Title: One For All (10/?)
Author: Cyclone
Feedback: Please be gentle.
Distribution: Gimme credit and a link. Plus, archived at
Rating: I'm gonna go say PG-13.
Spoilers: Up to Graduation, then AU version of events after that.
Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to the almighty Joss. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Summary: Thanks to Xander's sacrifice, the Slayer and Slayerettes can live normal lives... until now.
Author's Note: Read the previous parts -- including the prologue -- or this is not going to make any sense whatsoever.
* * *
It is with a heavy heart that I record this event for the Council's archives.
My charge, Virginia Maxwell, the Vampire Slayer, is dead.
I did not wake from my enforced slumber until just a few hours ago, and by then, it was too late. It was morning, and I was greeted at the door by Richard Wilkins, for once devoid of his usual cheer.
While on his way to visit one of the prospectors, he had found her on the edge of town. The local doctor's looking her over, but the initial examination results are rather telling. Several of her bones were broken, and she had sustained numerous other injuries, but nothing that would be life-threatening to a Slayer, which suggests a more mystical cause of death.
For now, I shall pay my respects and ensure she gets a proper burial before I continue my research on this demon. She deserves that much at least.
Diego Salvatore
* * *
Her body has been properly interred, and my own research into the demon has turned up nothing so far. Two of the prospectors and their families have vanished. I have cabled a request for additional information from the New York branch.
A regiment of the Cavalry is expected to arrive tomorrow.
I fear that will not be enough.
Diego Salvatore
* * *
The Cavalry regiment arrived this morning, as did a telegraphed response from New York.
The demon appears to be Valkorr, Collector of Souls, and if that is the case, I truly do not believe even a thousand men-at-arms will prove sufficient. Unfortunately, the New York branch could not locate any information regarding any of Valkorr's weaknesses.
Further research is necessary. Local legends may provide some useful information, so I have arranged a meeting with the chief of the local Indian tribe, the Chumash.
Diego Salvatore
* * *
Discussion with the Chumash has led me to the conclusion that Valkorr may have been active here before. Their legends include one about a "spirit thief" who was defeated by the "thunder spirits."
When I return to La Boca tomorrow, I will wire this and my theories to New York.
Diego Salvatore
* * *
Xander put the Watcher diary down. That was the last entry. Besides, he knew what had happened next.
He remembered it.
* * *
Diego rode hard toward the sounds of battle and found himself in a warzone. He gently nudged his horse around and scanned the area with his eyes until he found a familiar face.
"Dick, what happened?"
Richard Wilkins looked around cautiously and said, "It was a demon, Senor Salvatore. A big one. We, ah, we think we managed to stop it."
Diego dismounted, "How?"
"We, ah, we shot it. A lot."
The Watcher shook his head, "That won't be enough. Listen, Dick, I have a plan, but we don't have much time. I'll need your help."
It was pity he didn't have time to work on that lightning spell. A binding would have to do.
* * *
"There he is," Diego whispered.
The Watcher turned... but Wilkins was nowhere to be seen. "Dick? Where...?"
He was cut off as a hand solidly clamped down on his mouth and pulled him back. He struggled, but the tingling in his skin told him that whoever it was was magically enhanced... and he was thus helpless.
His captor threw him at Valkorr's feet, and the demon grinned down at him.
"Now, you know the deal, Valky," a cheerful voice said from behind him. "You get his soul, my soul, and the Slayer's soul, you stay quiet for another hundred and twenty three years."
Diego rolled over and stared, "Dick?"
"Sorry, chum, but I have some pretty high ambitions," Wilkins said with an apologetic shrug, "and playing nice isn't going to get me there."
"The sacrifice has been made; the pact is sealed," Valkorr intoned solemnly, picking up Diego by the throat.
Diego howled.
* * *
Xander's eyes snapped open, and he bolted up suddenly. He blinked and looked around.
"Xander, you're awake."
He turned, "Hey, Buff." He glanced out the window and frowned, "The sun isn't up yet?"
"More like the sun's already down," Buffy smiled. "You slept all day. We had some hot chocolate. I'll heat up a cup for ya."
"I did? Why didn't anyone wake me?" he asked, pulling off the blanket that covered him, then stared at it. He didn't remember getting a blanket last night. "Especially for the hot chocolate," he added absently.
"You'd had a long night. We figured you needed the rest," she said, leaning in the doorway that led to the kitchen. "Oh... I figured you could use it," she said, nodding to the blanket. She turned as the microwave beeped and returned with two steaming cups of hot chocolate. She sat on a chair next to him and handed him one of the mugs.
"Thanks, Buff," he smiled and took the mug, sipping it carefully. "So where is everyone?"
Buffy sighed, "Sleeping, mostly. Faith still hasn't come back, and Angel went looking for her."
"Damn," he murmured.
She nodded, "Yeah, I'm worried too."
They sat in companionable silence.
After the moment, Buffy sighed and said, "Xander... we need to talk."
He flinched, "Buff, if this is about that spell, now really isn't..."
"No," she interrupted, "it's not." She shot him a playful look and winked, "I wanna compare notes with Willow first."
He winced.
"_And_ make sure Giles and Angel are there too. They had a part in it too." Her smile slipped, and she said, "No, it's... it's about us."
He blinked. "'Us'?"
"Yeah."
"As in you and me?" he asked, puzzled.
"You and me," she said. "Xander, I... where do we stand? A-are we friends?"
"'Course we are, Buff, you know that," he said, leaning back. "Well, now that the memory part of spell's broken, we are, anyway."
"Could we be... more?" she asked timidly.
A look of understanding crossed his face, and he said slowly, "Buffy... why are you asking?"
"Because... I want us to be."
"But why?" he asked bluntly. "Buffy, think carefully. Why are you attracted to me? Is it because I was all mysterious and hero-like?"
She opened her mouth but couldn't think of anything to say to that.
He sighed, "Buffy, you said it yourself. Before you got your memories back, I was pulling the same mysterious stranger stunt Deadboy did. That's not me, Buff, you know that."
"Yes, it is, Xander," she said softly. "You just never let us see it before. If you weren't a hero, you wouldn't have cast that spell."
He shook his head adamantly, "Buffy, you're falling in love with an illusion. And even if that was the real me... there's Tara."
"Tara? Oh," Buffy said, her shoulder slumping. "So... you two really are...?"
"Yeah."
"Oh." After a moment, she sighed and said, "I guess I missed my chance, huh?"
"Buffy," he said, searching for a way to say this, to explain to her just how much she meant to him, "you and Willow... you guys are the reasons I keep fighting. There's a part of my heart that will _always_ belong to you, no matter what."
She smiled faintly, "That's... I'm glad."
The lock in the front door clicked.
They both turned toward the door as it swung open to reveal...
"Faith!" Xander said, smiling broadly.
"Hi, Xander, Buffy," the dark-haired Slayer nodded listlessly at each of them.
Xander frowned. She looked like she'd just gone through the wringer, her face bruised and battered, and there was an odd-looking patch on her neck. "Geez, Faith, what happened? You look like hell warmed over."
The brunette cracked a faint smile and replied, "You know me. I went looking for trouble."
"And found it, I see," Xander said sternly. This wasn't the time for Faith's thrillseeking.
"Yeah, well," Faith shrugged, "could you stow the lecture for now? I need to talk to Buffy. Alone."
Buffy blinked in surprise and nodded, "Okay." The blonde detective stepped outside the apartment and closed the door behind her.
The ex-Slayer turned... and doubled over as her successor drove a fist into her gut. Fighting to catch her breath, Buffy was thoroughly defenseless against Faith's next attack. She saw the flying toward her face... and then nothing.
* * *
Thump!
Xander whirled around and yanked the door open. He saw Faith running down the hallway, Buffy slung over her shoulder in a fireman's carry. "Faith?! What the hell are you doing?!"
But the Slayer didn't respond. His hand dropped down to where his Beretta would be... if he hadn't given it to Tara. The witch still hadn't given it back yet, and he was still waiting on the custom pistol he'd ordered for her. Cursing under his breath, he followed, running full tilt.
He pulled himself up onto the banister and slid down. Halfway down the last flight, he vaulted over the banister to the ground level and took off at a run as soon as his feet hit the floor. He burst out into the parking lot and looked around.
But it was deserted.
"God damn it," he murmured.
And suddenly, he understood what must have happened and why Faith had betrayed them.
* * *
Angel entered the darkened apartment and looked around. There was a lone figure standing on the balcony, back to the door, and it took the vampire a moment to recognize the unruly mop of dark hair.
"Harris?" he asked, stepping out onto the balcony.
"Hey, Deadboy."
"What's going on? Where is every-..." he trailed off as he suddenly found himself staring down the barrel of Xander's twelve-gauge. The lights in the apartment flashed on, silhouetting him from behind, and he heard footsteps behind him too.
"So," the Hunter said evenly, "how about you tell us what _really_ happened to Faith, now, okay... Angelus?"
* * *
Author's Postscript:
Bwahahaha! The plot thickens.
Author: Cyclone
Feedback: Please be gentle.
Distribution: Gimme credit and a link. Plus, archived at
Rating: I'm gonna go say PG-13.
Spoilers: Up to Graduation, then AU version of events after that.
Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to the almighty Joss. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Summary: Thanks to Xander's sacrifice, the Slayer and Slayerettes can live normal lives... until now.
Author's Note: Read the previous parts -- including the prologue -- or this is not going to make any sense whatsoever.
* * *
It is with a heavy heart that I record this event for the Council's archives.
My charge, Virginia Maxwell, the Vampire Slayer, is dead.
I did not wake from my enforced slumber until just a few hours ago, and by then, it was too late. It was morning, and I was greeted at the door by Richard Wilkins, for once devoid of his usual cheer.
While on his way to visit one of the prospectors, he had found her on the edge of town. The local doctor's looking her over, but the initial examination results are rather telling. Several of her bones were broken, and she had sustained numerous other injuries, but nothing that would be life-threatening to a Slayer, which suggests a more mystical cause of death.
For now, I shall pay my respects and ensure she gets a proper burial before I continue my research on this demon. She deserves that much at least.
Diego Salvatore
* * *
Her body has been properly interred, and my own research into the demon has turned up nothing so far. Two of the prospectors and their families have vanished. I have cabled a request for additional information from the New York branch.
A regiment of the Cavalry is expected to arrive tomorrow.
I fear that will not be enough.
Diego Salvatore
* * *
The Cavalry regiment arrived this morning, as did a telegraphed response from New York.
The demon appears to be Valkorr, Collector of Souls, and if that is the case, I truly do not believe even a thousand men-at-arms will prove sufficient. Unfortunately, the New York branch could not locate any information regarding any of Valkorr's weaknesses.
Further research is necessary. Local legends may provide some useful information, so I have arranged a meeting with the chief of the local Indian tribe, the Chumash.
Diego Salvatore
* * *
Discussion with the Chumash has led me to the conclusion that Valkorr may have been active here before. Their legends include one about a "spirit thief" who was defeated by the "thunder spirits."
When I return to La Boca tomorrow, I will wire this and my theories to New York.
Diego Salvatore
* * *
Xander put the Watcher diary down. That was the last entry. Besides, he knew what had happened next.
He remembered it.
* * *
Diego rode hard toward the sounds of battle and found himself in a warzone. He gently nudged his horse around and scanned the area with his eyes until he found a familiar face.
"Dick, what happened?"
Richard Wilkins looked around cautiously and said, "It was a demon, Senor Salvatore. A big one. We, ah, we think we managed to stop it."
Diego dismounted, "How?"
"We, ah, we shot it. A lot."
The Watcher shook his head, "That won't be enough. Listen, Dick, I have a plan, but we don't have much time. I'll need your help."
It was pity he didn't have time to work on that lightning spell. A binding would have to do.
* * *
"There he is," Diego whispered.
The Watcher turned... but Wilkins was nowhere to be seen. "Dick? Where...?"
He was cut off as a hand solidly clamped down on his mouth and pulled him back. He struggled, but the tingling in his skin told him that whoever it was was magically enhanced... and he was thus helpless.
His captor threw him at Valkorr's feet, and the demon grinned down at him.
"Now, you know the deal, Valky," a cheerful voice said from behind him. "You get his soul, my soul, and the Slayer's soul, you stay quiet for another hundred and twenty three years."
Diego rolled over and stared, "Dick?"
"Sorry, chum, but I have some pretty high ambitions," Wilkins said with an apologetic shrug, "and playing nice isn't going to get me there."
"The sacrifice has been made; the pact is sealed," Valkorr intoned solemnly, picking up Diego by the throat.
Diego howled.
* * *
Xander's eyes snapped open, and he bolted up suddenly. He blinked and looked around.
"Xander, you're awake."
He turned, "Hey, Buff." He glanced out the window and frowned, "The sun isn't up yet?"
"More like the sun's already down," Buffy smiled. "You slept all day. We had some hot chocolate. I'll heat up a cup for ya."
"I did? Why didn't anyone wake me?" he asked, pulling off the blanket that covered him, then stared at it. He didn't remember getting a blanket last night. "Especially for the hot chocolate," he added absently.
"You'd had a long night. We figured you needed the rest," she said, leaning in the doorway that led to the kitchen. "Oh... I figured you could use it," she said, nodding to the blanket. She turned as the microwave beeped and returned with two steaming cups of hot chocolate. She sat on a chair next to him and handed him one of the mugs.
"Thanks, Buff," he smiled and took the mug, sipping it carefully. "So where is everyone?"
Buffy sighed, "Sleeping, mostly. Faith still hasn't come back, and Angel went looking for her."
"Damn," he murmured.
She nodded, "Yeah, I'm worried too."
They sat in companionable silence.
After the moment, Buffy sighed and said, "Xander... we need to talk."
He flinched, "Buff, if this is about that spell, now really isn't..."
"No," she interrupted, "it's not." She shot him a playful look and winked, "I wanna compare notes with Willow first."
He winced.
"_And_ make sure Giles and Angel are there too. They had a part in it too." Her smile slipped, and she said, "No, it's... it's about us."
He blinked. "'Us'?"
"Yeah."
"As in you and me?" he asked, puzzled.
"You and me," she said. "Xander, I... where do we stand? A-are we friends?"
"'Course we are, Buff, you know that," he said, leaning back. "Well, now that the memory part of spell's broken, we are, anyway."
"Could we be... more?" she asked timidly.
A look of understanding crossed his face, and he said slowly, "Buffy... why are you asking?"
"Because... I want us to be."
"But why?" he asked bluntly. "Buffy, think carefully. Why are you attracted to me? Is it because I was all mysterious and hero-like?"
She opened her mouth but couldn't think of anything to say to that.
He sighed, "Buffy, you said it yourself. Before you got your memories back, I was pulling the same mysterious stranger stunt Deadboy did. That's not me, Buff, you know that."
"Yes, it is, Xander," she said softly. "You just never let us see it before. If you weren't a hero, you wouldn't have cast that spell."
He shook his head adamantly, "Buffy, you're falling in love with an illusion. And even if that was the real me... there's Tara."
"Tara? Oh," Buffy said, her shoulder slumping. "So... you two really are...?"
"Yeah."
"Oh." After a moment, she sighed and said, "I guess I missed my chance, huh?"
"Buffy," he said, searching for a way to say this, to explain to her just how much she meant to him, "you and Willow... you guys are the reasons I keep fighting. There's a part of my heart that will _always_ belong to you, no matter what."
She smiled faintly, "That's... I'm glad."
The lock in the front door clicked.
They both turned toward the door as it swung open to reveal...
"Faith!" Xander said, smiling broadly.
"Hi, Xander, Buffy," the dark-haired Slayer nodded listlessly at each of them.
Xander frowned. She looked like she'd just gone through the wringer, her face bruised and battered, and there was an odd-looking patch on her neck. "Geez, Faith, what happened? You look like hell warmed over."
The brunette cracked a faint smile and replied, "You know me. I went looking for trouble."
"And found it, I see," Xander said sternly. This wasn't the time for Faith's thrillseeking.
"Yeah, well," Faith shrugged, "could you stow the lecture for now? I need to talk to Buffy. Alone."
Buffy blinked in surprise and nodded, "Okay." The blonde detective stepped outside the apartment and closed the door behind her.
The ex-Slayer turned... and doubled over as her successor drove a fist into her gut. Fighting to catch her breath, Buffy was thoroughly defenseless against Faith's next attack. She saw the flying toward her face... and then nothing.
* * *
Thump!
Xander whirled around and yanked the door open. He saw Faith running down the hallway, Buffy slung over her shoulder in a fireman's carry. "Faith?! What the hell are you doing?!"
But the Slayer didn't respond. His hand dropped down to where his Beretta would be... if he hadn't given it to Tara. The witch still hadn't given it back yet, and he was still waiting on the custom pistol he'd ordered for her. Cursing under his breath, he followed, running full tilt.
He pulled himself up onto the banister and slid down. Halfway down the last flight, he vaulted over the banister to the ground level and took off at a run as soon as his feet hit the floor. He burst out into the parking lot and looked around.
But it was deserted.
"God damn it," he murmured.
And suddenly, he understood what must have happened and why Faith had betrayed them.
* * *
Angel entered the darkened apartment and looked around. There was a lone figure standing on the balcony, back to the door, and it took the vampire a moment to recognize the unruly mop of dark hair.
"Harris?" he asked, stepping out onto the balcony.
"Hey, Deadboy."
"What's going on? Where is every-..." he trailed off as he suddenly found himself staring down the barrel of Xander's twelve-gauge. The lights in the apartment flashed on, silhouetting him from behind, and he heard footsteps behind him too.
"So," the Hunter said evenly, "how about you tell us what _really_ happened to Faith, now, okay... Angelus?"
* * *
Author's Postscript:
Bwahahaha! The plot thickens.
