Thanks and adoration to my beta readers, Fab, Erica Olson and Stephen Lord. I hope you enjoy this one, it's caused me no end of headaches and rewrites :-).

Disclaimer:
The Buffyverse belongs to Mutant Enemy as far as I'm aware. No money being made, no infringement intended.

Spoilers for Season Seven (all of it now). It's set right after Episode 12 (Potential).


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Part Nine

"Oh to have that twisted innocence
Not to see the trouble every day
Or the traps and tortures that run our lives
Or to hear the lies that people say"

Twisted Innocence - Skyhooks

Buffy Summers was having a hard day. It was bad enough that she was in the middle of a war with the evilest of evil beings, bad enough that there were half a dozen frightened potential slayers and a very annoying hostage using her home as a boarding facility. Now she was having to deal with a rogue demon who was apparently related to the annoying hostage (and who, of course, wanted to kill him); and trying to find some information about the whole thing had, rather than leading to a nice, non-convoluted explanation, led to this.

"What do you mean, that's about it?"

The smallish brown haired guy who had been trying to get away from her a few seconds ago now stood awkwardly at her side, looking vaguely apologetic.

"Umm... what he said? That's about it."

Buffy stared at Andrew, who seemed ludicrously happy by this turn of events. Then she stared at the other, older Andrew who was leaning against the doorway looking distinctly ill.

She turned back to the small guy. "You're from the future."

"Well, yes."

"And you've come here to save Andrew's life."

"That's right."

"To stop horrible things happening to the time zone."

"That was kind of the theory." He looked worried. "I think we may have screwed things up a little."

There was an annoyed cough from one of the hospital's nurses, and Buffy pulled herself together. Okay, this was not the place to have a conversation like this. For one thing, they had a large, curious audience of both staff and public. For another... well, talking like a lunatic was never a good option when the psych ward was so close. They needed out. Quickly. Where the hell was Anya?

The nurse apparently determined that annoyed coughing wasn't going to work in these circumstances. "Excuse me, but this man is very ill, and he's going back to the emergency ward."

The older Andrew straightened up at this. "I'm not going back to the emergency ward!"

"Sir, I don't know what this is about or who these people are, but I can't let you just leave in the condition you're in."

Dust hovered next to Buffy worriedly. "Andrew maybe you should do what she says. Just for a few hours? I mean, the damage is pretty much done anyway."

"There you go; your companion's being very sensible."

Buffy frowned. "Wait a second; we need to have a talk!"

"Ma'am, this is not the time for this nonsense!"

"It's not nonsense, it's..."

"Andrew, I really think maybe..."

"This is so cool! I'm like a lone hero, travelling the landscape with my loyal companion, never giving in, even when the odds are..."

"Nurse." Elder Andrew abruptly turned on his heel and addressed the woman standing next to him.

She blinked. "Yes?"

His face was determined. "Do you have any legal way of keeping me here?"

She hesitated, not liking where this conversation was going. "Not... not at hand. Of course, if I believe that you're not in your right mind I can bring in a psychiatrist to assess your mental capabilities..."

Elder Andrew nodded. "Fair enough. I'll make sure I'm gone before he arrives then." He turned and started to walk out the front door.

Buffy grabbed him before he could quite make it. "Wait a second. Where do you think you're going?"

He gazed at her, unperturbed. "You said we needed to have a talk, right?"

Buffy blinked. "Well, yes..."

"Right. I'll be waiting out by your car then. See you in a minute." He shrugged her off and walked out.

She was still standing in astonishment when Dust gave her a nervous grin and hurriedly followed him.

***********

"Andrew, wait!"

Andrew stopped and waited for Dust to reach him, which was a good thing because his legs chose that moment to give out.

Dust swore, dived forward, and steadied him. "You idiot!"

Andrew winced and took a deep breath. Then started to walk again; slower and more carefully this time. "Thanks so much."

His companion scowled. "What am I supposed to say? That it was a great idea for you to risk your life in such a colossally stupid way and then walk out of the hospital against the better judgement of pretty much everyone there?"

"I had to..."

"You so did not! There must have been something, anything else you could do! Jesus, Andrew, you slit your own wrist! That's just... I can't believe you did that!"

"I did it because I had to. It was a split second decision, I didn't have time to think of anything else!"

"So you immediately went for the solution that involved the most risk to yourself. And this isn't the first time! Do you think I'd be this angry if this was the first time?"

"Dust please. Just drop it."

"Drop it?"

"Dust!" Andrew stopped abruptly and turned to face his angry partner. "This. Is not. The time! Get mad at me later. Scream at me if you want! But Buffy and me are in there, and they're going to be out here any second and we need to figure out what to do!"

Dust stared at him and then bit his lip. "Okay. Later. I won't forget."

"I don't expect you will." They arrived at Buffy's car. Andrew lowered himself to the ground and sat leaning against one of the wheels while Dust squatted down in front of him, rummaging in Andrew's bag for a shirt to replace the hospital one. They'd probably be wanting that back.

"Right. Fine. So what do we do?"

Andrew accepted a shirt from Dust and pulled it on, wincing. "Well, we'd better tell them as little as possible."

"You think it'll matter? I mean, you don't remember this ever happening, do you? God knows you would have told me if you did. So something's obviously very screwed up already."

Properly clothed now, he closed his eyes and leaned back wearily. "It can't hurt. I don't know. Maybe it won't matter, but we may as well stick to it for now."

Dust stood up and paced. "You're probably right. I think the big question is, though, can we enlist them to help deal with Tucker? Having Buffy and Willow and Spike on our side will make it a whole lot easier."

"And we've certainly done a horrible job."

"We're not dead yet. That means we've done a reasonable job, at least."

"Buffy would make this a hell of a lot easier. I think we really need her help."

"So, tell her the absolute bare basics and ask for her help?"

"I guess so. One other problem though: What if she wants to take us back to the house?"

Dust frowned. "I don't know. It'll be safer there now that Tucker knows we're here."

"But it's filled with people we know."

"Right. I don't know. I guess we could..." He frowned deeper. "It might not be wise, but I have a horrible feeling we'll need the safety that being locked up in the Summers' will give us, Andrew. And it's not like the fact that you know you're here hasn't thoroughly twisted the timeline into knots already. Just being seen there will do a lot less damage than actually telling them what's going to happen, right?"

"So we just take it as it comes. Great."

"And if we do end up there, we don't have to tell everyone we're time travellers. You could be a relative of Andrew's that Buffy is helping."

Andrew raised an eyebrow. "Why would she be helping the relative of her hostage?"

"She's a very philanthropic person?"

He looked sceptical. "Uh-huh."

Dust sighed and looked at him. "So how are you? Honestly. Are you going to be in any state to do anything physical any time soon?"

Andrew took a deep breath and closed his eyes again, trying to judge how sore he really was.

"Well?"

He opened his eyes. "Right now I feel like crap, but I think I'll be a lot better if I get a good night's sleep. My body just needs time to heal."

"So we might have to go back to the Summers' after all."

Andrew made a face. "Let's just avoid it if we can, okay?"

Dust looked at him thoughtfully. "You're that worried about the others seeing us?"

Andrew gave a short, humourless bark of laughter. "It's not the others that I'm worried about."

Dust blinked in confusion. "What..."

"See! I told you! I'm here with my companion to save the world from collapsing into a paradox that will rend apart all time and space!"

They both looked up to see the younger Andrew leading the way towards the car while babbling excitedly. Following him were Buffy, who was looking thoroughly ticked off, and...

Andrew's eyes widened. "Anya!"

Anya raised an eyebrow. "Yes, that is my name. And you're apparently Andrew from the future, though we still have to prove that. You don't look like you've changed a whole lot, though you might have gotten slightly more muscly."

He smiled despite himself. "Maybe just slightly. Hello Anya."

Buffy crossed her arms. "Okay," she said. "I've phoned Xander and he's going to let us use his place to have our little talk, seeing as Anya apparently still has a key. Willow will be joining us with a handy truth spell."

Dust looked worried. "It's not one that's going to make us talk, is it? I don't mind you knowing what I'm saying is true, but there's some stuff that we shouldn't say."

Buffy glanced at him. "We'll try and take that into account. Alright?"

"I guess. How many other people have you told about us?"

Buffy's gaze drifted unconsciously to the older Andrew. "Only those close to me for now. I want more information." She shook her head and then fished around for her car key. "And this time I want the truth."

"Technically I didn't not tell you the truth before. I just didn't tell you much at all."

She glared. "I hate people who use technicalities. You'd better be willing to at least give some explanations now, or I will get a spell that forces you to talk."

Dust sighed and went to help his Andrew up. "Right."

The younger Andrew stood a little off to the side. His eyes were still gleaming. "This is so cool."

Anya snorted. "Sure, dweeb-boy. Cool."

He turned to her in protest. "It is! Wouldn't you find it cool if a version of you from the future came back? I can't wait to talk to him properly."

Anya shrugged. "He doesn't really look too happy about the opportunity... Oh for heaven's sake!"

"Huh?"

Anya ignored him and walked up to his future self. "You keep looking at me as if you're semi-close to me!"

The older Andrew winced and steadied himself on the car. "Yes?"

She frowned. "It's just very disconcerting. Since I barely know you now, I'm guessing this has something to do with some kind of close moment we share in the future."

He nodded.

"Oh. Well, fair enough then." She hesitated, then looked alarmed as a thought crossed her mind. "God, we didn't have sex did we?"

There was an awkward pause. Buffy stopped in the middle of opening the car door to look at Anya with practised disbelief.

The Elder Andrew barely twitched. "I think I can safely say no to that."

Anya looked relieved. "Well, thank goodness for that." Suddenly realising that this might be considered harsh, she added. "Not that I don't find you attractive in a vaguely geeky way, I just always assumed you were gay."

"Anya!" Buffy looked pained. Dust looked dumbstruck. The younger Andrew blushed beet red.

Anya rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, it's not like you haven't thought it too."

Buffy gritted her teeth. "That's not the point!"

"Why don't you ask this guy? He's probably sleeping with him."

"What? I'm not sleeping with him!"

"Well, have you thought about it? He does look a bit grumpy and sex can be very..."

"Anya!"

"But..."

As they degenerated into arguing and young Andrew stood embarrassed and trying not to look at anyone, Dust turned to his Andrew with a certain amount of awe. "She's exactly how you always said she was."

Andrew looked amused. "You didn't believe me?"

"I didn't think someone could be exactly how you always said she was."

He smiled wistfully. "That's Anya. There's no-one quite like her."

They watched the argument awkwardly. Dust bit his lip. "Look," he said quietly, "Maybe we could..."

Andrew's look was pained. "No."

"But maybe there's something we can..."

Andrew turned and hissed at him between clenched teeth. "Dust, please . Just don't think about it. Because if you think about it, I'll think about it and I... Dust, I don't think it's a good idea. Think of the damage we've already potentially done."

Dust stared at him and then sadly nodded. "Right," he said. "Right."

***********

Willow gathered together spell ingredients, still shaking her head from the recent phone call. "This is so bizarre. I mean, Andrew?"

Xander nodded. "Well, it might not be. I mean, we have had experiences with demons pretending to be future people before."

Willow shot him a sympathetic look, well aware of how the demon Xander mentioned had contributed to his failed marriage attempt. "That's true. But there doesn't really seem to be much motivation for something like that now. And let's face it, if you were a demon trying to get our trust, would you really pick Andrew to pretend to be?"

"Point. Though he's not exactly my first guess for a time traveller either."

Willow shook her head. "I know, I know. The whole time travel thing is bad enough, but Andrew..."

"Okay, now you're just repeating yourself. Not to say that I didn't do the same thing on the phone ten minutes ago..."

Willow grabbed a candle and pulled herself up. "I just kind of find it hard to believe that behind all the weirdness that's been happening over the last day or two is..."

"More weirdness?"

"Pretty much, yeah. Though I really shouldn't be surprised at this point, should I?"

"Willow, this time travel plot has been the basis of about fifty different action flicks and if it all turns out to be legit, Andrew's* the main character. I think you're entitled to be surprised. Even astounded."

"Well, that makes me feel a little better." She smiled. "Anyway, I'm off. I'll just go tell Spike before I go."

"Hang on. Buffy said she only wants the whole 'inner circle' to know about this for the moment. And sorry if I'm pointing out something stupid here, but since when did Spike become inner circle?"

Willow frowned at him. "Xander, do you really think she didn't mean him?"

He scowled at her.

"Well?"

"Fine, whatever. Tell the murderous vampire all our secrets."

"Xander..."

He threw her a disgusted look. "I'll be in the kitchen. You do whatever feels right."

Willow watched him go, sighed, and then headed to the basement.

*************

Dust sat in the back seat of the car sandwiched uncomfortably between two versions of Andrew. His Andrew had apparently succumbed to sleep and sat slumped against the window with his eyes closed. In contrast the younger Andrew looked about as far from sleep as it was possible to get. And he just wouldn't stop talking...

"So you and me just kind of travel around righting wrongs?"

Dust frowned helplessly. "I really don't think I should say anything about that."

Young Andrew's eyes shined. "That's because it might mess with the space-time continuum, right?"

"Uhh... yes. That's right."

"What about the fact that you're talking to us now? Will that affect things?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"You don't know? Didn't they brief you before they sent you back?"

"Before who sent us back?"

"No one sent you back? Wow, how did you do it then?"

"Well we... Look, I'll tell everyone together if I'm going to explain, okay?"

"Fair enough then. So you're like my loyal companion?"

Dust blinked incredulously at him. "Well I... I guess sort of."

"That's so cool! You do right some wrongs though, don't you?"

"We've... righted a few," he conceded.

"I thought so! I mean, that's definitely something I can see myself doing in the future. Earning my redemption by saving those in need. Helping the hopeless!"

Dust stared at him. "That's... a nice idea."

"Totally! So the First Evil gets defeated and all?"

Dust frowned. "I don't think it's a good idea to count on that. It might be that we're only from a possible future, okay?"

Andrew nodded enthusiastically. "Like 'Days of Future Past" in the X-Men."

"Err... yeah. Like that."

"I can see that. So, has future me told you much about what's going on at the moment?"

"You've told me bits. Everyone's holed up at the Summers' at the moment, right?"

"Right. We're preparing for the inevitable battle. And they're training the potential Slayers for the day when one of them will take up the mantle of the one and only chosen one."

He tried to nod sincerely. "One and only chosen one. Right."

"Uhuh. So Tucker's from the future too?"

Dust decided it was fairly safe to admit that. "Yes. Yes he is."

"And he realised that he couldn't defeat me in your time, so he came back to when I was weaker and more defenceless."

Dust made a face. "Well, it wasn't so much that he couldn't defeat you. More that he got sick of trying and thought this would be easier."

"But still, that means I'm a lot more powerful, right?"

Dust frowned at him. "I don't really think we should be talking about this."

Andrew didn't seem fazed. "Right, right." He looked over at the apparently sleeping form of his older self. "So, do you think it would be okay if I touched him, or would there be some kind of catastrophic consequence?"

Dust found himself smiling despite himself. "The Blinovitch Limitation effect?"

Andrew looked delighted. "You watch Doctor Who too?"

"Well... a little bit."

"That's so cool! So do you think it'd be like that?"

"I don't know." Dust knitted his brow. He hadn't actually thought about this. "Maybe it's best not to try. Just in case."

"Well, that's probably a good idea then. You don't really want that kind of discharge of energy. Unless you've got something to contain it. Maybe Willow could do some kind of spell and we could try it under experimental circumstances. Or maybe..."

"Oh, for heaven's sake." Apparently his Andrew hadn't been as asleep as he looked, because he uncurled himself from the window and in one swift move reached over Dust and poked his younger self. Happily, the universe completely failed to explode.

Dust gasped and stared at his companion in fury. "What are you doing? You didn't know that was safe!"

His Andrew's expression was indecipherable. "Couldn't be the Blinovitch Limitation effect," he said simply. "You're supposed to feel a tingling in your hands beforehand."

And as Dust stared at him in astonishment, he closed his eyes and leaned back against the window.

"He's right, you know." The younger Andrew nodded seriously and settled back in his seat.

Dust stared. It suddenly occurred to him that he might well be sitting between two madmen.

***************

Tucker stalked through one of Sunnydale's finer cemeteries and fumed. Darkness had arrived, and fury had made him hungry. Vampires wouldn't help much in the extra powers department, but they gave a good hunt, and that was what he wanted right now. Building up his power could wait. Finding out about the seal could wait. Hell, right now the whole damn world could wait. He needed to kill. Carefully, silently, he pulled himself into the shadows of a large and intricately carved tombstone.

He waited.

**************

"Umm.... So, Tucker managed stay one step ahead of us for ages, basically. And...other people tried to get him too, but he just kept slipping away."

Buffy frowned at Dust, who sat nervously on the edge of one of Xander's chairs, trying to avoid rubbing at the symbols Willow had drawn in mud on his palms. Willow herself sat cross-legged on the floor holding the candle, which was currently burning an interesting shade of purple. Buffy and Anya were seated behind her on the sofa, while the younger Andrew wandered aimlessly around the room as they talked. Dust's Andrew had dropped himself silently in a recliner as soon as they arrived and was staring fixedly at his younger self's wanderings. He looked worryingly tired and ill.

"Other people?" Buffy asked.

"Other people. I really don't know whether I should mention..."

She sighed. "Okay, fine. And then?"

"Well, me and Andrew and... another person finally got a fix on his location and we went after him again. Only the...other person got injured and we went after him ourselves. Unfortunately he'd managed to find and eat an Hourwhether and..."

"An Hourwhether?"

"Uh, yeah. It's a type of demon that..." He glanced anxiously at his companion. "Andrew could probably tell you better..."

Andrew's eyes didn't leave his younger self. "You're doing fine."

Dust frowned at him. "...right. It's a demon that can travel through time and space. So basically, as soon as he'd eaten it Tucker just disappeared back here."

"And you followed how?"

"Well... Andrew?" He looked hopefully at the recliner, but Andrew seemed disinclined to participate. Dust turned back, troubled. "Well, the Hourwhether was actually on this plane because it had given out a mating call and was waiting for another Hourwhether to arrive so they could... well, mate. So the mate turned up and with... a little help we managed to cobble together a spell that meant we could hitch a ride on it back here. Umm. Andrew, are you sure you don't want to..."

"No."

"...tell the story. Right. Okay." Dust gave Buffy a weak smile. "So we came back and tried to find Tucker before he could do anything. Unfortunately, it wasn't that easy. He got to your Andrew before we could. We used... a kind of transference spell to find out where you were and found him there as well."

"And so you ran to distract him and met up with Xander and present Andrew, while your Andrew cooked something up." Buffy looked thoughtful.

"Right."

Willow nodded at Buffy. "The story checks out according to the spell. No spiky red flames at all."

"No chance they could have skewered the results?"

"Not much. This is actually one of the more powerful truth spells out there."

Buffy sighed. "Okay then. Time travel. Yippee. Don't suppose this means that we're guaranteed to survive against the First? "

Willow frowned. "I really wouldn't count on it. Temporal research is a bit foggy on the 'possible future versus definite future' theory when it comes to time travel. They could come from one of squillions of potential futures. Or not. No one really knows."

"Somehow I didn't think it'd be that easy. Pity."

Anya looked interested. "So Andrew summoned that Demoshaemon? That was a pretty good job there."

Buffy turned to the older Andrew. "You were the one who summoned that thing, right?"

Older Andrew dragged his eyes off of himself and blinked at her. He raised an eyebrow and lifted his bandaged arm. "Yes."

She frowned. "Right." Buffy turned back to Dust, who was studying his suddenly monosyllabic companion with deep concern. "Okay, so you say you can track him because Andrew gets some kind of flash of his location whenever he eats a demon."

"That's right."

"In that case, I suggest you tell me pronto if you see anything. If I can get there soon enough maybe I can finally deal with this psycho before he murders someone else."

Younger Andrew looked anxious. "You're not going to kill him?"

"Not if I don't have to. I'll disable him and then we can figure out a way to send you all back to where you belong."

Dust looked a little more optimistic at this. "That shouldn't be a problem. An Hourwhether has to recharge for about a week after a jump, so the one we used will still be in the area. We can do the same ritual we did to get here."

Anya looked interested. "Does that mean that Tucker won't be able to jump into another time for a week too?"

"Good point, actually." Dust turned to the recliner again. "Andrew, Tucker won't be able to..."

"That's right."

"...okay." He glanced at Buffy, Anya and Willow apologetically. "Guess not."

"Right." Buffy stood up. "That does, however, mean that you two are going to be here for at least a week."

"Umm. Yes."

"You're going to need protection."

"We can look after ourselves, " Dust protested.

"With him in that state?"

"Okay, not right at the moment."

"I can't split up my group. I need people at the house to look after the potentials. If I'm going to offer you any protection it'll have to be there."

Dust looked pained. "I was afraid you were going to say that. Look, we'd really like to avoid it if possible because we just don't know the damage it might do. If we have to go there, though, do you think you could not mention the whole time travelling thing? At least not to the potentials? The less people the better, in fact."

Buffy nodded. "It might be better if we could do that. Though Andrew does look like... well, Andrew."

Young Andrew perked up. "We could say he's a really close cousin of mine that you nicely decided to help."

She sighed. "Not exactly that convincing, but something like that should do."

There was a pensive silence as several people collected their thoughts and Willow finished off the truth spell. The younger Andrew took this chance to wander over to his older self.

"Hi."

Older Andrew looked at him. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. "Hi."

Young Andrew rolled awkwardly on his heels. "So..." he said.

A raised eyebrow.

"So what's the future like? I mean, just in general terms. Not specifically or anything."

The older Andrew looked at him blankly for a few seconds. Then he said, "Cities have taken over the landscape, there are hover cars everywhere, and people have to have a barcode tattooed onto their neck at birth."

Younger Andrew's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?!"

Older Andrew's face twisted into an expression that was dangerously close to disgust. "No," he said. "Not really."

And then he stood shakily up and walked out of the room while everyone stared.

***********

Dust found him a few seconds later in the bathroom, looking into the mirror.

He glared at his companion. "What the hell was that about?"

Andrew stared sulkily back at his mirror image. "Nothing."

"Nothing. Right. I'm sorry, are you feeling so sick that you can only talk in single words? If so, fine, go sleep somewhere. But I have a feeling that this has nothing to do with how unwell you're feeling."

Andrew stared at himself. Tired, pale, ill. In no state to deal with all of this. He turned around to Dust. "I just... I really don't want to deal with him."

Dust shook his head. "That's all you're worried about. Andrew, you're not that bad. A little hyper maybe, but you're young. I don't know what you're..."

"Didn't you see that? He believed me. He'll believe anything..."

"So you were a little naïve..."

"I was a little stupid."

"Geez, Andrew. There's no need to be so harsh! I don't know what..."

"I don't believe you're sticking up for him. Do you know what he's done?"

Dust crinkled his forehead. "Sticking up...? Andrew, he's you. I think you really do need some rest. You're not making much sense."

Andrew slammed his good hand against the sink and stared uselessly at the bruise that began to form. "You're right. I need rest, and I'm ill, and there's too much happening and I just don't want to be here!"

Dust gently grabbed him by the shoulders. "Okay, I think we need to find you a place to lie down. You're... Andrew?"

Dust started back as Andrew grabbed the edge of the sink and lifted his bandaged hand to his head. His eyes squeezed shut for a few seconds and then he looked up with a certain amount of relief.

Dust suddenly felt a little better. "Tucker?" He asked.

And Andrew nodded. "Tucker. I know where he is."

************