Summary: BtVSHP x-over. Will be slash…

Disclaimer: if you think any of this is mine, tell the voices in your head to get examined…

Prologue We regret to inform you…

Waking up was always the worst part. While asleep he could always forget about the collection of hurts and aches that any apocalypse-veteran became accustomed to. But as soon as he woke up they'd assault him all at the same time, fighting for his attention. Afterwards it became more manageable and he would shower letting most of the sleep induced kinks swirl down the drain with the warm water.

Most people who met him for the first time were surprised that a 28 year old could be as scarred as he was. Once they got to know him they were then surprised that he was as whole as he was. Besides his eye which he had lost long ago, and had been the very first body part lost, he had also managed to 'misplace' several fingers, some toes, and even a foot. Willow had attempted to re-grow them but only managed to replace them with life-like prosthetics. He only used the one for his foot though. The others were too much of a hassle to reattach each morning.

There was a reason, other than the friendly limb-reattaching Wicca, for his over all good health and that was his paranoia. It wasn't a recent acquisition but it had been honed over the years he had lived in Africa, searching for slayers and training them.

It seemed Africa was overrun with mafias who dealt in kidnapping and slavery which made his job just that much harder. He had to convince the confused can-easily-kick-your-ass slayers and their family's that he was trustworthy while at the same time dodging the mafias who thought he was trying to encroach in their business. It wasn't made at all easier when he found out the Big Boss's daughter was a slayer as well. Needless to say, once the mafia had all the information they started to REALLY chase after him. After all, who didn't want gorgeous and very powerful women as an escort coughslavecough?

So, waking up was always the worst. Half the time he didn't know if he'd find he'd been captured in the night and was to be tortured, or worse, he was exactly where he was supposed to be and now had to train slayers or convince a new family that he wasn't out to get them. Some days he'd rather be tortured.

But despite everything he always woke up. He took a deep breath, but otherwise didn't change his breathing patterns, simulating a deep sleep. The smell wasn't quite right, and now that he thought about it, neither was the temperature. He'd been in northern Africa the last thing he knew, it wasn't meant to be this humid or cool. Sniffing in a way that could be confused with the beginnings of a cold he analyzed the air as best he could. He wasn't the best but even he had learned to notice the telltale signs of approaching rain. Perhaps even a thunderstorm. He rolled around still pretending to be asleep and almost froze if it weren't for the years of training instilled in him.

He had two feet. They had bumped into each other as he turned. He knew that that one foot wasn't a fake. For one thing he always took the prosthetic off before bed, as per Dr.Wicca's instructions, and even if he had forgotten he had feeling in both appendages. He moved one foot slightly, caressing the other with the tip his toes. Yep, they were both his.

Still feigning sleep he considered the possibilities. Maybe he was dead? No, he doubted it since he ached all over. Was he miraculously healed? Now that he thought about it, the aches he had confused with his usual morning bouts had that distinctive magic feel about them. Maybe Will was involved? She was known to play with magic on her friends more than once… but then again he was supposed to be in Africa and from what he knew she was in Japan, a bit too big of a distance to be throwing magic around, even if it were to heal him. Plus he had talked to her the day before and he doubted she would do something like that without giving him a heads up first. If it happened to be her doing he was so killing her, after he gave her a big sloppy-Scooby kiss of course.

But still that didn't explain the difference in heat and humidity… hmmm… perhaps time-travel? Maybe he was back in Sunnydale High, about to meet his two best buds and sleep in history class. Tentatively touching around him he felt a raggedy sheet covering him and a worn mattress below. Not exactly familiar but not too terribly different that he'd throw the theory out the window without further proof.

The magical aches were acting up more than his usual aches ever did and he desperately wanted to take a shower, see if it worked as well as it did on his normal aches. In his explorations he realized that neither his arms nor legs were bound, so he was to assume he was safe… or so screwed that it didn't even mater.

Forcing himself to act sleepily he blinked his eyes open, determined to make sure that he was at least alone. Roving his eyes around the unfamiliar room he saw it was as worn as the bed he was on. At least the time-travel theory was out. An alternate reality maybe? There still seemed to be people stupid enough to make w-i-s-h-e-s.

Suddenly it hit him and he quickly drew a hand to his face, forgetting the sleepy-barely-awake act he had been following. His eyes! Or more importantly, his EYE! His second hand flew to his face so fast he almost slapped himself but even if he had it would have been beneath his notice. He had both eyes! Not even a prosthetic or a demonic substitute (Willow's idea, don't ask) but a full functional human born-and-bred eye!

He kept looking around not even really seeing anymore, simply drinking in the depth perception and 180º field vision that so many took for granted.

An odd noise brought him out of his happy stupor. 'So' he thought. 'I'm not alone after all…' Glancing around he finally noticed the room seemed oddly blurry. Now, he had never told anyone, but he had actually needed glasses when he was a younger, but hadn't managed to convince his parents of the fact. They were convinced he was just dumb. But after the hyena incident his eyes were better than ever, and his eyesight suddenly improving did nothing to deter his parents to think he was just out to spend their money in stupid knick-knacks. Over the years in Africa he had come to peace with the other sides of himself and brought them forth frequently to help deal with different situations.

Closing his eyes, (both eyes! Oh, he was never going to get used to this!) he called the hyena forth. There was a slight resistance, but he was not to be deterred. Both Hyena and Soldier had become as much a part of him as… well, as the bits of his mind they resided in and he refused to be parted with them. So tugging firmly on his connection with both he finally managed to get them through whatever had been keeping them back. He didn't notice any difference from before, but instinctively knew that now he once more had them within his reach.

Opening his eyes he immediately noticed the difference. The room had come into focus as sharply as had been the norm ever since he had been a hormonally charged teenager with a hyena in his head. Ah, good times.

He looked around, surprise etching into his features. Well, if the room had been unfamiliar before it was downright bizarre now! This definitely threw time-travel out the window!

The room was relatively neat (which was one of the first reasons he knew it could never have been his) with only a scatter of odd papers lying on the desk together with old fashioned inkwells with feathers sticking out of them. Broken toys were piled into a corner and a small shelf filled with dusty untouched books. A big chest rested at the foot of the worn bed he lay on as old fashioned as the equipment on the desk. But what clinched it form him, most definitely was the cage near the window… or actually the owl that seemed to be sleeping inside of it.

"Well," he spoke for the first time since waking. "I guess I'm not in Kansas anymore Toto."