Episode 83: The Past, the Present, and no Refunds

The Survival Kit Heaven Sent

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by 3D Master (3dmaster@telfort.nl)

Disclaimer see Episode 79.

The sun was setting as Xander watched with a smile as the group of little girls piled their luggage in the rented van, then did the same with themselves.  Next to him was standing Dawn, who had a huge, huge grin on her face, bordering on that of a madwoman.  Several more Potentials were around the garden, busy finishing up some stuff on the new barbed wire fence.  Fred came from around the driver’s side of the van, as a Watcher gently helped the Potentials into the van.

“There, those are the last ones,” Fred said with a smile.  “After this, a full half will be living in the mansion, there should be much more room, now.”

“Thank god,” Dawn said with a happy sigh.

“I agree with Dawn, this place was starting to go nuts,” Xander added with a light smile, stifling a yawn.

“Starting!?” Dawn questioned him with an incredulous face.  He smiled at her.

“There.”  They turned around to see Willow at a corner of the garden look with satisfaction at the finished sensor grid, as well as the barbed wire they could electrify.  “That’s it, Xander.  Technological detection and defensive perimeter finished.  Leaves only to go to the basement, and turn it on.  I’ll start on the Crawford Mansion in the morning, I’ll have cut classes.”

“Good,” Xander nodded.  The Potentials who had been helping Willow setting it up looked with a smile on their faces around their hard work.

Willow turned to Fred, and said, “It’s been nice having you around, it’s good to have girl just as intelligent as me around for a change.”

“Yeah, nice to be around a girl smart enough I don’t have repeat everything in three-year-old language,” Fred answered Willow with a smile.  “I guess we won’t get to spend quite as much time anymore.”

“Unless you’re willing to help me with the security setup at the Mansion, we’ll have a bit more time together,” Willow replied with a smile.

“That’d be great!” Fred said enthusiastically and gave Willow a hug.

“Do you two need a room?” Dawn asked dryly.

“Hey, I thought I was the resident joker around here?” Xander asked sleepily.

“Someone has to take over while you’re asleep standing,” Dawn answered with a smile, then quickly turned away, and went back into the house at Xander’s scowl.

“Bye, I think I’ll be the representative at the tactical meetings from our place, along with a one or two watchers,” Fred said with a frown, “the strongest should remain to defend the girls in the mansion, and that’s Angel.”

“We’ll see each other at the gatherings then,” Xander said, and then Fred went back to the van.  She got in, and drove off.

Willow, Xander and the remaining Potentials went back inside then.  Willow then went down into the basement.  A new wall with computers and monitors stood there, still dormant. She turned it on and went by a check list.  A little while later she returned to ground level.  The Potentials were in the hallway, waiting for a verdict.  “All systems go,” Willow told Xander then turned to the Potentials, “Good work, girls.”  They smiled at the praise and thanked her.

*****

Fred stopped the van in front of the mansion.  The sun having set in the mean time, allowed Angel to come out of the house along with the few watchers who stayed at the place.  The Potentials were helped out of the van, as was their luggage.  Parts of it was carried by the adults, while the rest was carried by the girls themselves, the really little ones getting many praises about being big, strong girls.  The Potentials happily smiled under the praise.  Often with tongues out of their mouths, and holding the suitcases with both hands, they struggled inside.

Once inside the Potentials looked around with wide eyes.  Exclaims of “Wow!” sometimes came, a lot of them were silent though, intimidated by the huge space, and a regiment of older Potentials training basic martial arts under tutelage of a Watcher.  The girls were in a small scare of three by three behind the couch and the entertainment center, as well as the video game console, the controls of which were put through their paces by a few girls in the mid-range of the ages.  Since the mansion had no fancy gravity gym, or any gym at all, finding exercise room when the garden was too dark or already being used had taken some compromise.  Everyone was silent for a moment, apart from the computer game and more importantly the yells of effort during bunches and kicks.  They fighting sounds were more than a bit impressive, especially to the impressionable younger Slayers.

“Okay, guys,” Fred called, drawing the girls’ attention to her.  She bent down, and lightly bent through her knees to boot, so she was at their level.  “We have to go upstairs to your new bedrooms, which of you think you can climb the stairs with your luggage without help?”  The girls gauged the stairs carefully, and then looked down to their luggage and back at the chair - each at their own time and space, estimating how difficult climbing with the luggage could be.

“Me!” several of them exclaimed.  They picked up the luggage they had temporarily put down and went over to the stairs.  With some effort they put it on the second step, climbed on the first, and then lifted the luggage onto the third, and onward.  One of them was braver and tried to simply carry it upward.  The girl’s eyes widened in shock as she couldn’t keep her balance on the third step, and started toppling over.  Angel was there quickly, and placed his hand on the girl’s back, keeping her from toppling.

“Better do as they’re doing,” Angel said, pointing at the three other girls doing the case.

“Yes, sir,” she fearfully said with a nod, and continued onward in that way.  Angel went back and saw Fred picking up several of the suitcases.  Angel got some of his own, and then they went up the stairs.  All the girls following them along.

“Hey, help out a bit!” Angel said sternly, and the training girls froze and looked over.

They took in the situation, and said, “Yes, sir!”  A few of them came over and got the remaining suitcases then followed the girls and the two grownups up the stairs.

“See, girls,” Fred said conspiratorially with the new very young girls, “if you ever need any help with anything and we’re not around, just yell and order the old girls around.  We told them they need to help you, even if you don’t really need any help and just feel lazy.”  They giggled.  And so the small train went up the stairs to the second floor.  There the girls looked around with large eyes again.  Every looked amazing; dark finishes, and rows of doors to rooms in all directions, as well as a ladder to the attic which was converted similarly.

Angel went over to the nearest door and opened it up, showing a shiny, still clean - for however long - bathroom.  “Don’t forget where the upstairs bathroom is, okay?” he asked.

“No, we won’t!” a girl exclaimed enthusiastically.

Then they were led to two bedrooms, which was filled with three stack beds.  “If you’ve carried your own luggage upstairs, you get to choose your bed first,” Angel said gently.

“YAY!” the girls who did shouted happily, and went to pick out their bed.

*****

Faith and Buffy stood in the Summers garden, a whole regiment of watchers in front of them. Buffy was a bit further away from them than Faith was.  Both were in simple jeans and a shirt. In the door into the house stood Xander and Willow, looking at the event.  Several Potentials were around watching as well.

Faith was pacing back and forth in front of the thirty or forty or so Watchers.  She was taking them in one at the time, both intimidating as puzzling the men and women.  “All right, I’ve heard some of you think that perhaps the old bastards, the ones who considered the Slayer a demon, might be right.  That a Super Slayer will sooner or later lose control and start killing anything and anyone in its way, isn’t that right?  That there must be some truth to a tradition, an ancient knowledge that’s been around for seven millennia?”

Nobody answered, but it was obvious some were nervous, and not just because of Faith’s stern tone.  A few others weren’t truly nervous, just looked away.  Faith stopped her pacing in the middle of them, and put her arms out a bit, her legs apart.  “AAAH!” she roared out, her life force blasting out from her, washing over the watchers, sending some to the ground.  The garden trembled for a moment, then her irises turned black, electricity crackled her hair up and about, and her chi flame turned ethereal blue.  Done, she just relaxed, and stood there, looking at the others, energy crackling about her.  Many looked either curious or fearful at Faith, or both.  Then she relaxed even more, and the energy disappeared, only the black irises showing she was still transformed.

“Do I look insane to you?  Do I look like a demonic thing about to jump forward and kill you all?  Do I look like I have even a remote difficulty controlling anything?” Faith asked, peering at them, looking right and left around the watchers.  “I’m in complete control, and I will not ever lose control either.  There’s nothing demonic about me, nothing evil.”  Faith turned lightly.  She pointed at Buffy, and said, “In fact, she’s not even the Slayer.  I am, this is.”  She pointed back at herself, and continued, “What a Potential becomes when she’s called, is just the preparation, it allows the girl the understand, and accept what she is, become able to harness the power of the true Slayer, because make no mistake, the amount of power we posses in this form is immense, and very dangerous in the wrong hands.  B.”

With a cry Buffy transformed as well, the blue flame pulsing around her.  Then she relaxed and it and the electricity whipping her hair around disappeared, having just her place pupils like Faith.  “Does she look out of control to you?  She’s completely relaxed, just like I am . . .”   Faith paused and looked closely at the Watchers, all of them, even those who didn’t think the old guard might be right, looked closely.  “7,000 years ago, a Slayer didn’t go insane and killed everything she came across because she became a Super Slayer, she became the Super Slayer because she went insane.”

Buffy tapped her head, and explained, “Dreams of previous Slayers.”

Faith nodded, and continued, “Her Watcher died, her companion.  Back then they were different.  What was basically her Watcher was a warrior, perhaps I should call him her Hunter instead.  And he was a lot more than just that, he was barely older than her, a few years, still in his teens - late teens.  He was her companion, her teacher, her mentor, her friend, her lover, he was her entire world.  He died, and she couldn’t take it.  It broke her heart, destroyed her world.  She went insane, but she achieved enough power to transform, and her rage at the demons that killed him made her transform.  That kind of insanity with this power and instinct to find and kill demons, is a very deadly combination.  She was an exception.”  Faith detransformed, and Buffy followed her lead.  Faith’s brown eyes regarded the Watchers more gently now, who notice the change, “One where this precaution failed.  Any questions? Anyone still think we might be evil demons?”  Head shaking, and negative murmurs answered that.

*****

A group of younger and middle Potential Slayers most up to 14 years old, a very few sixteen-year-olds, were sitting around in the Summers living room.  The Latin beauty that was Isabella, sat on the Summers’ couch in the middle.  She was smiling radiantly, feeling very good after losing her virginity.  Jorge was sitting in one of the chairs, while the Scooby Gang minus Dawn was sitting at the large table - more researching, and listening in on the goings on with one ear. The Potentials were all around, on the couches and chairs, on the ground, and a few on some folding chairs that had been found elsewhere in the house, a few were still busy gathering chairs.  The walls were still lined with mattresses and sleeping bags, even with the new split, there were still a lot of Potentials.

The Potential Annabelle arrived with two chairs from the kitchen and placed them down, then sat down.  She turned around to her left, and noticed Kennedy standing there, looking at the chair.  “You can sit down, you know?” Annabelle suggested gently.

Kennedy looked at her for just a moment, as if contemplated the consequences, and then quickly said, “No, no, I’m fine.”  Unconsciously one of her hands had moved protectively to her backside.  Most of the Potentials burst out laughing, making Kennedy blush.  Isabella and Jorge looked confused.

Hella, the blonde Danish Potential that arrived with Giles, explained happily, “Yesterday we learned why it’s a bad idea to try and steal away a witch’s girlfriend.”  The others’ snickering grew louder again.

Isabella’s eyebrows rose up both questioningly and with slow dawning.  Lawan, Giles’ Asian Potentials, added, “Yeah, you’re a bad girl and you get spanked, hanging upside down from the ceiling.”  The girls laughed harder again, and Isabella almost burst out laughing as well, only barely able to stifle it.  A smile she couldn’t keep off her face though, especially as she looked at the mortified Kennedy for a moment.  Jorge just looked with wide eyes.

“Which kind of reminds me,” Gitta said, smiling, having finally decided to embarrass herself.  “The first time I went to discothek, I war half-convinced by friends, so I hatte no idea what to expect, und war wearing a total wrong outfit, but most importantly wrong shoes.  The floor was all nass und slippery from spilled drinks, and I was wearing shoes mit no grip whatsoever.  So me and friends are happily dancing away - das heisst first time nervosly trying to do the same als the others so we wouldn’t look complett stupid . . .”  The girls laughed, and Gitta paused for a moment.  Then she continued, “Und there I go.  Slip, wham, butt first on the floor.  Das couldn’t be all, of course; floor slippery, shiny smooth skirt, I just slipped uber die floor.  Floor chafing von butt skiing was bad enough, aber that couldn’t, obviously, be all. Drinks served in glass . . .”  They looked at her, some in shock, some with their hands in front of their mouths, some in sympathy.  “My freundinnen spent an hour picking out splinters from my arsh.  Bent over gegen wall behind disco, I stood, skirt hiked hog, pantyhose down, tears of shame, and they behind me, noses ungefehr glued to my naked butt to find and pull out glass.”  Gitta got up, and mimicked the pose, making all the girls laugh out loud at her contorted face torn between pain and shame.  She straightened up again, and smiling she added, “And then kame the guys who thought we were lesbien.”  Everyone completely lost it then, the humor even breaking through Kennedy’s embarrassment, all laughing out loud.  “Wir couldn’t lose dem fur another hour.”  The laughter picked up again.

After a bit, Gitta sat down.  Isabella forced herself out of her laughter, and waving left and right as if waving away the laughter, she said, “I’ve got one.  I met Xander a long time ago, did you know that?  Some ten years ago.”  The Scooby Gang perked up now, Xander raising his eyebrows and wondering if he’d done anything stupid as a kid.  Everyone was silent now, listening closely.  “I and my Watcher were somewhat hidden away in a valley in the mountains, it was about paradise . . . until some ice-demon lord named Skrymir found the place and attacked us with a small army.  Now this ice-elemental could extend and grow whatever he wanted of ice, pulling the water to freeze directly out of the air, pikes, saws, anything - if you know it: think the T1000, but three times it size, four times meaner, and on steroids.  It’s body was ice, but the actual demon was a gas that ominously floated around in the center of the body.  It didn’t really need its army to kill us, but with it they also outnumbered us two about five to one, if not more since a few remaining to guard in the cave passage that was the only entrance to our little paradise retreat.”

Isabella paused a moment, too look around at the faces, and she said, “In short, we didn’t stand a chance, even if we weren’t outnumbered.  We managed to get few hacks in on Skrymir, but if we even manage to cut away a little ice, it would regrow about immediately, and there was at least half a meter to go before we reached the gas; not that a sword and axe would do much good against gas.  We were dead meat, no way did we have any right to survive this encounter, until Xander arrived . . . he came out of the passage, flying, somersaulting, just finishing off one of the guard demons, and didn’t really notice us.  The only thing he had interest in, was Skrymir.  He wanted to fight, and did he ever had a fight. Skrymir’s little army was dead before anyone knew what was happening, and then it was ice-elemental against a twelve year old boy.  The battle was fierce, Xander showing strength, speed, and abilities that would make a Slayer jealous.  After getting run through by ice picks several times, Xander destroyed the demon, totally.

“Xander was unconscious for quite a time due to his injuries, and I and Jorge nursed him back to health.  It meant I had time to study the new heroic arrival.  He had muscles, he had a nice face, scratch that, sexy face, not to mentions lovely brown eyes, but most of all, I was a damsel being attacked by the evil dragon and he was the white knight in shiny armor that saved my life - I was twelve, just hitting puberty,” Isabella gave a mild smile and looked around the room, taking in all the Slayers, who smiled ever growing smiles.  She then crossed eyes for a moment with Jorge, who gave her a smile.  Isabella nodded to the room, confirming their suspicions.  “I was gone, out, I was completely, totally, entirely head over heals in love with him.  Butterflies flew around in my stomach, fantasies of kissing filtered constantly through my mind, I was done for.  Xander woke up eventually, and sadly for me, he either wasn’t in puberty yet, or too focused on growing strong enough to take revenge on the warlord that destroyed the rest of race to be bothered by something as inconsequential as puberty, or girls in puberty with a crush.  We trained and played together though, and I found he could make me laugh, he put me at ease - I fell even further in love.”

Isabella paused for a moment to laugh at herself.  The others smiled, the story was funny before they even got to the punch line.  “I hat to do something of course,” she continued, remembering, “I combed my hair and put it in a nice pony tail, I tried loose bur smoothly brushed hair.  I lamented that there was no makeup for Potentials, not to Jorge of course, he wouldn’t like that one bit.  Then!  Inspiration hit!  I knew a few things about the whole boys-and-girls thing, of course, so the next morning I stuffed by bra with toilet paper.  I was happy, I had breasts now, and I just knew my knight would be just as happy with them.  I put on a long wide coat to hide my new lumps from Jorge, if you had a watcher you know how unhappy they are about us hitting the age where we start noticing boys, and I was not going to get caught.  Finally - really only a short while later, but I was anxious - Xander and I went out of the house and reached a nice place.  More importantly, it was far enough away from the house that even if Jorge saw me, he wouldn’t notice my sizeable, new additions.  So, alone, I took off my coat, and tossed it to the ground while pushed out my chest.”

Isabella paused again, making everyone anxiously wait for the conclusion.  “Here they were, my breasts . . . ‘Hey, where did the lumps come from.’

“Oh, my god!  I was beat red instantly.  Boys love breasts, boys love to look at breasts, boys fall in love with breasts . . . boys notice breasts arriving overnight.  How to solve this? What to do?  Someone help me!  I started to think of solutions while I prayed and begged any supernatural god or spirit to give me some help.  ‘Uh, well . . . uh . . . they’re my breasts,’” I managed to stammer out somehow, growing redder.  ‘I know what breasts are, the weren’t there yesterday,’ came his answer.  Of course he knew!  I wanted to sink through the Earth!   How could I have gotten myself into this mess.  Xander was going to hate me once he found out.  So there I stood, trying to find some explanation, wondering if I should just come clean. ‘Uh, well, you see . . .’ I stammered out, searching for a good reason, ‘my Watcher bought m-me training bras . . .’  Eureka!” Isabella jumped up, making the smiling, sniffling, and chuckling girls and one male, her former Watcher follow her motion.  She stayed standing, and continued, “I had it, lucky me!  Blame my Watcher!  ‘. . . a few months ago, and they kept growing, of course, but we’re isolated, and so no new bras yet.  They were there yesterday . . .’” Isabella mimicked her motion from ten years ago, grabbing her then fake, and now real breasts.  She continued smoothly, “‘. . . the bras are now just much too small, and flatten them against my chest.  I’m not wearing a bra now.’  Now all that was left, was hoping against hope that Xander bought it.

Isabella looked around the room, quickly lowering hands as if nervous back then.  “‘Oh,’ he said.  He believed it!” Isabella exclaimed, looking extremely happy, continuing her acting, “He believed it!  And he had noticed my breasts!  So now he was going to kiss me, because boys love breasts, then fly off with me like Superman and Lois Lane, and he’d marry me, and- ‘You should put it back on, those lumps are just extra convenient handholds for opponents.   C’mon!  Let’s spar!’  And with that he went into a fighting stance.”  Isabella let high hopeful stance crash in utter defeat, head down, shoulders slumped with her shattering dream and onward sitting back in the chair, as her audience erupted in laughter.

The table of Scoobies had more and more stopped on their research, and listened in on the tale, and were laughing hard.  “You didn’t,” Buffy managed to sputter out between laughter.

Xander shrugged with a smile, and said, “I was twelve.”

Willow managed to stop laughing, and said with revelation, “So that’s why you asked me that time if my breasts still had to grow or I was just hiding them?  I thought you were making fun of me.  I didn’t talk to you for a week!  I was devastated.”

“Thank god I didn’t know you when you were twelve,” Tara said looking at her friend, who gave her a smile and a shrug, while the Potentials were still chuckling and half-listening in.

“Yeah, you would have destroyed me,” Buffy said, and then looked over at Willow with some new respect.  “And you lived with him all through your teens, boy . . .”  Willow shrugged, and yawned.

It immediately triggered a chain reaction of all of Buffy and Xander yawning widely. They shook their heads to clear it: they were still exhausted.

“How is it that you are so tired?” Jorge asked, speaking up.

Yawning Xander turned to him, and still yawning he answered, “Barely any sleep.  We go to college with the necessary classes, then research and managing these houses, and at night we’re flying around the world getting the Potentials that Faith dreamed of.”  He yawned again.

“It is not good to be that tired,” the Latin man observed.

“Yeah,” Xander yawned, “well, we had that talk.  We’re not going to abandon saving Potentials lives.  We don’t know what the First is truly up to, and until we do, there’s no option.”

“Do you save every single last one of them?” Jorge asked thoughtfully.

Xander sighed, and looked around the room, at the Potentials.  Then he turned to Jorge, and said, “Sadly, no.  Not even all of those that Faith dreamed about.  There are just too many, and the distances are too great.”  There was silence from the Potentials, and the adults closely observed them.  Those we had been rescued and thus present during failed rescue attempts already knew, so the others probably also knew, but it was still in an interesting event.  Some girls looked worried and afraid, but most no more than usual: indeed already knowing it from those who had seen it.

Jorge nodded, and then said, “Have you considered saving Potentials lives for two nights, and then taking a night off to sleep and rest?  You won’t completely stop saving them, but you do keep much more fresh for any attack from the First and its followers, and since you weren’t saving them /all/ anyway, it will not be a significant impact on the amount of girls saved.”

Xander looked stunned, carefully staring forward.  Buffy, Willow, and Tara were the same.  Xander turned around fully, including his chair, and regarded the man.  “It’s so simple.   How come I never thought of it?”

“You’re suffering from sleep deprivation,” Jorge supplied as answer dryly.

“You’re brilliant.  Willow, he’s brilliant, you see that!?” Xander asked excitedly.

Jorge frowned, and rebuked dryly, “No, I’m /not/ suffering from sleep deprivation.”

“I’m going to bed!” Xander exclaimed enthusiastically, ignoring Jorge’s rebuke.  He turned over and grabbed Buffy by the shoulders.  “Buffy!  We’re going to bed!  We’re getting some sleep, and rest tonight.  Tonight’s our first night off!”  Buffy was after him a moment later.

Jorge looked over at Isabella for a moment with raised eyes, questioning her silently, ‘What do you see in that guy?’  She just smiled at him rather proudly, not to mention relieved.   Perhaps if Xander was happy, somewhat rested, and grateful to her former Watcher, their little personal dislike might solve itself as well.

“I heard!” Buffy said with an equally relieved grin.  “My ears are still functioning, thankfully.”

“Sleep!” Xander exclaimed and quickly went up the stairs.  “When Faith calls with her new prophetic dreams, tell her the good news!”

*****

The next day

Buffy frowned looking at the horn of the phone.  Then she put it down and screamed, “DAWN!”

“What!?” came the younger Summers answer.  She appeared at the top of the stairs, annoyed as several mini-Potentials zipped passed her, apparently playing tag . . . by making karate chops and karate kicks at each other - those they had learned in their training sessions.   “Ow!” she exclaimed, and rubbed her soar thigh.

“Sorry,” a six-year-old said, returning to the scene of the cry, “it wasn’t meant to hit you.” Dawn was looking at the little girl, and couldn’t keep a growl from forming in the back of her throat.  The little girl looked instantly panicked and scampered off.

“I should think about being powered up all the time; they’d break their feet instead of bruising me up,” Dawn muttered with an evil genius grin.

“Are you quite finished!?” Buffy said sharply.

“Me!?  She torpedoed me,” Dawn said with indignation, then faltered at how pathetic at was talking about a six-year-old like that.

“I don’t care.  What did you do!?” Buffy asked her sister sharply.

Dawn looked down incredulously, and said, “They’re playing karate tag, and she missed the other brat.”  Dawn then muttered under her breath, “Stupid, Potential, Slayer, testosterone freakshows.”  Then louder again, exasperated, “I didn’t do anything.”

Buffy rolled her eyes in annoyance.  “Not that, your principal, baldy-what’s-his-face called, and asked me to come over.  Now . . . when you’re already home from school . . . so what did you do!?”

Dawn blinked, then started thinking.  Had she done anything?  She couldn’t remember anything that was worth calling the legal guardian over.  From her sister’s narrowing eyes, that was the wrong thing to do.  “Nothing!” Dawn quickly claimed, just about as sure as one could get.  “Honest, unless someone brainwashed me, or I was sleep walking and I can’t remember, there’s nothing I did.”  Buffy folded her arms across her chest, and looked even more dangerous.  “I swear it!” Dawn said again, exasperated this time, and then grunted in annoyance before turning around and walking back to her overly full room.  The sooner this First Evil situation was resolved, the better it was for the health of those little runts, Dawn decided, looking at was left of her room.

Buffy sighed, and then yelled, “Willow, Tara, anyone!  I’ve got to go talk to Dawn’s principal.  I’ll be right back!”

“Got it!” a voice called from around the corner.

Buffy grabbed her jacket, and left the house.  Outside she sighed, and then shuddered. “Quite.  I said quite.  I’m a grown up, an /English/ grown up.  I’ll be in a grave tomorrow.”   With a whimper she walked off; after a moment fed up with it, and just blasted off.

*****

Buffy was in the waiting area of the building.  She had taken the newfangled, modern grand design in, and didn’t quite know what to think of it.  Was all smooth, and whitish, and polished and the secretary was sitting behind that lovely counter . . . actually, she did know what to think of it; it gave her the creeps - it felt like a hospital.  Robin had just asked her in his office, and on his way there she quickly asked the secretary his name.  The raven-haired girl quickly gave it, and Buffy entered.  “Alright, Mr. Wood,” Buffy said, looking at the bald black guy as he moved over to a large wooden closet standing at the right wall.  His desk was standing diagonally, and Buffy only barely took it, him and the closet in, as she said haste, “what’s she done?”

“Huh?” Wood answered smartly as he opened the closet.

“Dawn.  What’s she done?  That /is/ why I’m here, isn’t it?” Buffy repeated, still hasty, but now a little annoyed and confused added to it.

“Oh, no, no, you misunderstood, Ms. Summers,” Robin said with a smile, as the closet finished opening revealing three rows of very sharp weapons; from axes, swords, to a few stakes.  There was also a shield.  Buffy’s eyes widened in surprise and confusion at the display. “I know who you are, and I’ve asked you to say that I want in, I want to help,” Robin added, walking over to his desk and leaning on it.

“You do?” Buffy asked him some more surprised.

“Yes, and I also have something that might be of help,” Robin said again, looking at the blonde.  “I’m somewhat of a demon hunter myself, you should know me, I think.  I don’t know how high I’m ranking on the Watchers’ information list.”  Buffy looked even more confused now, so Robin explained, “I’m Nikki Wood’s son . . . New York Slayer, seventies?”

“A Slayer had a child?” Buffy asked surprised.

Robin smiled and nodded, “I see not very high.  I can’t say I’m surprised.  She had me when she was still a Potential though.  It’s the reason for what I have, which I think might be useful.”  He opened a drawer of his desk and placed an old, old, old looking leather pouch on the table.  “The Slayer survival kit, or that’s what I can make of it.  After my mother was killed, I was raised by her watcher, and it somehow got into my possession.  I’m not quite sure on what it does, or is supposed to do though, can’t read the language.  I think it’s Akkadian or something.”

Buffy shook herself out of her revery, and said, “Okay.”  She took a step forward and examined the pouch.  “Well, we’re stumped, so anything that might possibly help we’ll take.”

“I must say, I was rather surprised at seeing a Slayer in school,” Robin said absentmindedly.  Buffy frowned a little.  Robin continued, “I’ve never known a Watcher to put her Slayer in school, but then I again, I’ve never known a school to be built right on top of a Hellmouth either.  Once I saw Dawn do some of the things she did, I knew she was the Slayer . . .”  Buffy’s eyes were wide, staring dully at the desk just below the Slayer survival kit.  It couldn’t be!  How could it be!  There was just no way, she must have understood wrong.  “. . . which made you her watcher, obviously, so I contacted you,” Robin finished with a smile.

Buffy was frozen on the spot, and zone away as Robin went to say some more things about wanting to help and stuff, which she picked /nothing/ up from.  She looked down in shock, while horror slowly grew.   Several nightmares were there about her attire, but no: lovely naked legs, a purple tight skirt to just above her knees, and a lovely, tight, green and light-blue, low-cut sweater with long sleeves.  Not a single shred of tweed in sight!?  What was it!?  What was it that made her stand out as a British stick in the mud with no sex drive?  Her hair!?  Could it have been her hair!?  Did she put in a tight bun or something?  No, no, she could still feel her lovely long strands of blonde hair touch her shoulders and a little lower on her back.  Loose long hair, nothing particularly Watchery.  And the first time she met the guy? No, she couldn’t have worn tweed, she doesn’t own tweed!  And her hair had been in a pony tail, wasn’t it?  Right, pony tails are /not/ watcher material.  Her makeup!  Her makeup: her lips were red, she remembered putting on red lipstick after her hot night with her boyfriend to give him another sexy goodbye kiss and a nice vision before leaving.  And back then?  College had come after, she was certain she hadn’t put on makeup as if she were a eighty-year-old lady?!  Oh, my god, she must have picked up a look from Giles or something!  A smile, or how she used her eyes.  This was horrible!  Horrible!  She wasn’t ready to die the death of a billion pains!  She could /not/  have anything that reminded anyone of a Watcher.  It just couldn’t be! Speech patterns?  Oh, god!   She had said ‘quite’ earlier hadn’t she!?  Oh, horror!  No! NOOOOO!!!

“Shall we go over to your house?”

“Huh?” Buffy managed to pull herself half out of her nightmares to look up at Wood, and pay just a bit attention.

“To find out if that helps,” Robin clarified, indicating the bag.

Buffy looked over, her mind grasping what was being said with some difficulty and managed, “Yeah, okay.  You’re car?  I came f-walking.”

*****

The ride had been rather uneventful, with Buffy mostly staring ahead of her trying to deal with the horror.  They arrived quickly and went up to the door.  Buffy opened it and walked left into the living room almost like a zombie.  Xander, Dawn, Willow and Tara were present, as was of course the general presence of Potentials, along with a few Watchers.  Isabella and Giles two of them.

After a moment of silence, Buffy managed to get enough of her wits together to say, “Uh, this is Robin Wood, son of Nikki Wood.”

Almost everyone looked blankly at the introduction.  Giles was the exception, and said with revelation, “The Slayer Nikki Wood.”

“Whoa,” Isabella muttered, while there were other sounds of surprise.

From the kitchen came the sound of some annoyed muttering, “Bloody, annoying, sodding, stinking . . . I should just . . .”  The door to the kitchen opened, revealing a Watcher cooking being helped by several Potentials, while a few very little ones were also ‘helping’, which was more playing than anything else.  They were partially obscured by the one who had opened the door and sauntered into the living room: Spike.  His black duster hung loosely around him.

“*YOU!*”  The yell of pure rage startled everyone, including the Spike the one it was aimed at, and he just looked at the bald black man with casual air of detachment.  “YOU THINK I’D FORGET YOU!?”

“Nope, nobody forgets me,” Spike casually answered, and Robin charged with rage at the vampire, pulling out a stack.  Before he got half-way to the vampire he was lifted off his feet, not that that stopped him from continuing his running motion, which meant he was uselessly cycling his legs in the air.

“LET ME GO!  DAMN IT!  HE’S A VAMPIRE AND HE KILLED MY MOTHER!” Robin yelled out angrily, snarling with hate.

Spike looked with a smirk at the black man being held up at his collar by Xander, comically still trying to run forward in mid air.  “I’ve killed lots of mothers - hey!  Are you the kid of the New York Slayer?” Spike said, making a recognition.  The hateful snarl Spike took as a ‘yes’, and he said, “She was one tasty morsel.  Snapped her neck, took this here coat from her, and then drained her dry.  Yum, yum.”

“RAAAAH!!!” Robin screamed while the others looked at the spectacle.

“AAAAH!” Spike screamed as he was hit by one Xander’s energy balls, which singed him good and he dropped to his knees.  “Bloody hell!” he groaned in pain.

Xander turned Robin around casually, and told the snarling man, “Calm down, Robin.   We’ve got a little deal going with the prick.  He helps us out, so long he’s still useful to us.”

“HE KILLED MY MOTHER!” Robin yelled at Xander.

“I don’t care, you’re not going to attack him for more reasons than one,” Xander told him sternly, looking ruthlessly into Robin’s eyes.  “One is our little deal with him, two is that you couldn’t hit him even if you tried, and three is that you couldn’t scratch him even if you could hit him; he’s a /lot/ more than some ordinary vamp.  But I’ll tell you what, the moment he’s no longer useful to us, the latest when we win our little war, you can dust Spike; I’ll even hold him down for you.  How’s that sound?”

Robin growled something unintelligible as Spike got up groaning in pain.  Then he nodded, and Xander slowly set him down.  “/You/ will pay,” Robin told Spike and the turned away.  As everyone sighed with relief, Robin took in Xander as he remembered what he did so easily and noticed the tail wrapped around his waist.  He blinked and then turned to Dawn who was leaning against the couch.  “Dawn, aren’t you supposed to kill demons, not work with them?” Robin asked confused and edgy.

“Huh?” Dawn said confused.

Robin nodded to Xander and Spike and said with a hint of anger, “You’re the Slayer . . .”

Before anyone even had the time to become surprised, Buffy surged forward, dropping the survival kit, and yelling, “THAT’S IT!”  She grabbed Robin by the front collar of his shirt with both hands, and easily lifted him off the floor.  “You /will/ tell me!  What is it!?  Huh, what is it!?”

“What’s what?” Robin managed surprised.

Willow leaned over to Tara at the same time and said to her, “This is getting repetitious.”   Tara nodded.

“Why do you think I’m a Watcher!?  TELL ME!  I’m not wearing tweed!  I’m not stuck up!  I’m loose!  I don’t have a British accent, there’s nothing British about me!  SO WHY THE HELL DO YOU THINK I’M A STUCK UP BRIT SO I CAN GET RID OF IT!?” Buffy questioned him angrily, almost desperately.  There were several snickers and otherwise exclaims of shocked disbelief.

“You’re . . . not . . . Dawn’s Watcher?” Robin asked confused and a little afraid at his second easy pick up of the day.

“OF COURSE /NOT/!!  /I’M/ THE SLAYER!!” Buffy thundered in horrified anger.

“Wha . . .?” Robin asked surprised, looking with open mouth from Buffy to Dawn and back again.  “But, I saw her.  With being missed by gunshots, and supernatural hunting, and smashing her fist into a tree . . .”

“Training, lots, and lots of hard training,” Dawn answered with an apologetic shrug.

Robin looked in shock at Dawn, who just shrugged.  Xander made himself comfortable, arms across his chest and casually third-leaned, third-sat, and third stood on the table, smiling a wry smile.  Robin returned to the angry Buffy and said, “Nothing.  Nothing British on you or in you.  All a misunderstanding . . . it’s just with Dawn’s abilities . . .”

“Nothing British?” Buffy asked sweetly relieved.

“Nothing, honest,” Robin answered, shaking his head.

Buffy sighed relieved and put Robin down, then promptly fainted with her relief.  Dawn moved quickly and caught her before she landed painfully on the hard floor.  Dawn looked down at the blonde, and then shook her head, saying, “My sister’s such a loser.”

“And she’s supposed to be the Slayer?” Wood asked dumbfounded at the unconscious Buffy.  The Scooby Gang slowly walked over and took a better look.  Several whisperings and giggles came from some of the Potentials, which usually got glares from others: the ones saved by Buffy not liking their personal hero slandered.

“Well,” Willow started with a pout, “you haven’t seen her good sides, she’s got good sides.”

“The one where she singlehandedly kicked the buts of two giant stone cherubs comes to mind,” Tara pointed out, nodding in agreement with Willow.

“Too bad for every bit of good there’s usually a /huge/ bad,” Dawn replied sourly, drawing the looks of all the Scoobies, and Giles.  “Hey, I’m her younger sister, it’s my duty to humiliate her.”

“Well, she’s firmly in the plus in my book,” Xander commented, defending his friend.

“Definitely,” Tara added.

“Uhuh,” Willow said nodding.

“Indeed,” Giles said in his stiff upper lip manner.

“Not with me,” Dawn disagreed shaking her head.  They looked at her again.  “Again, younger sister here,” she replied, rolling her eyes.

“Definitely in the minus ‘ere,” Spike drawled from his position near the kitchen door. Now the Scoobs looked over at him.  “Hey, evil, soulless, killing machine, what do you expect from me?”

“Doesn’t that mean if you don’t like her that says a lot of good things about her?” Isabella asked with a frown.

Spike blinked, and then said, “Ah, bloody hell.”  The Scoobs grinned at him.

Buffy moaned then, and slowly came too.  She frowned for a moment at her diagonal position, noticing Dawn smoothly holding her off the floor with one hand, and then got up. “What happened?”

“You lost it, then were so relieved you don’t have British blood in you, you fainted,” Dawn said tersely.  Buffy blushed a little, then added, “Don’t worry, I made people forget all about it.”

“By humiliating her even more,” Xander observed coolly.

“Oh, thanks a lot, sis,” Buffy said sarcastically.

“No problem, what are sisters for?” Dawn returned with a nice smile.

“Ugh,” Buffy said, and then frowned, “Where were we?  Oh, yeah, son of Slayer wants to help and thought this might do the trick.”  Buffy picked up the emergency survival bag once again, and placed it on the table.

Everyone looked expectantly at the bag, and nothing happened.  “Okay, I suppose we open it,” Willow said and went over.  She opened the bag, and Dawn and Xander went through it with her.  “Oh, look, books, weapons,” Willow said happily and placed a few daggers, some short axes and a stake on the table, along with several books.

“Nothing special there,” Buffy said with an expectant smile.

“And a box,” Xander muttered, pulling out a reddish wooden box locked with a lock.

“Oh, brilliant,” Spike sighed in annoyance, and said, “Hey, boy wonder, how did you get this amazing piece of nothing again?”

Robin glared over at the blonde, and hissed, “It belonged to my mother, and instead going to the next Slayer it came into my possession, you fucking . . .”

“Yes, YES!” Xander interrupted the two, and snapped off the lock.  “Let’s see what’s inside,” Xander said, and opened the lid.  Everyone stared at the contents in dumbfoundment: another book, and several black shapes or dolls.

“Uh, not to be too pessimistic,” Dawn spoke up with a raised finger, making everyone look at her, and then asked, “but exactly how crappy and useless can this thing be if some Watchers didn’t bother taking it from the little boy who lost his mother?”

Robin looked over at Dawn with some anger, and Spike said, “That’s what I was trying to say, but do you let me, noooo . . .”

“*Shut up, Spike!*” Buffy ordered sharply and then turned to her sister, “You’re in rare form today, aren’t you, /sis/?”

Dawn shrugged, and said, “My boyfriend is grounded.”  They looked at her with narrowed eyes, which Dawn tossed aside without any difficulty.

“Intriguing,” Giles said to interrupt the useless conversation, and reached over to the box. Wiggling with the dolls he managed to get the book without tossing the dolls out of the book. “It’s in Sumerian.”

“Dolls?  What, the First is going to flee from dolls?” Xander asked and scratched his head.

“They’re shadow-casters,” Tara explained as Dawn walked over to Giles, and checked out the book with him.  “Put them in the right order and they tell a story.”

“Apparently he hates stories instead?” Willow suggested uncertain.

Giles looked at Dawn and Tara, and asked, “You two think my old brain is giving up or something?”

“I was more thinking, three heads are better than one,” Tara said with a smile.

“The book says you can’t just watch, you have to see,” Giles said with a frown.

“Oh, grand, cryptic mojo, I hate cryptic mojo, things never go as you bloody want, or expect, or . . .” Spike complained in annoyance.

“Spike,” Buffy warned with annoyance.  “Have to see what?” Buffy asked Giles as Spike shut up.  Isabella came over and grabbed the flat, black figures from the box.

“It’s an origin story . . . of the Slayer I think,” Giles said, resetting his glasses to read better.

“Yep,” Dawn said, and Tara nodded.

“It can’t hurt to play it,” Isabella said, holding up the figures.  The Scoobs looked at each other and nodded.

A little later the room was made even darker than necessary to keep Spike from combusting.  A small line on which the dolls fit was standing on the table, in the middle of which was a burning candle.  Everyone was intently staring at the contraption.  “Okay, you put all the puppets on one by one at the right order,” Giles said reading from the book, “first there’s the Earth.”

Isabella put something that she figured represented the Earth on one slot, and it cast a ghostly shadow on the wall.  Sound from a tribal drum suddenly fills the room.  “Oh, that’s just creepy,” Isabella said, looking around if she could spot anything from which the sound could have come.  Everyone else was doing it as well for a few moments.  “I hate creepy,” she added.

“Who bloody doesn’t?  It’s like they couldn’t come up with some good old terror, no . . . they had to be underachievers and go for a mere unsettling feeling,” Spike commented annoyed, his arms across his chest and looked down at the table.

“Well, I suppose we continue,” Giles said and looked back down at the book with Tara and Dawn looking with him.  “Then came the demons,” Giles read.  Isabella put the figure that looked like a roaring or biting down monster on the wheel.  The figure cast a shadow and growling sounds joined the drumbeat.  “After demons, there came men,” Giles translated with raised eyebrows.  Isabella put a man on the wheel, and chanting sounds joined the drumbeat and growls.  “Men found a girl,” Giles read, and Isabella put the girl on it.  A girl’s scream joined the sounds.  “The men took the girl to fight the demons, they chained her to the Earth and . . . I can’t read this, something about darkness.”

“I don’t think that’s actually Sumerian,” Tara said with a frown, “it’s as if nobody wanted anyone to read it, as if . . .”  The wheel started spinning on its own then, the shadows spinning on the walls, who miraculously started moving on their own, acting out the story.

“Well, that’s actually rather neat,” Xander said, looking around the wall, making everyone look at him for a moment.

“So what about this darkness?” Willow asked curiously.

Giles raised his eyebrows once again, and said, “It says you cannot be shown.  You cannot just watch, but you must see.  See for yourself, but only if you're willing to make the exchange.”

“Whoa!” Isabella said, standing up straight, and looking at the shadows.  Everyone looked as well, as the shadows showed a demon attacking the girl.  The wheel spun faster and faster then, until a blue column appeared in the middle, which then expanded into a window, or door frame with a flash.

“Bloody hell, I hate portals,” Spike muttered looking at the thing.  Several of the Scoobs took careful steps forward and examined it up close.

“I guess I have to go through then,” Buffy said a apprehensively, “It’s about the Slayer, I’m the Slayer . . . or at least /a/ Slayer.  Do you think Faith has to do this?”

“A Slayer is a Slayer,” Xander said with an unsure shrug.

“But not quite,” Giles pointed out.

“I’m not the expert here,” Robin interjected, raising his hand to get more attention, “but we don’t even know what kind of exchange, or if anyone, Buffy or . . . there are /two/ Slayers?”  He shook his head, and finished, “. . . the other one is ready for this.”

Buffy looked up at Xander and they shared a quick glance.  Then they smiled at each other, and Buffy jumped through the hole.  “Oh, great,” a Watcher muttered, and then with another flash the portal disappeared, only to on beforehand spit out an ugly demon.  Xander smoothly caught it by the neck before it could even land, dangling it about the floor, holding Xander’s arm desperately and gasping in air through Xander’s steel grip.  The wheel had stopped turning, the shadows were once more still, and no more sound came out of nowhere.

“Well,” Tara said, taking a step forward and examining the demon, “I guess we through this back through the portal and we get Buffy back, demon for a Slayer and reverse.”  Xander smoothly snapped the demon’s neck, and dropped it unceremoniously to the floor, eliciting gasps from many.  Tara took another step toward the demon, and looked down at it.  “Of course, I’m not sure a dead demon still works,” Tara said somewhat perturbed.

“Oops?” Xander said embarrassed, making several people groan.

“Don’t worry,” Tara said with a grin, “even with no sacrifice, I’m pretty sure we can get Buffy back.”  Tara reached out her hand and felt where the portal had been, “Yep, I can still feel a weakness in space and time here, that makes it even easier, and between Willow and me we have more than enough power to get it going, and then pull Buffy back no matter what.”

“Oh, good,” Xander said relieved he hadn’t fatally screwed up.

“That really leaves just one question,” Giles observed calmly.  Everyone looks over at him.  “How long do we wait?”  They all looked around.  “Buffy will need some time to investigate and see what this is all about after all,” he added.

“Good question,” Xander observed, and said, “Very good question.”

*****

“Ow!” Angel yelled, and grabbed his shin, hopping on his right leg.  The little girl quickly ran off giggling, while her companion kicked him in the other leg.  “Aargh!” he exclaimed, threatening to lose his balance.  He completely lost it when a troop of potentials barreled into him, and then over him.  He slammed into the ground of the living room, and two dozen feet trampled over him.  “Ooh, aah, argh, hey, watch it!” he exclaimed before they finished running over him, and barreled up the stairs.

“Ow,” he groaned and started getting up.  “AAARGH!” he exclaimed in extreme pain as a foot solidly connected with his head.  He was lifted off of the floor a bit and then landed back down.  “Oaaaaaahhh!” Angel groaned feeling his extremely tender head and jaw, then angled up to look at the potential that kicked him so hard.

“Oh, I’m really sorry there, Mr. Angel,” Molly said, pointing at the couch he had been lying behind, “just your head stuck out, and I could have sworn it was a football.”  There was a snicker, and Angel looked around, seeing the two Watchers sitting on the couch and looking back over it.  Obviously they weren’t inclined to help him.

He turned back to Molly and groaned disbelieving and painfully, actually returning partially to his Irish accent, “Bloody hell!  Never heard of not playing ball inside a house?”

Molly thought for a moment, and then with a short shake of her head answered, “No.”   Then she was off.

“Oh,” Angel muttered and groaningly got up.  The Watchers snickered again, looking at him.  “And you couldn’t have stopped any of that, helped, or at least punished them?”

The left Watcher snickered and said, “No.  Think about it, if we help, you’d lose any remaining respect they might have for you.  Only makes it worse.”

“AAH!” Angel yelled out as a rugby ball slammed into his already painful head.

“Oh, my god!  I’m really sorry there, Mr. Angel,” the new arrival said from the kitchen, quickly going for her bouncing ball, “I didn’t see you there.”

“*Ball playing /not/ inside house!*” Angel hissed out painfully, punctuating every word. She grabbed her ball, and smiled nervously, then ran off to go outside.

“W-why are they doing this?” Angel muttered in pain, disgusted.  “They don’t try you, they don’t mess with Xander, they’re not going after Wesley, I’m guessing not now, and certainly not back at Buffy’s house.”

“Oh, that’s easy.”  Angel looked up and saw a smile on Fred’s face.  She came over and gently touched his face, walking him over to the corner high table and set him down in a chair.   She examined his jaw, and explained, “Xander has the respect of a good chunk of the girls; he saved their lives, the others want to marry him.  They know the Watchers too well.  Faith fenced off Wesley and they respect her because she saved her life or they saw or heard about the fencing and are scared to death of her.  Finally, you’re a demon-animated, immortal corpse, in short, you’re a vampire.”

“Oh, great,” Angel muttered in annoyance.

“You need to earn their respect, Angel,” Fred said softly, and said, “This isn’t so bad, some ice might help though.”

“Wanna help?” Angel asked pitifully.

Fred shook her head and then said, “Don’t respect me either, not attitude enough.”  She looked down in shame.

*****

The ancient past

Buffy landed on the sandy ground, and looked around.  No portal in sight, no houses in sight, in fact, no plant in sight, except that dead tree.  She was in a desert and it was hot too.  In front of her were mountains, and having nothing better to go on, she shrugged and started walking toward them.

Weird.  She could have sworn the mountains had been far away.  She had just been about to start flying, but now already, almost suddenly, she was at the foot of the mountain range. Another dead tree was nearby, and Buffy became aware of three black-skinned men in robes standing there, each one carried a long wooden ornate staff.  She frowned and walked over. “Uh, high guys, I don’t suppose . . .” Buffy trailed off confused, as the men formed a circle, or a triangle around her.

“You have arrived,” one of the men said.  Buffy frowned, the sounds the man had produced had most certainly not been English.  His mouth had moved nothing like English. And yet, in her mind, it was as if he had spoken English.

“To the beginning and the end,” the second one spoke, in the same non-English English.

“Say, how come I can understand you?” Buffy asked confused.

“Now we can begin,” the third said, still in their own language, that Buffy heard as not English, but understood as English.

“Oh, right, ancient magics,” Buffy answered for them, and rolled her eyes a bit, both at the men, as well as her own rather dumb question.

“You are the last protector of the Hellmouth,” the first man said once again.

“Huh!?” Buffy exclaimed in confusion.  “Boy, are you wrong.  I’m not the last, I’m not even the latest.  Especially if you count those who aren’t Slayers.  So what’s your deal here?”

The man behind her brought his staff down and gently tapped Buffy on the shoulder.  A pulse of light pored through Buffy, who shuddered, and then fell unconscious.

*****

With a groan Buffy woke up, and took stock of her position.  She was on a cool ground in cool air . . . and she was chained.  She got up quickly and became aware of the men standing in a half-circle in front of her.  A small fire in the middle of them, provided light, a little warmth, and a nice orange, creepy setting, with shadows dancing on the cave walls.  Buffy stood up and tucked the chains for a moment.  “What the hell?” she asked annoyed.  “What are you doing!?”

“What we brought you here for,” the second man said calmly, and the first man in the middle brought out a red box.

“Huh?  You got that backward, I /came/ you did not /bring/ me,” Buffy corrected him, and then saw them rhythmically start to stamp their staffs on the ground.  An inky black tentacle covered in equally black smoke started coming from the box.  “What the hell?” Buffy muttered astonished.

“The source of your power,” the third man intoned solemnly, their thumping continuing.

The first took over, “The spirit, the essence . . .”  The black cloud moved forward, growing bigger more cloudy.

“The heart of a demon,” the second finished carefully, and more tentacles formed from the cloud, all going toward Buffy.

“WHAT!?” Buffy exclaimed in disbelief.  One tentacle reached her nose and tried to enter, but a little chi easily repelled the thing.  So the black cloud tried to find other places to enter, encircling her.  “What the hell are you talking about!?  There’s nothing demonic inside of me!”

“You are wrong,” the third said simply, as the demon tried to go up Buffy’s skirt, but there it found she was just as guarded by invisible energy.

“We will give you more power,” the first took over, looking at Buffy who was starting to get more and more annoyed.

“I don’t need more power, I’ve got more than plenty.  What we need is knowledge.  How do we destroy the First Evil.  /That/ is what I came here for!” Buffy said in anger, continuing to repel the demon with her life force.  “Besides, this thing is pathetic.  It couldn’t give me more power even if it were ten times more powerful.”

“The First did not talk this much,” the second told the others, and they nodded in agreement, and stopped their thumping, apparently no longer necessary.

“Wait . . .” Buffy frowned, as the implication of that statement hit her.  The demon cloud was completely encircling her now, trying to simply force its way in, but wasn’t really successful.  “Are you saying, that you put a defenseless girl here, chained her up, and then stuffed a demon down her throat!?”

“As it was before, so shall it be again,” the third man said casually.

“You . . . you can’t do that!  That’s wrong!  That’s sick,” Buffy exclaimed in horror at what the girl had to have gone through, and was going through - if she wasn’t dead already.

“It’s the way we’ve always done it,” the first said.  The three gave each other an uncomprehending look, obviously not seeing the problem.

“Alright, that’s it,” Buffy snarled, angry now, “I’m done with this.  You obviously can’t help me, so I’ll show the power of the real Slayer!”  With simple ease she snapped the chains, not even exerting herself, or really yanking.  With a yell her chi flame erupted visible around her, tossing the cloudy demon up and off of her as it was nothing.  With an angry scream at the sick twisted thing, she tossed a continuous wave of her chi at it.  Her right hand outstretched, she simply extended her chi-flame itself into a forward beam.  It collided with the demon that was coiling at the ceiling, and ripped through it.  The cloud writhed and screeched and then was torn apart, the smoke and black inky energy bursting outward, and then dissipating.

The men looked in shocked surprise at the event: it shouldn’t be possible.  “You fucking bastards, using a little magical power to chain a defenseless girl, and then forcing a demon inside of her.  Did you get off on the power or something!?” Buffy snarled, and he right leg collided with the second man’s stomach, sending him flying back with a yell of pain.  As he slammed against the wall, Buffy moved rapidly and slammed her left fist against the right man, number three.  She stopped directly in front of the middle and first man, and hissed at him, “When really you are the weak ones.  You’re pathetic.  You’re cowards.  You didn’t have the guts to fight the demons yourself, so you got a girl, got a demon to possess her and let her do the fight for you, you sick . . .”  Buffy broke down her sentence in a snarl and raised her right hand, a rapidly twisting ball of orange energy, made up of countless small circles formed.  The man was now very frightened as his companions very slowly, and groaning tried to get up.   “Ah!” Buffy screamed with anger and frustration and slammed the ball of energy forward in the man’s chest.  He was immediately launched backward, spinning counter clockwise through the air.  With a moan he slammed in the cave’s back wall.  Buffy stalked forward toward him, took his staff and slammed it too pieces.  A little light show showed its power had gone.  “You sicken me.  You- . . .”  Buffy stopped, blinked and then suddenly turned and looked to her right with a frown.

*****

Several kilometers out, under the night sky, a tragedy was taking place.  A black-skinned girl white paint on her growled.  She was surrounded by multiple demons and vampires, who then jumped.  She kicked and snarled and punched.  One demon was sent flying back, a vampire dusted, another demon clutched its pirate, a female demon staggered back after a powerful punch to her head . . . but it wasn’t enough.  There almost three dozen, and it was but one girl. Even if the girl had greater power than all but a few of the demons, they simply outnumbered her too greatly.  They brought her down, piled on top of her.  The demons happily ignored the small light . . . there was an explosion and one demon was torn to pieces, blood guts and body parts strewn about, covering the other demons, the vampires and the girl.  Next there was nothing but a blur.  Demons’ head were torn off, as were other body parts, a heart was simply ripped out of a chest, dusting the vampire in who it belonged to in the process.  Several more explosions, some more blood and guts spraying, and it was all over . . . well, not quite.

The scene was gruesome, a pile of strewn about dead demons and parts, and two remaining girls.  One Asian standing over the black-skinned, painted one, the former the look of a hunter relishing a recent and soon to be kill on her face.  The Asian’s head was stretched down at the other, a ball of energy pointing at her.  The black girl growled at the Asian.  The Asian’s look broke, eyes widening with confusion first, then turning to a frown.  “What the . . .?” the Asian muttered, “demon, soul . . . soul, demon?”

She let the energy ball dissipate and squat down, looking at the still growling girl.  Their eyes met, and the Asian thought she saw a somewhat kindred spirit.  “Are you possessed?” she asked, but the girl didn’t seem to understand her language.  She did understand the tone, and the expression though: friendly.  Nor did she sense anything that indicated she was one of those that had to be destroyed.  And she was obviously the one that destroyed the prey.  So the black girl got to her hands and knees and started to examine her fellow hunter.  Sniffing, growling, taking her in fully.  The Asian smiled at the action, and was also disturbed by it, almost as if the girl was an animal - or a demon.  “Li-Nang,” the Asian said, placing her hand on her chest.  She repeated the gesture a few times while repeating the name, “Li-Nang.”

The black girl growled questioningly at first, and then seemed to understand.  She pointed at her own chest and said, “Anahid.”

Li-Nang suddenly looked up and off to her right, frowning.  “Wow, that’s quite a bit of power,” she said, and then got up.  “Let’s investigate.”  The black girl followed her standing, then got up herself, obviously uncomprehending her very different language.  Li-Nang grabbed, Anahid, and then blasted off before she could do anything.  She went ever faster.

*****

Buffy stood, watching at the point, the point where the entrance or from her position the exit of the cave lay.  The three men were confused at Buffy’s behavior, but soon got an answer. An Asian girl with the same flame of energy as Buffy came from behind the wall and looked wearily at the scene.  A black girl soon followed.  Buffy’s eyes were on the powerful one though, as the men looked at Anahid.  Then Buffy’s eyes widened as the Asian’s face came into the light.  She pointed her right index finger at Li-Nang surprised, and exclaimed, “You’re the First Slayer!”

The men looked confused at each other.  “I am, and who are you, that you should know that?” Li-Nang’s Asian voice sounded, but was understood by Buffy in English.  “And why do I understand you, when you clearly do not speak my language?”

“Magic of those bastards, and I’m Buffy, I’m a Slayer,” Buffy said, as Anahid looked around the cave, noticing the snapped chains.

“Hmm, if you know I’m the First Slayer, you should know there’s but one,” Li-Nang said with suspicion.

“Oh, I’m from the future!” Buffy said in awe.  This was the girl that had never been chosen, she chose.  This was the girl who hadn’t given her power, she had taken it.  She was the one who didn’t need to accept it, she had wanted it, chosen it, taken it.  She was in that manner the exact opposite of Buffy, who had hated what she had been given for so long.  Ever since her acceptance of what she was, and realizing that wasn’t a bad thing, her little healing revelation, this girl, the First Slayer, Buffy had come to admire: a secret personal hero.

“Rah!  Men!  Chains!  Put in!  Change me!” Anahid snarled angrily, slamming her fists on the ground in anger, but obviously staying back, still afraid of the men after they had done so easily what they had done to her.  She pointed at them, growled, and looked up with hope at her new friend.  Li-Nang looked at the girl and was surprised she could understand her, but she was obviously still not fully human, and talked that easily.  Must have been the demon, the one if she deciphered Anahid’s short words correctly the men had placed into her.  That made her very angry.

Buffy took in the black girl, and sensed the demon in her.  She whirled back to the men, and told them angrily, “That’s the one you did it to, you bastards!”  Buffy turned back to the men, and then stopped.  She turned back to Anahid again, and took her in with surprise.   Anahid in turn studied Buffy suspiciously.  *Whoa!* Buffy thought with a hanging mouth, surprised with all the surprises this little trip had brought, *I guess you weren’t entirely a figment of my imagination.*  Indeed Anahid’s appearance was the avatar Buffy’s mind had given the Slayer spirit inside of her: considered the First Slayer at first.

Buffy became aware of Li-Nang’s still suspicious, and angry scrutiny of herself.  She realized she didn’t quite believe Buffy yet, especially since she was with the men who had hurt her now obvious friend, a girl she thought protectively.  How was Buffy going to prove her claim?  It instantly came to her.  “I can prove what I said,” Buffy told the First Slayer, “Watch.”  Buffy powered up, her chi-flame intensifying by the moment.  Li-Nang did the same, making sure to stay with her, so as not to be caught of guard from an attack after being so much powered up.

Buffy reached her apex, and started to scream with the effort, throwing her head in the back of her neck.  The ground and cave started shaking, and Anahid looked fearfully around. Buffy’s hair started lifting in the air by electric arcs, and fell back down once they reached the end.  The cave rumbled even more, and then her chi flame changed color to blue, along with it a small shock wave ran out, instantly destroying the fire.  At the same time the cave shook even more, the ground burst open around Buffy, cracks formed in the walls, and several small rocks came loose from the ceiling.  The light in the cave was now provided by the twin columns of sky-blue flame; Li-Nang’s transformation had gone much, much smoother.  The three men looked with shock at the two True Slayers, more so when managed a glimpse of Li-Nang’s eyes.  The power the two were exhibiting, power the magically inclined men could easily feel and gauge, was immense - far in excess of their wildest dreams.  Anahid noticed Buffy’s black-holed eyes, and shrank back even more.  She looked over at her friend, who to her surprise was just as blue, and who’s hair was similarly waving above by electricity.  Since Li-Nang’s eyes were turned away from her, she couldn’t see them, but she was pretty certain they too were the same as the blonde’s.  Anahid looked from one to the other and back again, and realizing her rescuer and the new girl were the same, lost her fear of the blonde.  In fact she took several steps toward Buffy and examined her up close.

“You really are a Slayer,” Li-Nang said, taking in the Slayer across from her, and broke into a smile.  “The future, you said?”  Buffy nodded with a smile.  “Good, then I can see I made the right choice.”

“Oh, you did!  You definitely did!  I’m in awe here.  It’s such honor to meet you, the First Slayer.  You’re so amazing . . . Uh, sorry, for the fangirl outburst,” Buffy rambled out, and finished embarrassedly.

Anahid in the meantime had moved forward, and growled at the stunned three medicine men.  She growled at them angrily.  Buffy turned around and she and Li-Nang stepped forward, standing together, flanking Anahid on either side, to face the men.  “You are going to pay for what you did, right after you get that thing you put in her back out, got that?” Buffy growled at them.

Just then, there was a crackling and a new light filled the cave.  The Slayers turned around and watched a white portal form.  “My friends,” Buffy realized, and looked at Li-Nang, “they’re calling me home.”

“You go,” Li-Nang told her, and pointed at the men, “I’ll deal with them and get them to reverse what they did to Anahid.  And if they can’t, I know a few people with enough magic to manage it.”

“Alright, thank you,” Buffy said and started toward the portal, detransforming.  Then she stopped and turned back, “Uh, I don’t suppose you know anything about something called the First Evil, most importantly how to destroy it, do you?”

Li-Nang was turned back as well, and answered, “No, sorry.”

“Figures, it couldn’t be that easy,” Buffy said a little disappointed.  “Goodbye, and goodbye Anahid.”

“Bye, Buffy,” the feral girl happily said, waving.  Li-Nang gave Buffy a nod, before she jumped through and disappeared.  A moment later a demon appeared, and the portal disappeared.  Anahid walked over and gave the demon a kick.  It didn’t react; it was already dead.

“Well, now, where were we,” Li-Nang said, turning back to the cowering men.  She slapped her right fist in the open palm of the other hand, and said, “Oh, yes, remove the demon, and pain.”

*****

The Present

The whole group sat in the Summers’ household.  Bored and waiting, not much to do when you were waiting.  A few had gotten a book though and were reading.  “It’s been an hour, I think even my sister should be able to accomplish whatever in that time,” Dawn said.

Xander picked up the dead demon, and nodded, “I say Dawn is right.  Willow, Tara.”

The witches nodded and they performed a little magic, going into a trance, and placing their hands facing where the portal had been earlier.  They glowed and gently chanted and then the portal opened once again.  Xander tossed the demon through, and then with a flash Buffy landed in front of them, the portal disappearing.

“Buffy!” Willow exclaimed a little relieved.

“Were you expecting the Hulk?” Buffy asked wryly.

“So?  Anything useful?” Xander asked, bringing the whole event back on track.

“Utterly, and totally . . . useless,” Buffy said frustrated.  She turned around and blasted the shadow dolls and the back to bits.  “Dawn was right.”

“Of course I was,” Dawn said coolly.

Buffy continued, “This has nothing to do with the Slayer, let alone the First Evil.   Although I know there’s another reason than a Super Slayer went berserk and killed everything in her path why the Watchers thought the Slayers had demons in them.  Apparently three stupid bastards decided it was fun to create their own Slayer by stuffing a demon spirit into a girl they had chained to the ground.  It’s no wonder the Watchers didn’t consider the stupid emergency bag important.”

“That’s not nice,” Tara pointed out.

“No, not particularly.  I did get to meet the /real/ First Slayer though, she was awesome. And she’s also back there making sure the men take the demon back out of the girl,” Buffy said, pointing over her shoulder to where the Portal had been.  “How about dinner?”

To Be Continued . . .

And another bust.  The First Evil is mightily elusive, but next time it’ll step up its plans.  The whole group will have to face it in many of its disguises.  Can Faith handle the Mayor and her victims?  Can Fred handle Gunn?  Can Angel handle Drusilla and his victims once more?  Can Xander handle Jesse?  And can Dawn handle her own mother?  Find out next time on Buffy Z - Episode 84: Conversations with Dead People.