Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Joss, etc, own it, yada yada yada.
Thanks to my beta-reader, Starway Man, and Deiticlast, my creative consultant for their aid in making this chapter a success.
Note: Welcome to the first, and possibly only, two-part Episode in the Iron Coin Chronicles. Even episodes that were originally two parters in the show (Graduation Day) were cast as two independent Episodes in ICC. However, this one, is going to be a distinctly two-part episode, in that it isn't a self-contained series of events and explicitly continues the same storyline as the previous episode into the next (just as the two-parters on BtVS did.)
And here you can see why I split it into two parts – longest Iron Coin Chapter yet and the story isn't done.
Note #2: Apart from one scene at the beginning, this entire chapter will be from a Buffy POV. We've spent a lot of time with Buffy in some chapters of the story, true enough, but this will be the first 'all Buffy, all the time' chapter I've given you. Xander will show up, quite a lot, but nothing from his POV.
The Iron Coin Chronicles: Season 2
By Alkeni
Episode 3: Gone Horribly Right (Part 1)
October 23rd, 1999
Faith's Apartment, Sunnydale
"You don't know how much I appreciate this, Faith." Amy told her friend, sitting on the bed with her back to the Slayer, her shirt off – though her bra was still on – as the Slayer applied some aloe vera to the burns on her back. Amy could take care of her hand easily enough, but getting to her back – very difficult. "It doesn't make all this..." She gestured at her back with her non-burned hand, "go away any faster, but at least it doesn't hurt so goddamn much. Thanks."
Faith shrugged, "it's not a problem. If I got burned all over my back, you'd do the same for me." She squirted a little more aloe into her hand and rubbed lower down Amy's back, making sure to cover the entire burn. "The doctors said three weeks, right?"
"Or more." Amy replied, not quite managing to hide the note of bitterness in her voice. "And given that they haven't even started to get any better, far as I can tell, I'm leaning more towards the 'or more' side of things." Amy rubbed at her eyes with thumb and forefinger, pinching the bridge of her of nose a minute.
Faith applied the aloe to right between Amy's shoulder blades, then closed the tube, grabbing the washcloth she'd set nearby and wiping her hands clean of the stuff. "Amy, I hate to say this to you, but you need to deal and move on. You keep being the pessimistic one here, and I'll have to take drastic measures."
Amy stood up, not putting her shirt back on just yet – she couldn't put it back on, what with the just applied aloe. She turned to look at Faith, a small smile on her face despite herself. "Drastic, hm?"
"Getting both my arms broken would be wicked painful." Faith pointed out. "And certainly make your situation better than mine." The dark-haired Slayer laughed and got off the bed, taking the aloe back into the bathroom of her apartment. "How's everything going with college?"
Amy shrugged, "The same. Managing. At least I didn't burn my writing hand, so I can at least take notes during lectures. Can't type anything worth a damn, though." She tried to flex the fingers of her burned hand – fortunately, the burn there was mostly on her palm, so she could move the fingers, even if it made her hand hurt even more than the hand already did. She grabbed her shirt with her good hand and went out into Faith's combination 'living room/kitchen', sitting down on the couch as the Slayer grabbed a beer from the fridge.
"Actually," Amy continued, "I was hoping I could ask you for another favor."
Faith pulled the top off her beer and took a sip. "Sure. What do ya need?" she asked.
"While back, you offered your couch if I had problems with my roommate. That offer still good?" Amy scooted forward on the couch a little, making sure her back didn't touch the back of the couch.
"Of course. Having problems with her?"
Amy shrugged, "Not problems, exactly. Just...well, she gets up early. Normally, not that big a deal, only..." she sighed, "I'm up half the night anyway thanks to the burns, can't sleep from the pain. On days when I have class, much as I hate to wake up so early, it's better than missing classes. But I don't have classes tomorrow, and we both know you don't wake up earlier than noon if you can avoid it. So..."
Faith smiled, "Well, yea. I stay up half the damn night patrolling and Slaying. And unlike the rest of you, I don't have class or work." She sipped at her beer again, then set it on the counter. "Couch is all yours."
Amy smiled. "Thanks." Gingerly, she checked her back, then pulled her shirt back on, slowly and carefully.
October 23rd, 1999
The Bronze, Sunnydale
Buffy was moping. More importantly, she knew she was moping. But she couldn't prevent herself from doing so, as she watched Parker dancing with another girl; no doubt sweet-talking his unsuspecting victim the same way he did her. Parker was scum – and she knew that...
But despite herself, part of Buffy couldn't help but wish she was the one dancing with him...
The Slayer shook her head, trying and failing to ignore the stab of self-doubt and jealousy that went through her as she watched them. Shaking her head again, she looked away, over to the left. Not really looking at anything, just staring off into space, trying to think of anything but Parker.
The band on the stage was playing a more lively song than the last one, though Buffy was only half-registering it. She looked around, seeing Willow and Oz over in one corner booth – sitting right next to each other, all couple-y. She couldn't see any of her other friends hanging around, though. She moved her gaze away from her buds, and realized she was looking back at Parker and that girl...
"Parker pulled his shit on you too?"
Buffy turned around at the sound of the female voice behind her. An auburn-haired woman was standing next to the table. "He's scum – I mean, more than most guys." The woman sat down. "They all want just the one thing, sure – but I swear, the way he does it..."
Buffy blinked. "Do I know you?" She didn't, but the woman's sudden arrival was a complete nonsequiter to her – apart from telling the woman to just go away, there wasn't much else to say.
"No, sorry. My name's Anya. I go to UC Sunnydale. Sophmore. I'm going to guess you're a Freshman, right?" She reached her hand over. "It's just – I saw you eyeing Parker and his latest would-be conquest. I've been where you are. He did the same thing to me last year." She frowned. "Took a while to get over it."
Buffy took Anya's hand and shook it. "Buffy. I..." She frowned a moment herself. "I suppose it's good to know that it's possible to get over." She laughed humorlessly. "How'd you manage it?"
"After I decided I was better than feeling sorry for myself over a guy?" Anya asked. "I spent the better part of a day coming up with every nasty thing I could think of and wishing them on him – herpes, impotence, hair loss. Kind of worked. You should try it."
Buffy shook her head again. "No..." The idea sounded appealing, she had to admit, but it was as much her fault as Parker's...she'd fallen for his line of bullshit, and willingly given herself to him. "I don't think I could do that. It's too vindictive." She took a sip of her soda, which had mostly sat untouched since she'd gotten it. "It I did fall for him...I fell for his lines – and...I was still dealing with Angel leaving the way he did."
"Angel?" Anya asked politely.
Oh, where to begin? Buffy couldn't tell this girl the whole story, but...it kind of felt good to have someone to talk to – someone who didn't have a host of baggage associated with Angel. Even if...
Even if Xander and Wesley had a point. Everyone else knew Angel, or knew of him. They knew the whole sordid story, but...they never really thought about it from her perspective. Not even Willow, who had – apart from that night Acathla nearly opened his mouth – been the biggest supporter of her and Angel.
"My ex." Buffy said after a half-minute. "To say that it was...complicated between us would be a real understatement. I mean – he'd told me that he'd be leaving after High School graduation, and...I didn't take it well when he told me and then...other things happened...and then...not even two hours after we graduated, he just...vanished. No goodbye, no...anything." She sighed – and wondering what else she could share about Angel, what she might need to 'edit' to make it okay to tell someone not in the know.
"So, you blame him for what happened?" There was no sarcasm in Anya's voice. Actually, there was even a bit of sympathy in her tone.
"Not exactly. It's not that simple." Buffy missed Anya rolling her eyes in annoyance. "And...you wanna know the worst part? That wasn't the first time Angel...left. I mean, the first time I lost him...I was a wreck for months...but I got over him. And then...then he came back...and the whole Buffy-Angel saga started all over again! It's times like this, if I was ever going to wish for something impossible..." Buffy sighed, "I'd wish...I'd wish Angel hadn't ever come back into my life. That he'd stayed where he'd gone off to, way back when!"
Glad to finally get that particular rant off her chest, Buffy looked over at Anya – then instinctively recoiled in horror as she saw the woman, holding the small amulet around her neck in one hand – and her face. Her face. Gone was the normal, human looking face – instead there was a...a red and inhuman face, covered in angry, swollen-looking veins running up and down.
"Done!" Anya's voice was deep, distorted and obviously demonic...and they resonated in Buffy's ears with a terrible finality.
All around the Slayer, the Bronze seemed to almost...melt into blackness.
October 23rd, 1999
The Bronze, Sunnydale, "Alternate Universe"
It seemed like it was only mere seconds after Anya – or whoever or whatever the hell she was – had said 'Done!' for the world to come back into focus for Buffy.
She was in the Bronze...but it was deadly silent now. The band was gone. The people were gone. No Willow. No Oz...no...Anya.
Buffy quickly realized that she was still sitting in the same chair she'd been sitting in before...that was still the same.
But nothing else was.
The Bronze looked like a war zone. Like someone had dropped a bomb in the middle of the room, then let a tornado rampage through what was left. Broken glass, tables, chairs and other furniture was scattered across the building – almost nothing was intact. There were even a handful of scorch marks the walls.
Buffy smelled rot and mold...maybe even dried blood.
"What the hell?" Buffy instinctively reached into her jacket and took out her stake. Something was obviously wrong. She reached down for her bag, looking for her knife – but her bag wasn't there.
Buffy got out of the chair, stake in hand, moving slowly.
"Hello?" Something had happened – obviously, something to do with Anya – but what? What the hell did that...demon do? Was she a demon? Probably – the face alone...
I mean, what else could she have been? Wasn't a vampire, and unless she somehow put on a mask and got out some weird voice distorter in all of thirty seconds, she wasn't human.
"Hello?" She called out again, less hesitantly. She needed information. She needed to find out what the hell had happened. Think, think...
She said 'done', after I said...
After I wished Angel hadn't come back into my life...
But how does that explain what happened to the Bronze? Damn it, I need to talk to Giles about this!
Moving her chair – one of the few intact ones – out of the way, Buffy started for the door.
"Buffy?"
Buffy turned at the sound of a familiar, female voice coming down from the upper section of the Bronze. It was Amy, looking oddly pale, and wearing a blood-red shirt and skirt. Shorter than she'd ever seen on Amy – the witch didn't usually go in for skirts in the first place.
"Amy?" Buffy turned, unable to hide the relief in her voice at seeing a familiar – and friendly – face. "Where's-"
But before she could finish asking 'where's Faith?', Amy spoke again. "What the hell are you doing here, Slayer?"
Buffy took a step back at the sheer force of the scorn and hatred in the words – and of course, the use of the term 'Slayer'. Amy had never called her that...not in place of her name. Only vampires-
Amy jumped down from the upper section, landing on the floor with easy, almost catlike grace. "What? Did you think that just because I chose not to side with either of the big dogs I'm going to sign up with you? I know things must be getting desperate for you guys, but damn!" Amy started walking towards her. "Or have you decided to just give up and get me to kill you, put you out of everyone's misery? Okay, I can oblige." Amy snarled angrily, her forehead crumpling as a vampiric face revealed itself.
"Amy? What the- when did-?" Not getting a chance to finish, Buffy jumped aside as Amy lunged at her, jumping onto one of the few intact tables.
Amy was a vampire? What the hell, when did that happen...
No time. Ignoring her reeling mind, Buffy tightened her grip on her stake and jumped off the table, knocking Amy to the floor. Swallowing hard, she nonetheless stabbed down with the stake trying to pierce Amy's heart. She didn't manage to succeed, Amy's hand moving up to catch her wrist, holding the stake just inches from her chest.
"Did you really think it was going to be that easy?" Amy laughed, her face returning to its human mask.
As Buffy struggled to drive her stake down, Amy put her other hand on Buffy's chest and whispered a word in what Buffy vaguely recognized as Latin. She didn't have time to think on it, though, because she went flying upwards, feeling like she'd just been hit with the full force of a train. She crashed into the ceiling, then started to fall, pain reverberating through her chest and back. Heart pounding, she grabbed at the railing of the upper section as she fell, catching onto it. Gritting her teeth, Buffy vaulted herself onto the upper section of the trashed club, one hand going to her chest.
Nothing felt broken up front, and unless she was completely misremembering what she'd learned about the human skeleton in High School Biology, nothing was broken in her back either. Didn't stop the pain.
"Oh, poor little Slayer. Can't stop Sunnydale from going to hell in a handbasket. Can't save her Watcher, can't saver her sister Slayer, can't even kill one little vampire. Pathetic." Amy thrust out with her hand again, and Buffy felt a wave of invisible force crash into her. She managed to avoid flying back, holding onto the railing tight enough to crush it beneath her fist, but at least she managed to stay in place.
Can't stop – can't save? Did something happen to Giles? Is she talking about Faith...or Kendra, or-
Again, not the time to think about it. Amy was clearly even better with the magicks as a vampire than a human. She couldn't- she needed to get out of here. Find Giles, Faith, Willow, everyone else. Figure out what the hell happened. Get help. Maybe Willow could...block her magic or something?
"What is it with you vamps and the sound of your own voices?" Buffy fell back on familiar quips, lacking anything else to hold onto at the moment. Even as she spoke, she was trying to figure out how best to get to the door – and of course, Vamp-Amy was between her and it. "I mean, do your voices cease working if you don't use them nonstop?"
"I could ask you the same thing, Buffy. You and your famous 'quips." Amy shot back. The undead witch thrust out her arm again – but before she could finish the spell, Buffy was on the move, dashing across the upper section. Amy watched the spell crash into the railing, this time hard enough to shake the entire thing, pull loose one of the bars holding it in place. "Fuck!"
Even as Amy swore and tried to aim the spell at her again, Buffy had jumped down from the upper section. She grabbed a piece of table and tossed it at the vamp-witch. Amy cast the spell before it could connect with her, blowing it to splinters and pieces with the force of the blast, but it was all the distraction Buffy needed. She was past Vamp-Amy and out the door, on the street.
I have to get away from here – get away from here, call Giles, figure out what the hell is going on!
October 23rd, 1999
Streets of Sunnydale, Alternate Universe
It was after sunset, so Vamp-Amy would chase after her; thus Buffy kept running for nearly fifteen minutes. Fortunately, it wasn't a fifteen minute run that saw her get lost. By this point, with all her patrols, she knew Sunnydale pretty well. On the downside, she was pretty far from everyone's place – Giles, Faith, Xander and Cordelia, even Wesley. Far from campus too. Even her own house.
Buffy looked around, not even a little winded. Just down the block, she found what she was looking for – a payphone.
Buffy dug through her pockets, hoping to find some change – which she managed to find. Enough for one call. She'd have to make it count. She put the money into the machine and dialed Giles.
It rang. Eight times in total.
Nothing.
No.
Giles couldn't be unreachable. Not now.
She hung up, but the damn payphone refused to refund her money. So Buffy dialed collect, having no other choice. Nothing. Either he'd denied the call...damn unlikely...or Giles wasn't there to pick up. Where would be be?
Buffy took a deep breath, feeling her heart race in panic. Something had happened. Well, yeah, obviously...
She'd wished for Angel to never come back from Hell...and that demon had said 'done'. What exactly was she? Who was she? Was 'Anya' some kind of – demon genie? If so...
Oh, God...
This was like...something out of the Twilight Zone, or something...nothing made sense. Giles was never out of his apartment this late, unless he was working – no, wait, this wasn't High School anymore, his undercover role as the librarian at Sunnydale High was now history. So he should be home...
No, never mind. There were other things to consider. Like Amy – Amy was a vampire hiding out in the Bronze, which was completely trashed.
Which was completely insane, because even if she'd been turned as recently as last night, there simply hadn't been enough time for her to become so proficient in the magicks...
Taking a quick breath, Buffy dialed collect again, this time trying to contact Faith. The other Slayer needed to know about Amy – and Buffy needed Faith's help.
No answer – again. Damn it. Faith wouldn't refuse the call. She'd make Buffy cover the cost later on, either by giving her a night off or just cash, but she'd take her call.
"What the hell is going on?" Buffy murmured under her breath. Who else could she try – Willow? Xander?
No. It would have to be Wesley. She needed a Watcher, someone who knew about demons professionally to help her figure out what the hell had happened. She'd contact everyone else afterwards. Luckily she knew Wesley's phone number, even though she'd never had an occasion to use it yet.
Buffy called collect again, this time for Wesley. Once she'd identified herself to the machine, she heard the other end of the line ring four times. Come on. Come on... First time she was ever wanting to talk with Wesley, and he wasn't available –
"Hello Miss Summers." Wesley's familiar, clipped, accented voice was suddenly on the other end of the line.
"Oh thank God." She murmured gratefully. "Wesley, something's wrong – really wrong – I was in the Bronze and then-"
"What on earth were you doing in the Bronze, Miss Summers?" Wesley interrupted, sounding confused. "I thought you told me you were going to leave off Miss Madison for the time being, given everything else we have to deal with."
"You knew?!" Buffy couldn't help her outburst. "But she was fine just yesterday! What the hell-"
Wait. I made a wish. 'Anya' said done. She must've granted it...
If I'm right, Demon Girl changed the past...that has to be it! Somehow, she –
"Wes, this is going to sound like a very odd question, but are there demons that grant wishes? I don't mean, you say you want something and they get it for you. I mean, full on granting wishes, like the genie in Aladdin or something like that?" Buffy took a deep breath, trying very hard not to think about what it might mean if her fear was correct.
Wesley made an 'um' sound for a moment, thrown by the nonsequiter. Then he said, "Yes, actually, there are I believe a half-dozen different species who grant wishes by various forms of magic – only for mortals, though, never themselves or other demons. Mostly as a means to corrupt mortals into doing evil things or the like...but what does this have to do with anything? Unless you're proposing we use one of those kinds of – but no, surely not. I'll grant you the situation is rather desperate, but-"
"No, no, Wes, listen!" Buffy interrupted, wondering what the hell 'the situation' was. "I think I just ran into-" Buffy heard something nearby. Then...
Crap. Vampire. Amy?
"I'll be at your place as soon as I can. Wait for me there. Gotta go!" She didn't even bother to hang the phone up, simply dropping it, letting it hang by the cord as she turned.
"Slayer." It was a male voice – she didn't recognize it. Three vampires stepped into view from an alley. All of them were wearing –
El Eliminati! What the-? They were supposed to be dead. All of them!
And Amy isn't supposed to be a vampire nesting inside the Bronze. 'Supposed to be' got left behind quite a while ago, I think.
"Lord Balthazar will be most pleased when we bring him your head." One of them said. And then almost as one, they all raised their swords; the usual one-long, one-short gig they all seemed to have.
Buffy's eyes went from the vampire's to their weapons. Either I need a sword of my own, or I need to run away again. "Do you really want to cut off my head – I mean it's a really messy thing, to cut someone's head off, and then you'll get my blood all over those outfits of yours." She managed a small laugh, "And believe me, blood is a complete nightmare to get out of good clothes."
"Fight with honor, or die without it, Slayer." One of them said roughly.
"Are those my only choices?" Buffy asked, backing away again, her stake in hand. If she could take one out quickly and get one of his swords – but trying to fight all three when they had reach on her like that? Not the best of plans.
"Die!" One of the vampires lunged at her with his blades, and Buffy evaded the attack easily – it was sloppy, telegraphing his intent from a mile away. He didn't fight like the El Eliminati she'd encountered over six months ago, not at all. He was an amateur.
"Nope, sorry. Can't. I've got plans for later." She stepped back, "How about we reschedule me dying to sometime after Tuesday? Next Tuesday, I mean? I'll be free then." Not waiting for a reply, Buffy immediately ran down an alley, running for the chain link fence at the far end. It easy for her to jump, grab onto the top and leverage herself over onto the other side, landing with ease.
Buffy could hear the vampires chasing after her, and so she kept running. She needed answers. She also needed help. Where to go-?
Getting to Giles' place isn't going to be any harder than anywhere else I could get help.
Her Watcher may not have picked up the phone when she called, but there could be good reasons for that – maybe he was sleeping heavily. Maybe he hadn't been able to get to the phone in time. Or maybe he'd forgotten to pay the phone bill. She could actually see that happening. It was very Giles.
Maybe he can't afford to pay it. I mean, he's unemployed right now, apart from his job as my Watcher. Huh. How is Giles paying his bills, anyway? Pretty sure neither he nor Wes get much of a paycheck from the Council...
Irrelevant. Buffy was over the fence, but she could hear the Eliminati vampires behind her, climbing over it. She needed to lose them. She couldn't run from them forever – she needed to lose them, or she needed an advantage to let her take on all three, swords and all.
Buffy turned down an another alley, heading for yet another street. She emerged out onto it – and nearly ran right into another pack of vampires. Six this time, fortunately without swords.
Under normal circumstances, she'd rather not go up against six against one, but assuming these were your garden variety fledglings and regular patrol fodder, she knew she could probably handle them, as long as she played it smart.
Use their numbers against them. As with the old aphorism about cooks and the soup, too many combatants can get in each others' way.
Giles' advice floated across her mind quickly, as all her thoughts did standing at the entrance of an alley with six vampires in front of her and three more coming towards and down the alley, armed with swords.
"Slayer!" One of them, an obvious ex-jock, who was all but neckless, said, as if vampires had no other word in their vocabulary.
"Yea. That's me." Buffy raised her stake, trying to figure out how to get out of this. Six on one, she could do. Nine on one, when three had swords? She'd really rather not.
Buffy pressed her feet firm against the ground, ready to move as soon as there was an opening. The Eliminati vamps turned down the alley. She watched out of the corner of her eye as they came towards her – and the six vampires noticed them as well – and were noticed by the Eliminati vamps.
The Renn Faire wannabes drew their swords, pulling up short from the entrance of the valley.
"The Slayer is ours!" The same Eliminatus that had spoken before said. "Stand aside, or die."
"No way. I'm the one getting this bitch's blood!" Neckless Jock replied. "And taking your swords and your dust to the boss."
Buffy looked from the Eliminati to the 'normal' vamps. She could use this.
No sooner had that thought come to mind when the two groups of vampires crashed into each other. Well, most of them. One of the ordinary vamps – not Neckless Jock – decided that going against El Eliminati wasn't what he wanted to do. He lunged for her, trying to grab her arm. Buffy quickly ducked under his attack as the other vampires fought each other.
Kicking at her attacker, Buffy's shoe connected with his knee, sending the vamp screaming down to the ground. Quickly, Buffy darted in and drove her stake into the vampire's heart, leaving a pile of dust behind her as she ran from the fighting vampires.
Unfortunately, she was noticed running off.
"She's getting away!"
All three Eliminati and the three remaining normal vampires apparently decided as one that in the face of the Slayer's escape, their previous fight wasn't quite as important. Buffy spared a glance over her shoulder then turned back ahead. She needed to get the six of them off of her tail. But how?
Apart from running faster, nothing came to mind. She could keep this pace up for a while, but not forever. And she couldn't be running all over Sunnydale trying to lose them. A third group of vampires could be around any corner, or just ahead on any street. Or more.
Two groups. Fighting each other.
They'd come to blows just by being near each other, almost ignoring her.
Gritting her teeth and putting on an extra burst of speed, Buffy felt her legs and lungs burning just a touch, but she forced herself to keep going. Seeing another street up ahead, Buffy turned sharply, nearly tripping thanks to her momentum.
Not waiting for the vampires to catch up, Buffy looked to the nearby buildings quickly – picking one, Buffy ran for the sides, grabbing onto the brick outside and clambering up the fire escape, ignoring the scraping on her hands as she climbed up so quickly. Just as she was over the top and moving away from the edge, her pursuers came from around the corner.
"Where is she?" One of the regular vampires cried out. Buffy dropped flat on her stomach, to make an even smaller target of herself, but stayed away from the edge.
Just as she'd hoped, the vampires quickly started to bicker, the two groups blaming each other for losing sight of her. Buffy swallowed – her guess had been right. Without her right there...
Her guess was completely confirmed when she heard the vampires starting to fight again. She heard several get dusted – the fight ended remarkably quickly.
"Find another patrol, bring them here as quickly as you can. I shall seek out and find the Slayer." One of the vampires said. He sounded like one of the Eliminati, the voice somewhat familiar from earlier on.
"In Balthazar's name, it shall be done!"
Buffy heard running footsteps as one of the vampires left. Giving him a few moments to get away, Buffy crawled towards the edge of the roof and peered over onto the street. Four piles of dust and two Eliminati swords resting next to one of the piles.
Okay. One I can do.
Buffy watched for a few moments more, then stood, jumping down from the roof and landing with a graceful roll – that was really going to bruise in the morning, she was sure. But it had done what she needed doing – she was right next to the swords.
Since her battle with Angelus in front of Acathla, and even more so since El Eliminati had passed through Sunnydale, Buffy had made a point of practicing with a sword now and again. Unfortunately, she hadn't gotten that much practice in...and since she normally didn't take a sword out on patrol, she didn't get much 'live fire' practice either...
Grabbing only the longer blade, Buffy spun and stood in one fluid motion – just in time to block the vampire's blades against hers. Stepping back, Buffy blocked another swing of the longer blade and barely managed to void the shorter one – she could almost feel it pass bare centimeters from her stomach.
Buffy swung back wildly, forcing the vampire to take a step back in turn. Like the one that had stabbed at her earlier, this vampire wasn't that great – but he wasn't telegraphing as much as that one, either. She trade blows with him back and forth a few times, trying to get an advantage, barely dodging the blade she didn't block each time – but she couldn't expect to stay lucky forever, and the undead reinforcements might show up anytime...
Placing both hands on the hilt of her blade, Buffy swung it, hard. The vampire's longsword went flying from his hand, clattering on the street several feet away. But her opponent didn't just stare dumbly as he was disarmed – he'd been taking advantage of Buffy's move to slice at her exposed side with his shortsword.
Buffy contorted, trying to avoid the blade – but it was too little, too late. Hot pain lanced up her arm as the sword ran a shallow red line up it. Buffy gritted her teeth against the pain and swung against at the vampire with a control, one-handed strike. The vampire managed to step back and dodge it in time, but it gave Buffy the chance she needed, Blood streaming from the cut on her left arm, Buffy kept up her attack, forcing the vampire to step back as he dodged and blocked – after a few rounds of that, he suddenly found his back pressed up against a streetlight. Exactly what Buffy had been aiming for.
The Slayer thrust the blade into the vampire's chest, eliciting a groan of pain from him. Not giving him a moment to recover, Buffy pulled the sword out of him and swung it through his neck, neatly decapitating him. Only a moment passed before the vampire exploded into dust, his shortsword too falling to the ground with a clatter.
Dropping her own blade, Buffy turned her attention to her arm. Though shallow, the cut was long, and her sleeve was stained red with blood. Probably completely ruined, even not counting the cut in it. Damn it. And I liked this jacket, too...
She tore the sleeve off the jacket with ease, letting it fall to the ground, discarded and forgotten as she examined the wound. The fighting hadn't done much for the bleeding – her constant movement had gotten blood all over the arm, making it slick and slippery. And it was too big to just tear off some of her shirt and make a bandage... She clamped her hand tight over the injury, trying to stem the bleeding as much as she could.
Still holding onto her arm as tightly as possible, Buffy quickly walked forward, eyes open for more vampires. Everything spun for a moment as lightheadedness threatened to overtake her. No choice. Buffy let go of her arm, ignoring the blood on her hand and tore almost the entire bottom third off her shirt. It was either that or steal something from one of the clothing stores on this street.
Biting her lip almost hard enough to draw blood, Buffy wound the wide strip of fabric around her arm as tight as she could manage, spiraling it upwards. When the entire cut was covered – blood seeping into it already – she tucked the top into itself and tied it in place. It wouldn't hold forever, she was guessing; but with any luck, it would last long enough to get her to Giles' apartment.
October 23rd, 1999
Rupert Giles' Apartment, Sunnydale, Alternate Universe
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Buffy forced herself to take in a deep breath as she hit the door open palmed again, trying desperately to get Giles' attention – he had to be here. Where else would he be? Why would be move?
And if he moved, where did he move to? Or- maybe's he's out of town...maybe he's visiting the mother country...that's possible, right?
Buffy hit the door harder, taking every care not to break it.
"Giles!" She called out. He had to hear her. He had to be here...
Buffy stepped away from the door and forced herself to take a heavy, slow breath. She was just about ready to kick down the door when she heard footsteps. Slow, careful, deliberate.
Buffy ducked into the shadows, pressing herself against the exterior wall of the building as much as she could, her right hand tight around the Eliminati sword she'd kept ahold of, just in case more Eliminati were-
Buffy swallowed a little as a pair of Eliminati vampires stepped into view, each one with their swords out. They separated, searching the small courtyard.
"It was her. I know her voice." One of them said. "Find her."
"She's already slain one of us tonight." The other said. "And we lost another in a pointless skirmish. Lord Balthazar needs us intact for the true fight."
"Lord Balthazar needs the Slayer taken out of consideration." The first one replied. "She will be as a vulture, waiting to attack the victor after the battle is over." This one had hair, and the other didn't, and as she watched them move with careful, agonizingly slow precision, Buffy mentally labeled one Baldy and the other Hairy.
"I can smell her." Hairy spoke again after a moment. "She is here, close by." Buffy swallowed again and tensed, watching the vampire draw near her, his gaze not turned into her direction just yet, the vampire sniffing, trying to pinpoint her scent.
"All this work to find little old me?" Buffy cut in, driving her sword into the unsuspecting vampire's arm, pulling it out and jumping back away from him, ignoring a flash of pain up her leg at the sudden impact of her landing. The fighting and the running and the cut in her arm...
Everything spun again – as had happened several more times since she'd been cut – and Buffy bit her lip, bringing her attention back to the now. Both Baldy and Hairy were facing her, Hairy favoring his injured arm, but not by much. Less than she was favoring hers...
Buffy stepped back and to the right, trying to keep them moving, guessing.
"I suppose saying 'I am not left handed' wouldn't actually mean anything to you?" Buffy quipped almost automatically, as the duelist scene between Westley and Inigo in the Princess Bride rose unbidden to the fore of her mind.
"You're holding your blade in your right hand." Baldy pointed out, looking briefly confused. "I already knew that."
"Good lines are wasted on some people." Buffy muttered. Both of them were better than the one's she'd faced. Neither was just charging in, both eyeing her carefully, well aware of their surroundings as they moved in time with her, keeping her well in their sights between them. She wracked her brain, thoughts racing at light-speed as she tried to think of an option other than fighting – she couldn't really afford to get cut up anymore. And against two expert swordsmen – she didn't want to take that chance.
Fifteenth century dueling cult... Buffy tried to remember what Wesley and Giles had had to say about El Eliminati...they hadn't said much, and she had retained even less...especially after all this time, it had been too long... They spent too much time dueling each other...
Something about that...part of her brain, beneath the layers of fight or flight reflexes all screaming at her, grabbed at that. The duelist scene from the Princess Bride was still running through her head.
They were fair...
"You know, I don't really think this is fair." Buffy said after a moment. "Two of you, both of you having two swords? I've only got the one."
"You attack without honor against our Brethren, time and again. As you just did now." Hairy pointed out. "And you expect us to treat you honorably?"
"Yes?" Buffy offered. These vampires knew her...well, not her...she'd not fought them 'time and again'...
Everything else is wrong – even Giles has moved. If they're still around, of course things have to be different...
"Duel me. You, with the hair. I want your word you'll duel me alone." Buffy grasped at straws. "One sword against one sword, y'know, an honorable fight. How 'bout it?"
Hairy cocked his head a moment, then nodded. "Accepted." He dropped his shortsword. "But if you use any tricks, my companion will join the fight at once. And I will retrieve my second blade."
"Fine." Buffy swallowed deeply. "Ready?" She stepped a little closer to the vampire, holding her sword ready. Hairy approached her, though not quite within sword range and held his blade in front of him. He bowed just a touch – not knowing what else to do, Buffy mimicked the motion.
"Begin." Baldy said, before stepping back to witness the upcoming duel.
Hairy stepped back half a pace, then lunged at her with his sword. Buffy avoided the probe easily, and stepped closer to him, inside of his swing. She blocked his second attack, both hands on her sword, holding it firm against the force of his blow. Then another blow. He was moving quickly – almost too quickly for her. Each swing jarred her arms as blocked it, sending more pain lancing up her injured arm. Buffy bit clear through her lip, tasting blood.
"You cannot win a duel like this, Slayer. If you wish to die, you could have just –"
"Aggh! Why is it that every other vampire I meet seems to think I have a Death Wish!?" Buffy interrupted, making her first attack, thrusting his injured arm again and nicking it as she spoke. "'Cause I don't!" Buffy stepped in closer to the vampire, ducking under a swing and slicing at the vampire's legs – he jumped to the side, avoiding her strike, but he'd lost the initiative as they clashed blades, exchanging strikes, moving back and forth across the area in front of Giles' apartment.
Buffy didn't exactly keep track of how long they went back and forth like that, but two more bouts of lightheadedness nearly cost her, then –
The world spun again and Buffy fell to the ground. She spared a split-second's look at her left arm and saw that the bandage had slipped right off, blood coming out of the cut again – maybe less than before, it was hard to tell, given how much blood was already on her arm...and she didn't exactly look at it very carefully.
"A good fight, Slayer. But you should have realized you were no match for one of the Inner Circle of the Eliminati!" Hairy said, taking his sword in both hands and stabbing down at her in needlessly dramatic fashion.
Immediately Buffy rolled out of the way, wincing a little at the sound of the sword crashing into the 'cobblestones'. She didn't rise to her feet, but instead stabbed at Hairy's legs once more, the sword coming in right behind his right kneecap. As she pulled her weapon out of Hairy, the vampire screamed and collapsed to the ground on his left knee, Buffy clambering to her feet, hurting all over, the world still not staying still for her. She watched the vampire, wanting to end it now, but she couldn't – she needed a moment. A moment was all Hairy needed, though.
Buffy swung her sword into his neck – but a moment too late, as she felt his blade slice across her right leg, just below the knee. Deeper than the one on her arm – Buffy let out a low cry of pain and nearly dropped he sword into the pile of dust that collapsed in front of her. Spitting blood out of her mouth, Buffy turned to Baldy, who was looking from her to the pile of dust.
Buffy took a haltering step forward, managing to ignore the pain in her leg just enough to not visibly limp, even as the pants on her leg started to get its own red stain. She could move the leg, stand on it – that was enough.
Baldy started to raise his swords, but Buffy pointed hers at him.
"Do you really want to risk it? Think I can't dust you just as easily I did as your buddy? I'm a Slayer – good with a sword or not, do you really think you wanna risk it?" Buffy could barely get her bravado to come out without another sound of pain. Her whole body hurt, her muscles and lungs burning from her running and the fighting and then more running and more fighting – her head was spinning, her left arm and right leg bleeding, her palms still sore from her frenzied rush up the brick wall...that was just the beginning of the list.
Baldy looked at her, at her sword and the pile of dust that had been his fellow Eliminatus one more time and then, wordlessly, he turned and ran like the very fires of hell were behind him.
Bad move. Buffy immediately threw a stake with her last remnants of strength, and by some sorta miracle, staked him in the back in just the right spot. Dust flew everywhere...
Buffy let out a shuddering breath and staggered to the wall of Giles' apartment, nearly collapsing against it.
"I can't- I can't..." Buffy thought aloud, "not to Wesley's...need time..." Buffy's words came out between sucking gasps for air, adrenaline leaving her body, the focus that her fight-or-flight reflexes had given her gone...
Sorry Giles. If you're out of town, I need to borrow your apartment...
Buffy used the sword as a cane, pulling herself to her feet and then half-stumbled towards the door. She landed against it, breathing heavy again. Buffy pushed herself fully onto her feet and punched the door, hard, breaking through to the other side. She felt around for the doorknob and the lock – she turned it, unlocking the door and opening up as quickly as she could.
Buffy hobbled in, looking around –
The entire place was empty. Completely bare, apart from the fixtures like the lights and the other apartment amenities. But no table. No couch or furniture. No shelves...no books...
No one lived here. From all the dust, it had obviously been quite a few months since anyone had even entered Giles' home.
Buffy called out once more, her voice a loud hiss, "Giles!" She hadn't expected a response...she didn't get one...
He must've moved...I don't know where, but he's gotta be living somewhere else...I'll have – I'll have to ask Wesley...but first thing's first.
Buffy looked around, looking for anything she could use as a bandage, again –
Drapes.
October 24th, 1999
Outside Wesley's Apartment, Sunnydale, Alternate Universe
Despite her pain, or perhaps because of it, Buffy managed to get a bit of fitful sleep in Giles' former apartment after she'd torn apart the drapes and bandaged her arm and leg – fortunately, the water still worked, so she'd been able to wash the injuries, clean all the blood off her arm and leg before wrapping the cuts...
They'd been thoroughly stained when she woke with the rising sun, but the cut on her arm had more or less closed, dried blood partially filling it. The cut on her leg was still pretty bad, but it wasn't actively bleeding anymore.
But what Buffy had was a jacket minus a sleeve (and with flecks of blood all over it too), a shirt that now bared her midriff because she'd ripped off the lower third and pants that were torn below the right knee and which also had blood on them. That was something she needed to correct.
She hadn't wanted to – but she'd really had no choice. The first halfway decent clothing clothing store she'd found, she had broken in and stolen an outfit her size. She'd felt terrible about it the entire time, but –
If I had any money with me I'd leave it to cover the cost, but since I didn't...
She didn't run to Wesley's apartment – she couldn't, at least not very well. And while she probably couldn't call it limping, she'd favored her right leg quite a bit during the walk from Giles' apartment – his old apartment – to Wesley's place, including the side trip to steal clothes. She was hungry – not thirsty, she'd drunk some water at Giles' place and the pain had her distracted – but at least now with the sun present in the sky, there were no vampires to worry about.
The whole trip took her...maybe forty-five minutes? An hour? She wasn't sure. But now she was inside the building and in front of Wesley's apartment, knocking on his front door. She'd debated with herself about going to Faith's place instead – but she didn't know if her fellow Slayer would even be there, and she needed answers now. First and foremost, she needed to know what the hell was going on; and at least with Wes, she knew he was around in the madhouse which Sunnydale had become ever since 'Anya' had said 'Done!' last night inside the Bronze.
With regard to that, by this point, Buffy had accepted that things were different – she didn't know all the details, obviously. But between the Bronze being an abandoned wreck, Amy being a vampire, Balthazar and his Renn Faire-wannabe minions still hanging around, and Giles having moved...
She'd accepted that things were...different...here and now. But that hadn't prepared her for seeing Wesley in a wheelchair when he opened his door to her knocking – pointing a crossbow at her.
"What the – Wes, what happened to you?!" Her staring at wheelchair made it obvious what she was talking about.
"Very funny, Miss Summers." Wesley replied sourly as he lowered the crossbow and rolled the chair out of the way of the door, not bothering to invite her in, unsurprisingly.
Buffy walked into the apartment anyway, closing the front door behind her. Wesley looked at her again before saying, "In point of fact, I should be asking you that." He gestured to her arm, and the way she had favored her leg as she'd walked into the room.
"El Eliminati." Buffy managed, putting her hand on the wall and leaning into a moment, catching her breath. "And a lot of running." She looked around – the inside of Wesley's apartment was bare, undecorated, apart from several bookshelves and a desk which was itself strewn with books. She rubbed at her temple with her hand for a moment, then: "You wouldn't happen to have – have something to –" She shook her head. Food could wait. "No. Not important right now."
"And what is?" Wesley demanded right back, trying to keep a level tone. "Your question about wish-granting demons? And why do you want to know that? You're a skilled Slayer, but up until now you've not shown much of an interest in the academic aspects of demonology, or been interested in hypothetical demon species. You've always wanted to know about the demon you're facing or the demon you expect to face soon; nothing more, nothing less."
Buffy took a breath. More or less, Wesley was right. She usually didn't have any interest in all that stuff – Wesley and Giles and even Willow could find it all absolutely fascinating, but she had other, usually more immediate concerns.
"Because last night," she answered, "I met someone. I made a wish, she said 'Done!' and then the entire world went different on me. So...I figure it was granted." Wesley gave her a look that was somewhere between mild horror and 'what the hell were you thinking?'
"Hey, I didn't know she was a demon at the time!" Buffy defended herself. "She looked, acted and felt human. I was just..." Her voice trailed off, "I was just talking. I didn't thing it was going to get granted..." Without the stress of combat and the threat of the vampires to run from, the enormity of what had happened was finally hitting her like a ton of bricks.
Am I – am I responsible for Amy becoming a vampire? If it happened from the wish...but how would Angel not coming back from Hell change that...?
Before she could follow that thought any deeper, Wesley spoke.
"Assuming this isn't some sort of fanciful American teenage prank, then perhaps we should start at the beginning. What did you wish for, exactly?" Wesley rubbed at his left temple as he asked her that.
"I wished that Angel hadn't come back from Hell." Well, close enough, anyway. She hadn't used the word 'hell' because she'd thought she was talking to a normal human...
"What? Miss Summers, Angel didn't come back from where you sent him nearly eighteen months ago. I mean, no one can come back from Acathla's hell-world. Unlike many other demon dimensions, that one is truly deserving of the label! And if he was to come back, would he not have returned as Angelus?" Wesley looked at her carefully, and Buffy got the distinct impression he was trying to find out if she was nuts.
Well, he'd say something British, like 'raving loon' or whatever. But still...
"Okay, Wes, listen up and listen carefully! First of all, of course Angel didn't come back from Hell. I wished that he didn't, remember? And then Anya said 'done!' with her face covered in weird veins," a combination of panic, anger and frustration saw her gesturing more than usual as she spoke, "and so he didn't. But originally, before I made that Wish – he did come back, and he was Angel. I don't know how Giles didn't tell you about it – Willow's spell worked...at the last moment. But it was too late, and Angel was the one who got sucked into Hell. Not Angelus!"
Wesley blinked a moment, then, "Granting this...version of events, purely for the sake of argument, I still don't understand. Why would you wish Angel back to Hell? From everything in Mr. Giles' reports, you loved him." Wesley frowned just a touch. "Hang on – did you say 'weird veins'?"
"It's complicated." Buffy started to say about her undead ex, then cut herself off when she heard what else the Watcher was saying. "Yea. Her face was all red and vein-y," she said after a moment. "That ring any bells for you?"
"Perhaps." Wesley rolled the wheelchair over to the desk and picked one of the books off it. He laid the book on his lap and started paging through it. "Was there an amulet involved?"
Buffy thought back to that last moment before the Bronze – the real one – had...melted around her. After a moment, she nodded. "Yea. She was holding an amulet when she said 'Done!'"
Wesley finished paging through the book and handed it to her. Buffy looked at the sketch on one of the pages, and then Wesley; who was looking impatient, waiting for her answer.
"That's her." the Slayer pointed at the demonic image, "That's definitely her – she looks almost exactly like Anya!"
"I see. Well, if it's who I think it is, then 'Anya' is as good a name as any for her to call herself." Wesley answered noncommittally. "As I said, there are only six kinds of demon that grant wishes, that I knew of – and what research I've carried out since your phone call has confirmed that. Only one known species has veins all over their face as you've described. And if there's an amulet involved, that would confirm it."
"Miss Summers, I can only assume you met with Anyanka, the so-called patron saint of scorned women. Unless another vengeance demon was using the name Anya for some reason – which is possible, but most unlikely. She's a vengeance demon, you see; really nasty piece of work, according to the books. And while I don't believe that sketch is of Anyanka herself, it does depict a vengeance demon." He took the book back from Buffy's hands. "They exist to grant wishes to the 'wronged', actually. Wishes relating to vengeance of some sort, usually. But whatever the wish, those demons always find ways to create death and terror with the granting of it."
Wesley frowned. "It has never been known from them to be able to remake the past with the power of a Wish, at least not that I know of, but...then again, very few people would remember such a thing. And of those, even fewer report it to one of the Council's sources." Wesley looked at her, "Miss Summers, if everything I've heard is true, your careless wish has at least led to the death of Amy Madison. If, as I surmise, she's not a vampire where you come from." His tone was quiet, but stiff, unyielding but without obvious accusation. It was a strange tone to hear from Wesley.
The Wesley Buffy knew would be far more accusatory and more aggressive about her responsibilities and her sacred duty and blah-blah-blah. Oddly, she missed that Wesley a lot right now.
After a moment Buffy responded, "Look, Wes, who's to blame for what isn't important right now. What's important is getting this Anyanka demon here so I can force her to undo that wish." I can't think about me being to blame for what happened to Amy...or even what happened to Wesley, whatever the gory details may be...wouldn't wish that on him...
"Miss Summers, three problems with that scenario. One, I have no idea how to summon, locate or procure Anyanka. I imagine she could be summoned, but right now, I have no idea how. Secondly, I have no idea if the Wish can be undone. Thirdly, whatever it is that led us into this situation, this is the real world now – the one you've created without Angel in it. The forces under the command of Balthazar and the forces led by Gwendolyn Post continue to run rampant through Sunnydale, and all the evidence still points to a final clash coming between them soon. Any vampire or demon that can be recruited into one faction or the other has already done so. The rest are either dead, in hiding or watching from the sidelines to see who takes over when the dust settles. Amy Madison and Spike have both neatly fallen into that last category."
Wesley rolled his wheelchair away from the desk. "It will take time to find a way to summon Anyanka, much less bind her powers so that she doesn't immediately go on one of the bloody rampages she's infamous for. So, quite frankly, we need to concentrate on the more immediate problem; namely, the upcoming battle. And while I've mentioned this to you before, if you really an alien to this reality without any memory of the real world...well, this may finally represent the opening we haven't had. If the two of them come to blows and one side dies, the other will be weakened by the clash, their forces thinned. You need to be ready for it."
Buffy shook her head at the rush of new information. What the – Gwendolyn Post was still around too? And she and Balthazar were running things, fighting each other for control of the Hellmouth? Spike was here? Good to know some things haven't changed... For a moment, all thoughts of the pain in her arm and her leg was ignorable, as she tried to process everything Wesley had told her – from 'Anyanka' on down.
"I need to be ready. Right. Okay. Get Giles and have him help – and about that, Wes, where exactly is he? When did Giles move out of his condo? Is he even in Sunnydale right now? I tried calling him first, last night..." She trailed off at the strange look on Wesley's face.
Wesley looked at her gravely. "Well. I suppose that erases my doubt about your incredible-sounding story." Wesley told her softly, then, "I'm sorry, Miss Summers. Mr. Giles is dead. Gwendolyn Post killed him a little over a week after she arrived in Sunnydale...just before he could send a report to the Council that mentioned her, I'd imagine."
Giles is dead?
That thought ran repeatedly through Buffy's head, round and round and round, initially finding no purchase as she tried to deny it. Buffy staggered back, then collapsed, sliding down the wall, tears coming to her eyes unbidden. Her pain was now completely forgotten – her physical pain, anyway.
Giles is dead...and it's all my fault...
"I'm sorry." Wesley said again, looking sympathetic. "I thought – if it was true, even if the history of the world had changed...that particular episode would have been the same...given that you knew who I was. Since I'm your replacement Watcher."
Buffy looked at him, confused. Wait up, he's my Watcher? But then...
"No...Wes, that's not right! I mean, you're supposed to be Faith's Watcher..." Buffy managed to get out after a moment. She hadn't been able to stop the tears either.
"I-" Wesley started, sounding as confused as she felt. Then he shook his head. "No. I'm not. Ah...Faith Lehane is dead, Miss Summers. I never met her, seeing as how Gwendolyn killed her shortly after killing Mr. Giles."
October 24th, 1999
Chase Residence, Sunnydale, Alternate Universe
It had taken Buffy nearly an hour to pull herself together after the dual revelations of Giles' and Faith's deaths.
Their deaths. They were her fault. If she hadn't made that damn wish...
Buffy forced herself to take a deep, slow breath and looked at the exterior of Cordelia's house. She'd never actually been here before – heck, how was it Cordy was still living here? Did her parents not get...
Yeah, probably. Just one more thing to be different in this crazy-ass Wish world. Why am I even surprised any longer?
Still. Mrs. Post had killed Giles...and she'd killed Faith. Wesley had been permanently crippled by Balthazar's torture, since Angel had never shown up to save him that night, and Amy was a vampire.
But everyone else is alive...
She'd nearly gone catatonic with the news of Faith's death...Buffy was pretty sure the only thing that had stopped her from losing it completely was when Wesley had told her...he'd told her her other friends were still alive. That Willow and Xander and Oz and Cordelia were still alive – and that her mom...
Her mom was still alive here. Thank God for that.
What Buffy hadn't been expecting was the news that everyone had moved into the Chase family mansion. According to Wesley, the intent had been to have a base of operations...especially since no one had a job and no one was going to college in this reality. And the only reason he himself wasn't living there was that it wasn't wise to put all their eggs in one basket; if there was a surprise attack on Cordelia's home, someone had to be external to the whole situation and be able to respond, somehow.
The only thing resembling a bright spot in this insane new world was that the Mayor was dead...killed long before Graduation by Balthazar, alongside Finch and Trick...
Buffy made her way to the front door and knocked.
Right before she'd left Wesley's apartment, 'her' Watcher had given her a word of advice...she wasn't sure if she was going to use it or not...she didn't think so, but Wes had warned her not to tell everyone that she had caused all this. Tempers were volatile here and now, Wes had told her. Better to lie and just pretend that she'd lost her memory...
For a moment, there was no answer, and then the door opened, her mother – her very sleep-deprived, bags under her eyes mother – was on the other side of the threshold.
Joyce Summers saw Buffy standing in the sunlight and immediately embraced her daughter, holding her tight. "Buffy! Oh dear God, I was so worried about you – Xander said you...you just vanished last night on patrol...everyone's tried to- young lady, where have you been?! Wesley said that you called him, briefly, but he didn't know where you were-" Her mother seemed to realize that she was almost babbling and cut herself off. "Never mind, sweetheart. You're back home, and you're alright. That's what's important."
"Not entirely alright, mom." Buffy told her mother after returning the hug. Her mother pulled away from the hug, looking at her daughter and seeing the cut on her arm, the way she was favoring her leg. She gasped and started to say something, but Buffy kept going. "Had a couple fights with the Renn Faire-wannabes last night. They're dust, but...they got a few hits in on me."
"Oh, Buffy." Her mother embraced her again a moment before pulling back. "But - What happened?" She asked again, not babbling this time. "Where did you go? Everyone looked almost all night for you!"
"Well, I...that's..." Buffy paused a moment, trying to figure out what to say. She didn't want to just lie...but...
She didn't want to tell them the truth either. Not yet...
Does that make me a bad person...?
I'm responsible for Giles and Faith's deaths...that makes me a bad –
Buffy forcibly chopped that thought off before she could finish it. She couldn't – she couldn't think about that.
"It's not a very simple answer." Buffy said after a moment. "And it would be easier for me to tell everyone about it. Everyone at once. Are they up?"
"Oz might be. But everyone got back right before dawn." Buffy watched her mother sag a little, standing and she realized that her mother looked...years older. "They've probably only been asleep for less than an hour..."
"Mom." Buffy said softly, looking at her mother. "Did you get any sleep at all last night?"
Her mother shook her head, "No, honey. I'm sorry, but I just couldn't. I know you're the Slayer and all, but I can't help it – with everything happening nowadays...you know how hard it is for me to get to sleep when you're still out and about..."
Yeah, that Buffy could remember. And she should've known how that wouldn't have changed. Her mother had always been able to get some decent sleep in the days before she'd known about the Slayer thing, but once she'd learned what it was her daughter did almost every night...it had been increasingly common for her mom to be awake when she got home.
"I'm sorry." Buffy said softly. "Mom, go get some rest. I need – I need to eat something and – put some kind of real bandage on my leg, clean the cuts with hydrogen peroxide. Wesley didn't really have much of a first aid kit."
"Why am I not surprised? Apart from finding out about vampires and demons in his books and the like, he's not much good for anything." Her mother said sternly, "And he's still just as rude as he always was, when he..." Her voice trailed off.
"When he first got here?" Buffy offered, her voice soft. However Wesley had been when he'd arrived...after...
He couldn't have been much better than when he arrived...in my time? For real? What...what do I call what...what I remember?
Buffy had never been an extensive consumer of sci-fi or fantasy – especially not after becoming the Slayer. That was more Xander's thing, to be honest. But she'd picked up on things from time to time – like she could name a few Star Trek characters, and recognize some others on sight. She'd seen the Star Wars movies, she'd picked up ideas and concepts from time to time.
Wasn't there a...Evil Twin Universe – Mirror Universe, that's it! And people went there...
That was it. She'd tell them – she'd tell everyone that she was another Buffy Summers, from another universe...where things were different...history had turned out different. It wasn't that far from the complete truth, all things considered.
"When he first got here." Her mother agreed with Buffy's previous question, her voice barely above a whisper. She shook her head a moment, obviously dismissing Wesley from consideration. "Buffy, are you sure you don't need my help with-"
"I can handle myself, mom." Buffy said with a soft, somewhat forced smile, though she did her best to make it look natural. "Go get some rest. You look like you need it." Her mother nodded.
"Alright." She stepped aside and let Buffy inside with the wordless invitation. "Clean your cuts and put on some bandages first? I think Willow restocked the first aid kit in the guest bathroom just the other day."
"Will do, mom." Buffy said, silently grateful her mother had told her – sort of – where the first aid kit was.
Now if I can just figure out where the 'guest bathroom' is...
October 24th, 1999
Sitting Room, Chase Residence, Sunnydale, Alternate Universe
It hadn't taken Buffy as long as she'd thought it would take for her to find the guest bathroom. And soon enough, she'd gotten her injuries cleaned up and bandaged far better than her previous makeshift efforts. Slayer Healing would let her recover fast, but not as quickly as she would have liked...
And after she'd seen to the cuts, and made her way to the kitchen and gotten some food into her, Buffy had thought up exactly what sort of story she'd be telling.
She couldn't tell them about the wish. She just couldn't – the accusations...her friends blaming her for this, this nightmarish Wish-world – maybe it was cowardly of her, but Buffy simply couldn't force herself to confess about what she'd done. It wouldn't help, anyway, no matter how justified they'd be blaming her for – everything.
Wes didn't say much before we parted company, at least not about the good ol' Scooby Gang. I wonder what's happened to them all in this...world? What have I cost them?
Was Xander's dad still dead? What about his mom? How had Cordelia been able to stay in the house – and let everyone live here? What about her parents? And Willow – what about her parents? Oz's? And none of them were at college?
Well, neither am I, apparently. Guess we all have other priorities around here.
Her mother had said they'd all been out last night looking for her – hopefully...hopefully, that meant that none of them were as badly hurt as Wesley – not crippled or...anything like that. But what else could have happened to them in the meantime?
After she was done eating, Buffy had gone to the central room on the ground floor – it looked kind of like a living room? But the mansion was pretty big – and rich people had more rooms than they needed for each thing – she'd already seen two dining rooms, after all.
Buffy had kept an eye on the clock, and given her friends and her mother as much time to rest as she thought they could get away with – an hour or so – before she couldn't wait any longer. It was time to speak to everyone, and spin a yarn that would totally light her pants on fire.
I have to lie...but only a little...not as much as-
Buffy took a deep breath and forced herself to stay calm. First she needed to wake her friends and her mother up, and get them to come down here, so she could tell them the necessary lie. Wow, shades of Angel there. But still. All together. All at once.
First off Buffy woke up her mother, then they woke everyone else. As she could have expected, Buffy got hugged firmly by Willow and Xander, both of whom wanted to know what happened, and even Cordelia was surprisingly happy to see her. Are we friends here? Friends friends? Oz, of course, was his usual non-talky, Zen self. He'd greeted her, but hadn't been very much with with the visible reactions.
It was...comforting for Oz to behave just like he always did. Something familiar to hold onto.
Each one of her friends asked her where she'd been, and what had happened to her. She'd told them all the same thing – she'd tell them downstairs. All together. It took maybe ten minutes for everyone to wake up, get dressed and come downstairs to what was apparently the 'sitting room'.
On the surface, each of her friends seemed more or less the same. But not...not entirely. None of them had missing arms or shattered kneecaps or other serious injuries – thank God – but on each of them, there were scars and bruises. Small cuts here and there, mostly – but even more, there were...little things which she noticed right off the bat, little things that were different.
All of them – even her mother – now wore a cross around their necks. Cordelia and Xander usually did that anyway, Buffy knew, but Willow and Oz...she'd never seen either one of them wear a crucifix at the base of their throat. Probably 'cause one was Jewish and the other was...well, whatever religion it was which Oz followed. He probably worshiped the gods of rock 'n roll, or something like that. Oh, sure, Willow might have a cross on hand once in a while, and Oz almost always had one on hand these days, but they'd never worn the necklaces...
But that was hardly all. With Oz, it was harder to put into simple words. He'd always been a fairly private guy, in a lot of ways. But here and now, he seemed far more...guarded. There was a...a strange cast to his face she'd not seen before. And there was a look in Oz's eyes – she wasn't sure how to describe it. A part of her wanted call it...'haunted'. But the rest of her didn't really think that was the right word. Plus, Buffy didn't really know what a 'haunted' look looked like. But there was a look on the werewolf's face, nonetheless.
With Willow, there was the obvious stuff she'd noticed first – the tips of her friend's hair in quite a few places were...black. Like she'd dyed her hair a while ago and it had grown out since and almost all of the dyed hair was gone by now. But that wasn't all – Willow carried herself differently now. There was an almost...predatory look in her eyes.
Maybe? Buffy wasn't entirely sure. It was hard to describe, and it was only there for the briefest of moments anyway.
With Xander, the first thing she'd noticed was that he was wearing an Eliminati shortsword on his belt. An honest to God sword-belt, like El Eliminati used, and the sword in a scabbard. Buffy had known her friend had been making something of an effort to learn how to use a sword...sure, without the instinctive abilities which being a Slayer gave her, his progress had been slow, and he almost never took it with him if he was out on patrol – and Xander certainly didn't carry it around with him. Well, he never used to...
But the next thing about him Buffy had noticed was far more subtle – she almost didn't see it under the collar of his shirt – two small holes...well, no. Two sets of two such scarred wounds. He'd been bitten by a vampire recently enough for the scars to still be visible...twice.
For Cordelia – the big, obvious difference was her hair. It was incredibly short – like, less than shoulder-length short. Buffy was uncomfortable seeing her old classmate having hacked off her long brunette locks –she knew how important Cordelia's hair was to her. Plus, Xander's girlfriend wasn't wearing make-up and eye-shadow and lipstick and everything else one associated with the fashion diva that was Cordelia Chase –
Well, really, that was just the things Buffy had noticed on the surface. Which...was odd. There had to be more. So whatever it was for Cordelia that had really changed...
She's not as obvious about it...
All five of them – her friends and her mother – also moved with a wariness she'd never seen in them before. Still, it made sense...if she was making the right guess from what her mother had said earlier, they were going out and fighting the vampires nightly. The group reminded her of...her, almost, in the way they carried themselves. Like they were ready to fight or run or react at a moment's notice.
Her friends...her mother. They were all the same – the same people she knew in her...universe...her original reality? What the hell am I supposed to call it!? Well, whatever, these people were the same as those she knew there – almost. But not quite. There were differences, and Buffy was sure there was more than what she'd discovered so far – stuff she couldn't see just on first glance, lurking underneath the surface.
"Alright." Buffy said softly when they were all seated. Frowning, the Slayer cleared her throat and then started again. "Alright." She said in a louder, clearer voice. "I've got a lot to tell you guys. And you're going to need to let me finish before you say anything. Okay? Because this is probably going to be really hard for you to believe, but it's true. I mean, reallyhard to-" Buffy cut herself off before she could start babbling and lose track of everything.
"First off, I'm Buffy Summers, but I – I'm not the Buffy you all know." Buffy kept talking – as much to not give herself a chance to second-guess herself as to stop the group from interrupting her, because already she could see them all starting to speak. "And you...you people aren't the Willow and Oz and Xander and Cordelia and...and Mom that I know. This isn't the Sunnydale that I know." Buffy swallowed and stood up. "You all wanted to know what happened last night? Well, bottom line...I don't know what happened to your Buffy Summers. I can only tell you what happened to me."
Buffy took a breath, but it was very short and shallow – she couldn't give them a single free moment to interrupt. Not until she was done. She could see Xander's hand fall to the hilt of his sword, Willow's fingers twitching strangely, Oz leaning in towards her almost dangerously, and Cordelia's hand's starting to clench. Only her mother wasn't reacting...aggressively. She was just looking at her, carefully, as if examining her in detail...
Buffy forced herself to keep going. "Last night, I was in the Bronze. The Bronze in my Sunnydale. A Bronze that had people in it – still a popular hangout spot for people our age...and then...everything went...black for a second, and then...well, I'm still in the Bronze, but it looks like a tornado has gone through it. And then Amy – who's a suddenly a vampire, even though she shouldn't be – attacks me and I run. And then...there were vampires with swords and ordinary-looking vamps and I kept running...I, eventually I got to Wesley's apartment..."
"His best guess..." Now she was really lying. And if Wesley didn't play along...no, better not to think about that. The Watcher had nothing to gain from telling everyone the truth, what with the current hellish situation.
"His best guess," Buffy said again, "After I told him what happened...after I tried to get him to tell me why...everything was different all of a sudden. The best he could figure was that – well, for lack of a better way to put it – he said that I'm a Buffy from a different universe. One where history turned out different, you know? Because...I don't remember Amy being a vampire. I don't remember Wesley in a wheelchair. I don't remember us all moving here..." She gestured around the sitting room, encompassing the entire house with her words. "I don't remember Balthazar and his Eliminati minions still being around. I don't remember Gwendolyn Post still being around. And – and..." Buffy's voice broke and she fell back onto the chair she'd been sitting in not a few minutes before. "And I don't remember Giles and Faith being dead!"
Despite her best efforts, tears came unbidden to her eyes. Buffy dug her fingernails into her arm, trying desperately to stop herself from breaking down into uncontrolled sobbing.
If...if I can't fix this...If this is permanent...Giles and Faith...they'll stay dead...they'll stay dead, and it will be my fault!
Buffy took in a deep breath, looking at her friends, at her mother. She could see the doubt, the suspicion, the skepticism in their eyes. They didn't believe her – but did they think she was lying, or just nuts? Did they think she was...not Buffy at all? That she was evil? A demon shapeshifter or something? She didn't know...couldn't tell...
"Well...not that I like agreeing with Monarchy Boy about anything, but that would explain why you're missing that scar on your cheek." Xander said after a moment.
"And why you're not wearing that silver chain with the...Claddy-ring, or whatever it was that Angel gave you, around your neck." Cordelia added.
Willow reached over to Buffy and grabbed her hand, holding her wrist tightly – tight enough that if Buffy weren't the Slayer, it might hurt – and then her eyes went...solid black for a second.
Buffy immediately felt weird as her entire body glowed white for a second. She stared at Willow in open-mouthed shock, before the witch let go of her hand and looked at the rest of them.
"She's Buffy...or else a perfect illusion making her look like Buffy. Sound like Buffy. Even to the point of mimicking Buffy's aura – which, is really hard to pull off!" The witch told everyone, and Buffy noticed that the black had crawled up Willow's hair just a touch in a few places...
"Smells like her, too." Oz said after a moment.
"Okay, that's all well and good, but I'm still not completely sold." Cordelia said. She looked at Buffy carefully. "Tell us something that only Buffy would know. Then we'll worry about whether or not your story makes any sense."
"It's not my 'story', Cordelia. It's the truth!" Buffy frowned, trying to think of something. She looked at her mother, who had yet to say anything. "Mom, from the day before my 6th birthday to like...a week after my 7th, I asked you for a white fluffy cat I wanted to name Snowball. Every day." Okay, granted, her dad also knew about that, and a few other people in Los Angeles, but no one in Sunnydale that she knew of. And that was the first thing that came to mind.
She looked at the others, "At the start of Junior year, Cordy – when we were alone outside the Bronze, you told me I was 'really campaigning for Bitch of the Year'." Buffy didn't remember mentioning that to anyone. Cordy might have, but it just never came up for her.
"Xander, when you came to L.A. to find me, after I ran away that summer...you told me that I was the bravest person you'd ever met. You asked me if running away had made it hurt any less." She looked over to Willow. "Willow, you-"
The red-haired witch cut Buffy off. "No, don't bother. I believe you, Buff. I believe that you're you, anyway. But a Buffy from a different universe? I mean, yeah, I know the basic physics behind the multiple-universe theory. But that's all it is – just a theory. No one's ever crossed over from another universe, as far as I know!"
"Yeah, well, we deal with vampires and demons and magic on a regular basis. Willow, you're a witch. Oz is a werewolf. I'm a mystically powered superhero. But jumping into an alternate universe is where you gotta draw the line? Come on, Will, we all became our Halloween costumes almost two years ago!" Buffy wiped the last few tears from the corner of her eyes and looked at her friends. "Look, I'm not lying. And I'm not crazy. Or if I am crazy, it's because I'm thinking I must be absolutely nuts ending up in a completely nightmarish Sunnydale like this one, which isn't the Sunnydale I know! And the friends I know would believe me. After everything we've been through, they'd believe me!" She stood up. "So either you believe me, or I must be insane to think you're anything like the friends I know from my...from my universe. Because if that's the case, even beyond the physical differences I can see just looking at everyone – clearly you're not."
Oz looked at the others and nodded once. "I'm sold."
October 24th, 1999
Kitchen, Chase Residence, Sunnydale, Alternate Universe
Oz's words – and hers – seemed to have broken through any remaining disbelief her friends may have had. She could tell they were still tentative of accepting her presence here, but they weren't in denial or treating her as some sort of...threat. Willow was apparently going to do some research on the whole 'alternate universe' thing. It wouldn't help any at all, but it would keep them from...
Buffy chopped off that train of thought again.
"You wanted to talk to me in private?" Xander said after a moment, looking at her somewhat suspiciously. Darn. Well, it couldn't be helped –
"Yeah, Xander. Look, I know you get information from some sorta mysterious source that you can't tell me or anyone else much in the way of details of. At least, you do in my Sunnydale. That's how you found out about me being in L.A. and that demon you pulled the face off of. I'm assuming all that happened here – but I don't know what your source has told you since, because things aren't the same here. Still...I'm correct that he still tells you stuff, right?"
"Not sure if 'he' is the right way to put it." Xander said softly, then frowned. "Huh, that's new. Never been able to tell anyone that before."
"The you from my universe is exactly the same way, as far as I know." Buffy said softly. "Xander, what do you know about what's coming? Wesley filled me in on a little...are Balthazar and Mrs. Post going to have their big showdown soon?"
"Two days." Xander told her, then, "That's also new." He looked at her in amazement, took a quick breath, and spoke: "Okay, I'm convinced; you're obviously not from around here, the mojo isn't working on you. Not yet, anyway. But getting back on topic, there's going to be a big fight – pretty sure it's going to be at Sunnydale High two days from now, on the night of October 26th. I have no idea who's going to win, but it's going to get bloody for both sides – and for us." He looked away. "One of us is going to die, don't ask who. But then we've been living on borrowed time for too long, barely keeping our heads above water – we've killed a few vampires here and there, sure. Knocked out some small outposts belonging to one side or the other. But it's still not enough." He laughed darkly. "Not even putting Oz near some of them when the full moon's about to rise, and unleashing his furry alter ego..."
"You – what!? You guys actually used Oz as a-" Buffy couldn't control her outburst initially, but then swallowed the rest of her words. Especially at the dark, angry look in Xander's eyes.
"Oz volunteered. And seriously, Buffy-Two; don't judge what we've had to do – what the you of this reality has had to do! We've been on the edge of Hell for nearly a year now, ever since that British bitch came to town and killed Giles and Faith. I've let vampires come close enough to bite me to get a better chance at killing them. Cordelia nearly got her head burnt to a crisp two weeks ago! And Willow has had to push herself with the magicks to the point where it may be shortening her lifespan, or even permanently polluting her soul, or whatever the hell it is that black magic is supposed to do. I don't know all the details, and I don't want to know; it helps me be able to sleep during the day. My dad is dead. My mother is only alive because I all but forced her at sword-point to move in with some relatives out of town. Willow's parents are still alive only because they're constantly on their tour and lecture circuit, and they never come back to this hellhole anymore. Oz's parents were nearly killed, before they finally got out of town!"
"And Cordelia's mom and dad?" Buffy swallowed, dreading the answer.
"They're dead, of course. You think we'd be all here, if they were still alive? Mr. and Mrs. Chase died not long after New Year's, and my girlfriend officially inherited everything a few days later on her 18th birthday. It's how we're still in food and crossbow bolts!" Xander took a breath. "Pretty much the only thing that kept Cordelia going for a month after they were murdered, apart from me, was the thought of revenge. Even now, it's still her driving force. So don't you even think about judging us on what we've had to do to survive!" Xander brandished his hand angrily, then took a breath.
"I'm sorry." Buffy said softly. "I'm sorry I'm not the Buffy you know. And I'm sorry that..." She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry that I...that I didn't think about what you've had to go through. Xander, you have a point – I'm not sure it's the right one, yea, but I shouldn't be judging you when I've only been here for less than a day. At least not the way I did. I know you want your Buffy back, and I'm sorry I'm not her." She looked at him dead on. "But I am the Buffy that's here now. And until someone can figure out how to get your Buffy back here and me back to my Sunnydale, I'm going to help you come out on top of this."
Buffy exhaled, loudly. " Balthazar and Post are going to have their big fight. They're going to fight in the High School. They're after the Hellmouth, right?"
Xander nodded after a moment. "Yep. I figure they'd have to be."
"So let's blow stuff up." Buffy said flippantly, remembering when Sunnydale High had been blown up before. Worked for the Mayor. Should work for two armies of vampires and demons.
Xander blinked. "Blow...blow stuff up?"
"We used a rocket launcher on the Judge at the mall. Your idea, remember? And where I'm from, we ended up using the 'blow up the school' option. To kill a gigantic demon-snake. At Graduation." She smiled for a moment at the shocked look on Xander's face. "Okay, I'm not saying let's blow the entire school. And I know we only have two days, but can't we rig something up? Fertilizer and chemicals? Smaller than in my Sunnydale, I'm thinking. Kill all their minions, maybe even them either during or after their big fight?"
Xander said nothing for a moment, then he mused slowly, "Huh. Well, I guess that's more Willow's department than anything else, but yea. That may work. Sunnydale High now has barely half the students it did last year, and even less the year before that. Makes it easier to sneak in, set up something like that and hide it than it might have been. Don't know why I..." He started to turn around, then stared at her quizzically. "Okay, Buffy-Two, let's test just how much I'm allowed to tell you. Since I've already been able to tell you a lot more than I've ever been able to tell anyone, even Giles..."
Xander's gaze hardened slightly. " I get only a very specific class of information, Buff. About what's going to happen. No – when something may happen, I can act to change it and I have. And I only learn what I do because a certain 'someone' decided that I'm a convenient vehicle to create-" Xander abruptly started choking, his hands flying to his throat. He staggered back and started coughing violently for a moment, before he finally got control of himself. "Shit. Well, there you go. Window of opportunity's been closed, I'm thinking." He sighed. "What the hell. Gotta take what you can get, I suppose."
Buffy had already guessed that someone was using Xander for something like that, with providing the information...being the choice of 'vehicle'. But Xander's seeming uncertainty on that someone's gender...what was all that about? And saying 'something', as if it wasn't a person, or person-like...
Something I should discuss with him once I get back home. Well, if I can.
"Thanks for being willing to try to find out." Buffy said softly. Then she cleared her throat. "So...what are the other high points I've missed? What else has happened during the last year that I should know about?"
"The last year?"
Buffy shrugged. "Roughly twelve months. After I spoke with Wesley, I figured that that's when our histories...diverged." Not exactly a lie, but not exactly the pure unvarnished truth either...
"Well, Spike's in town. I'm guessing that hasn't changed from the history you know? He tried to kidnap Willow last year, but it didn't exactly work out for him. Apparently, he was really drunk at the time. After he sobered up he worked with Trick for a while, but apart from that, he's just been floating around the edge of everything. Talks a big game, but he hasn't managed to kill you yet."
"Sounds familiar. Let's just hope he doesn't find the Gem of Amarra here, either."
"The what?"
"The Gem of Amarra. Green gemstone in a brass ring. Makes vampires invincible as long they wear it. Spike found it in my...my universe." She tripped over the phrase again. It was...so unusual. So strange. "I can show you on a map of Sunnydale where he found it. Probably a good idea that no one finds it here."
"Yea. That would be the understatement of the century, Buffy-Two."
October 24th, 1999
Dining Room, Chase Residence, Sunnydale, Alternate Universe
After the little revelation of Buffy not belonging in this Sunnydale, and a brief phone call to Wesley to confirm Buffy's story, everyone went their separate ways for a few hours. The others still needed rest, though Buffy didn't think any of them actually slept.
But finally, at 10:30, everyone was more awake and ready for whatever was going to come next.
Buffy wasn't sure what was next, but when they all assembled in the dining room, Xander had rolled out a map of Sunnydale and blueprints of Sunnydale High. The map of the town was strewn with written notes and Post-its, information about locations and possible locations of nests and hideouts belonging to the two evil armies that had turned Sunnydale into a war zone.
"There doesn't seem to be any clear boundaries between territory." Buffy said, looking at the map carefully. "I mean, from what you have here, they don't seem have split Sunnydale up half and half."
"No. You'd think they'd go for that, but neither of them seem interested in territory for its own sake." Willow said, nodding. "Both sides just want...good real-estate. Mystical hotspots, graveyards, prime hunting zones."
"The only spot neither side has taken of any value," Xander added, "Is the Hellmouth itself. Which is why I'm certain that's what they're going to go after for the big fight. They've both had regular patrols around the school, but we've seen no evidence of them attacking each others' hideouts."
"Any idea how many vamps each side has? Anything about who might win?"
"Balthazar is more picky with who exactly he recruits." Xander said, shrugging slightly. "And they're dedicated slash mind-controlled.. But Post takes any vampire she can and just intimidates them all with her Glove."
"She has the Glove?" Buffy frowned. "Well, then, I'll need something really sharp that I can throw from a distance."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Cordelia demanded.
"That Glove isn't coming off Post's arm without cutting the whole thing off, Cordelia. That's what the Watchers in my universe had to do, after your boyfriend knocked her out with a baseball bat in the library –practically the moment she put it on." She nodded at Xander. "She was busy gloating and didn't notice you right behind her. Not something we'll be able to pull off here, I'm thinking, at least not easily. And I'm guessing she's never going to let us get close enough-"
"Not a chance." Cordelia confirmed. "She doesn't even let her minions get close to her, from what we've seen. She just zaps everyone if they invade her personal space. She used to need to call up a lightning storm – y'know, have outside access. But now she can throw it around wherever the hell she wants, anytime."
"Fun." Buffy's brow furrowed as she looked over the map of Sunnydale High. "Willow, what kind of explosives can you do?"
"Nothing fancy. Homemade stuff. No decent detonators or anything. Rig the doors to go boom is about the best I'd ever be able to do in the time we have. We'd need to get the material and set stuff up the next couple nights. Plus we need to make sure the students don't trip anything." Willow frowned. "Ideally, we should force everyone to get out and stay out of the school for the next couple days."
"So set it on fire tonight." Cordelia suggested. "No one will be there, there are no night-time security guards anymore. Because no one's dumb enough to commit suicide that way! Plus no firefighters will arrive to put it out for a while, given...well, everything that's happening in Sunnydale. Classes will be canceled for a while, hopefully as long as we need them to be."
" Set the school on fire?" Willow said, then, to Buffy's astonishment, smirked. "I like it, Cordy. Elegant."
"Molotov cocktails? Windows?" Oz suggested.
"Toss 'em into the library, maybe some into the Chem lab as well." Xander pointed to two spots on the blueprint. "Here and here. Where else, though? I mean, I'm just guessing here. With a little bit of Soldier Boy to help." He frowned. "Damn it, all that's slipping away fast. I'm not going to be able to use him for much longer."
"If this works to destroy as many vampires as we'd like it to," Cordelia pointed out, a harsh note in her voice, "you won't need him for much longer."
"As long as Post and Balthazar are still around, it won't matter how many of their vamps we get rid of." Xander disagreed.
Buffy blinked, trying to keep up with the conversation. Once again, these people were acting so unlike her own friends... "Are we sure that setting the school on fire is the best way?"
"If we had a week, maybe two, might be better options." Willow answered. "But I don't think we have that long."
"I'm telling you. We're gonna have two days at most. Balthazar's never been the patient type, we all know that! Hell, it only took him twenty minutes to go from capturing Wesley to destroying his kneecaps." Xander pointed out. "I'm just amazed the guy lasted the full twenty-"
"Snark about Wesley after this." Buffy interrupted. "We've got two armies of vampires and demons to worry about." She looked at the blueprint of Sunnydale High. "So we burn the building and then we plant explosives in the wreckage. Any other traps we can do? Holes with stakes?" She couldn't help a quiet laugh. "Should we call ACME?"
"If the sprinklers end up staying at least a little intact, we can put in some Holy Water." Willow suggested. "And there might be other options." She looked at the blueprints and pointed. "Let's throw one of the Cocktails in here."
"And here." Oz pointed.
"Still, what do we do in the meantime? Even if we have two, maybe three days. We can't just let them sit on their asses, or grab free meals off the streets." Cordelia jabbed at the map of Sunnydale. "We need to keep on killing the fucking vamps every night."
"Agreed." Buffy said softly. "You guys get Sunnydale High ready for this big fight." She looked at her friends – well, the people here that looked almost like her friends, sorta thought like them...
And sorta didn't.
"And while you do that. I'm going to war."
