A/N: I'm back! Sorry—it was busy-ness for the last few weeks, and my plot bunnies were bitching about my other stories. But I'm back, and this fic isn't forgotten—don't worry.
*Surveys first chapter* Well, shit. Thank you Sara. You are absolutely right—I got the basic concept from Yahtzee's Phoenix Burning. I haven't the faintest idea how I forgot to mention that in the first chappie. All I say in my defense is that I had had a really, really bad weekend. So, here goes.
Disclaimer: The Jossverse does not belong to me, and the basic concept for this story came from Yahtzee's Phoenix Burning, an excellent story *bows to Yahtzee* I could never write anything that compared. So, go read Phoenix Burning. Go, shoo. I give you leave to go. On second thought, read mine first and then I give you leave to go *Shrugs* I get to be a little selfish, don't I? But as soon as you're finished reading this, go read Phoenix Burning 'cause it's a thousand times better than I could ever do. I know what it is—it's a fanfic of a fanfic ^_^ There'll be similarities, but I'm not retelling her story—I've got my own twisted plot for this fic.
*Glares at title* I think I might change my title—I'd forgotten that Yahtzee's was Phoenix Burning. I'd thought it was Phoenix Rising. My bad. *Sighs*
huh: You are absolutely right about Giles—I didn't mean to make it sound like I was taking away from his relationship with them. I phrased the sentence badly. I was talking about the growing up together thing and the bond that comes then. As he was already an adult, he did not have the bond that growing up together gives friends. My apologies. And you're right—it is bad form. Can I just say I had had a really sucky week and was in an extremely bad mood? And many apologies and cookies? ^_^
Willow Tree Burning
Chapter 2
One of the girls asked hesitantly, "You are not a Slayer?"
Slayers. Of course—that was why all their eyes looked familiar. They were all Slayers from times long past. That, and the magic…
"You idiots!" Willow exploded, finally understanding. "Do you know how seriously wrong resurrection can go?"
Ashton drew himself up stiffly. "I beg your pardon?"
Willow took a deep breath. "There will be consequences. There are always consequences, don't you realize that? Magic isn't a toy!"
"We are fully aware of that," Ashton said stiffly. He looked at the others. "Suri?"
An Asian girl nodded.
"Sarah?"
"Just call me Chaos," the British girl said.
"Keladree? Micaela? Nora?"
At each name he got a nod, and he sighed in relief. Then he looked at Willow, obviously troubled. "Miss Rosenberg, my deepest apologies for the mix up. I had no idea."
"It's okay," Willow said automatically then frowned. "Well, not really, but there's nothing you can do about it now."
She looked around, still curious about the spell they had used. She recognized parts of it, but others…
"Why are we here Mr. Ashton?" one of the Slayers—Nora, Willow thought—asked. Willow blinked. Oh yeah, that little detail.
"Simply put, we need your help," Ashton said frankly. "We are being overrun by demons."
Willow frowned slightly. That was—that wasn't supposed to happen—be happening. That was what the spell had been for…
"Overrun how?" the British girl, Sarah, asked. Ashton looked grave. "During most of your lives, the vampire percentage of the population was very low. During Keladree's life, it was slightly higher. But now—now nearly thirty percent of the population consists of vampires, and another five or six of other demons."
"Good Lord," Nora murmured.
"The humans are losing," Ashton said bluntly. "And we need your help. You five are five of the best Slayers in history."
Willow could see the pride in their eyes at this statement. She looked at Ashton. "And Buffy was the best."
"Well, yes," Ashton admitted. "She lived to be thirty four."
"Good for you Buffy," Willow murmured to herself.
"Perhaps the ladies would like to get settled," another man suggested. Willow's attention was drawn back to the group at the wall. Ashton nodded. "Of course, of course. Helen Mayes will direct you," he told the girls.
The ones still sitting on the tables got to their feet. Willow followed suit a little more slowly, deep in thought about what he had said. Something occurred to her, and she turned to look at Ashton. 'What year is it?"
He looked grave. "2514."
Someone staggered. Someone else gasped. Willow felt numb again. Five hundred years. Five hundred—Her eyes met Ashton's. "There's no one left, is there?"
"How could anyone from your lifetime have survived?" a girl scoffed. Willow didn't look away from Ashton. If he knew of Buffy, then he knew who she was talking about. He looked away and said flatly, "Everyone is dead."
Willow looked down, nodding, and followed the others.
******
All six girls were settled in one large room. A small chest at the foot of each bed held clothes. Helen Mayes gestured to them, saying, "You each have clothes. I would suggest dressing. Lunch is within the hour."
She left them, giving them some privacy. Willow looked at the others. "She's right. We'll probably feel better dressed." Although waking up together with five other girls, all of them naked as the day they were born, did tend to bring on some automatic camaraderie for some strange reason.
"Feel better?" the girl with blue black hair, dark brown eyes, and olive skin demanded. "How are we supposed to feel better? It has been one thousand years since I lived."
Then again, maybe not.
"And five hundred since I have," Willow informed her. "What difference does that make? We are all out of our times."
"Yes, but at least we're all Slayers," Sarah said. "What do you have? You're not even a Watcher."
"Yes," the black haired girl—Micaela—agreed, looking at her. "How did you even know of the Council?"
"Buffy was my best friend," Willow said, looking through the chest. She dressed and sat down on her bed. The others copied her. Sarah looked curious. "I wasn't allowed to have friends."
"Neither was I," Nora said.
"Nor I," Micaela agreed. Keladree shrugged. "My Watcher didn't stop me."
They glanced at the last, Suri, who merely looked back impassively. Willow gave her a small smile then looked up when the door opened. Helen Mayes looked at the red head. "Willow, Mr. Ashton wishes a word."
Willow nodded and headed for the door. Sarah grinned. "You're in trouble."
Willow made a face at her then, when she passed Helen, felt tendrils of grief wrapping around her heart. The younger girl reminded her of Dawn.
Helen led her to a door and pressed her palm to a pad. The door slid open—like in Star Trek—and Helen gestured her in.
Willow stepped in, slightly wary, looking around. The Council was not a group to be lax about when dealing with.
Ashton stood by a table, pouring tea. Another man sat on a sofa, looking a little uncomfortable. Willow studied him briefly. He was slender, with light brown eyes and graying brown hair. He seemed troubled.
Ashton looked up. "Ah, Miss Rosenberg. Please, sit down. Thank you Helen."
Willow sat gingerly in a chair facing both men, her green eyes flicking from one to the other.
"Tea?" Ashton asked. Willow hesitated then nodded. "Please."
He poured her a cup. "Milk? Sugar?"
Willow shook her head and accepted the cup. Ashton handed the other man a cup and sat down with his. "Miss Rosenberg, I apologize yet again for the mistake. I have no idea how it happened. As things stand though, we will have to work with what has happened, yes?"
Willow nodded, taking a cautious sip of her tea before setting it down. "I have one thing to say before you start."
"Yes?" Ashton looked at her politely. Willow just looked serious. "Don't bring Buffy back."
Ashton drew himself up slightly in his chair. "I beg your pardon? She was a Slayer. She would understand."
"She would hate you," Willow said flatly. "She died twice before and was brought back. She's earned her rest."
"She was a Slayer," Ashton repeated dismissively. "She would accept her duty."
"She would beat the crap out of you," Willow said dryly. "Trust me."
"May we move on?" the other man suggested. It was the same man who had suggested they get settled. Willow looked at him. "Who are you?"
"Damon Kentworth," he replied. Willow studied him then said, "You were supposed to be Buffy's Watcher."
He dipped his head in acquiescence.
"Now he is yours," Ashton said.
Willow stared at him. "What?"
"You can't expect to be set loose in this time without anyone to look out for you," Ashton said, as if the idea was absurd. Willow stared at him. "But—I'm not a Slayer! I can't have a Watcher!"
Ashton looked at her. "Why do you have a problem with this arrangement?"
Willow glanced at Damon Kentworth. "Well—"
Damon smiled kindly. "I am not offended. I was startled myself. By the way—how do you know what a Watcher is?"
"Buffy is—was—my best friend," Willow said after a minute. "I know all about the Slayer thing."
"Ah."
"So," Ashton said. "You agree?"
Willow glanced at Damon and nodded. "I guess. Ooh—can I learn weapons?" She looked at Damon hopefully. "I know some, but I never really took the time to learn them."
"I suppose," Ashton said. Willow gave him a dry look. "I thought Damon was my Watcher."
Damon chuckled. "She has a point James."
Ashton glanced at him then allowed a small smile. "Touché. Well then, Miss Rosenberg, Mr. Kentworth, it is lunch time."
Willow rose, as did Damon, who said, "Ladies first."
"Oh no." Willow grinned. "That won't work until I know my way around, mister."
He chuckled and offered his arm. Willow accepted, deciding that she liked him. Buffy would have liked him too…
Willow shook her head to banish those thoughts. She could dwell on those later.
It was a small dining room that they entered. Small, but very nice. Willow looked at the room with approval. "Nice."
"I agree," Damon said, looking around. "Your companions are staring."
Willow glanced at the Slayers with a grin and joined them. Sarah poked her, demanding, "What happened to you?"
Willow shrugged. "I got a Watcher. I am no longer Watcher-less."
"But you are not a Slayer," Nora protested. Willow looked at her. "That's what I said, but did they listen? No. So I get my very own Watcher."
******
"Ladies."
Ashton's voice made them look up from their after-lunch conversation. He nodded to them. "I realize that it has been a rough day, but I hoped you would be willing to obtain an understanding of why you are here."
Willow glanced at the others. This was their gig. Heads nodded and ten minutes later they were settled in a room with a large screen. Ashton pushed a button on a controller and a seal appeared on-screen.
"This will show you all what our world has become," he said as scenes flashed across the screen. A deserted town, a crumbling city. Vampires and demons killing humans.
The Slayers and Willow watched, grim faced, as scene after scene paraded across the screen. Willow could hardly believe what she was seeing. She had fought demons, yes, but never had she seen demons on this scale. This was a war.
And wasn't that why they had been brought back? To fight a war? They thought she was useless, an accident, but soon they would learn why Willow Rosenberg was a good ally to have. Soon—not today, not tomorrow—but soon. Why she was reluctant to tell them about being a witch, she did not know, but instincts were an important part of this world-saving job, and she trusted hers. She trusted Buffy's better, but Buffy was not here. It was just her, all along, fighting this fight—but not alone. Five other Slayers and an entire Watcher's Council with her. So why did she feel alone?
