As 17-year-old Willow Rosenberg sat in front of the computer in the library, she thought to herself {Love really does make you do the wacky}.
It had started out as a stupid clothes fluke-as least, that's what she and Xander had thought. It was just the rush of him seeing her in a dress and her seeing him in a tux-they had never seen each other like that before, and they had been taken by surprise. I mean, they had been best friends forever, and seeing each other look so...different, had come quite as a shock to their raging & changing hormones. The whole thing was just an accident that would happen only once.
Or so they had thought. They had continued to meet, to touch, to kiss...and at least Willow was feeling overwhelmingly guilty because she was doing all of this behind Oz's back. She had no idea what Xander was thinking, or not thinking, about Cordelia's feelings. All she knew was that she felt this amazing love and compassion for Oz, and what she felt for Xander was-well, even now, weeks after it had happened, she had still now idea about what exactly *had* happened. Her emotions were...aurggh! She couldn't even think of a word for what she was feeling for Xander.
Lust...need...want...passion...?
Was that what Xander had with Cordelia? Was that what Xander had first had for Cordelia, before it blossomed into some kind of strange and twisted like (love?)? Would Willow and Xander, if they had a relationship, turn out like Cordelia and Xander did? And what about Oz...
Oh, they couldn't have kept up the charade anyhow. Sooner or later somebody would have figure out what was going on. But did it have to be such a spectacular finish? Jeez, what did the Hellmouth's rays *not* effect in their lives? And poor Cordelia had suffered the worst...imagine being impaled like that. Willow shuddered.
For some reason, out of sheer luck, she had gotten back with Oz. Of course, things didn't turn out as planned for the night...they had turned out better. She still had her virginity and self respect, and Oz thrown in for good measure. But now things were *so damn awkward* that she had no idea how she was gonna deal.
Things were not back to being perfect, before...that thing with Xander. Oz was with her alright, but the look in his eyes...she didn't have to look too deep or far to see the pained expression of hurt and betrayal whenever he looked at her. Or the way that he was so stiff and a little bit more quiet than usual. Or how he smiled more often like he was only smiling for show. And how he didn't touch her as much. Or he had yet to say the words that she had held so dear..."I love you."
And she didn't even want to think about what was going on between her and Xander. After she and Oz had broken up, and Cordelia and him were no longer an item, they had remained friends, although things had been SO majorly awkward. And now that she was back together with Oz...
Her mother had given her odd looks, but she agreed to tell Xander whenever he called that Willow was not home, or in the shower, or studying, or out with Oz. Those were reasonable activities. Whenever Xander came knocking on her door, she ignored the knocking until he went away, or told her parents not to answer the door. She ignored Xander at schools, ate lunch solely with Oz, and pretended he didn't exist in the classes they had together. Xander had tried to confront her about this avoiding, but she had just shrugged him off, practically running down the hall to get away from him. When Buffy was brought up to talk to Willow, Willow had told her that everything was fine, and that she was just going through a "healing process," although that was a bunch of shit because it was she who had inflicted the pain, not received it.
Now she allowed herself in the library, confident that Xander was not coming because he said he had a dentist appointment. She had thought that was strange, because he already had had the "two-a-year" thing happen, but he ate so much junk food she was not at all surprised that he had to go to the dentist's more often. It was...a normal thing.
Giles was in his office, going over a new shipment that a Watcher friend of his had sent him from somewhere in Switzerland, from a town who's name Willow could not pronounce if it depended on her life. She was busy in a chat room, talking with other teens who were facing relationship problems...probably not as weird or twisted as hers, but she felt a strange kind of solace in seeing that other people were somewhat as screwed in the love department as she was.
She was busy typing her sympathy for a boy named Tim when she heard someone come up behind her. "Interesting book, Giles?" she murmured, not taking her attention off of the computer screen.
"No, not Giles. Me, Xander."
Willow was so surprised that she slammed her fingers down into the keyboard, hard enough so that she felt the pain minutes afterwards. She jumped out of the chair like it was on fire, and then backed away from the computer, pushing her shoulder-length red hair behind her ears. Then she just stood around, staring warily at Xander, and trying not to show it.
"Um, so, Xander...I thought you went to the doctor-uh, dentist! The dentist, yeah." She was wringing her hands nervously and flicking her eyes towards the front door.
"I lied," Xander said, simply and clearly. He rested his hand on the chair Willow had just evacuated. "I need to talk to you." His face and voice changed to one of hurt. "Why are you avoiding me?"
Willow bit her lip. "Um, ah, well...you know what happened. Between us. Yes, you know. You were there." She took in a deep breath. "What I, you, we, us, did...we hurt a lot of people. And I hurt Oz. And now I have him back and...I don't want him to get any ideas, or anything. Like I told you before...I need to be just for him."
Xander creased his eyebrows. "So...that means you can't talk to me. That means that you constantly have to avoid me. That you can barely be in the same *room* with me? Do you think I'm gonna just go ahead and jump your bones or something? Because I'm not thinking about that anymore, Willow. What we did...we did, and it's over." Willow opened her mouth to protest, but Xander just continued on and didn't give her a chance to speak. "So then where is he gonna get these ideas. Unless you are...look, I know that there's after effects. Of course there is. And I understand that now that you have Oz back, it's going to be a little more awkward. But *this*? Willow, we've been best friends since forever, and although this changes a lot, it certainly can't change *everything*. Everything doesn't have to change."
Willow face softened. "Xander, you don't understand. Everything does change..."
There was the sound of someone clearing their voice from behind Xander. Xander turned around while Willow stood up on tiptoe to glance over his shoulder. It was Giles, holding several book in his hands.
"Am I interrupting...anything?" Giles asked, saying each word slowly and carefully.
"No!" Willow said too soon and too loudly. She cleared her throat and looked down at the books in his hands. "Um, interesting books?" Her voice squeaked.
"Um...yes, quite." He piled the books near at the computer, bristling at actually being so close to the idiot box. "Ancient books of prophetical lore. Actually, most of these texts are a bit outdated, and most of its prophecies have already come to past. Still, there are some that have yet to be fulfilled..." He picked the top most book up, opened it, then scooted a little past Xander to hand Willow the book. "I would like you to look through some of these books, Willow, if you have time. And Xander,"-Giles briefly shot him a look-"since you are here anyway, could you help Willow look through some of these texts?"
"Sure," Xander said, sounded as enthusiastic as he always did about doing research. Giles just nodded and handed him a book, and then disappeared back into his office.
Xander sighed, and then looked at Willow, who was avoiding his glance. He sighed again, and then his eyes fell onto the computer screen.
"Relationship Problems?" he inquired about the chat. Willow's eyes widened expressively and she lurched forward, shutting the monitor off.
"Nothing," she said meekly, very, very embarrassed.
Xander as about to say something when somebody else made their entrance. The original Slayerette turned towards the double doors to greet their new visitor.
"Hi Buffy! You came just in time for research!" Xander said cheerfully, far from the actual emotion that he was feeling. Just because he wasn't getting along with Cordelia or Willow didn't mean that he had to take I out on Buffy. Dammit, he had one girl friend left, and he was gonna take care of her.
"Goody for me," Buffy said with her usual wryness. "Where's Giles? I need to talk to him."
"Right here." Giles appeared out of his door again, looking around the library as though he were searching for something along the walls. "What is it?" he asked, giving her his attention.
"It's about...a dream I had last night," Buffy said, a thought flashing through her mind. Oh, the last dream that she had had been her with Angel, with them making love...she didn't permit herself to think of the end part of the dream at all. "Um, it was pretty weird, so I figured that was right up your alley. No?"
"Oh, yes, well, come right into the office," he said, glancing over at Willow and Xander. They turned back to their books, Xander flipping just too earnestly to actually mean it. Willow shot him a look when he wasn't looking, thinking about the conversation they had just had. Everything did have to change.
Muffled voices came from the office, but Xander ignored them as he squinted at a word on the page before him. "Hey, this may be just because I'm really hungry, but does this word say "taco?" The text he pointed to was written in some ancient language.
Willow took a moment to decided whether she was going to pay attention to him or not, and then decided she was. She peered over his arm and at the book, noticing that it did say taco. Then she looked at the bottom of the page, where a key was that more or less told you how to pronounce the language, if not tell you what it means. "It does say taco, but the key says that the 'o' is pronounced like the vowel 'u' in this language. So it's really saying 'tacu' instead of 'taco.'"
"Oh," Xander said, shrugging. Willow went back to her page as Xander continued studying the page.
When she turned around again, she could see him whispering some of the words on the page softly. "Don't do that!" she said suddenly, slapping his hand. He looked up at her, startled. "For all you know, you could be reading a spell! That you do not know what it does! Read in your head!"
{Fine} Xander thought, a little bit tensely. All week she acts like a bitch (well, kinda) and now that they were talking again, she was being harsh. "Fine," he said aloud, turning back to the book and reading loudly in his head.
Of course, what Xander didn't know and what Willow *should've* known that even a spell read loudly in the head of the spellcaster, willingly or unknowingly, still pretty much damn worked.
"So...I was standing at the foot of my bed, staring down at me. I was sleeping really soundly, and at first I thought I was having one of those out-of-body experience thingies, but then I noticed that something was wrong. I was staring at myself in the face, and my body was lying down on the bed, so I was pretty short. Mom just put in a floor-length mirror, so I rushed over there to check out what had happened to me. And what stared *back* at me was a little girl, about six or so years old. She had long brown hair and these really dark green eyes, like the cover of that book over there."
Buffy pointed at a small Watcher Diary that was sitting on the corner of Giles' desk, showing him the color of the girl's eyes. She leaned forward in the rolling office chair that she was sitting backwards in, a new chair that replaced the old one Giles used to have. He had complained forever that the chair fell over, so Snyder finally got him a new one, although it came out of his paycheck."
So anyway, I'm staring at myself, and then the image kinda fades away and then I see my normal reflection in the mirror. I turn back to my bed, and try to get back into my body, but the little girl is lying in my bed staring back at me. Staring at me with those weird green eyes of hers. And the covers of my bed keep changing from their regular peach to this really pretty shade of lavender. Then I walk over and ask what her name is. And then she says 'I'm not suppose to talk to strangers.' And then I wake up."
Giles made a "hmm" noise as he thought about Buffy's dream. "Well, it may be prophetic," he told her, not an unusually dissection on her nightly dreams. "You are the Slayer, after all. Actually, Xander and Willow are researching some volumes that may be able to tell you what the dreams are about, whether it is a minor or major prophecy..." Giles was drifting off into Gilesdom, his little land of book and researching and lore. S land that was hard to get him back from.
"Woo-hoo, Giles, back to Earth," Buffy said, waving her hand in front of his face. Giles blinked, and then stared back at Buffy, this time her face registering.
"Hmm, alright. Lets go research some of those book for ourselves." Giles stood up and walked to the door, waiting for Buffy to join him. Then he held the door courteously open for her, a gesture that did not go unnoticed. There was a special bond between Watcher and Slayer, and ltitle things like that really did make the world go round. Now only if Buffy would be a more thoughtful Slayer...Giles held doors open for her, and Buffy had sex with her vampire boyfriend so that he turned into a vicious killer who went and killed Giles' girlfriend and tortured him. Not good.
Willow was busy reading, again, when she felt a soft shiver go throughout her whole body, originated somewhere between her belly and her chest, then crawl up her spine, and the enter the back of her mind. The feeling was somewhat chilling, still very enjoyable. Willow creased her eyebrows in frustration. Where was...
"WHO'S USING MAGIC?" Willow demanded, her tone much louder than she had mean it to be. She whirled around, and then noticed Xander still holding the book open, eyes darting from line to line and his lips moved softly, not making a sound.
Willow reached out and knocked the book out of his Xander, causing Xander to jump and then look at, caught off-guard. "What are you doing!" she shouted, this time her voice in check. Xander, who didn't really know what he was doing (poor boy) just shrugged and said, "What?"
Willow glared at him, and then bent over, grabbing the book from where it had landed on the floor, still open the page where Xander had been reading from. She quickly looked it over. If Xander had indeed cast a spell, surely there would be some indication of what exactly he had done...
After the vampire scare, Xander had been afraid to go, much let the children out. He had gathered the whole family in the living room, and then spoke secretly to Cordelia while Julie and Josh had tried to listen it. Then, Xander had proposed that they stay in the house for the rest of they day, since it was the safest place that he could think of.
"Brain-trust, Xander," Cordelia had told him gently, in her own version of gently. At least she had become slightly more caring over the years. "It's daylight outside. The vampires can't possibly get us." She then had waited quietly as Xander once again steered Julie and Josh back to the couch where their older stepbrother was waiting patiently and their younger half-sister was busy painting herself and the couch with her lollipop. "Besides, it's the 21st. Almost Christmas. We've got presents to buy and things to do. We just can't drop it because you're afraid vampires are going to magically appear in the sunlight. I promise, we'll be home a good hour before sunset, and pick up Nicholas from his violin lesson. And Julie and Josh from their soccer game. And Annie from Natalie's house."
Xander had given her a wary look, but then gave in. They had breakfast, drove the kids to their respected places, and then took the subway to Fifth Avenue, right to the place where Cordelia had ended her torture yesterday.
"Ooh, look at that dress!" Cordelia squealed for the fiftieth time that morning, tugging on Xander's arm, since his hands were full of packages and bags. Amazing that such young children could think of so many things that they wanted for Christmas.
"Buy me that for Christmas?' Cordelia sighed, walking up to the window. She touched the glass lovingly as she imagined that she was touching the ice blue, slinky, sleeveless dress that was hanging on a display mannequin just inside. "Ooh, will you Xander?" She turned towards him, her eyes begging. It almost wanted to make him break out in laughter, although he knew that it would be rude. Women. Definitely the weaker of the sexes.
"Sure, honey," he told her sincerely, coming up and with his free hand, caressing her right arm. She smiled warmly at him, liking his touch and the little PDA. "But that would mean we either a) return most of the kid's presents or b) narrow down your lists of 'All I Want For Christmas', because it's definitely just not teeth."
Cordelia laughed, and then gave his a quick pop kiss on the mouth, and then walked down the street ahead of him, swinging her hips the way he liked it. "I guess we'll have to get rid of those toys I wanted..." she said a bit wistfully.
"Hey, wait, I thought those were on my list!" Xander said jokingly, coming up behind her. He grabbed her in a hug, and soon they were surrounded by a little circle of packages and very close to each others faces. The other New Yorkers around them wasted no time in passing by them quickly, or stopping to stare at the two people so obviously in love.
"Xander, you are such...aurggh," she teased, reaching up to grab the collar of his jacket. She tugged playfully on it and then set to buttoning the top button. She was close enough to feel his heart increase in it's rate of beating. Men. Definitely the weaker sex. "Such a complete idiot!"
"I'm not a complete idiot," Xander protested, watching his wife do her little wife-y thing. "I have a few missing parts."
Cordelia laughed again. "Don't I know it." That made Xander laugh along, though he was interrupted when Cordelia leaned in for another kiss, one that lasted a bit longer than the first.
When she pulled away, Xander whispered, "People are staring."
"You're eyes were open?" she admonished.
"I like looking at you, even when we kiss. I can't take my eyes off of you."
{Oh, how romantic}. She was melting. Cordelia whirled out of his embrace, something very hard to do on Fifth Street, 5 days away from Christmas. She smiled, her dimples showing, and held out her hand. Xander grasped hold of hers, running his fingers over her knuckles and over the wedding ring, the one identical to the one he wore on his own ring finger. They huddled close, because of the cold and the crowd and something more, and they continued walking.
That was when Xander ran into the wall.
"Shit!" Xander swore loudly as he felt his noise connect with the wall. He closed his eyes and grasped his nose, trying to see if he had broken anything or if blood was coming out. When the hell was there a wall in the middle of Fifth Street's sidewalk?
As the pain subsided, Xander opened his eyes to find out where the wall had sprung from. Then he noticed that he noticed that he wasn't on Fifth Street anymore.
"Shi..." he started, but ended up trailing off. His eyes roamed up the wall, and as he stepped back, his eyes continued to rove over the double doors. "Where the..."
Then he turned around, and saw a sight he'd thought he'd never, *ever* see.
"Holy hell," he murmured, as he looked into the very frightened face of his younger self.
After Willow had begun to urgently read through the book, Buffy and Giles had come up behind Xander, asking what had happened. Xander had gotten flushed and said that he might had made a boo-boo. Giles, more than a little upset, yanked the book out of Willow's hands and set to deciphering what the heck Xander had done.
A few seconds later, Buffy had whispered urgently to the other three, "Hey, who's that?"
They all stared at the stranger who had appeared out of nowhere, and then Xander had gotten the oddest feeling. He found himself walking, his feet like lead, to where the stranger was. Imagine his shock and surprise when the stranger turned around, and he found himself looking into an extremely familiar, but quite different, face.
"Xander, what did you do *now*?" came the exasperated female voices from across the room.
The two Xander's turned to look at the girls, the same exact things on their minds.
After Faith's surprise entrance ("Afraid of the competition, eh?") she had jumped onto the leather couch and practically melted in with her surroundings. Dressed in matching black leather, she was also wearing tons of silver jewelry, and she showed lots of skin. Even after her twenties, Faith could still pull the Goth thing off and look totally gorgeous. Of course, Buffy knew how she kept in shape.
Buffy had sat down in the loveseat directly across from the couch, after coming back with more cocoa for herself and Faith. Faith didn't seem a bit cold; you worked a lot in the rain, being a Slayer, and your body grew stronger and more immune with every passing night. Buffy, though, was chilled by the subject matter at hand.
"Prophecy?" she had asked, her voice barely audible.
"Um, yeah," Faith had said. Then she had yawned, something she clearly wasn't planning on doing, because she clapped a hand over her mouth in surprise. "My Watcher—my last Watcher, anyway—told me something disturbing before I, ah, got rid of her. She was really into the book-learning thing—such a turn-off—but the women did have something useful to say."
"Like what?" Buffy had urged, wanting to get everything over with. The last time she and Faith had ever spoken, or seen each other, was not under good terms. In fact, the terms were as far from good and they could get. Faith, though, was not acting openly hostile, much like Buffy remembered her to be. Always.
Faith had inhaled deeply. God, this cocoa smelled good. Not like the instant coffee she had so grown tired of when she was on the road, and she was on the road a lot. {The story of my life}. "Like—"
She was interrupted by the faint, childish wail of "Mother!" that came from upstairs. Faith looked at Buffy, raising her eyebrows. "I better go check on her," Buffy had said, getting up. Faith, although she had to personal contact with Buffy, knew every little intimate detail about her life. Entertainment Weekly and People would make a stalker proud. So, as Buffy raced up the marble steps, Faith understood.
In a way. She, herself, had never been able to experience the joys of living in a house she actually owned, much less one this big. Or falling asleep in a bed that didn't change every week or so, next to a man who also didn't change every week or so, or to a man at all. And having a daughter...it must be a female thing, because even though Faith hated to admit it, she ached for the children she could never have. {Buffy, that bitch...} she had thought, clenching her fists in fury. She practically shook with long-repressed anger. {I can't believe I'm talking to her. I can't believe I'm sitting on her couch. I can't believe I've stooped to getting help from that traitorous runaway}.
Upstairs, Buffy had pushed the door open to her daughter's bedroom and stood in the shadows of the doorway. Elisabeth Sarah was sitting up in bed, her face not so sleepy anymore, and nervously clutching the bedspread. Buffy strode across the living room and plopped down next to Es.
"Another nightmare, sweetheart?" she had asked her, afraid of the answer that she would get. She put a comforting arm around her daughter and drew her into her lap. Elisabeth Sarah snuggled closer to her mother and rested her head on her chest. Buffy rested hers on her daughter's head, wrapping her arms tight around the little bundle of love.
"Yes," Elisabeth Sarah had said in a small voice, afraid of admitting the truth. She buried her face in her mother's t-shirt.
Jonah knew nothing of Elisabeth Sarah's "nightmares." Once Buffy had found out, she had been vaguely frightened that it would develop into a running theme, that sooner or later these prophetic dreams of her daughter's would lead to the conclusion that Es was a Slayer. The discovery that Es was turning out to be a very meek little girly-girl strayed far from that conclusion, and since Buffy was still alive (and as she had just found out, so was Faith), it seemed highly unlikely that Elisabeth Sarah was going to be a Slayer.
Still, Es' clairvoyance bordered very much on the paranormal and strange. Come to think of it, it was just plain paranormal and strange. She did not want Jonah involved in any of those happenings. She did not want Jonah to become a "Slayerette" of sorts. Consequences would be too severe.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Buffy had whispered, and she felt Elisabeth Sarah relax in her arms.
"I'd like to," Es had murmured, pulling her face out of her Mom's t-shirt and sitting far back enough so that she could look her mother in the face. "It was weird.
I was lying in my bed, and then I was in another bed, another nursery. And there was this pretty lady looking down at me, and she asked my name. I said I wasn't suppose to talk to strangers...I'm not, Mommy. Daddy told me so. So I didn't. And then I woke up...I don't know who's the pretty lady. Do you know?"
Buffy had paused to think carefully, to put on a show for Es, but inside she had been bubbling with happiness. This didn't sound like one of Es' prophetic dreams; just something very regular. For all they knew, the lady Es dreamed of could have been anyone: ranging from a character made up from Es' subconscious to a lady of the supermarket that said something vaguely of interest to Es and it stayed in her mind.
Just a regular kid.
Buffy sighed.
"I think I saw the lady at the supermarket," Buffy had told her gently, and Es had closed her eyes and smiled. Buffy wasn't the only one relieved that this wasn't some vision of portent. Back when the earthquake happened...Es couldn't sleep for nights before. All those terrible visions, and when she was awake too.
She remembered three years ago, sitting at the lunch table, feeding Es some leftover pizza from last night, and the toddler was happily gnawing on the crust, ingesting more saliva than bread. Buffy was heating up some slices for herself in the microoven, when Es suddenly started to cry. Buffy rushed to her side, reached out for her daughter's hand, and asked what was wrong. In between sobs, Es choked out the words "Mr. Harlen! Mr. Harlen! Oh Mommy, don't let him go!"
Mr. Harlen was a man somewhere in his early 60's who had offered to fix a leak in the Daly house. Jonah had agreed, a contrast to his usual "I'm a man, I can do it" behavior, because he would be staying at work late. Jonah had ended up coming home early and gone to bed, but that was besides the point. Mr. Harlen had been up there went the earth began to shake. Buffy had gone outside and crawled up the tree besides the house, trying to rescue him. He had fallen off the roof, but Buffy was there just in time to grab his hand. She had a good grip...but then the tree had fallen over. She buckled herself in the right position to land without breaking any important bone, slightly awkward because she was holding on to Mr. Harlen. And then, she had let go, and the last thing she had heard from him when he was alive was his screams as the tree collapsed over him.
Es could be eerily accurate.
"I'm tired, Mommy," Elisabeth Sarah had said, yawning. She pulled away from her Mommy and crawled over to her pillow, diving under the covers. "Tuck me in," she giggled childishly.
Buffy had laughed and shifted her position so that now she was beside Es. She kissed her daughter on the forehead and pulled the covers up to her chin, careful to keep Es' hands over the covers. Then she had picked up Mr. Gordo and a stuff monkey called Ms. Jumbles and place them on alternate sides of her daughter. Es had smiled contently.
"Night-night, Mommy," she had whispered, her eyelids already heavy with sleeps.
"Sweet dreams," Buffy repeated from earlier that night. And as she stood up to leave the room, she realized that she really meant it. For everyone's sake.
Now Buffy stood in front of the couch, watching the deep, even breaths of Faith. Fallen right asleep while Buffy had gone upstairs to check on her daughter. Buffy wondered for a moment if it was all a trick. Faith had always seemed to be on the road, even before Buffy had left Sunnydale again, and she might have just wanted a place to stay for the night.
But no, Faith would have come right out and demanded it. She wouldn't have lied about a prophecy to get in.
Would she? Buffy didn't know. She didn't know anything anymore...and that lack of knowledge really bothered her.
She heard a padded behind her on the carpet, and then heavy breathing. She smiled, and turned around, dropping to her knees.
"Hey Giles," she said affectionately, grabbing Giles in a big bear hug.
The golden retriever panted happily, and licked Buffy's face with his large, rough, red tongue. "Ew, doggy kisses," Buffy laughed, rubbing the top of Giles' shaggy blond head. Then she closed her eyes and kissed the dog on her nose. "You know just how to cheer me up, Giles."
She could've sworn the dog grinned. But instead, Giles opened his mouth to bark, but Buffy grabbed his snout and pointed over to Faith.
"Sleeping," she told the dog, who had grown to know the meaning after the nights she had trained to be quiet around Es, who as a baby started to cry in fear whenever Giles barked at her. "Ssh."
The dog looked back at Buffy, nodding his head sagely. The gesture was so human that Buffy smiled again. This dog had been around people for too long.
Sometimes he reminded her of the real thing.
"I'm not asleep," came the voice of Faith. Buffy turned around again, and saw Faith lifting her head off the leather couch. "You named the dog after your Watcher?" she said groggily, a faint smile on her face.
Buffy blushed. "Uh...yes," she admitted, feeling a bit foolish. She put one arm around her dogs back and began to carefully run her hand over. Giles lay down, enjoying the feeling, and put his head on his front paws. He looked straight at Faith with that knowledgeable expression, blinking his big brown eyes.
"I named a beagle after Xander once," Faith said, drifting off to nappy land again. She allowed herself a yawn. "It was a stupid dog. Damned horny, too."
Buffy giggled. "Sounds like the Xander I remember."
Faith didn't answer, because she was already snoring. Buffy cast a glance at her dog and raised an eyebrow. "Think we should do the same?"
Giles snuffed heavily through his nose. His ear flicked back and Buffy took that s a sign of his distress.
"Sorry Giles, reports of ancient prophecies are to be held off tomorrow due to sleepage," she told the dog. "Now how 'bout you and me snoozing a bit ourselves?"
Giles snorted and quickly rose up to his feet, tail wagging and tug hanging out of his mind. "That a yes?" Buffy asked, rising up to her feet, grabbing the arm of the couch to steady herself.
"Mommy?"
Buffy whirled around, nerves taught—jeez, what the hell else was gonna present itself tonight?—when she realized it was only Es, standing at the stairs, holding the railing with one tiny hand. The large, lavender nightie seemed awfully big on her, and she seemed like the whisp of a ghost. She was so pale...she hadn't gone out much, lately.
"What is it, Es?" Buffy asked for the fiftieth time that night, as Es climbed down the remaining steps and down into the living room, lost in the carpet. She walked over to where her Mom was and stood before her, her bottom lip jutting out just slightly.
"Can I sleep with Giles tonight?" Es asked, looking at the dog. Giles, happy as ever to see her, quickly bounded up to her and licked her hand. Es allowed herself a tiny smile on her perfectly full lips.
"You'll have to ask Giles," Buffy said. "And it seems to me like he totally agrees with you."
Giles yipped softly, and nodded his head emphatically. Es smiled and patted her dog around the folds of his neck. Then she looked past Buffy, to the strange woman who was splayed out on the couch, snoring softly. "Mommy, who's that?"
Buffy turned to meet her gaze, and then swallowed the lump in her throat. How was she gonna explain Faith to Es? How was she gonna explain Faith to *Jonah*. {Think, Buffy, think. A mind is a terrible thing to waste}. "She's a friend of Mommy's. She's sleeping over here...because she needs a place to stay for the night." She took Es' hand. "Maybe when she wakes up, you can talk and play with her." Yeah right. Buffy did not want any of Faith's "personality" to rub off on her daughter.
"Oh," Es said, letting her gaze drift over to the coffee table. She seemed slightly worried.
"Es?" Buffy asked, prodding gently. "Is that the lady you had a dream about?"
"No," Es said quickly and flatly. Buffy was relieved, until Es let go of Buffy's hand and pointed at a picture frame on the coffee table. "*That's* the lady from my dream."
Buffy looked to where she was pointing, and quickly drew in her breath. It was a picture of her, taken outside the old house in Sunnydale. Her mother had taken the photo, a month or so before graduation. The graduation Buffy had never showed up for.
"Um..." Buffy was at a total loss for words. What did *this* mean?
Xander watched as the vaguely familiar stranger open his eyes wide and drop the bags that he was carrying. There was the sound of glass breaking, and then the stranger winced, muttering something about a carousel. Then the man lifted one hand up, reaching out to Xander's face as though he was going to touch him to see if he was real, and then drew his hand back sharply. He backed away, up to the wall, looking at the library setting around him. He looked at the people in the back, and as his eyes settled on Giles all the color drained from his face. A colorful string of swear words erupted from his mouth.
Then there was silence. Nobody seemed sure of what to do. Then the man, leaving the bags and much of his sanity behind, walked right up to the computer and peered at the others.
Buffy was getting a little nervous, and the way that this man was staring at her was making her more nervous. "Hey," she snapped, "what're you looking at?" Actually...besides the fact this man might not even *be* a man, what with him appearing out of thin air, but he was rather good-looking, what with those muscles and that chest and...yummy. Even though he was way too old for her.
The man blinked, and then tried to get his mouth working again. "What date is this?" he asked, his voice cracking like a teen-agers. Then he cleared his throat and asked a bit more forcefully, "What date is today?"
Buffy was still staring/glaring at the man, Willow wasn't the world's greatest speaker, Xander was just joining the, so it was Giles' responsibility to answer. "Um, today is the 21st. Of December," he quickly added.
The man rolled his eyes. "I mean, what *year*," he asked.
"Year?" Willow's asked, her voice up in the high decibels.
"1998," Buffy said quickly, filling him in. "Or, at least, until next week. I think"
The man took this information in, looking down at the ground and his eyes growing a bit darker. Then he looked up and saying the following very slowly and very carefully, as though he did not believe that he himself knew what he was saying:
"Now, none of you are going to believe this." A pause. "OK, maybe you will, living on the Hellmouth and all." Another beat. "My name is Alexander Harris. I'm 32 years old, and just a few seconds ago, I was walking down the streets of New York, Christmas shopping with my wife. In the year 2013. So if any of have any ideas about how the hell I just went back 15 or so years in time, I'd be open to hearing them."
The whole group just stared at him, wide-eyed. Then Giles cleared his throat again.
"Xander," he said, staring at the young one. Both turned to look at them, faces drawn tight in fear and confusion. "I'm afraid that you've messed with something quite powerful."
"What's new," said the older Xander, shooting a glare at his younger self.
It had started out as a stupid clothes fluke-as least, that's what she and Xander had thought. It was just the rush of him seeing her in a dress and her seeing him in a tux-they had never seen each other like that before, and they had been taken by surprise. I mean, they had been best friends forever, and seeing each other look so...different, had come quite as a shock to their raging & changing hormones. The whole thing was just an accident that would happen only once.
Or so they had thought. They had continued to meet, to touch, to kiss...and at least Willow was feeling overwhelmingly guilty because she was doing all of this behind Oz's back. She had no idea what Xander was thinking, or not thinking, about Cordelia's feelings. All she knew was that she felt this amazing love and compassion for Oz, and what she felt for Xander was-well, even now, weeks after it had happened, she had still now idea about what exactly *had* happened. Her emotions were...aurggh! She couldn't even think of a word for what she was feeling for Xander.
Lust...need...want...passion...?
Was that what Xander had with Cordelia? Was that what Xander had first had for Cordelia, before it blossomed into some kind of strange and twisted like (love?)? Would Willow and Xander, if they had a relationship, turn out like Cordelia and Xander did? And what about Oz...
Oh, they couldn't have kept up the charade anyhow. Sooner or later somebody would have figure out what was going on. But did it have to be such a spectacular finish? Jeez, what did the Hellmouth's rays *not* effect in their lives? And poor Cordelia had suffered the worst...imagine being impaled like that. Willow shuddered.
For some reason, out of sheer luck, she had gotten back with Oz. Of course, things didn't turn out as planned for the night...they had turned out better. She still had her virginity and self respect, and Oz thrown in for good measure. But now things were *so damn awkward* that she had no idea how she was gonna deal.
Things were not back to being perfect, before...that thing with Xander. Oz was with her alright, but the look in his eyes...she didn't have to look too deep or far to see the pained expression of hurt and betrayal whenever he looked at her. Or the way that he was so stiff and a little bit more quiet than usual. Or how he smiled more often like he was only smiling for show. And how he didn't touch her as much. Or he had yet to say the words that she had held so dear..."I love you."
And she didn't even want to think about what was going on between her and Xander. After she and Oz had broken up, and Cordelia and him were no longer an item, they had remained friends, although things had been SO majorly awkward. And now that she was back together with Oz...
Her mother had given her odd looks, but she agreed to tell Xander whenever he called that Willow was not home, or in the shower, or studying, or out with Oz. Those were reasonable activities. Whenever Xander came knocking on her door, she ignored the knocking until he went away, or told her parents not to answer the door. She ignored Xander at schools, ate lunch solely with Oz, and pretended he didn't exist in the classes they had together. Xander had tried to confront her about this avoiding, but she had just shrugged him off, practically running down the hall to get away from him. When Buffy was brought up to talk to Willow, Willow had told her that everything was fine, and that she was just going through a "healing process," although that was a bunch of shit because it was she who had inflicted the pain, not received it.
Now she allowed herself in the library, confident that Xander was not coming because he said he had a dentist appointment. She had thought that was strange, because he already had had the "two-a-year" thing happen, but he ate so much junk food she was not at all surprised that he had to go to the dentist's more often. It was...a normal thing.
Giles was in his office, going over a new shipment that a Watcher friend of his had sent him from somewhere in Switzerland, from a town who's name Willow could not pronounce if it depended on her life. She was busy in a chat room, talking with other teens who were facing relationship problems...probably not as weird or twisted as hers, but she felt a strange kind of solace in seeing that other people were somewhat as screwed in the love department as she was.
She was busy typing her sympathy for a boy named Tim when she heard someone come up behind her. "Interesting book, Giles?" she murmured, not taking her attention off of the computer screen.
"No, not Giles. Me, Xander."
Willow was so surprised that she slammed her fingers down into the keyboard, hard enough so that she felt the pain minutes afterwards. She jumped out of the chair like it was on fire, and then backed away from the computer, pushing her shoulder-length red hair behind her ears. Then she just stood around, staring warily at Xander, and trying not to show it.
"Um, so, Xander...I thought you went to the doctor-uh, dentist! The dentist, yeah." She was wringing her hands nervously and flicking her eyes towards the front door.
"I lied," Xander said, simply and clearly. He rested his hand on the chair Willow had just evacuated. "I need to talk to you." His face and voice changed to one of hurt. "Why are you avoiding me?"
Willow bit her lip. "Um, ah, well...you know what happened. Between us. Yes, you know. You were there." She took in a deep breath. "What I, you, we, us, did...we hurt a lot of people. And I hurt Oz. And now I have him back and...I don't want him to get any ideas, or anything. Like I told you before...I need to be just for him."
Xander creased his eyebrows. "So...that means you can't talk to me. That means that you constantly have to avoid me. That you can barely be in the same *room* with me? Do you think I'm gonna just go ahead and jump your bones or something? Because I'm not thinking about that anymore, Willow. What we did...we did, and it's over." Willow opened her mouth to protest, but Xander just continued on and didn't give her a chance to speak. "So then where is he gonna get these ideas. Unless you are...look, I know that there's after effects. Of course there is. And I understand that now that you have Oz back, it's going to be a little more awkward. But *this*? Willow, we've been best friends since forever, and although this changes a lot, it certainly can't change *everything*. Everything doesn't have to change."
Willow face softened. "Xander, you don't understand. Everything does change..."
There was the sound of someone clearing their voice from behind Xander. Xander turned around while Willow stood up on tiptoe to glance over his shoulder. It was Giles, holding several book in his hands.
"Am I interrupting...anything?" Giles asked, saying each word slowly and carefully.
"No!" Willow said too soon and too loudly. She cleared her throat and looked down at the books in his hands. "Um, interesting books?" Her voice squeaked.
"Um...yes, quite." He piled the books near at the computer, bristling at actually being so close to the idiot box. "Ancient books of prophetical lore. Actually, most of these texts are a bit outdated, and most of its prophecies have already come to past. Still, there are some that have yet to be fulfilled..." He picked the top most book up, opened it, then scooted a little past Xander to hand Willow the book. "I would like you to look through some of these books, Willow, if you have time. And Xander,"-Giles briefly shot him a look-"since you are here anyway, could you help Willow look through some of these texts?"
"Sure," Xander said, sounded as enthusiastic as he always did about doing research. Giles just nodded and handed him a book, and then disappeared back into his office.
Xander sighed, and then looked at Willow, who was avoiding his glance. He sighed again, and then his eyes fell onto the computer screen.
"Relationship Problems?" he inquired about the chat. Willow's eyes widened expressively and she lurched forward, shutting the monitor off.
"Nothing," she said meekly, very, very embarrassed.
Xander as about to say something when somebody else made their entrance. The original Slayerette turned towards the double doors to greet their new visitor.
"Hi Buffy! You came just in time for research!" Xander said cheerfully, far from the actual emotion that he was feeling. Just because he wasn't getting along with Cordelia or Willow didn't mean that he had to take I out on Buffy. Dammit, he had one girl friend left, and he was gonna take care of her.
"Goody for me," Buffy said with her usual wryness. "Where's Giles? I need to talk to him."
"Right here." Giles appeared out of his door again, looking around the library as though he were searching for something along the walls. "What is it?" he asked, giving her his attention.
"It's about...a dream I had last night," Buffy said, a thought flashing through her mind. Oh, the last dream that she had had been her with Angel, with them making love...she didn't permit herself to think of the end part of the dream at all. "Um, it was pretty weird, so I figured that was right up your alley. No?"
"Oh, yes, well, come right into the office," he said, glancing over at Willow and Xander. They turned back to their books, Xander flipping just too earnestly to actually mean it. Willow shot him a look when he wasn't looking, thinking about the conversation they had just had. Everything did have to change.
Muffled voices came from the office, but Xander ignored them as he squinted at a word on the page before him. "Hey, this may be just because I'm really hungry, but does this word say "taco?" The text he pointed to was written in some ancient language.
Willow took a moment to decided whether she was going to pay attention to him or not, and then decided she was. She peered over his arm and at the book, noticing that it did say taco. Then she looked at the bottom of the page, where a key was that more or less told you how to pronounce the language, if not tell you what it means. "It does say taco, but the key says that the 'o' is pronounced like the vowel 'u' in this language. So it's really saying 'tacu' instead of 'taco.'"
"Oh," Xander said, shrugging. Willow went back to her page as Xander continued studying the page.
When she turned around again, she could see him whispering some of the words on the page softly. "Don't do that!" she said suddenly, slapping his hand. He looked up at her, startled. "For all you know, you could be reading a spell! That you do not know what it does! Read in your head!"
{Fine} Xander thought, a little bit tensely. All week she acts like a bitch (well, kinda) and now that they were talking again, she was being harsh. "Fine," he said aloud, turning back to the book and reading loudly in his head.
Of course, what Xander didn't know and what Willow *should've* known that even a spell read loudly in the head of the spellcaster, willingly or unknowingly, still pretty much damn worked.
"So...I was standing at the foot of my bed, staring down at me. I was sleeping really soundly, and at first I thought I was having one of those out-of-body experience thingies, but then I noticed that something was wrong. I was staring at myself in the face, and my body was lying down on the bed, so I was pretty short. Mom just put in a floor-length mirror, so I rushed over there to check out what had happened to me. And what stared *back* at me was a little girl, about six or so years old. She had long brown hair and these really dark green eyes, like the cover of that book over there."
Buffy pointed at a small Watcher Diary that was sitting on the corner of Giles' desk, showing him the color of the girl's eyes. She leaned forward in the rolling office chair that she was sitting backwards in, a new chair that replaced the old one Giles used to have. He had complained forever that the chair fell over, so Snyder finally got him a new one, although it came out of his paycheck."
So anyway, I'm staring at myself, and then the image kinda fades away and then I see my normal reflection in the mirror. I turn back to my bed, and try to get back into my body, but the little girl is lying in my bed staring back at me. Staring at me with those weird green eyes of hers. And the covers of my bed keep changing from their regular peach to this really pretty shade of lavender. Then I walk over and ask what her name is. And then she says 'I'm not suppose to talk to strangers.' And then I wake up."
Giles made a "hmm" noise as he thought about Buffy's dream. "Well, it may be prophetic," he told her, not an unusually dissection on her nightly dreams. "You are the Slayer, after all. Actually, Xander and Willow are researching some volumes that may be able to tell you what the dreams are about, whether it is a minor or major prophecy..." Giles was drifting off into Gilesdom, his little land of book and researching and lore. S land that was hard to get him back from.
"Woo-hoo, Giles, back to Earth," Buffy said, waving her hand in front of his face. Giles blinked, and then stared back at Buffy, this time her face registering.
"Hmm, alright. Lets go research some of those book for ourselves." Giles stood up and walked to the door, waiting for Buffy to join him. Then he held the door courteously open for her, a gesture that did not go unnoticed. There was a special bond between Watcher and Slayer, and ltitle things like that really did make the world go round. Now only if Buffy would be a more thoughtful Slayer...Giles held doors open for her, and Buffy had sex with her vampire boyfriend so that he turned into a vicious killer who went and killed Giles' girlfriend and tortured him. Not good.
Willow was busy reading, again, when she felt a soft shiver go throughout her whole body, originated somewhere between her belly and her chest, then crawl up her spine, and the enter the back of her mind. The feeling was somewhat chilling, still very enjoyable. Willow creased her eyebrows in frustration. Where was...
"WHO'S USING MAGIC?" Willow demanded, her tone much louder than she had mean it to be. She whirled around, and then noticed Xander still holding the book open, eyes darting from line to line and his lips moved softly, not making a sound.
Willow reached out and knocked the book out of his Xander, causing Xander to jump and then look at, caught off-guard. "What are you doing!" she shouted, this time her voice in check. Xander, who didn't really know what he was doing (poor boy) just shrugged and said, "What?"
Willow glared at him, and then bent over, grabbing the book from where it had landed on the floor, still open the page where Xander had been reading from. She quickly looked it over. If Xander had indeed cast a spell, surely there would be some indication of what exactly he had done...
After the vampire scare, Xander had been afraid to go, much let the children out. He had gathered the whole family in the living room, and then spoke secretly to Cordelia while Julie and Josh had tried to listen it. Then, Xander had proposed that they stay in the house for the rest of they day, since it was the safest place that he could think of.
"Brain-trust, Xander," Cordelia had told him gently, in her own version of gently. At least she had become slightly more caring over the years. "It's daylight outside. The vampires can't possibly get us." She then had waited quietly as Xander once again steered Julie and Josh back to the couch where their older stepbrother was waiting patiently and their younger half-sister was busy painting herself and the couch with her lollipop. "Besides, it's the 21st. Almost Christmas. We've got presents to buy and things to do. We just can't drop it because you're afraid vampires are going to magically appear in the sunlight. I promise, we'll be home a good hour before sunset, and pick up Nicholas from his violin lesson. And Julie and Josh from their soccer game. And Annie from Natalie's house."
Xander had given her a wary look, but then gave in. They had breakfast, drove the kids to their respected places, and then took the subway to Fifth Avenue, right to the place where Cordelia had ended her torture yesterday.
"Ooh, look at that dress!" Cordelia squealed for the fiftieth time that morning, tugging on Xander's arm, since his hands were full of packages and bags. Amazing that such young children could think of so many things that they wanted for Christmas.
"Buy me that for Christmas?' Cordelia sighed, walking up to the window. She touched the glass lovingly as she imagined that she was touching the ice blue, slinky, sleeveless dress that was hanging on a display mannequin just inside. "Ooh, will you Xander?" She turned towards him, her eyes begging. It almost wanted to make him break out in laughter, although he knew that it would be rude. Women. Definitely the weaker of the sexes.
"Sure, honey," he told her sincerely, coming up and with his free hand, caressing her right arm. She smiled warmly at him, liking his touch and the little PDA. "But that would mean we either a) return most of the kid's presents or b) narrow down your lists of 'All I Want For Christmas', because it's definitely just not teeth."
Cordelia laughed, and then gave his a quick pop kiss on the mouth, and then walked down the street ahead of him, swinging her hips the way he liked it. "I guess we'll have to get rid of those toys I wanted..." she said a bit wistfully.
"Hey, wait, I thought those were on my list!" Xander said jokingly, coming up behind her. He grabbed her in a hug, and soon they were surrounded by a little circle of packages and very close to each others faces. The other New Yorkers around them wasted no time in passing by them quickly, or stopping to stare at the two people so obviously in love.
"Xander, you are such...aurggh," she teased, reaching up to grab the collar of his jacket. She tugged playfully on it and then set to buttoning the top button. She was close enough to feel his heart increase in it's rate of beating. Men. Definitely the weaker sex. "Such a complete idiot!"
"I'm not a complete idiot," Xander protested, watching his wife do her little wife-y thing. "I have a few missing parts."
Cordelia laughed again. "Don't I know it." That made Xander laugh along, though he was interrupted when Cordelia leaned in for another kiss, one that lasted a bit longer than the first.
When she pulled away, Xander whispered, "People are staring."
"You're eyes were open?" she admonished.
"I like looking at you, even when we kiss. I can't take my eyes off of you."
{Oh, how romantic}. She was melting. Cordelia whirled out of his embrace, something very hard to do on Fifth Street, 5 days away from Christmas. She smiled, her dimples showing, and held out her hand. Xander grasped hold of hers, running his fingers over her knuckles and over the wedding ring, the one identical to the one he wore on his own ring finger. They huddled close, because of the cold and the crowd and something more, and they continued walking.
That was when Xander ran into the wall.
"Shit!" Xander swore loudly as he felt his noise connect with the wall. He closed his eyes and grasped his nose, trying to see if he had broken anything or if blood was coming out. When the hell was there a wall in the middle of Fifth Street's sidewalk?
As the pain subsided, Xander opened his eyes to find out where the wall had sprung from. Then he noticed that he noticed that he wasn't on Fifth Street anymore.
"Shi..." he started, but ended up trailing off. His eyes roamed up the wall, and as he stepped back, his eyes continued to rove over the double doors. "Where the..."
Then he turned around, and saw a sight he'd thought he'd never, *ever* see.
"Holy hell," he murmured, as he looked into the very frightened face of his younger self.
After Willow had begun to urgently read through the book, Buffy and Giles had come up behind Xander, asking what had happened. Xander had gotten flushed and said that he might had made a boo-boo. Giles, more than a little upset, yanked the book out of Willow's hands and set to deciphering what the heck Xander had done.
A few seconds later, Buffy had whispered urgently to the other three, "Hey, who's that?"
They all stared at the stranger who had appeared out of nowhere, and then Xander had gotten the oddest feeling. He found himself walking, his feet like lead, to where the stranger was. Imagine his shock and surprise when the stranger turned around, and he found himself looking into an extremely familiar, but quite different, face.
"Xander, what did you do *now*?" came the exasperated female voices from across the room.
The two Xander's turned to look at the girls, the same exact things on their minds.
After Faith's surprise entrance ("Afraid of the competition, eh?") she had jumped onto the leather couch and practically melted in with her surroundings. Dressed in matching black leather, she was also wearing tons of silver jewelry, and she showed lots of skin. Even after her twenties, Faith could still pull the Goth thing off and look totally gorgeous. Of course, Buffy knew how she kept in shape.
Buffy had sat down in the loveseat directly across from the couch, after coming back with more cocoa for herself and Faith. Faith didn't seem a bit cold; you worked a lot in the rain, being a Slayer, and your body grew stronger and more immune with every passing night. Buffy, though, was chilled by the subject matter at hand.
"Prophecy?" she had asked, her voice barely audible.
"Um, yeah," Faith had said. Then she had yawned, something she clearly wasn't planning on doing, because she clapped a hand over her mouth in surprise. "My Watcher—my last Watcher, anyway—told me something disturbing before I, ah, got rid of her. She was really into the book-learning thing—such a turn-off—but the women did have something useful to say."
"Like what?" Buffy had urged, wanting to get everything over with. The last time she and Faith had ever spoken, or seen each other, was not under good terms. In fact, the terms were as far from good and they could get. Faith, though, was not acting openly hostile, much like Buffy remembered her to be. Always.
Faith had inhaled deeply. God, this cocoa smelled good. Not like the instant coffee she had so grown tired of when she was on the road, and she was on the road a lot. {The story of my life}. "Like—"
She was interrupted by the faint, childish wail of "Mother!" that came from upstairs. Faith looked at Buffy, raising her eyebrows. "I better go check on her," Buffy had said, getting up. Faith, although she had to personal contact with Buffy, knew every little intimate detail about her life. Entertainment Weekly and People would make a stalker proud. So, as Buffy raced up the marble steps, Faith understood.
In a way. She, herself, had never been able to experience the joys of living in a house she actually owned, much less one this big. Or falling asleep in a bed that didn't change every week or so, next to a man who also didn't change every week or so, or to a man at all. And having a daughter...it must be a female thing, because even though Faith hated to admit it, she ached for the children she could never have. {Buffy, that bitch...} she had thought, clenching her fists in fury. She practically shook with long-repressed anger. {I can't believe I'm talking to her. I can't believe I'm sitting on her couch. I can't believe I've stooped to getting help from that traitorous runaway}.
Upstairs, Buffy had pushed the door open to her daughter's bedroom and stood in the shadows of the doorway. Elisabeth Sarah was sitting up in bed, her face not so sleepy anymore, and nervously clutching the bedspread. Buffy strode across the living room and plopped down next to Es.
"Another nightmare, sweetheart?" she had asked her, afraid of the answer that she would get. She put a comforting arm around her daughter and drew her into her lap. Elisabeth Sarah snuggled closer to her mother and rested her head on her chest. Buffy rested hers on her daughter's head, wrapping her arms tight around the little bundle of love.
"Yes," Elisabeth Sarah had said in a small voice, afraid of admitting the truth. She buried her face in her mother's t-shirt.
Jonah knew nothing of Elisabeth Sarah's "nightmares." Once Buffy had found out, she had been vaguely frightened that it would develop into a running theme, that sooner or later these prophetic dreams of her daughter's would lead to the conclusion that Es was a Slayer. The discovery that Es was turning out to be a very meek little girly-girl strayed far from that conclusion, and since Buffy was still alive (and as she had just found out, so was Faith), it seemed highly unlikely that Elisabeth Sarah was going to be a Slayer.
Still, Es' clairvoyance bordered very much on the paranormal and strange. Come to think of it, it was just plain paranormal and strange. She did not want Jonah involved in any of those happenings. She did not want Jonah to become a "Slayerette" of sorts. Consequences would be too severe.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Buffy had whispered, and she felt Elisabeth Sarah relax in her arms.
"I'd like to," Es had murmured, pulling her face out of her Mom's t-shirt and sitting far back enough so that she could look her mother in the face. "It was weird.
I was lying in my bed, and then I was in another bed, another nursery. And there was this pretty lady looking down at me, and she asked my name. I said I wasn't suppose to talk to strangers...I'm not, Mommy. Daddy told me so. So I didn't. And then I woke up...I don't know who's the pretty lady. Do you know?"
Buffy had paused to think carefully, to put on a show for Es, but inside she had been bubbling with happiness. This didn't sound like one of Es' prophetic dreams; just something very regular. For all they knew, the lady Es dreamed of could have been anyone: ranging from a character made up from Es' subconscious to a lady of the supermarket that said something vaguely of interest to Es and it stayed in her mind.
Just a regular kid.
Buffy sighed.
"I think I saw the lady at the supermarket," Buffy had told her gently, and Es had closed her eyes and smiled. Buffy wasn't the only one relieved that this wasn't some vision of portent. Back when the earthquake happened...Es couldn't sleep for nights before. All those terrible visions, and when she was awake too.
She remembered three years ago, sitting at the lunch table, feeding Es some leftover pizza from last night, and the toddler was happily gnawing on the crust, ingesting more saliva than bread. Buffy was heating up some slices for herself in the microoven, when Es suddenly started to cry. Buffy rushed to her side, reached out for her daughter's hand, and asked what was wrong. In between sobs, Es choked out the words "Mr. Harlen! Mr. Harlen! Oh Mommy, don't let him go!"
Mr. Harlen was a man somewhere in his early 60's who had offered to fix a leak in the Daly house. Jonah had agreed, a contrast to his usual "I'm a man, I can do it" behavior, because he would be staying at work late. Jonah had ended up coming home early and gone to bed, but that was besides the point. Mr. Harlen had been up there went the earth began to shake. Buffy had gone outside and crawled up the tree besides the house, trying to rescue him. He had fallen off the roof, but Buffy was there just in time to grab his hand. She had a good grip...but then the tree had fallen over. She buckled herself in the right position to land without breaking any important bone, slightly awkward because she was holding on to Mr. Harlen. And then, she had let go, and the last thing she had heard from him when he was alive was his screams as the tree collapsed over him.
Es could be eerily accurate.
"I'm tired, Mommy," Elisabeth Sarah had said, yawning. She pulled away from her Mommy and crawled over to her pillow, diving under the covers. "Tuck me in," she giggled childishly.
Buffy had laughed and shifted her position so that now she was beside Es. She kissed her daughter on the forehead and pulled the covers up to her chin, careful to keep Es' hands over the covers. Then she had picked up Mr. Gordo and a stuff monkey called Ms. Jumbles and place them on alternate sides of her daughter. Es had smiled contently.
"Night-night, Mommy," she had whispered, her eyelids already heavy with sleeps.
"Sweet dreams," Buffy repeated from earlier that night. And as she stood up to leave the room, she realized that she really meant it. For everyone's sake.
Now Buffy stood in front of the couch, watching the deep, even breaths of Faith. Fallen right asleep while Buffy had gone upstairs to check on her daughter. Buffy wondered for a moment if it was all a trick. Faith had always seemed to be on the road, even before Buffy had left Sunnydale again, and she might have just wanted a place to stay for the night.
But no, Faith would have come right out and demanded it. She wouldn't have lied about a prophecy to get in.
Would she? Buffy didn't know. She didn't know anything anymore...and that lack of knowledge really bothered her.
She heard a padded behind her on the carpet, and then heavy breathing. She smiled, and turned around, dropping to her knees.
"Hey Giles," she said affectionately, grabbing Giles in a big bear hug.
The golden retriever panted happily, and licked Buffy's face with his large, rough, red tongue. "Ew, doggy kisses," Buffy laughed, rubbing the top of Giles' shaggy blond head. Then she closed her eyes and kissed the dog on her nose. "You know just how to cheer me up, Giles."
She could've sworn the dog grinned. But instead, Giles opened his mouth to bark, but Buffy grabbed his snout and pointed over to Faith.
"Sleeping," she told the dog, who had grown to know the meaning after the nights she had trained to be quiet around Es, who as a baby started to cry in fear whenever Giles barked at her. "Ssh."
The dog looked back at Buffy, nodding his head sagely. The gesture was so human that Buffy smiled again. This dog had been around people for too long.
Sometimes he reminded her of the real thing.
"I'm not asleep," came the voice of Faith. Buffy turned around again, and saw Faith lifting her head off the leather couch. "You named the dog after your Watcher?" she said groggily, a faint smile on her face.
Buffy blushed. "Uh...yes," she admitted, feeling a bit foolish. She put one arm around her dogs back and began to carefully run her hand over. Giles lay down, enjoying the feeling, and put his head on his front paws. He looked straight at Faith with that knowledgeable expression, blinking his big brown eyes.
"I named a beagle after Xander once," Faith said, drifting off to nappy land again. She allowed herself a yawn. "It was a stupid dog. Damned horny, too."
Buffy giggled. "Sounds like the Xander I remember."
Faith didn't answer, because she was already snoring. Buffy cast a glance at her dog and raised an eyebrow. "Think we should do the same?"
Giles snuffed heavily through his nose. His ear flicked back and Buffy took that s a sign of his distress.
"Sorry Giles, reports of ancient prophecies are to be held off tomorrow due to sleepage," she told the dog. "Now how 'bout you and me snoozing a bit ourselves?"
Giles snorted and quickly rose up to his feet, tail wagging and tug hanging out of his mind. "That a yes?" Buffy asked, rising up to her feet, grabbing the arm of the couch to steady herself.
"Mommy?"
Buffy whirled around, nerves taught—jeez, what the hell else was gonna present itself tonight?—when she realized it was only Es, standing at the stairs, holding the railing with one tiny hand. The large, lavender nightie seemed awfully big on her, and she seemed like the whisp of a ghost. She was so pale...she hadn't gone out much, lately.
"What is it, Es?" Buffy asked for the fiftieth time that night, as Es climbed down the remaining steps and down into the living room, lost in the carpet. She walked over to where her Mom was and stood before her, her bottom lip jutting out just slightly.
"Can I sleep with Giles tonight?" Es asked, looking at the dog. Giles, happy as ever to see her, quickly bounded up to her and licked her hand. Es allowed herself a tiny smile on her perfectly full lips.
"You'll have to ask Giles," Buffy said. "And it seems to me like he totally agrees with you."
Giles yipped softly, and nodded his head emphatically. Es smiled and patted her dog around the folds of his neck. Then she looked past Buffy, to the strange woman who was splayed out on the couch, snoring softly. "Mommy, who's that?"
Buffy turned to meet her gaze, and then swallowed the lump in her throat. How was she gonna explain Faith to Es? How was she gonna explain Faith to *Jonah*. {Think, Buffy, think. A mind is a terrible thing to waste}. "She's a friend of Mommy's. She's sleeping over here...because she needs a place to stay for the night." She took Es' hand. "Maybe when she wakes up, you can talk and play with her." Yeah right. Buffy did not want any of Faith's "personality" to rub off on her daughter.
"Oh," Es said, letting her gaze drift over to the coffee table. She seemed slightly worried.
"Es?" Buffy asked, prodding gently. "Is that the lady you had a dream about?"
"No," Es said quickly and flatly. Buffy was relieved, until Es let go of Buffy's hand and pointed at a picture frame on the coffee table. "*That's* the lady from my dream."
Buffy looked to where she was pointing, and quickly drew in her breath. It was a picture of her, taken outside the old house in Sunnydale. Her mother had taken the photo, a month or so before graduation. The graduation Buffy had never showed up for.
"Um..." Buffy was at a total loss for words. What did *this* mean?
Xander watched as the vaguely familiar stranger open his eyes wide and drop the bags that he was carrying. There was the sound of glass breaking, and then the stranger winced, muttering something about a carousel. Then the man lifted one hand up, reaching out to Xander's face as though he was going to touch him to see if he was real, and then drew his hand back sharply. He backed away, up to the wall, looking at the library setting around him. He looked at the people in the back, and as his eyes settled on Giles all the color drained from his face. A colorful string of swear words erupted from his mouth.
Then there was silence. Nobody seemed sure of what to do. Then the man, leaving the bags and much of his sanity behind, walked right up to the computer and peered at the others.
Buffy was getting a little nervous, and the way that this man was staring at her was making her more nervous. "Hey," she snapped, "what're you looking at?" Actually...besides the fact this man might not even *be* a man, what with him appearing out of thin air, but he was rather good-looking, what with those muscles and that chest and...yummy. Even though he was way too old for her.
The man blinked, and then tried to get his mouth working again. "What date is this?" he asked, his voice cracking like a teen-agers. Then he cleared his throat and asked a bit more forcefully, "What date is today?"
Buffy was still staring/glaring at the man, Willow wasn't the world's greatest speaker, Xander was just joining the, so it was Giles' responsibility to answer. "Um, today is the 21st. Of December," he quickly added.
The man rolled his eyes. "I mean, what *year*," he asked.
"Year?" Willow's asked, her voice up in the high decibels.
"1998," Buffy said quickly, filling him in. "Or, at least, until next week. I think"
The man took this information in, looking down at the ground and his eyes growing a bit darker. Then he looked up and saying the following very slowly and very carefully, as though he did not believe that he himself knew what he was saying:
"Now, none of you are going to believe this." A pause. "OK, maybe you will, living on the Hellmouth and all." Another beat. "My name is Alexander Harris. I'm 32 years old, and just a few seconds ago, I was walking down the streets of New York, Christmas shopping with my wife. In the year 2013. So if any of have any ideas about how the hell I just went back 15 or so years in time, I'd be open to hearing them."
The whole group just stared at him, wide-eyed. Then Giles cleared his throat again.
"Xander," he said, staring at the young one. Both turned to look at them, faces drawn tight in fear and confusion. "I'm afraid that you've messed with something quite powerful."
"What's new," said the older Xander, shooting a glare at his younger self.