Exiled

Disclaimer: Owner by Joss Whedon, George Lucas and the master of this crossover, Drew Niehaus.

Notes: This is the second and last story for Year Three and sort of details the fallout from the previous section. I wanted to do something fun because something big was coming. Also, there is only one story for Year Four, which brings up the total to ten. I would love to go beyond the four years but as for it actually happening, we'll see…

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Driving Miss Summers

For all those unaccustomed to driving on the wrong side of the road, please stand up.

"I don't want to get up."

A warm arm stretched across her abdomen. "Then you don't have to get up," a sleepy voice murmured. "This is what you get for winning."

Dawn chuckled as she turned over, coming face-to-face with Zett. Though in a pair of pants borrowed from Xander and an old t-shirt, he was still her adorable Zett. "Lucky me," she smirked.

He reached over to stroke her hair. "Did you sleep okay?"

"I slept great," Dawn replied, sitting up and running a hand through her hair. "But my sleep has been all messed up since that night of so-called friendly competition."

Zett laughed as he watched Dawn pull on a robe and attempt to straighten her hair. "I don't think watching your sister get shot in the butt with an arrow was really friendly."

"The fact that it was her own sister-in-law mishandling a crossbow," Dawn sighed, turning back to Zett. "It definitely cheered Anakin up. I haven't seen him laugh that hard since before his mom died."

Zett reached over, playing with Dawn's hand. "She was Buffy's mother too, you know."

"Buffy will make a full recovery in the infirmary. I'm sure Lord Nigel has plenty to say about her team's inept failure."

"They couldn't help it," Dawn argued. "Buffy got shot, Anakin completely lost it and Faith just about went mental."

"I agree she has some work to do on Padmé, but the work in progress thing is really going well," Zett replied. "I'm not too sure about Kennedy and Tara though."

"They'll be fine," Dawn said, smiling despite the sadness she felt at watching the Witch and Slayer argue. Both had been through so much… they really were destined to be together. But sometimes their pride got in the way.

"I don't think Obi-Wan was too happy at being left behind."

Dawn glanced down, wincing. She wasn't convinced of Buffy's feelings that leaving Obi-Wan behind was the right thing to do. "He's one of the strongest Jedi. He could have come out."

"But out of respect for your sister, he stayed behind."

"I'm not really sure what's going on there, but they had a lot to work through," Dawn replied, an edge to her tone as she sat on the edge of the bed.

"You've been spending time with him?"

"With her," Dawn corrected. "She's my sister, Zett. She just lost her mother a few weeks ago. She's hurting. Anakin's hurting. And when my sister hurts, she tends to push people away. The only people she hasn't pushed away are Obi-Wan and Anakin."

"Yet, who refuses to leave her side in the infirmary?" Zett asked lightly.

"Don't expect me to read minds, Zett. I'm not that talented."

"Well, I know for sure that I'm still waiting for my prize."

"For what?"

"Our team won," Zett said playfully. "You owe me."

"Well," Dawn said, sliding into lap and wrapping her arms over his shoulders, "I've got your wager right here, Mister."

- - - - -

"I can't move."

"I have been awake for hours."

Xander forced himself to sit up, pushing aside the mountain of pillows heaped upon him. His eyes widened as he saw Aayla in her stark glory moving rhythmically in front of him. "Please tell me that's a Twi'lek thing," he whispered, awed.

"Like what you see?" she asked, continuing to move.

"If I say yes, will it cost me?" he teased.

"Always."

Xander happily rearranged his pillows and leaned on them, watching as his girlfriend continued to exercise. "Then by all means. We just have to get ready for the motor rally at seven tonight."

Aayla slid one arm in the air and slowly moved it down her body. Xander found himself unable to breathe for a moment. "Don't you think for one second you can seduce me out of it," he breathed.

"I wouldn't try. You spent good money on those tickets."

Xander felt as though his chest was compressing as she bent down, the tips of her extensions lying perfectly flat on the ground. "I… I…"

"Yes?" she asked as she slowly moved back up.

"I am not going to back out of this," Xander said, shaking his head to clear it. "Are you going to stop?"

"Must I stop my own exercises?"

"You have to or I'm going to pounce."

"I never said I had to do these alone."

"Oh." Xander felt like his chest deflated.

She glanced over her shoulder, her dark eyes appealing to him. "Care to join me, Xander?"

"Oh…"

"I have one simple rule though," she said, pushing both arms forward before moving them up.

"No… clothes…?" Xander asked breathlessly.

"I told you I'm in my time."

Xander was shaking as he stood up. He was already aching from last night's so-called adventure. If life with a Twi'lek was this exciting, he didn't know how much more his simple, human body could take!

- - - - -

Buffy slowly shifted around on her cot, thrashing loudly to get the attention of the medic. But whenever she seemed to point out her boredom, the medic would simply ignore her.

She didn't know how much more of this she could take.

"Hi, there."

Buffy turned to see a familiar face peeking at her from the doorway. Willow stepped in, eyeing the medic nervously before taking the seat occupied by Anakin only a few hours earlier. "Sleep well?"

"Wil? What are you doing here?"

"I figured you were probably bored out of your mind, so I figured I could help."

"Seeing as I have no homework for you to do—" Buffy yawned, stretching her arms in a pointed gesture while keeping an eye on the medic, who she could see was trying in vain not to watch her.

"Aside from an avalanche of paperwork from Lord Nigel," Willow pointed out.

"I gave that to Padmé."

"You are taking advantage of her simple mistake."

Buffy stopped in mid-stretch. "I never thought I'd see the day when you'd again defend your sister."

Willow let out a sad chuckle. "I guess it happens to the best of us. What did you want to do?"

"Get the hell out of here," Buffy murmured, her tone rising to a shout. "But some morons won't let me leave!"

"You have to stay until the Watchers say you can leave. As we have been unable to contact Rupert Giles or Lord Ambroise-Bellairs, we have no choice but to confine you to—"

Buffy shrieked and lobbed her water jar at the medic, who cried out and jumped out of the way. Willow just sighed and rubbed her hand over her eyes, too used to Buffy's antics and her general dislike of hospitals to really rebuke her for it.

"Because of that, Miss Summers, you can stay in here all week!"

"Oh, just piss me off, nurse boy!" Buffy shouted back. "We'll see who wins this argument. You can't really mess with me. I've got friends with power!"

"Buffy, for the love of all that is green and good, will you just relax?" Willow intervened. "My God, you sound like you're eleven again."

"He started it!" Buffy shouted out as the medic threw his hands in the air and stormed out of the infirmary. "Bloody moron."

Despite the situation, Willow couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, Buffy, some things will never change."

"And some do," Buffy replied, glancing Willow up and down. "You've been putting on weight."

"I'm surprised you've noticed," Willow said softly. "I've also helped your sister construct a two-ended lightsaber."

"Considering the last time I saw one of those things it killed my mentor, I guess I can deal," Buffy replied, leaning back in her head. "Do you want to know what I really miss? I miss going to the beach and caring nothing except whether or not my backside and front side will match when I'm done. I miss the days of going to school and actually looking forward to hanging out in the library."

"I miss those simpler times," Willow said, smiling sadly. "But when you look at it, we're about the same age Giles was when he first started out in Sunnydale."

"Don't remind me," Buffy said dramatically. "But there's one thing I've always wanted to do but I've never been able to do it."

"What's that?" Willow asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Drive," Buffy said simply. "I'm not talking about the ships, because even old Prometheus was my friend in a storm. I'm talking about an automobile, like Xander's old Volkswagen."

"Buffy, here in England they drive on the wrong side of the road and the steering wheel is on the right side."

"Do you think that concerns some of the other pilots?" Buffy asked with a laugh. "I've driven on the right before."

"Well, Buffy, while you're an accomplished pilot and you're damned good at what you do, I'm not sure I trust you completely with an automobile."

Buffy sighed and fell back against her pillows. "I'm just saying…"

But Willow wasn't about to buy it. "What did you do?"

"What?"

"I know you, Buffy," Willow said, a conspiratorial smile on her face. "What are you planning on?"

"You know that little friendly competition… well, I made a bet with Dawnie if we lost."

"But you did lose. Her team won," Willow pointed out. "She got her Slayer as promised."

"I know…"

"Yeah, and Rona has never been happier," Willow agreed. "What did she promise you?"

Buffy suddenly sat up, glancing at the door to make sure the medic wasn't coming back. "I'll tell you later. Right now, how about we play around a bit, short-sheet the beds and mix up the meds?"

Willow felt somewhat happier as she looked at the youthful spark in Buffy's eyes. She hadn't felt like that in years. She would have given anything to feel that rebellious, youthful streak again.

"You're on."

- - - - -

"Well, that was surprisingly boring," Anakin said, setting aside another paper. "If Lord Nigel hasn't been so damned accommodating, I would have thrown him to the demons myself."

"This is all Buffy's fault," Padmé groaned, staring at the stack of papers still left to go through.

"Actually, Padmé, you were the one that—"

"I know, I know," Padmé sighed. "I just hate the fact I'll probably be paying for this the rest of my career."

"Not so, my love," Anakin said, squeezing her hand as he took a few papers from the top of the stack. "She's trapped in the infirmary until Lord Nigel gets the stick out of his ass and signs her release."

"We could be nice and have someone forge the signature for her," Padmé suggested.

"Padmé!" Anakin said, his jaw dropping as he turned to his wife. "Since when have you gotten this rebellious streak? What happened to the fair, level-headed politician I married?"

"She's changed," Padmé said without glancing up from the papers. Anakin's face reflected sadness in the truth of that as he went through his own stack.

"Padmé…"

"I get it, Annie," she said, setting her pen down and looking up at him. "We've been here nearly three full years now. Our kids are teenagers now. They hardly recognized us the last time we saw them. They've changed. We've changed. And when we go back…"

Anakin felt a smile grace his features as he reached across and took his wife's hand before she could pick up her pen again. "Padmé…"

"When we go back, I want to be stronger. I was such a wreck the last time, crying about this and that, you and Willow, everything was dark and I was depressed and the babies were coming and—"

He cut her off by kissing her. It was a sweet kiss that mingled with her tears. She was blinking as he pulled away. "That was convincing," she chuckled in a watery tone.

His fingers gently stroked the tears from her cheeks. "I love what you are doing, Padmé. You've been working with Faith for the past few months trying to get your battle side back. You have never lost it. Someday we'll be fighting the Empire, together. Just you and me and Luke and Leia."

"Our family," Padmé beamed.

"Yes," Anakin said, standing up and reaching down for his wife. "Our family."

- - - - -

Dawn sighed as she walked through the crowded corridors. Since their night of friendly competition, it was now all or nothing. But when her sister had basically begged her to take her out, Dawn couldn't argue. She would much rather have wanted to stay with Zett since they were celebrating still, but Buffy was her sister and needed her.

She spied Anakin and Padmé, looking rather amused as they walked down the corridor. "Oh, were you on your way to see Buffy?"

"Yeah," Anakin said, snickering at what Buffy had told him. "They've been having fun in there."

"Who?" Dawn asked suspiciously. "Who is in there with her?"

Padmé shrugged. "I didn't go in. Anakin just gave her back all the papers she gave me."

"I bet she didn't like that."

"She's been whining about learning how to drive."

"Has she?" Dawn asked sourly. "She basically begged me to take her out. Apparently she's having a craving for some specialty chocolate and platform shoes. And here I thought us Jedi weren't supposed to be so fond of possessions."

"How terrible for her," Anakin said, his lips twitching. "It's hard to keep the shoes away from her. They are essential for any Jedi."

"Yeah, you don't have to take her on her errands. I have to drive."

"I don't think you'll have to worry about entertaining her anymore," Anakin smirked as he and Padmé passed.

Dawn, confused, turned and headed towards the infirmary. What she saw inside shocked her.

Buffy and Willow were in wheelchairs. The cots had been pushed away to the walls, allowing both women to circle their wheelchairs in the attempt to drive theirs past the other. Dawn just waited for a moment, a hand clasped over her mouth before reminding herself that this was her sister, Buffy Summers-Skywalker, the great Master Jedi and her former nemesis Willow Rosenberg, formerly Darth Traya.

Then she heard another voice over her shoulder, one of absolutely disbelief.

"What in the bleeding hell have you done to my Infirmary?"

- - - - -

The End

In year four, we deal with a few of the issues we haven't seen in awhile and look forward to the future… don't worry, the journey is almost over!