Buffy Who?

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon

Spoilers: Post "Chosen"

A/N: While this isn't a crossover with "Samantha Who?", the idea was plucked from there.

--

"I don't see why we aren't telling her the truth. I mean, yea, this is pretty funny, but—you know what, let's not tell her, it's too funny."

Glaring at the Faith, Dawn shook her head. "If this was a little spell gone wrong that could be fixed, I might agree, but this is serious. What are we going to do about Buffy?"

"There's only two ways this can go, right?" Xander spoke up. "Tell her or not. Pros and cons?"

"I think we're aware of the biggest con, Xander," Giles jumped in, looking at everyone. "While we have numerous slayers, they are all without a leader."

"I can step in," Kennedy smirked, which turned to a glare at Faith's loud laugh.

"While I have no doubt that you are an excellent leader, Kennedy, I do not think you realize just how great a responsibility Buffy has in her position," Giles took command once again. And he wasn't lying. Kennedy was great at what she did, commanding her own squad of slayers, but Buffy did so much more than she was ready for. She may never be ready for it.

"She what, teaches a few classes, reads reports and signs off on things and calls it a day?" Kennedy challenged. "Seems like a vacation from what I'm used to."

If that were case, Kennedy would be correct. South America had an unusually large demonic population and Kennedy was heading the operation up. Because of the dangers on the continent, the only slayers that went usually volunteered instead of being chosen to go. Slayers that were chosen either felt they weren't ready or they just flat out refused to go.

"It's more than that," Dawn snapped. "Much more."

"All the slayers here go through training with her," Andrew continued.

"The baby slayers, right?" Kennedy asked, still not seeing the heavy task Buffy had to deal with. They were slayers that were in between the ages of 12 and 16. Some members of the board pushed for 18, but with countries having different ideas of what constituted an adult, people begrudgingly settled with 16.

"Yes, all twenty-five of them," Andrew calmly answered. Since the fall of Sunnydale, he finally grew a pair, as Faith had so nicely put it. He still had his moments, but that was usually with the Scoobies. He had seniority over Kennedy, even if it was only a month or so. "She worked out a routine where she takes them all through a patrol on their specified day in a group of five."

"And that's not counting her other group," Dawn spoke. "Even if you managed to work with the baby slayers, which I doubt, you couldn't work with her other one."

"Wanna explain why?" Kennedy kept her voice down, thanks in part to Willow, who remained eerily quiet, who placed a hand on her arm.

"The kids won't listen to you. They love Buffy and they know you don't really like to around her, so nothing you'd do would make them follow you. And her other group is--"

"An elite squad of slayers," Andrew finished, barely keeping the awe out of his voice.

"He's exaggerating," Giles sighed, annoyance becoming clear. "While all the slayers have met Buffy and trained with her at some point in the past few years, these are slayers that Buffy chose to stick with her and take the missions that no other slayer can do."

At Faith's cough Giles reworded, trying to work in some forced guilt where he could, "Though there are a few who can, if only they would lead a team, especially since some teams are too large."

"I'm good by myself," Faith shook her head. "Don't need any slayers following me around."

"We all agree," Xander smirked.

"Bite me, Harris."

"Children, can we please get back on topic," Giles spoke, followed by a very recognizable clucking noise.

"It's not just the two teams of slayers, Kennedy, it's the fact one of team is a group of teenage, hormonal girls who have to balance being slayers and going to school. How'd you handle yourself when you their age, and you weren't even a slayer then. Do you think you can handle 25 more cases like that? And you can't be all drill sergeant with them, either."

"Alright, I get it, it's a tough job," she finally conceded. "So what do we do?"

"This is going to sound incredibly out there," Willow finally spoke, "But what if we don't tell her anything."

Squirming as all the eyes turned to her, she continued, "I mean, Buffy loves working with her charges, but we all know she still wants that vacation she always dreamed of since becoming the slayer. This way she can have it, even if she's not herself."

--

'They can't seriously expect me to remember all these names, can they?'

The trip from the hospital hadn't been eye opening, or memory opening, in this case. It was just England, a place she wasn't even born in. But it was nice hearing that she had become wealthy enough to live here. And that had been an interesting story to tell. Giles, which was kind of a weird name, had been like a father to her, which she immediately felt comfortable with. He just seemed familiar and she latched onto him. He had worked for a company where all the members were killed and he took her, and he decided to spread the wealth to her and her friends.

She still wasn't sure what Giles did, but one of them involved self-defense because that was her job.

She wasn't feeling the whole self-defense thing, but they had proof for her in her room. Several trophies and plaques with her name on them. Her belts were neatly arranged for anyone to see.

"Something wrong, Buffy?"

Coming out of her thoughts, Dawn turned toward her sister, "No, just seeing if I can remember anything else. I mean, all those belts and I feel like I can't even throw a punch and yet--"

"What?"

"Nothing, I just hope I remember."

"It'll come to you, Buffy."

Smiling at her sister's assurances, she turned back toward the television, mentally berating herself for her slip up. Since getting back from the hospital one week ago, she caught herself doing strange things. She didn't really notice it until after meeting the rest of her friends, Faith, Xander, and Andrew.

Andrew was a little weird.

And fidgety.

But the things she noticed worried her.

One, how did she hear the baby crying from across the street from her room, which is situated at the back of the house?

Two, how did she know Dawn was walking up behind her without her turning around?

That one had an answer, she smelled her. But that led to more questions?

Three, how did she smell her sister, who wasn't wearing a fragrance?

And four, how often do termites attack doors, and only when she needs to open one because so far she's ripped more doors off hinges than she thought possible.

Buffy – four, doors – zero.

"Oh! I broke another one!"

Attention back on the tv, Buffy's face scrunched in confusion. Why was Andrew on the screen? And why was this woman breaking things, like how she did? And why were they dressed like that and speaking like that?

The woman had the dreams.

She had the dreams!

"Dawn is all this real?" Her question went unanswered. When she looked at her sister, she thought she saw tears forming in the face looking back at her. "What's going on? That woman, she said something about strength. And I don't think this house has termites that only go for the doors."

Searching her sister's face, Buffy slowly moved herself away, further down the couch. The couch wasn't large, but the point was obvious; Buffy wasn't sure if she could trust her sister.

"You know, don't you?" Buffy asked. "You've got 'know' face."

Laughing, Dawn explained off Buffy's look. "You used to say stuff like that, except you'd say 'but' instead."

"Why would I saw butt?" Buffy asked, a look of shock on her face. "Do I normally tell people their faces look like butts? Oh, you meant 'but'. Oh! Hey, stop changing the subject!"

Dawn had hoped that would work as Buffy had done it enough times in her lifetime, but apparently you can't pull one over the originator. Dawn was stuck; everyone had agreed that Buffy would get her much needed vacation, but she was already feeling the slayerness.

"We, Giles and everyone you met, had that commercial made because the company we all work for finds and employees the people who find themselves with extra strength and stuff like that. You're one of those people," Dawn explained.

She was hoping to keep it as simple as possible.

"Do you know what caused it?"

After a pause, "No. We've got people on it, though."

"People? Like who?"

"Watcher's," Dawn accidentally let slip. Seeing Buffy stare at her, she knew what happened. Saying certain words or doing certain actions provoked memories and by Buffy's face and stance, Dawn knew she was remembering.

Drifting off again, Buffy saw flashes of memories she had never seen before. This wasn't remembering the odd friend she had or more about Dawn, this was something different. But it couldn't be possible. Why would memories of demons seem so real? Why did she have these memories to begin with?

'So let's remember everyone, first rule of slaying?'

'Don't die!'

'Second rule?'

'Quip like there's no tomorrow, cause their might not be one!'

'Exactly, let's go through some drills.'

"I'm—I'm a vampire slayer," Buffy frowned.

"Yea."

"Well that sucks."

--

Alright, yes, I'm having Buffy remember certain aspects of being a slayer. Don't expect her to jump back in the game or anything like that…

And yes, she has a lot of responsibilities in this, I know.