Note: This story relies on a premise that requires a few minor changes from the original series - this premise is listed in the A/N at the bottom of this page.

Disclaimer: I lay no claim to any trademarked property mentioned herein. However, I do think this is a cool idea.

The One Who Watches

Prologue: Precipitating Events

Tony Harris couldn't believe his luck. After a few weeks of job hunting, he'd finally found something that looked stable - it was in the warehouse district, and, shockingly enough, it was in the warehousing business. But it was a management job, and it paid well - well enough that he didn't have to worry about paying for food and electricity. In fact, he managed to get his hands on a PlayStation with some of the money he had spare after savings, and with the kiddo's birthday coming up soon, he just knew things were looking up.

And then this night happened. He didn't know what the hell was up with those guys' faces, but job or no job, he was getting the hell out of the warehouse. They could take whatever gets stolen out of his paycheck, he didn't care; he couldn't afford to get beaten half to death by some whackaloons high on PCP or whatever had them so pumped up.

Tony was utilizing every bit of stealth he'd forgotten he had ever since he stopped needing to worry about his mother's drunken rages. He swore he'd never touch the hard stuff himself, but he'd be damned if he couldn't go for a drink once he got the hell out of here.

And, as though Murphy himself was listening, that was when Tony ran into someone. Tony noticed he didn't budge. How? Tony slammed into him at running speed and, stealthy or not, that was a decent speed, and he was a sizable man. His human obstacle didn't seem particularly tall or well-built, but, as a longtime resident of Sunnydale, Tony immediately recognized him. "Mr. Mayor?"

"Run along home, son," Richard Wilkins III said, his tone brooking no argument, "And best you keep quiet about what you've seen tonight."

Tony could do nothing but nod, and run along home, just like the mayor ordered.

Had he stuck around even a minute longer in the shadows, he might have caught Wilkins giving one of his lackeys an order.

"Follow that man, my boy. Give me a name and an address. He needs to be taken care of, but not quite yet. The last thing I need is for someone to figure out tonight had something to do with his unfortunate demise."

Diane sat in the waiting room. She hadn't been in a Police Station in the States before. She hadn't been sure what to do to begin with, but with the news she'd just received...

She couldn't feel anything anymore. Jessica; her sweet, funny, beautiful, talented Jess. Gone. Tony, too. How could she have been so stupid? It was the Hellmouth - how could she have let herself think for a nanosecond that her sister could live here and be safe?

All she'd have had to do was be honest with Jess, tell her about the family history that she never cared to find out for her own, and convince her to get as far away from Sunnydale as was humanly possible. Preferably back to England, where she'd be in the relative safety of the Council.

It was Christmas, for goodness' sake. It was supposed to be a cheerful time. They were all supposed to be around the fireplace at Tony and Jess', catching up, having fun, being a family. Being all the family they had.

Damn it! Damn it all! She was so angry. With herself, with this town, with Jessica, with the universe. She wanted to punch through a wall, but just barely contained herself as a uniformed officer entered the room.

"Ms. Dormer?" He asked, hesitantly.

"Yes?" She stood up quickly.

"Sorry, miss, but you didn't have to get up. I just got word from the social worker - she says she'll be bringing your nephew here in a few minutes."

Oh. She nodded jerkily, and sat back down. That's right. Little Alex. He's still alive. But not if he stayed in this literal hellhole of a town.

Her hands still a bit shaky, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her Motorola StarTAC. After some fiddling with the buttons she found the number of her main Council contact here in the States.

After a few dial tones, a tired voice answered, "Hello?"

"Hi, Miri. It's Di."

"Di? What happened?" Miranda Haughton, though still clearly out of sorts due to the hour, nonetheless made efforts to seem awake, if not alert.

"It's my sister, Jess." Diane started, fully aware of what not to say out loud, given where she was, "She and her husband were attacked by some nutters with Barbecue forks."

"Shit." Miri grunted, now obviously alert. "Di, whatever you're thinking, don't do anything stupid. Did you check their mouths?"

Diane nodded, then remembered she was on the phone, "Yes, when I was taken to confirm their identities. They're both staying where they are for the foreseeable future. But this isn't about that."

It was a few moments before she realized Miranda was expecting her to continue. "It's about their boy, Alexander."

"A child?" Miri gave a small gasp, "Please tell me he wasn't there when it happened."

"The officer told me they found him under some cardboard boxes where it happened. He was lying in the blood, Miri. He was almost catatonic when they found him. However much he did see, it could only have been too much."

"Christ."

It took Diane around half a minute to compose herself again. "Miri, I need your help."

"Whatever you need, honey."

"Jessica had a dual citizenship, but she never got around to getting Xander British citizenship. I need you to get in touch with Intelligence, and have them figure out some way to make him a British citizen."

"Okay," Miri replied, "Do you mind if I ask why you need that?"

"Because the next part of this needs to get very simple, as soon as possible." Diane started, "I'm taking him back with me."

"Are you sure?"

"It's the only way I have to keep him safe."

There was a sigh on the other side of the phone. "Okay, Di. I'll call some folks, and we'll get something together."

"Thanks." She noticed a kind-faced dark-skinned woman in a pant-suit walking towards the room. She was holding hands with someone that Diane couldn't see from this angle, but when they reached the waiting room and opened the door, she ran to them, wrapping her arms around the child. Her sister's child.

"Alex, you're okay." She said. "I'm so happy you're well."

"Auntie Di," The child replied. "I'm okay. I think."

"Your nephew is a strong kid, Miss Dormer," the social worker opined, "One of the strongest I've seen."

Diane barely recognized that she was being spoken to, so focused was she on Alex.

Hopefully, Miri could get that deal settled soon, so that she could take Alex somewhere safe.

Or at least safer.

For now, she held him in her arms, feeling bits of Jessica in his warmth.

Author's Notes:

Hey, everyone. Hopefully you've enjoyed this little thing. This is the first writing I've done in quite a bit of time, and the first time I've had an outline for my story of any significant measure.

As you've probably noticed, I've moved the timeline a bit further into the future, 8 years to be precise, for just about everything. This is for several reasons, not the least of which is that now we can use cell phones, making the entire affair more interesting.

While I have an outline, I don't yet have any definite ideas for the flow of the story. For example, I'm currently contemplating how exactly to show what Xander got up to in the UK.

Right now, this story is meant to be the first part of a series. So if this story has a subtitle, that probably means you can find the next "season" of it somewhere else on this site.

Until then, however, I'll be taking my sweet time making this story as solid as I can make it, so make sure you follow it, because I can't guarantee a set schedule.

Well, that's about it, friends, I'll see you when you see me.

~D.G.