Somewhere On The Road To Nowhere
Author: Lori Bush
Feedback: lwbush@charter.net
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, etc. own Buffy. You know the
routine. Elaine Maguire was one of my daughter's favorite sixth grade teachers,
and is modeled after the real woman.
Distribution: Let me know, 'kay? Any list it's sent to is
cool.
Summary: Another prophecy, but this one means that Buffy
Summers has to die, and become someone else.
Continuity: It's all over – Glory's gone down, Spike's
been dealt with
Pairing: B/X
Rating: PG-13
Author's notes: The entire "Fly" CD by the incredibly
talented Dixie Chicks inspired this story, especially the songs "Heartbreak
Town," and "Cold Day In July." I let Buffy sing "Goodbye Earl" in the story
just 'cos I love that song so much.
Unbeta'd.
~**~
Xander's been bugging me to start writing in this thing,
so here I am. He and Giles agreed before we left that there should be some kind
of record of our journey, and since what they feel is important has to do with
the whole Slayer me thing, I get stuck with the writing.
I wonder if it's okay for me to call him Xander in this?
I'm assuming that by the time anyone sees it, we'll be home again, safe, and
free of the need to disguise ourselves. Besides, it's so hard for me to
remember not to call him by name when we're out – by his real name, anyway. I
admit, I'm getting better, though. Yesterday he bumped the cart into me at the
grocery store, and I said, "Watch where you're going, Al." He said in the truck
afterwards that he was real proud of me, even if he did get yelled at. I just
call him "honey" most of the time, but he calls me "babe" a lot, so maybe he
has trouble remembering sometimes, too.
Oh, man, Buffy, just start in the middle, why not? This
"thing," first off, is a journal of my travels with Xander. It's meant to be a
supplement to Giles' Watcher's Diary, since he's not with us to report on
everything. I kinda figure it'll be a number of years before anyone actually
reads this, anyway, so some background would be of help. The reason we left
Sunnydale in the first place is probably a good place to start.
Things had been rough on all of us. Well, on me, mostly.
My mom had died, I was protecting my sister Dawn from this god, Glory, who
wanted her, although she didn't know it was her, exactly, as a Key to open the
door to some demon dimension. This stuff's all in Giles's Diary, so I don't
need to go back over it, except the important stuff to the story here. We
managed to beat Glory, but as she was going down, there was this huge flash of
energy expelled, right at me. Xander, being him and all, threw himself in front
of me, and we were both swallowed in it for a moment. When we came to, the rest
of the gang was gathered around us, checking our pulse and fussing like they
always do when someone gets hurt. But we weren't hurt – we were fine. In fact,
we both admitted to feeling pretty good – although we compared notes once we
got off on this little road trip, and let me tell you, we decided it was most
definitely not the kind of feeling one usually gets from being attacked. Unless
you're into S&M, then you might feel that kind of good from getting
attacked. Anyway…
Things calmed down for a while. We'd defeated what seemed
to be our largest challenge so far, and all the vamps and demons backed off
right afterwards. Giles managed to get my father to give up his fight to take
custody of Dawn, and had moved into our house, bringing his books and furniture
and a little taste of bedlam along, until he finally got everything arranged.
We fell into a familiar pattern of patrolling and training. Spike did go a
little psycho on us (check the Watcher's Diary here, too – I so don't want to
go into it), but we were triumphant in the end, as we usually are. We don't
always win, but we're still walkin' and talkin', so I'd say we do okay.
Then those freaky demons started attacking me. Xand and I
were out patrolling the usual dead spots, when this ugly orange thing that
could best be described as a tall shark with legs, and snakes in place of hair,
and green glowing eyes, jumped out at us. And trust me, I made him sound good
there. "You bear the Finality, and you cannot live," it proclaimed in a voice
that would have made fingernails on a chalkboard sound refreshing. A real
charmer, that one. Its announcement of nonsense made, it dove at me, claws
outstretched and snakes snapping. This was not going to be a simple stake and
run kill, I suspected.
Was I ever right. Xander and I both got in some serious
blows, but we had little effect on it. He grabbed a big fallen branch and began
beating on the thing's back, while I was just doing all I could to keep the
monster off my own front. It was strong, but not very fast, so that helped.
After what seemed like way too long, Xander clobbered it one time, its green eyes
rolled back and the thing groaned. Master of the obvious, Xander yelled, "I
think I just found a weak spot, Buff."
"Hit it again, make sure," I called back. He did, and the
creature grunted and looked hopelessly pained. "I think you may have found the
demon equivalent of the family jewels there, Xand," I called back
encouragingly. Why do men automatically wince when that's mentioned?
I pulled the knife from my waistband and held it up. "You
up to this, or should I do it? He shrugged and held up his hand. I tossed the
knife in the air in his direction, and he snagged it easily as it arced by.
There was a time, a few years ago, I'd have never thrown a knife in Xander's
direction unless I really wanted to get rid of him, like permanently, but he's
become more confident and capable in the past year or so, and I didn't even
think twice.
"Hate to do this to you, guy, but maybe you could get
evolution to arrange for your species to develop a less painful vulnerability
next time around," I heard him mutter before sinking my knife into the thing's
back. It screeched, and dogs for miles began to howl. As it sank to its knees,
I could see the look of sympathy on my friend's face. Then the monster was
little more than a pile of iridescent goo on the ground. Xander's hand slid
down to his own groin, in sort of a protective, "there but for the grace of God
go I" gesture, and I walked over, plucking the knife from his other hand. As I
bent down to wipe the blade off on the grass, I said, "Well, time to go to the
Magic Shop and play 'Identify the Demon' with Giles."
"I'll take 'Singing Soprano In Hell' for a hundred, Alex,"
he cracked as we headed off.
~**~
"That's it," Xander hollered when he saw the picture.
"Impossible," Giles insisted.
I wandered over to glance at the sketch. "Oh, that's our
Mr. Congeniality, alright, Giles. Not a face one quickly forgets."
"This is not a fighting demon," my Watcher said with
determination. "It's a Recidivus demon – they deal with prophecy and omens.
Other demons go to them for information, but they've never been known to
attack."
"Maybe they're branching out," Xander suggested. "Trying
something new in the new millennium."
"So you're saying we were attacked by the Watcher of the
demon world?" I asked skeptically.
"More like the Council, Buff. I've seen this guy get his
hands dirty before." Xander waved his hand towards the older man.
Giles sent a weak smile of thanks toward Xander, before
frowning again. "What were his exact words to you again?"
"You bear the Finality, and cannot live," I recited in
monotone. "What the heck's a Finality, anyway? Is it a curse, or a scar? Do I
have something on my back?" Xander made great show of checking out my rear, and
I turned and gave him a threatening look. He answered with one of those adorable
puppy-eyed innocent grins of his. Then he got serious.
"Maybe whatever this Finality thing is, he's seen it in
the prophecies and it scared him enough to come after you in person," Xander
guessed.
I shrugged. "You gonna see if you can find it in the
books, Giles? I really wanna go home and get a shower. Whatever it was that put
the stick up that demon's butt, he's gone now, so I can relax, right?"
He was distracted, absorbed back into his reading.
Finally, he looked up, my words having soaked their way through the text into
his brain. "Oh, uhm, yes. Of course. Perhaps you should keep Xander with you,
however. In case our demon told some of his friends." His head dipped back
down, and I knew he wasn't even going to hear us say goodbye. We did anyway.
When we got to our house, Xander called Anya and told her
he was staying on our couch. I couldn't hear her words, but I could hear the
whine across the room. I wondered sometimes how he put up with her possessive
nature, then I remembered how hard she'd been trying lately. Maybe if I'd been
a little more like that with Riley… No, don't go there, Buff. Let it go.
It was a good thing Xander stayed, because we had a visit
from another one of those Recidivus critters not long after I got out of the
shower. Xand had changed into a pair of sweats and a tee shirt he always kept
at my place, and I was in my own jammies, when this thing came bursting through
the front door, screaming about the Finality and going for my jugular. Since
we'd dealt with the other one, we knew just what to do, but we were both a bit
winded before we finally made goo of this guy.
We fell in exhaustion onto the couch. "You know, Buff, I
get the feeling we aren't going to get a lot of sleep tonight." Xander looked
up, seeing a frightened teenager on the stairs. "Come on down, Dawn. I think we
all should stay at my place. After I board up that door, that is."
I looked at him in question, and he knew just what I was
thinking. "They apparently know where you live. I doubt they'd find my apartment.
And since I wasn't coming home, Anya will be at her own place. Bring your
sleeping bag, Dawn. Buff, call Giles and tell him to stay at the shop tonight,
if he wasn't going to already." He got up and went looking for a hammer and
nails, while Dawn and I threw some things into a bag, and we left soon after.
It just felt safer there, and he insisted I sleep in his
bed, Dawn on the floor beside me. It was odd, smelling like it did of Anya's
perfume and Xander's aftershave instead of my own familiar scent, but I was
worn out, and didn't spend long thinking about it before I drifted away.
There were random attacks all the rest of that week –
Xander had taken to spending all his off time with me, which went over like a
lead balloon with Anya. But he insisted, rightly so, that it took two to kill
these Recidivus things, and we two had it down to a science at this point. Only
after the first few, it started to be a variety of demons – apparently, the
prophecy monsters had called in the troops. I was still staying over at
Xander's – Giles and Dawn were back in the house, but although the demons
seemed to know I wasn't there, they were having trouble figuring out exactly
where I was. I'm sure the ban Willow and Tara put up helped, too.
One night, a little ways into this new routine, Xander
came home and sat me down. "Look – these demons aren't letting up. We need to
do something – get you out of here. I've spent some time talking to Giles, and
we've got a plan. I'm warning you, though, it's a little drastic."
A little drastic? I have to remember, this was Xander
Harris, master of understatement, talking here. Even though he'd worked it out
with Giles, I still couldn't believe what they'd come up with. I couldn't
believe my staid and cautious Watcher would even agree to such an idea. It
scared me, when I stopped and thought about it, because it meant that Giles
thought things were pretty bad.
Giles had gotten in touch with Angel, and they'd arranged
for Faith to be released and come to Sunnydale to take over my Slayer duties.
They just told her she'd be helping me out, but it was all going to be her
baby. After all, I was going to be dead.
Yup, dead. Since they'd figured out that these demons
weren't very good trackers, Xander and I were going to stage our own deaths –
an auto accident, his truck, big bang and lots of fire. No identifiable bodies.
Oh – it only gets better from there. Only Giles and Angel would know we weren't
really in that truck. So Willow, Anya, my sister – they all still think we're
dead.
Giles had gone to some underground connections he knew
from running the magic shop (not the most mainstream of businesses – he meets
all kinds) and arranged us new identities. We were going to be Alan Leonard and
Emily Anne Harper. He got to keep his real initials, and I got to keep my real
middle name. Yeah, we're posing as a married couple. Xander explained that we'd
need to stay close together, both for safety and for financial reasons, and it
would be simpler if we were married. And although he had a funny kind of sad
but satisfied grin on his face, he promised he'd sleep on the couch every
night, or the floor, or whatever, and I did believe him. I knew how much he
loved Anya, and that this was a bigger sacrifice for him than it was for me.
I had to dye my hair back to its original color – kind of
a milk chocolate brown. I hadn't worn it that shade since I was thirteen,
though. We discussed colored contacts, but it seemed like too much trouble.
Xander started growing a beard – now that I think about it, he still is. He's
never actually grown one; he just always looks like he's about two or three
days since his last shave. I wonder how he does that? In the five months we've
been on the run, I've never actually seen him clean-shaven. He's cut his hair
all off again, too – it looks a lot like it did our senior year in high school
– short on the sides, with it a bit longer on top. Most of the time, I cut it
for him.
He's lost weight, as well. I don't think that was
intentional, but we don't eat as regularly as we once did, and when we have
food, he makes sure I get the most, and get it first. And he's still working
construction, so he's burning a lot off, and what's left all seems to be going
to the muscles across his chest. He looks good – I'd be a fool not to notice.
We left all of our clothes behind, and went to the
Salvation Army for our wardrobe. Giles bought an old pickup truck for cash –
clear, untraceable title in our new names – and the night we "died," we left
Sunnydale, not knowing if we'd ever be able to return.
~**~
If this looks sloppy, it's because I'm writing in the
truck. We're running again, which is okay. I didn't much care for northern
Texas anyway.
The first place we stayed, after we left California, was
in Nevada. We drove forever, it seemed, and found a little place with a cheap
motel that didn't look too flea-bitten. We still had money from Giles at that
point – lots of it, we thought. We were being careful, we weren't staying at
the Ritz or anything, it'd last. If I'd know then how many times we'd sleep in
the back of that damn truck with no more than a tarp over our heads, I'd've
made him stop at the even cheaper motel we passed up because he said it
reminded him of where Faith used to stay.
We checked in as Alan and Emily, and set up the coffee
maker we'd bought at Salvation Army when we got our clothes. Our disguise look
was 'white trash,' and this place was full of tenants for whom it was no
disguise. They rented by the week, and we decided to go for a whole week, see
if we could find work, stay a while. We only managed two weeks – I found a
waitress job, but Xander couldn't find a construction crew that was hiring.
Apparently it was the off-season. So we moved on.
We flipped a coin – heads we went north, tails, south. It
came up tails, and the next place was a little suburb of Phoenix. We found
another rent-by-the-week place, a bit nicer than the last, and we both even
found work. I wouldn't have minded staying there a bit longer, but it wasn't
much more than a month before we came across a vampire doing what vampires do,
and we did what Slayers and Slayerettes do, and staked the sucker. So we had to
hit the trail again.
See, Giles had been adamant about that one thing – he knew
he couldn't stop us from defending people – it was in our blood. So he made us
promise that if we killed any Things That Go Bump In The Night, that we'd get
out. 'Cos they tend to come in packs, and if we killed one, there were sure to
be more. And if there were more, we'd want to kill them. And if we killed a bunch,
word would get around the demon grapevine that a new Slayer had set up shop in,
say, Phoenix. And maybe one of them would be smart enough to realize that it
might be the *old* Slayer, the one they wanted dead. The one they thought *was*
dead. And we'd have done all this work of disappearing for nothing, because
they'd come find us again. Maybe someday I'll get back to Phoenix. I liked it
there.
I didn't care for New Mexico – too dusty. We spent a
couple of days in Oklahoma, too. Now we're heading for Missouri, to try and
settle for a while again.
~**~
At least we were in Texas long enough to be able to save
up some money. We've found another place to stay, this one a week-to-week
furnished apartment, with a real kitchen and everything. Okay, more a
kitchenette – it still beats cooking on a hot plate. Although we still can't
afford much more than soup and macaroni and cheese, at least I can warm it all
up in real pans. I was thrilled to set up our loyal little coffeemaker on the
counter.
We stayed last night in a little town called Jennings,
Oklahoma. If you've never heard of it before, join the club. We slept in the
truck because we'd already decided we were heading for Missouri, and we were
funny that way. We always decided on a state before we left, and did what we
had to do to get there. So that was just a stopover. Now we're here, in our new
temporary home - Rolla, Missouri. It's not too bad a place.
We've stayed in some pretty small towns. We've stayed in
some big places, too, but rarely for long. Xander figured out early on that
white trash looks less obvious in rural areas, where everyone lived pretty much
hand to mouth, particularly if there were still working farms. Rolla is enough
of a town to have a Wal-Mart, and more than two gas stations. It's not too far
from Jefferson City, the state capital. But the people here are good,
salt-of-the-earth kinda folks, who know poverty as a family friend, and don't
question it when it visits with others. It wouldn't be hard to hide in plain
sight here.
We've also discovered that vampires and demons tend to shy
away from the smaller places. I guess the food supply is too limited or
something. The further we are from a metropolitan area, the fewer dead, undead
or should-be-dead things we see. And since we were pretty tired of being on the
road so much, that was a decided plus in our book. Tomorrow we look for jobs.
~**~
It's been a couple of days since I last wrote. Xander
found construction work, although the crew has to travel every day to near
Jefferson City. But because it's so far, it pays a lot better, too, so he's
dealing. I think it's a state highway crew, actually, so he gets benefits and
all. Insurance. That's good, because we're gonna need it, and we've never had
it before.
I wasn't quite so lucky, although there's one gal that
owns a hardware store that took pity on me, and told me of a couple places she
thought needed waitresses. She even said that if they couldn't use me, to come
back and see her again, and she'd see what she could do.
See, I don't have much of what you'd call experience. I
waited tables the last time I ran away from Sunnydale, and I knew I was capable
of that, but that was about all. There weren't a lot of places that could use a
Slayer. Particularly one that was six months pregnant.
Oops, I guess I forgot to mention the baby before this,
didn't I?
