I still do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Norse mythology.

I'd like to take a moment to thank Tammin for his hard work.

The Opening Move

Sunnydale High

Willow watched guiltily as Oz struggled to get a box of animal crackers from a vending machine with his right arm in a sling. 'That's my fault. If I'd only been a little quicker,' she agonized. She had managed to deflect the bullet with a braid, but she'd wasted precious time angling the stream of hair so Oz wouldn't notice it. The end result was that the projectile had managed to graze his arm and leave a large dose of guilt in Willow.

He straightened up and noticed Willow was there. "Oh, hey! Animal cracker?" he asked as he offered her the box.

She shook her head in the negative. "No, thank you. How's your arm?"

"Suddenly painless."

"You can still play the guitar okay?"

"Oh, not well, but not worse," he tells her in a voice that makes it difficult for Willow to decide if he was joking or being serious. As they walked down the hall she noticed he was having some difficulty opening the box and felt a fresh stab of guilt. Wordless she took the box and opened it for him.

"Y'know, I never really thanked you. For thinking of my safety while you were the one that got shot." He'd interposed his body between her and the shooter before dragging them both to the floor. She hadn't really been in any danger, but Oz hadn't known that and it was the thought that counted.

"Ooo, yeah, please don't. I don't do thanks," he told her as Willow handed him the opened box. "I get all red. Have to bail. It's not pretty."

Willow smiled. "Well, then forget that thing. Especially with the part where you took a bullet for me."

Oz must have gotten uncomfortable because he started to look for a distraction. And found it in the box of animal crackers. "Oh, look! Monkey! And he has a little hat. And little pants."

"Yeah, I see!" She couldn't help but smile a little wider at his antics. 'I wonder if he's on any kind of pain meds.'

"The monkey's the only cookie animal that gets to wear clothes, you know that?" And then Oz switched subjects again. "You have the sweetest smile I've ever seen."

That brought Willow up short. 'He's flirting with me! He's interested in me!' That was a first. Maria didn't really count because Willow's rampant powers had quite a bit of say in that one. 'Figures I finally get a boy to notice me when I find out I'm actually interested in girls.'

"I wasn't aware it's an either/or proposition," Siffy remarked. Willow didn't really know how to answer it, she wasn't very knowledgeable on all this. "The real question you should ask yourself is if you like him? Or at least want to have some fun with him!" the mystical jewelry teased.

Oz wasn't aware of the by-play as he went on. "So, I'm wondering, do the other cookie animals feel sorta ripped? Like, is the hippo going, "Hey, man, where are my pants? I have my hippo dignity!"

Willow couldn't help but laugh. 'He's certainly funny.'

"And you know the monkey's just," and the guitarist switched to a fake French accent, "I mock you with my monkey pants!"

"And he's not bad on the eyes either," Siffy prompted.

'I suppose,' Willow agreed slowly. And he was really, he really did look attractive in his own way. 'Argh, this is ridiculous. I'm supposed to learn how to read other people's emotions but I can't even figure out my own! First I liked guys, then I suddenly had eyes for girls and now I'm getting interested in a boy again. What's going on?'

"So because you found out you liked chocolate ice-cream, you thought you didn't like vanilla ice-cream anymore?"

'Are you comparing people to ice cream? It can't be that simple.'

"And why not? Just like ice cream, people come in all kinds of flavors and colors. You found this new flavor that you liked, great for you. And maybe most of the flavors you like are going to be girls, could be. That doesn't exclude every flavor of guy or that you think this particular one looks tasty enough to try," Siffy ended with a purr.

'Stop it,' Willow pleaded as blood started to rush to her cheeks. 'You're starting to sound like how Buffy describes Mjöllnir acting.'

"Oh, please. Mjöllnir is just a pervert, trust me. I, on the other hand, am a hedonist!" she countered proudly. "But if it makes you feel better, we'll delve into all this during meditation tonight before we try the free sample."

"Siffy!" Willow accidentally said out loud earning her an inquisitive look from Oz. "I meant, silly! You're silly, but in a good way. So, all monkeys are French?"

***

'Aha, there she is.' Xander felt a grim sort of victory at finding the elusive Cordelia. He'd spent most of the school day looking for her but she almost seemed to be avoiding him. He could imagine the need, he wasn't looking forward to this meeting either. But when she immediately turned and walked the other way, Xander didn't just let her. Running around her, he stopped her. "We need to talk."

Cordelia didn't say anything, but while she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, she did come along into an empty classroom. He looked back and forth down the hall to make sure no one saw them going in together and then closed the door. Xander didn't want anybody to find out what happened.

For a few moments they're both quiet, standing a good distance apart while they fidgeted with their arms. "Okay, uh-uh-uh... here's the deal," Xander started. "We don't have to run every time we see each other in the hall."

"Right. Okay. Why shouldn't we run?" Cordelia asked and again, Xander understood the sentiment. But that way laid suspicion and awkward questions by his friends.

"What happened, there's a total explanation for it," he said instead.

"You're a pervert?"

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Me?"

"Yeah!" Cordelia shot back.

"No-no-no-no!" He retorted taking a step towards her. "I seem to recall I was the jumpee, my friend!" Exactly!

Cordelia now advanced towards him too "As if! You've probably been planning this for months!"

"Right, I hired a Latvian bug man to kill Buffy so I could kiss you. Because slicing up a heap of bugs right in front of you really turns you on. It's so obvious!" He obviously had to point out the obvious to this paranoid girl. "I hate to burst your bubble, but you don't inspire me to spring for a dinner over at Bucky's Fondue Hut."

"Fine! Whatever," Cordelia dismissed him and started to leave, but then she stepped back. "You know, the point is: don't try it again!"

Xander couldn't believe his ears. Hadn't he already gone over this? "I didn't try it!" Taking a deep breath, he tried to be clearer. "Forget about the bugs, okay? The memory of your lips on mine makes my blood run cold."

"If you dare breathe a word of this..." She threatened coming closer for emphasis.

"Like I want anyone to know!"

"Then it's erased!" She shrieked practically into his face.

Xander wouldn't back down now. "Never happened!"

"Good!"

"Good!" Xander repeated.

But Cordelia just had to have the last word. "Good!"

They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, and then grabbed each other in a mad, passionate kiss. 'Good thing I closed the door,' he managed to recall before his brain stopped working all together.

Silver Mound Cemetery

'Is it really that simple?' Buffy wondered again, as she patrolled the cemetery. Her mind was still spinning from Giles' explanation, half of which she hadn't gotten anyway. It had started with catalyst and after that the terms had gotten even more technical as Giles delved into some serious magical theory. At least, Buffy was pretty sure it was magical theory.

But the bottom line was that Buffy hadn't been a slayer since the Master killed her. She still had the powers of one because, well, becoming the Slayer awakened the powers and they wouldn't go back to sleep simply because you died. So maybe she could have called herself a slayer then, since it really made no difference. Or she didn't think it did, anyway. But when she died her destiny was done, over, finished. She'd been free as a bird, but she'd still gone out and fought vampires every night.

And then Mjöllnir had come along and she stopped being human altogether. 'And that's the real rub,' she concluded. 'I wasn't normal, but I was human. Now, now I don't really know what I am. No longer fated to have a short, brutal live but what does it mean when you're no longer the same species as your mom? Is she still my mother?'

"Okay, going overboard there, don't you think? You're really blowing this all up out of proportion. You're still you, just a dif-"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!" Buffy practically screamed at the end. "I'm not me, I changed. And I didn't have any say in it, nobody ever asked if I wanted this!" Breathing hard, her ears caught someone drawling the word "okay" in a soft voice. Her eyes shot to the left, catching the sight of a vampire in ratty clothes slowly backing away.

Noticing he'd been spotted, the demon turned around and started to run with Buffy hot on his heels. In moments, she'd caught up with him but instead of tackling or yanking him to a stop, she gave the vampire a shove. The extra momentum sent the bloodsucker skidding over the grass until a gravestone stopped him.

"Why do I still have to do this?" Buffy asked. The vampire had managed to scramble to his hands and knees when Buffy got to him again. "If I'm no Slayer?" Kicking him in the stomach sent him flying upwards, then she started to swing her arm in a backhanded stroke summoning Mjöllnir on the way. "No duty!"

Bones cracked and snapped as she caught the demon in the torso launching the now whimpering body up and away. This time a tree stopped the vampire's flight, but it had no strength left to even try and stand up. "No destiny," Buffy she told the vampire as she stalked to where it was lying. "Why am I still doing this?"

Finally noticing there was no fight left in the demon, Buffy finished it quickly. Mjöllnir's axe-head sliced through the vampire's neck like it was butter, turning it to dust. "Who am I?" Buffy asked the universe as she watched the dust settle into the grass.

Bilskirnir

Glowing stones illuminated a large hall of wood so ancient they looked petrified. Or perhaps they were stone to begin with and carved to resemble wood. No carpet or rugs decorated the smooth stone floor. A raised platform held a stone throne, its every surface covered in runes. On each side of the throne was a tripod holding a bowl containing a roaring fire, which had no apparent source of fuel.

In all this ancient vastness, the five figures that were present in that hall looked almost insignificant. Until one took a closer look. Three stood in front of the throne and none could be mistaken for human. The fourth stood to the side between the three and the throne and he could only be thought of as human. The last individual sat on the throne, his features hidden by a cowl except for two golden horns that jut forward before sweeping back over the figures covered head.

"They are young," the enthroned figure croaked.

"But each more than capable of defeating a young Aesir still new to his power," the human-seeming individual assured. "They have accepted the mission to prove themselves to you."

The hidden figure was silent for a moment. "I will not speak of what you already know. You now have the opportunity to make good the failures of your ancestors, my Children. I have no need for reports on failure. Succeed or die, those are your options."

The figure leaned forward, its hands propped up on the armrests. "And keep your focus on your true target. The other galdra-vél are of secondary importance. What I truly want, what shall grant you a place among the generals of my host, is Thor's legacy. Mjöllnir, and this Buffy Summers' head!"

As one, the three before the throne bowed. "It shall be done, Lord Loki," the woman in the middle said.

TO BE CONTINUED

Author's Note: In Norse mythology Bilskirnir, Old Norse for lightning-crack, is the hall of Thor. The hall is supposed to be the greatest of buildings in Asgard with 540 rooms.

Of course, in my story the mythology is simply a distorted version of how things were once upon a time. The situation has since evolved and really, where else would Loki reside if he had the choice?