Title: Revenant, Ch. 8

"Well, this is certainly Déjà vu, again." Xander muttered as he sat up in the bed, trying not to disturb the I.V. or scratch at the bandages over his eye.

Fred chuckled as she and Knox checked out the x-rays and the schematics of the bio-prosthetic eye implant the doctors employed by Wolfram and Hart had surgically placed into his maimed eye-socket, while Willow tousled Xander's hair.

"So, how soon do the bandages come off?" Xander asked.

"Are you that eager to be on the front lines again, Xander? Hoping to get the snot beat out of you by a Fyarl demon?" Willow teased.

"Naaah, just hoping I'll be able to do carpentry work again without smashing my thumb into pulp every time. Being able to use a crossbow again is just icing on the cake."

"Well," Fred said, "the speed-healing drugs we bought from a few dimensions over should quicken this up... the bandages should be off in just a few days. Then we can see if the neural optic connections will hold up."

"Hey, anytime we can get Xander out of a hospital is a good time, because checking him in? Not so fun." Buffy added from the doorway.

"Buffy!" Willow shouted, motioning the blonde in.

"Hi, hope I'm not disturbing anything, guys."

"Are you kidding?" Xander replied, "Just the same old post-op pep- talk, except this time around I'll be regaining sight, not losing it. By the way, where's your no-longer undead other half?"

"Out seeing movies with Dawn, he said he was taking her out to see a film named after her."

"Really, which one?" Fred asked.

"Dawn of the Dead."

For a formerly reserved Ex-Watcher, Wesley gave a jerk and a half snort, half snicker sound escaped the Englishman. Fred chuckled, and the Scoobies looked at them in confusion, as Wesley Windham-Price burst out laughing.

"Um, huh?" Buffy asked confusedly.

"Dawn of the Dead? Oh, come on, Buffy, surely you've seen it? George Romero, it falls in between Night of the Living Dead, and Day of the Dead? They're playing the remake in theatres right now?" Wesley added after his laughter died down.

"Wait, Night of the Living Dead? Spike took Dawn, my little sister, to see a movie about rampaging killer Zombies?"

"Wait, didn't Oz rescue Dawn from the demon-mask zombies that time at Buffy's welcome back party?" Willow asked Xander, as the brunette nodded.

"It doesn't matter! I'm gonna kill him, boyfriend or not, I'm gonna kill him!"

"Hey, it could've been worse, they could've gone to see Underworld." Fred added. "So much of that was just plain wrong, cool special effects aside."

"I don't know, the naked, hairless werewolves were weird. Like were- Chihuahuas, only less annoying." Willow added.

"Focus, guys, this is Dawn!"

"Who's a remarkably grown-up 17 year-old. Buffy, you can't shelter her from life."

Buffy slumped and sighed. "I suppose you're right. But still, she's really only four years old, false memories not-withstanding."

"Yes, but with the memories and experience of a 17 year old Sunnydale Hellmouth survivor. Aside from her remarkably bad judgment in stealing and boyfriends, she's a pretty capable person."

---

"Okay, Spike, that was just WRONG." Dawn growled at Spike as they left the theatre auditorium.

"Alright, I'll make it up to you, Nibblet. Tel you what, we can catch American Wedding on cable when we get back, Angel's got Video On Demand over at the Hyperion."

"Okay, throw in Euro Trip, and you're forgiven. But I wasn't entirely talking about you taking me to that film." Dawn shrugged. "We've been attacked by killer zombies before. Back when you were in South America. The zombies in this film were too fast! If that were real, you couldn't possibly get away in order to survive!"

"When did you get attacked by killer zombies?"

"Demon-possessed voodoo mask. Ask Buffy, she'll tell you. Or Giles."

"Um. Not so sure about that. Old Ripper tossed my brain on a real mind- bender a few days ago. Told me I was turning into a Slayer."

Dawn stopped and stared at him in shock.

"A Slayer? Are you and Buffy going to be trading bra sizes soon?"

"Hah bleedin' hah, Nibblet. Rupert said I was becoming a MALE Slayer, that my demon was being absorbed or merged with William, and that we're sort of the same as a Slayer, kind of."

"Spike, that's cool! Omigod, if I knew where Janice lived, I'd SO tell her! Hey, have you started developing a Slayer-sense?"

"Not yet, which is kind of comforting. Problem is, Pet, Halloween's gonna suck. Can't go game-face, so the outfits we'd planned on are kind of out, now." Spike said, scratching his scalp.

"WHAT? NO!" Dawn cried out. "That'll make it so much harder to make you up as Kiefer Southerland's character from the Lost Boys! That just ruins my costume!"

"What, you can still dress up as Starr.."

"But without a vamp at my side, no-one will get the reference!"

"Get Angelus to put on a long-haired wig, he can be Marco, or give him a perm and a mullet and he can be Michael. Bet he's still got an ear-ring or two from the eighty's."

"Great idea! Oh, wait, he was a homeless person eating rats during the eighties. No ear-rings."

"Bugger. Between that and his weird fixation on Barry Manilow, makes me wonder why everyone looks up to him. Freakishly tall git."

"Well, the Slayers Ex-Boyfriend, picked by the Powers that be, questing to right various wrongs, yada-yada-yada."

"Which just proves that Buffy and the P-T-B's have weird taste, and that a curse and a rather dodgy prophesy can muck up your whole day."

T.B.C.