Disclaimer: Both BtVS and Firefly belong to Joss Whedon. The basic idea for this story came from Yahtzee's Phoenix Rising. The idea of mixing these two 'verses in this way is mine.
Thank you to those who have reviewed so far (and those who will review subsequent chapters -meaningful look-). Just wanted to address some things mentioned in said reviews--a lot of questions and things brought up will be addressed and/or answered throughout the story. Just two things I felt needed clarification other than through the story. 1) Willow's magic is explained in this chapter to a certain degree, but I've never really seen her use magic instinctively unless she was already doing magic. 2) The Caleb/Mal thing is not even an issue. I look at it, same actor, two completely different characters who may or may not look somewhat similar. The fact that they 'look alike' has already been addressed, and rather well, in a Xander-centric crossover, so not going to play with that. Mal's fun enough without making him look like an evil preacher dude with a thing against the female population.
With that said, on with the show.
A Leaf on the Wind
Time to Go
Life on Serenity was quiet, even fun at times. The other passenger, a man named Bree, was heading to Beaumont to catch a ship to some little planet with a mining colony. At dinner in the evenings, he joined in with the crew in telling amusing stories about his work. Through these dinner conversations, and conversations through out the day, Willow learned some about recent history and the crew. Simple stuff, like that Hawaiian-shirt-guy was called Wash and was the pilot and Zoe's husband. That Zoe and the captain had apparently known each other for a very long time. That Kaylee was the ship's mechanic. That Simon and River tended to keep to themselves. Oh, and that there had apparently been a war in the recent past that still caused much tension. She so needed to find a history book. She felt like she was trying to wade through the sea without a map, compass, or boat. There had to be some version of the internet here, right? Okay, inter-planetary-net.
A day or two after getting on board, after listening to Jayne poke fun at Inara, she struck on an idea. And after dinner, she put it into action.
She followed Inara out of the kitchen. "Hey, uh--Inara?"
Inara turned then smiled and gestured. "Walk with me. What is it?"
Willow caught up with her and offered her own smile. She had tried to figure out the best way to approach her want of information, and had decided that going with something she'd already admitted ignorance of would be best.
"I've been wondering," she said as they made their way down the hall. "You don't have any information on the history of Companioning, do you? Is that a word?"
"It can be," Inara chuckled. "I've heard it used as a noun, adjective, and a verb, so I suppose anything goes."
They descended the stairs to the lower level.
"There are several good articles in the encyclopedia and on the Cortex." Inara glanced at her. "May I ask why you're interested?"
Willow had an answer to that all ready. "My father wasn't the only one who liked history. It's one of my hobbies. You--er--wouldn't happen to have access to either of those, would you? Or know where I could find one?"
Inara stopped and gave her an odd look, like she was trying to decide something. Finally, she nodded. "I have a computer with an encyclopedia and Cortex access. Would you like to borrow it?"
Willow nodded fast, grateful. "If you don't mind."
"It's in my shuttle."
Inara led the way to her shuttle and opened the door. Willow stepped in with a low whistle. "Nice."
That made Inara chuckle as she went to get the computer. "I entertain clients here. It helps to look--"
"Sumptuous?" Willow suggested, then went a little red.
"I was going to say impressive, but sumptuous does nicely." Inara laughed as she offered Willow the small computer.
"Thanks." Willow smiled then asked, "Um--is there a password or anything?"
"No." Inara shook her head. "No password."
"Okay, thanks. Thanks a lot," Willow said. "I'll get this back as soon as I can."
"No hurry," Inara said. "By the time we reach Beaumont is fine."
"Okay. Yeah, okay. Thanks." Willow nodded several times. "Thank you very much."
"You're very welcome," Inara said, amused. She watched the younger woman leave, thoughtful, then went to her shuttle computer and connected to the Cortex. She didn't find what she was looking for, which was a relief. She liked the quiet redhead, even if she was a bit odd.
-
Willow returned to her room and fiddled with the computer until she figured out how it worked, then she settled with her back against the headboard and started reading through whatever articles she could find on history. The information available was amazingly sparse. There had been a mass exodus from Earth--called Earth that Was for some reason--from some unspecified catastrophe. They had terra-forming technology, and so had terra-formed planets to support human life. Time had passed, then the War for Independence had happened a few years ago. That was it. Oh, it had information on the planets, on the reigning government, the Alliance, plenty of information on the war. All of it at least a little useful for Willow, but she couldn't find the information she was really searching for., She hadn't known she'd been so narrowly focused on this bit of information until she realized that she had skipped over several interesting articles about the cultures of several planets, including the one she was heading for, without so much as a passing glance.
She wanted to know when she was. Not by Alliance reckoning, or planet reckoning, but by her reckoning. How long had it been since she'd--since she'd been alive? Several hundred years, obviously, but…but…Willow knew it was dumb, pointless, not something she needed to know, but--she really did need to know. What year was it, by the standard to her, ancient to them, A.D. count? Three hundred years? Four? Eight? Ten? It wouldn't make a difference to her situation, but she was lost, adrift in a time not her own, without her friends. She needed something familiar to latch onto, and the only thing she could think of was knowing exactly when she was.
She sighed and thumped the back of her head against the headboard. "Okay," she said aloud to the room. "What would Buffy do if she was here?"
She considered that question.
"Strike that. What would Giles do if he was here?" She considered that for a moment. "Probably tell me to make sure I knew what I was dealing with. Which I don't. Not really. Morons with resurrection abilities. What next?"
Next would be to check the arsenal. She had no weapons, but magic…
She frowned at the computer that sat on the bed in front of her, and it levitated. So that worked. Only, something felt weird with that.
She frowned harder when she realized that the usual brimming magical reserves were seriously depleted. Was that because she had been brought back from the dead? She had been incredibly off-balance that first few hours after waking up, one of the reasons she hadn't blasted the people intent on killing her to kingdom come. Also the fact that performing magic in front of people was usually a bad idea, and that her fight or flight instincts hadn't added 'magic' to the list of split second options, especially when a kick in the teeth and a good head start were battling it out for first move. Now that she had had a couple days to settle in, calm down, and digest what had happened to her, the fact that her magic seemed much depleted worried her.
When Buffy came back to life, she was a little out of it, she told herself, trying to reassure herself. It'll come back.
A treacherous other part felt the need to point out, She remembered being in heaven. You don't. Ergo, not an excuse.
Shut up.
Wait a minute--heaven. Buffy had remembered being in heaven. Willow--didn't. It wasn't like she remembered being in hell, because she didn't, but…she searched her memory for anything before that darkness that had preceded wakefulness, but all she got was the vaguest sense of light. Before that came the memory of her death, or at least the parts up until she died, and she really didn't want to look at that again. Once was quite enough.
A knock on her door jerked her out of her thoughts. She frowned a little at the door in puzzlement. "Come in?"
The door slid open and Shepherd Book stepped in, a Bible in his hands. Willow smiled. A few days on board the ship had confirmed her initial opinion of the man--she liked him. He kind of reminded her of Giles, in a quiet-elder-voice-of-experience way. "Hi Shepherd. What's up?"
"I was about to ask you that very question," Book said. "I heard muttering and what sounded distinctly like a head thump as I was passing, so I thought I'd see if you were all right."
She smiled wanly. "I'm all right. Just--trying to work some things out.
"Anything I could help with?" he asked. "I'm told I offer a good ear."
"Not really, Shepherd. Thanks though." Willow eyed the Bible and wondered…but a religious person would know, right? "Say, Shepherd, random question, but when was that thing written?"
Book looked puzzled for a moment, then held up the Bible. "What, this?"
"Yeah." At his continued puzzlement, she explained, "I wasn't raised Christian, but, ah, a friend asked me a while back, and I just now thought of it."
"Ah." He smiled. "Well, there is time to fix that, you know."
Willow snorted. What would he say if he found out she was a Jewish-raised-turned-Wiccan?
"Are you asking about when it was translated for the first time? Or written the first time? Because the different books were written at different times."
"Just the--uh--New Testament? Is that right?"
"It is." He looked at the book in his hands with a certain amount of fondness. "The books in the New Testament were written approximately twenty-five hundred years ago, give or take several decades--there was a calendar change, I believe, that moved the birth of Christ back a few years, and a few other changes in the calendar."
"Yeah, it got changed to 6 B.C. when they switched to the Gregorian calendar--what?"
"Nothing." Book continued to look at her oddly. "Your knowledge of history seems a bit--erratic, if you hadn't noticed."
Crap. She really needed to learn to keep her mouth shut. "Er--yeah. Sorry."
"It's nothing to apologize for," Book said mildly. "It's just interesting."
Right.
"Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?"
Willow shook her head.
"Then, if you'll excuse me, I'll leave you to your workings." He gave her a smile then left, sliding the door shut behind him.
Willow leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. Five hundred years, give or take. Five hundred…damn, she was older than Angel had been. Well, not really, what with the being dead and all, but--Angel! Spike! Were they around?
Her mind took a completely different tack, which startled her. D'Hoffryn. He had to still be around. He'd been around for ten thousand years, another five hundred wouldn't have made much of a difference. Right? And why did she care? He was a freaking demon.
Demon.
Slayers.
The slayers--good God in heaven, the Watcher's Council. She berated herself for not thinking about it before. She could contact the Council. They would…help…someone who claimed to be resurrected by some random people after having been dead for five centuries. Right…maybe not the best plan, but why hadn't she considered them before? Well, okay, she knew the answer to that. The Council plus space travel equaled un-mixy things. But she had to do something other than roam aimlessly for the rest of her hopefully long life.
She wondered idly what sort of consequences had been caused by her had-to-have-been-magical resurrection as she returned to the computer and started searching for evidence of the Council. They probably wouldn't have a website, if websites as she knew them still existed, but they didn't operate in a vacuum. There would be some sign of their presence, and she was Research-Gal. Finding those little traces was her job.
Happy now that she had something to do that was at least somewhat familiar, Willow set to work searching through the Cortex for any sign that the Watcher's Council still operated. Logically, there would still be slayers, so logically there would still be a Council. Right? Right.
Another knock some time later distracted Willow from her searching, and she said more sharply than she intended, "What?"
The door slid open. Inara entered with a tray, her head cocked. "Am I interrupting something?"
"What?" Willow looked up and made a face. "Sorry. Didn't mean to snarl at you. I get really involved in what I'm doing, and then I get grouchy."
"And don't take well to being interrupted, I see," Inara said with a smile to show she hadn't taken offense. "River said you were busy and wouldn't make it to dinner."
"River said--how did she--never mind." Willow shook her head. Trying to figure that girl out was next to impossible. "Thanks for that. I hadn't realized it was dinnertime."
She took the tray as Inara glanced at the computer. "What are you looking at? Property owned by businesses?" She looked at Willow. "Seems a bit of a step from the history of Companions."
"Yeah. Got sidetracked," Willow admitted.
"Apparently," the other woman murmured. She gave Willow a speculative look, something Willow was growing accustomed to, then said, "Enjoy your dinner."
"Thanks again," Willow said absently, already looking back at the screen.
-
By the time they reached Beaumont a few days later, Willow still hadn't found any trace of the Watcher's Council on the net. She realized, as she stood on the ramp looking out over the city they had landed in, that she didn't want to leave the ship. The crew was friendly enough, or kept away from the passengers if they weren't, and she didn't feel quite as adrift in a strange world--er--universe when on board. But there was nothing for it. She said her good-byes and ambled off to explore the city. This was, if she recalled from her reading, not a Core planet but not far from being one. Definitely not a frontier planet.
"Job," she muttered to herself as she made her way through the busy streets. "Need a job. Wonder what sort of jobs are available for a twenty-first century researcher-computer hacker-witch?"
Witch. That reminded her…
With a preoccupied look on her face as she walked that would have sealed her much shortened fate on a different type of world, she took a look at her magic and was glad to see that she was stronger than she had been on the ship, less glad to see that she still wasn't at full strength. Barely half, if she was gauging it right. She sighed and wistfully remembered the feeling of ultimate power--or at least so near to ultimate power that it could be seen on a clear day--from before she had, you know, died. Holy crap, could that have messed it up? That would suck.
"Ay-lo, girlie."
"Oh God," Willow muttered. She had wandered away from the crowds, to busy to pay attention to where she was going, and now stood at the entrance to an empty dead end on an equally empty street. She turned and--yep, there stood two rough looking men. One had a knife, the other a gun. She folded her arms and sighed. "World, meet Mutt and Jeff, twenty-sixth century version."
"Just hand over the goods, see, and no one gets hurt," one growled.
"Y'know," Willow said conversationally. "I really thought people only said stuff like that because they'd seen it done. But I seriously doubt you guys get bad re-runs, so I guess it's just a part of human nature."
"Eh?"
Tweedledumb looked confused. Tweedledee just raised his gun a little and said, "Valuables. Now."
Willow considered that. "What would happen if, say, I called for the police?"
"I would shoot you," he said flatly.
"Right. Um…what if I said I didn't have any valuables?"
"I would shoot you."
"Uh huh. And if I handed over whatever I had?"
"I would shoot you."
"Right. See, your incentive program needs some work," she pointed out. "Shooting me whatever I do doesn't make it seem like a good move to cooperate, if you know what I mean."
He smiled, revealing less than proper oral hygiene. "I guess it would depend on where I'm going to shoot you, now wouldn't it?"
"Ah." Willow, her hand already dipped into her magic, metaphorically speaking at least, nodded. "Just checking."
"So you gonna cooperate?"
"No."
He squeezed the trigger on his revolver at the same instant Willow whispered, "Protego."
It was a spell she'd borrowed from Harry Potter. One thing she had discovered is that the words didn't always make as much of a difference as the intent behind them, and protego was shorter than a lot of the standard shielding spells. Not as strong, didn't last as long, but for instantaneous results, it worked. It made a sphere around her.
At least, it was supposed to.
What it was not supposed to do was turn her two attackers into bullfrogs.
With little purple polka-dots.
Er…
Willow cast a quick glance around the mostly deserted street, grabbed the gun and the knife from where they lay beside the two frogs, and hurried back towards the crowds.
She didn't see a shadow detach itself from a darker shadow and slip silently after her. It stayed back far enough that she wouldn't notice as it said into a communicator, "It looks as though there's more to his mistake than meets the eye."
-
Back among the crowds, Willow forced herself to relax. The weapons had been squirreled away for later use, if necessary. It was highly unlikely anyone would try to openly rob her in the middle of a crowded street. She was safe for now. So why didn't she feel safe?
Well, there's the fact that you're on your own, your magic's gone wonky and depleted for some reason, and you're five hundred years in the future with no knowledge of how to navigate properly or why you're here in the first place.
She wished her brain would shut up and stop offering up logical reasons.
"Miss Rosenberg."
Of course, there's that too.
There was only one person she'd given her last name to in this time. She spun around, hand up and ready, and glared at the person who stood a few yards in front of her. Amazingly enough, no one walked between them, which told Willow something about the person she now faced. What that was, she didn't know, but she had a funny feeling she didn't want to find out. "Who are you?"
"I have no name." The man smiled, almost gently, which was really creepifying. "I was sent by those who mistakenly involved you in something that you had no need to be involved in."
"Their plan for un-involving me happens to be permanent," she snapped. She was ready to turn him into a purple polka-dotted bullfrog if he made one move towards her, crowds be damned, but so far he just stood there.
"Regrettably so. However, their first inclination was somewhat…rushed, they decided. They would like to extend an offer for your participation. Willing participation."
Was he kidding? He didn't look like he was kidding.
"No," she said flatly.
"Unfortunately, that is not an answer they will accept."
He seemed to be eyeing her hand--uh oh--oh boy. There was no way he could have seen--the road had been deserted! Right? Crap. She had to get away.
"Uh--who--who do you work for?"
He smiled again, still gently. "Miss Rosenberg, I can see by your face that you already know the answer to that."
"Uh--not really. I mean, they never actually got around to introducing themselves before they tried to shuffle me loose the mortal coil, you know."
He paused, as though considering, then nodded once. "I--work--for the Union of Allied Planets."
Crap. She had suspected that, but suspicion and confirmation were two completely different things. "Why'd they bring me back?"
"Miss Rosenberg, all your questions will be answered--after you come with me."
"Uh--no I'm not." She took a step back and ran up against a wall. Damn, her luck was certainly taking a holiday, wasn't it?
He moved forward, nodding. "Yes. You are."
"Thought they wanted willing participation," Willow shot back as she eased off the wall and back away from him.
He smiled, and there was nothing gentle in it this time. "In the absence of willing participation, they will take unwilling."
That was what she'd thought. She had a plan to get away, and she hoped to whatever powers were out there that her magic did what she intended it to this time.
She cast a quick glance behind her, making sure she had somewhere to go, then turned back to the man. He had already closed half the distance between them. Startled by his rapid movement, she jumped back, shouting, "Thicken!"
He ran into the invisible wall that sprang up between them and bounced backwards. Willow thanked her lucky stars individually and by name that it had worked properly as she spun around and bolted down the street. The wall wouldn't stay up for very long, just long enough for her to take several turns and get herself lost before he could find her again. Then she would find a ship and get off this rock.
Dammit, why did excitement have to follow her around like a stray dog? All she wanted was a little peace, and quiet, and…
She felt the spell some blocks away dissolve and poured on some more speed. Time to go.
-