled gently at her, ‘and trust me, I get the irony. But think about it – Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Suffers unfortunate and untimely death to save the universe. Goes to heaven. Is resurrected. Back on earth. More fighting for the good. Discovers she’s no longer human but remains fundamentally unchanged.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s not such a giant leap of faith, y’know.’

She turned her face away, his earnest expression too bright to look at.

‘Xander, don’t joke with me. Not now.’

‘Does it look like I’m joking? Do you think I could joke right now? You were right. It’s all falling apart. Again. Man, I just hate it when it does that.’

He grimaced at the expression on her face.

‘Okay, so apparently I can still joke a little. Very badly. But what I mean is, I’m being serious. In the middle of all the crazy badness that is our lives, you shine through. It’s what you do. And unless there’s some type of demon we don’t know about who could have taken your face and your heart and your soul and kept right on saving everybody and being the Buffy that I know and love; then it’s still just you in there, right?’ he asked, gently tapping the spot on her chest just over where her heart was beating.

‘Riiight,’ she said hesitantly.

‘Right,’ he said more firmly. ‘I can’t take any more bad news from God, or the heavens or all the little mini gods and goddesses that are running around, and I don’t think that even they could be that heartless to keep on messing with you after everything that you’ve already lost and everything you’ve been through. What I think is that they liked what they saw when you visited with them and they made you one of their own.’

Fresh tears ran down Buffy’s cheeks making Xander have to fight that little bit harder to stop his own from falling.

‘You’re an angel, Buffy,’ he said with a smile that told her this was the most obvious thing in the world, ‘and even if it’s not official, it’s a good enough explanation for me.’

‘Xander,’ she managed to say after a moment of struggling to find her voice, ‘how do you manage to make everything okay? I didn’t think anything could make me feel any better.’

‘It’s my job. It has been for years. I bring the donuts, carry the heavy weapons and I cheer up the heroes. I cheer up my friends.’

‘I... I...’

(...poor little lost girl...)

‘Listen, you don’t have to say anything. It’s the next logical step in my mind. You’ve always been there for me. For us. Even when you’re not you, you’re still the hero. Our champion. Every single person on this planet owes their lives to you, a dozen times over. How could you not be an angel? There’s never been anyone like you before. There probably won’t ever be again.’

Buffy couldn’t answer him. She just didn’t have the words. She also couldn’t look into his eyes anymore. His belief in her was just too overwhelming. Instead she slipped her arms around his waist and curled up to his side where they sat on the edge of his bed, her head resting on his broad shoulder. He held her like that until she calmed and could feel her depleted energy pushing her over the edge into sleep again.

‘Buffy? How about we get some sleep and we can talk in the morning? You look exhausted.’

She looked up into concerned brown eyes and nodded. He looked tired too, she realised. Dark circles were smudged around those eyes, he hadn’t shaved today and that newly cut, but still too long hair was sticking up in places. Perhaps from too much tossing and turning of his own.

‘Good. You wanna stay with me? It’s, uh, starting to feel kinda like it’s you and me against the world, y’know?’

Buffy nodded. She didn’t think that she could have got up and left now if she had wanted to. She was already half asleep as they sat there. Xander made a move to get off the bed, intending to head to his couch to try and sleep, but deceptively strong, slender arms only held him tighter, refusing to let go until he relented. They lay back in the bed that he had shared with no one but Anya and he covered them with the warm blankets.

‘You okay?’ he asked after switching out the bedside lamp.

Buffy nodded again, brief thoughts of Dawn and Spike flashing through her mind. Spike would guard her sister. She trusted him to do that for her. ‘Til the day he died - sincere British voice, clench of razor sharp cheekbone, flashing blue eyes - wasn’t that how this story went?

Spike. Would he worry? Would she have explanations to face tomorrow in their insane relationship? Explain why she had chosen to stay with Xander instead of go back to them?

Would he believe her?

The worries faded away as she simply let herself sink into Xander’s warm embrace. Yet another of those scenarios that she would have put all her non-existent money on never happening. She was staying over at Xander’s. Sleeping in his arms. How many childhood fantasies of his would this have fulfilled?

(...can I have you? Duh... can I help you?...)

Minus, perhaps, the accompanying floods of miserable tears, the multiple deaths, the vampires, the abandonment, the betrayals, and all the evil filth that the hellmouth could spit at them over the years, all channelled through the supernatural focal point that was the Slayer. Buffy Anne Summers. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Buffy the Angel.

It didn’t matter, she had decided a long time ago, the way that Xander had once felt about her. He was over it, and she was over him being over it. In spite of his own crazy choices, Xander had loved and lost in his own right. Perhaps with more success than Buffy had, but in the end they had both lost. And lost. And lost. Always at times like this she found more and more that some things that simply did not matter. Things like the past. Arguments. Disagreements. Trivial things that she could have wasted her life on, if it had truly been her life. Could she have loved Xander Harris, she wondered? If she had never become the Slayer she knew that she would never have looked twice at him. The best that she could ever have become would only have been a bigger and better version of Cordelia than Cordelia had been at high school.

Of course, none of any of this would have happened if she wasn’t the Slayer. She would have died in her old high school with the rest of her classmates and never even come to Sunnydale. But then all the people she called friends now would be dead. Hell, maybe the whole world would have ended a couple of times, just to top it all off.

Things could, she realised with surprise, most definitely be worse.

‘Xander?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I love you.’

‘I love you too, Buff.’

‘No, I mean I really love you. I don’t tell you that enough. Always.’

She felt his arms tighten around her, needlessly protecting her against the Big Bad World.

‘Love you too, Buffy. I’ll always be here for you.’

‘Yeah. I know.’

Buffy slipped into weary unconsciousness where for once she was safe and warm and sheltered. She was the one to be protected, not the protector. There were others here to fight for her. There was a strange demon with blond hair and a wild smile who told her that he loved her in spite of everything he was. There was a blood sister more ancient and powerful than anything they could ever have imagined. There was friendship never ending. Friendship unconditional.

She dreamt. She dreamt of her past. Her friends. Her family. Her lovers. Death and life and love and laughter and past and present all rolled into one. The future stretched out before her like an unwoven tapestry. She dreamt of brown eyes. She walked through her dreams as a child wondering at the sights she saw there until it grew cold and she fell.

Buffy fell a long way, but before she hit the ground, she felt a tug at her back. She felt her skin split painlessly apart, pushed out of the way with the force of snow white feathers. She admired her new wings as they spread out behind her.

Buffy Summers sprouted wings... and she flew.

~~~

Buffy woke up slowly. Unravelling from her dreams she opened her eyes to find herself still in Xander’s room. She was floating in a sea of soft pillows, curled around Xander in such a way that she felt wholly moulded to his body. It was nice. Comforting. She felt a strong tug of something deep in her chest that these days she only felt in those all too scarce moments with Dawn when they weren’t fighting about school or breakfast cereal or clothes or something equally unimportant. Like she had used to feel with Giles and with her mother. This was her love for those most important to her. This felt good. This surpassed the fear she had felt last night by a hundred, a thousand, a million miles.

Her face was inches away from his, relaxed in sleep. She studied him thoughtfully. It wasn’t often she got to see Xander like this. She knew that if he were awake and caught her staring at him, he would most likely pull a face to make her smile and perhaps initiate a tickling contest. But now, unguarded in sleep he looked at peace. There was no humour or uncertainty about him now. Just Xander.

Buffy smiled at her friend, trying to decide between drifting back to sleep and extracting herself from the bed so she wouldn’t have to deal with embarrassed Xander-babble if he woke up to find them like this. She reached the decision that she was just too comfortable to move and that more sleep sounded like the best idea in the world right now. She hadn’t slept this well in an age, and maybe if she was lucky she would have some more of those dreams. It had been so long since she had had honest to goodness dreams that weren’t either prophecies or nightmares. Dreams where she was an angel, no matter how far fetched, were just fine by her. It was worth a little Xander-babble for the comfort she was feeling right now.

Snuggling back down, she took a last fond look at Xander and closed her eyes.

Less than a second later she opened them again. Something wasn’t right here. She looked across Xander’s cheek to the corner of the room. Something definitely wasn’t right here. In the corner of the room was a Weeping Willow tree, its roots disappearing into the wooden floorboards; long branches swaying slightly in a non-existent breeze. Buffy blinked in shock.

‘I’m pretty sure that wasn’t there before.’

Sitting up suddenly, she grasped Xander’s shoulder and shook him.

’Xander? Xander! Wake up! Did you have a tree in your bedroom before?’

Xander mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep, turned slightly and threw his arm over her lap.

‘Xander! God, you sleep like the dead!’

(...Spike... Angel...)

‘Uh, not that I’d know how the dead sleep. Much. Xander, wake up!’

This time there was no reaction at all. His breathing slow and steady, Xander continued to slumber beside her. Starting to worry, Buffy looked around the rest of the room. In each of the four corners was a similar Weeping Willow tree. In the inner branches of one was perched a brightly coloured bird of paradise, calmly preening its feathers. Each of the trees was growing right out of the bare floorboards of the room and looked as though they had been there for quite some time.

Now that she had sat up, the rest of the floor was visible to her as well. At least, it would have been if it hadn’t been covered in a swirling white mist which looked to be about a foot deep. Buffy frowned at her altered surroundings. The appearance of the trees and the mist was strange to say the least, but oddly familiar.

‘Hey there. How’s it going?’

Buffy jumped at the voice, immediately ready for attack, but paused when she saw who had spoken. In the middle of the floor, stood the shiny black demon that she had killed earlier in the night, the same in every tiny detail except that now he was pure white from top to toe. Or rather from spines to claws. He also he wore a large bandage taped over his chin.

‘How’s it... how’s it going?’ Buffy shook her head. ‘Okaaay. Either this is another really vivid dream, or you've really come back somehow to bug me some more. In either case I just have two questions. One, have I gone completely insane? And two, do I have to get out of this bed to fight you again, because honestly? I’m really comfy here.’

‘No, not this time,’ the demon shook its head. ‘I’m just hear to talk.’

Buffy nodded reluctantly, but allowed the truce. ‘What did you do to Xander?’

‘Who me? Nothing at all. He’s fine. Just sleeping.’

‘Am I sleeping?’

‘Not really. This is like a state between conscious states. Not many have been here.’

‘Well colour me honoured. And speaking of... what’s with the colour change?

‘You like?’ the demon asked, turning around for her perusal. ‘It’s my latest incarnation. Happens sometimes after you die from unnatural means. You really did a number on me though. My chin is going to take an age to heal properly.’

Buffy raised her eyebrows in surprise.

‘Chin’s a weak spot, huh? Well, I would say sorry, but if you remember you were trying to kill me at the time.’

The demon held up a hand. ‘Hold up on the accusations, would ya? I was only doing my job. It was nothing personal. I’m really just here to talk this time.’

‘Uh huh. And I’m supposed to believe that? Oh, and by the way – why exactly aren’t you still dead?’

‘Oh I am. Or rather, I was. My body is still lying exactly where you slayed me. Or is it slew me? Anyway, you killed me. By the way, do you always just leave demon carcasses where they fall? Doesn’t that raise a lot of awkward questions?’

‘Get to the point,’ Buffy snapped.

‘Right. My point.’

He pointed to his heavily bandaged chin.

‘You took my power source. The ring?’

Buffy glanced guiltily to the bedside table where the innocuous looking ring still sat.

‘Yeah. That one,’ the demon huffed, following her gaze. ‘So you ripped it out, I died. In this incarnation I don’t need it to survive, but it still hurts like a mother. That’s the thing about working for the Powers. If they’re not done with you, they’ll keep bringing you back until you get the job done.’

‘Yeah,’ Buffy agreed with a sad nod. ‘I can just about grasp that crazy notion.’

‘I’ll bet. I’m Skip by the way,’ the white demon said quite cheerfully. ‘We didn’t get around to introductions the last time.’

‘No, you were too busy being the agent of doom, trying to kill me and telling me how others would follow you to complete the job. And how through no fault of my own I’d gotten yet another higher power mad at me and someone was out to kill me. That about sum it up?’ she asked sarcastically.

Skip nodded his concurrence.

‘Well you know what? Better men than you have tried...’

‘...and failed. I know the story. Well I’m not here to try and kill you this time. You bested a champion, that’s me by the way,’ (Buffy rolled her eyes) ‘and others would have some to finish the job I started, but something has changed.’

‘You don’t say. What changed?’ Buffy asked.

Skip looked a little embarrassed. ‘Rather unexpectedly, the truth has been revealed.’

‘The truth? What truth?’

Skip gestured to the sleeping figure lying beside Buffy.

‘Believe it or not, Loverboy here hit the nail on the head.’

‘He’s not my lover and... wait. Xander got it right?’

‘Uh huh. Can opened. Worms everywhere. You’re an angel all right.’

‘What?’ Buffy’s eyes widened considerably. ‘I’m an angel. Just like that? No award ceremony? No bright light at the end of the tunnel? I don’t get to meet God, whoever and wherever she may be? Great. That’s just great. I get a demon with a really big band-aid telling me that I’m an angel and I’m just supposed to buy it? Is this your idea of messing with my head before you try to kill me again, because honestly... I’ve had better.’

‘You’re a feisty one, ain’tcha?’ Skip asked in amusement. ‘Why would I lie?’

‘Why would you tell the truth?’

‘I don’t have to. You already know the answer. You heard of your calling from one with a pure heart.’ He nodded to Xander again. ‘He saw right through you and that, my dear, is why I’m not here to try and kill you again. You know the truth so we have to handle things a little differently now. You’ve ascended. I’ve ascended. We've all ascended. I’m not the assassin any more. I’m just the messenger.’

‘Is this where you tell me not to shoot you? Because I’ve got a crossbow handy if you really...’

‘You can’t hurt me any more. I told you. I’ve ascended. I’m beyond pain.’

‘Oh really,’ Buffy narrowed her eyes. ‘Got any more hidden piercings you aren’t telling me about?’

Skip swallowed nervously, and self-consciously shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

‘Kidding, just kidding. Whatever other weird bolts of metal you have throught whatever weird bits of your weird demon anatomy are safe with me,’ Buffy said, settling herself more comfortably on the pillows. 'So say Xander got it right. He saw in me what no one else could,’ Buffy couldn’t help but look down tenderly at her sleeping friend, ‘and now you say you have to handle things differently.’ She frowned and looked back at Skip. ‘How exactly were you going to handle them before?’

‘Originally?’ Skip took a deep breath in thought. ‘You were in heaven, right?’

‘I-I think so.’

Skip waved away her uncertainty. ‘Take it from me, you were. One of ‘em anyway. That’s the Powers’ playground. Things operate on a different level there. You were going to be chosen from there so we could give you the proper sales pitch. You know – the awards ceremony? The bright light at the end of the tunnel? Meeting “god”? Your training? But then your friends showed that bright spark of ingenuity and performed their little untimely intervention raising you from the dead. You’re not supposed to be back here yet. It wasn’t your time. You can’t be here with your friends. It’s just not the done thing. So the plan changed. We, namely me, were going to kill you and just send you back to heaven where you could be recruited properly.’

‘Recruited. I see, so what does being an angel mean exactly?’

‘Like I said. There’s the recruitment, then the celebrations, followed by the technicalities where we do the form-filling and the administration. Then there’s the training for a couple of decades, about a dozen, tops, and then you return to earth, or to another physical dimension to fight for the Powers. You’ve heard the prophecies about the end of days, right? And when I say the end of days, I mean the End Of Days,’ he said dramatically. ‘You’re supposed to be there. This is how you get there. The End Of Days isn’t going to be for a while. Angels don’t die.’

‘Yeah. Angels don’t die,’ repeated Buffy slowly. ‘So what you’re telling me is, I’m supposed to go back to heaven for training and meanwhile the hellmouth can just be left to its own devices? Well there’s a truly excellent idea,’ she spat out sarcastically.

‘Well, in a nutshell, yes.’

‘In a nutshell. In a nutshell? You lay this insane plan on me and just expect me to go along with it? Don’t you guys know anything about me? Not real big on the following of orders. Just ask the Council.’

‘Are you seriously comparing the Council of Watchers to the Powers That Be? Is that supposed to be funny in this dimension, because I’m thinking maybe it loses a little something in the translation.’

‘Skip it,’ she instructed. ‘Um, no pun intended.’

‘Yeah, I get that a lot.’

‘What I want to know is, saying that I buy this crap about me being an angel, my job is to wander around earth fighting the good fight and protecting the innocent, waiting for the End of Days to come and fight in that, too?’

‘In a nut...’

Buffy held up a hand to stop him. ‘Don’t say ‘in a nutshell’ again.’

‘Sorry.’

‘So why do I have to leave now? What can you teach me that I don’t already know?’

‘That’s not my department. I’m in acquisitions now. You’d need to speak to somebody in administration to know what their plans are for you now. Are you ready to leave now?’

‘Just like that?’

‘Just like that.’

‘No.’

‘No?’

‘You heard me, Skip. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. No deal.’

‘I see.’ The white demon folded his oversize arms thoughtfully. ‘What do you want?’

‘Ha! What do I want. Do you have about a hundred years to listen?’

‘Well, actually, yes.’

‘Never mind. What I want is for the powers to stop fooling around with me. I’m already fighting their good fight. I think that my life to this point has probably been sufficiently... entertaining for them,’ she said bitterly. ‘I don’t need any training to do my job.’

‘You are refusing a call from the Powers?’

‘Yes I am. You said things were different now. You were right. I’m not leaving. You’ll just have to find me a loophole.’

Skip let out a burst of laughter. ‘Ha! What is it with you Sunnydale chicks and loopholes? You think I can just change the way things are done... the way things have always been done just for you?’

‘You never know what you can do until you try, Skip. Didn’t your guidance counsellor ever tell you that?’

‘Listen, Buffy Summers, the Powers don’t like being told what to do.’

Buffy raised her chin stubbornly. ‘Yeah, well guess what...’

‘Neither do you,’ sighed Skip as he finished her sentence.

‘Give the man a cigar. Don’t tell me you don’t have any input here. A right of veto? A demon suggestion box? A special batphone so you can talk to god?’

‘I, uh, usually worked in the hell regions. My field was containment and suffering with a sideline in assassinations and life alterations. This is, uh, all kinda new to me,’ he admitted reluctantly. ‘I haven’t really had much call to, uh, talk to god.’

‘Well now is as good a time as any to start,’ Buffy suggested. ‘They probably already know how stubborn I can be when I don’t get my way.’

‘Look, I just can’t...’

‘No, you look,’ she interrupted. ‘The way I see it... and feel free to correct me if I’m wrong here, but they way I see it is this.’ Buffy began to count off on her fingers. ‘I'm the Chosen One of Chosen Ones. Out of the Slayer loop now, but still keeping all my special magic powers, right?’

Skip nodded.

‘I can’t just die and go back to the heaven that I got to experience, because some deity has decided that I’m going to become an angel and now you’re telling me that I have to leave my friends and the hellmouth on your say so?’

‘That’s about the size of it, yeah,’ Skip said, wondering where she was going with her questions.

‘Well why didn’t you just say so?’ she asked lightly. Her eyes glinted dangerously. ‘The answer is still no.’

‘You can’t just say no to the Powers!’

‘I just did. You can give them my answer. I’ll fight the good fight, I’ll take any help they want to throw my way, but I’m not leaving here. I’m not leaving my family.’

She looked back down at Xander.

‘I’ve lost enough.’

Skip examined her for a long moment and then simply nodded. ‘Have it your way, Buffy Summers. They did tell me that you’d be a tough nut to crack.’

‘Well they were right... and what is it with you and the nuts?’

Skip ignored her. ‘I will return to visit you when the need arises. You may not like following instructions, but you cannot deny your calling. You answer to your god now. Much will be expected of you.’

‘Isn’t it always?’ she asked seriously.

‘You will also have to learn much about your calling on your own, seeing as you have refused our guidance.’

‘Like I’m not used to that already. I wrote the book on doing things my own way.’

‘Hmmm. You will, of course, observe the need for the utmost secrecy. No one must be informed of you calling. By rights you should kill Xander Harris for this knowledge.’

‘I don’t think so!’ Buffy cried. ‘What about spreading the glory of god and all that jazz?’

‘Angels do not sit on fluffy clouds playing harps all day long, Buffy Summers. They are the warriors of right. They strike down upon the evil doer with great vengeance and furious anger. You know, like that scene in Pulp Fiction? They ward off the demon hordes and cast fear and loathing wherever they go.’

‘Sounds peachy. I’m not killing any humans.’

‘So be it,’ said Skip with finality as he turned away. Under his breath he muttered, ’I’d love to meet the schmuck in personnel who decided on picking her for this job.’

Buffy watched as he disappeared like smoke through the wall of Xander’s bedroom.

‘Remember, Buffy Summers, I will return. Mark my words.’

‘Yeah, yeah. Mark your words. Whatever.’

‘Buffy? Who ya talkin’ to?’ asked a sleepy voice from beside her.

‘Hey, you’re awake.’

‘Yeah. Mornin’,’ Xander smiled up at her. Buffy looked around the room and noticed that the sun was coming up. That and the swaying trees, the swirling mist and the solitary bird had all disappeared.

‘You look happier this morning,’ Xander said as he said up, rubbing his eyes. Buffy grinned. He looked about five years old and his hair was even more sticky uppy than it had been the night before.

‘I feel happier.’

‘Good. Now what gives and can I have some of what you’re on?’

‘Oh, nothing gives. Just good dreams. I dreamt that I could fly. Then there were trees in your bedroom, oh, and you were there too.’

‘I was?’

‘Yep. You saved my life because you have a pure heart. So I feel better about life this morning, you know what I mean?’

‘Yeah,’ he smiled, ‘I know exactly what you mean.’

‘Oh, and Xander?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Now that we’ve spent the night together... will you make me waffles for breakfast?’

‘Sure thing,’ he said, his sleepy smile turning into a grin. ‘You want that hot chocolate now, too?’

‘Will a ‘hell yeah!’ and an ‘uh huh!’ answer that question for you?’

‘Waffles and hot chocolate coming right up. The breakfast of champions.’

 

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