Thanks to Prophetess Of Hearts, Red2, Fairy Dragon, KeeperoftheSnoopyDance (really clever pen name by the way), becks89, and ManiacPlea for reviews.
No worries Fairy Dragon, being a gay-friendly person I had planned on keeping Willow gay. I hope to find a girlfriend for her that reminds us of Tara, because like you becks89, I thought she rocked and they made such a cute couple. sniffle I miss Tara. I won't bring her back from the dead though because I believe Willow has learned her lesson from bringing back Buffy and I believe she loves Tara too much to tear her away from her peaceful rest. It would be the noble thing to do. Now I just want to ask you guys, how should I get rid of Kennedy? Should I turn her evil or just into a jerk (which she already is but more so)? Input from you, my readers, would be greatly appreciated.
Buffy wearily trudged into the room she was sharing with her sister and collapsed onto one of the double beds. She looked over at the other bed and saw that her sister was sleeping soundly. She idly wondered how much accumulated sleep they had all gotten over the past few weeks. She was betting it wasn't very much. Such was the way of the Scoobies.
She kicked off her shoes and snuggled under the covers. Despite how exhausted she was, sleep evaded her. Her last words to Spike had been "I love you," and his reply was anything but expected.
No, you don't. But, thanks for saying it.
Perhaps she hadn't loved him in the way she had loved Angel. No one she had encountered yet had ever been able to match the febrile passion she had harbored once for her former lover. But Buffy had cared for Spike a great deal. He had proved to be a stalwart and true friend to her at her darkest moments. He had remained loyal to her and he had remained supportive when her friendsseemed to have lost faith in her ability to protect them.
She did love him, she decided. She loved him like she loved Xander, as a friend, comrade, and brother. That was all her love for Spike could ever amount to.
The pain his death caused her cut deeply and Buffy knew the pain would never truly dissipate. Neither would the pain of her mother's death, or Tara's death or Anya's death or all those innocent young girls that had been killed before and during the last battle.
At least you all are in a better place now. You get to enjoy the peace that I had for a little while. You guys deserve that much.
On the bed next to her, her sister was having similar insomnia-inducing thoughts.
Dawn had been lying still under the covers on her bed, trying as hard as she could to quiet the loudness of her mind so she could sleep. She kept replaying the scenes from earlier today. The girl still remembered the sheer terror she had felt when she and Xander had been assailed by Turok-Hans and her heart still pounded with floating relief when they had burst into flames under the unforgiving rays of the sun. It was all over; Sunnydale and its multitude of evils were gone...hopefully, for good this time.
Yet, the feelings within her were bittersweet over the entire ordeal. She was glad to finally be delivered from the throes of evil, but she was saddened over the loss of the town that held all of her real memories. Sunnydale was technically the first place she had lived and it was where she found out who, or rather, what, she truly was.
Her mother's grave had resided in one of the numerous cemeteries. Her sister had died and risen from her coffin in that town. Dawn even experienced her first kiss, which, had been a wondrous experience, though it was tainted by the fact that it was to a vampire. That place held so many memories; happy and painful. It all seemed so surreal to her that it was now just a big hole in the ground.
Rest in peace Mom, Spike, Tara, Anya, and all you slayers that died fighting. I hope you guys are somewhere better than here.
Both sisters knew that even though there were probably hundreds of slayers all over the world, Buffy couldn't just try to salvage what remained of the life she had before she became the Slayer. Xander, Willow, Dawn, and even some of the newly called slayers wouldn't be able to either. The Scooby gang had all seen and endured so much over the last seven years that reverting back to normal life was simply out of the question. They would have to go and find those slayers and let themin on the dark secrets of the world.
And just because the biggest, baddest evil of them all had been defeated, it didn't mean evil was banished from the earth completely. There would always be some new foe to vanquish, unfortunately.
They could beat back the First, they could destroy its minions and obliterate its plans at world domination, but they could not destroy the entity itself. It was the true, everlasting embodimentof pure evil. It had existed as long as there had been existence, providing the balance in the world.Even if the First could be destroyed, doing so could result in dire consequences for it would disrupt the balance of the natural order.
So, as goodness and pureness would never completely go away, neither would evil. And it was their duty to make sure evil did not try to overrun the earth. With the many girls who had just been handed the mantle of the Slayer, they could literally create an army to protect the world.
Dawn finally resigned herself to not getting any sleep while so many thoughts were whizzing about in her brain. She sighed and sat up to look over at her sister's bed.
"Buffy? Are you awake?" she asked in a loud whisper.
"No," was the blonde's grunting reply.
Dawn smiled. "Liar," she snickered.
"I'm just talking in my sleep," Buffy joked as she sat up in her bed.
Dawn snorted and threw a spare pillow at her sister. With years of honed slayers skills to back her up, Buffy's hand shot out and snatched the pillow right out of midair. Of course, it was far easier to catch a pillow in midair than a razor sharp knife being thrown at her face. Her first watcher, Merrick, had decided to prove that she was the Slayer by throwing a very sharp knife right at her head. Why hadn't he just thrown a pillow? Girls ruled when it came to pillow fights.
"I can't sleep either," Dawn said.
"I know. It all hasn't really sunk in yet. We turned Sunnydale into a big sinkhole. That's gotta be some new record for me. The last couple apocalypses, a couple buildings and streets were destroyed. I never leveled a whole town before," Buffy remarked in a slightly awed voice.
"Yeah. and you're like death on schools too. You burned down the gym in LA and you blew up the first Sunnydale High and you sunk the second one. Principals are gonna think twice about hiring you now," Dawn said.
Buffy snorted. "True."
"What are we gonna do now? Are we gonna go out looking for all the new slayers? Or are we staying here to help Angel?" Dawn queried.
"I don't know. I'm leaning towards going and finding those slayers. But we will have to talk to Giles in the morning about it. He's probably gonna recruit new watchers to rebuild the council. Hopefully a better council than the last one," Buffy said with just the tiniest hint of bitterness in her voice.
Dawn brightened at that idea. She hadn't been too fond of the last Watchers Council either. Of course, she felt bad that they all got blown up, but they had been jerks. Plus she had recently developed the interest in being a watcher. Having spent a lot of time around slayers and a lot of time in the field and researching different baddies, she felt she was more than qualified.
"Well," Buffy said while yawning,lying back down on the bed. "I'm worn out. I think I can get to sleep now. We'll figure this all out in the morning." She turned over and pulled the comforter closer to her small body.
Dawn followed suit and soon enough the two were out like lights.
Aidan Firewell sat on the balcony outside his bedroom overlooking the rocky interior of the valley their manor was nestled in. His hand was absentmindedly stroking his pet phoenix, Jinx, whom also belonged to Jordan. She had been a gift to the two of them when they were born by their godparents.
The mystical bird had been his source of comfort during the months of Jordan's absence. He had spent many a sleepless night just petting her and she would sing for him sometimes, which would always cheer him up. That was why he loved phoenixes so much.
He had been grappling with strange sensations and emotions all day that did not particularly belong to him. Therefore, he was willing to bet all his galleons thatthey had something to do with his twin.
Jordan had left over four months ago just shortly after her watcher had been murdered by strange beings with slashes over their eyes. Like many other potentials (those that were still alive), she had flocked to Sunnydale to help the currentVampire Slayer battle against an entity known as the First Evil.
When her watcher had been killed, Jordan had managed to fight off her attackers using her wand and therefore had survived. Two days later, a man named Rupert Giles showed up at their doorstep. Though he was a Muggle, he was a watcher and had knowledge of the Wizarding world. He had told the Firewell family that an ancient evil called the First had been ordering its minions, the Bringers, to kill off potential slayers and their watchers. He also told them that all the potentials that he could find were going to the hellmouth in southern California where the current slayer lived.
She was preparing for war on the First and needed all the help she could get. So, naturally, Jordan went along for the ride, much to Aidan's chagrin. Their parents were reluctant to let her go, understandably. But, they knew it was crucial as many potentials as possible were placed under the Slayer's protection and it was also crucial she obtained all the reinforcements she could muster to combat the First.
Four months she had been out of school fighting on the hellmouth sending a letter or two every week just to keep them updated on her status and the status of the fight. They couldn't use their owl because she would be in the presence of Muggles. So, they improvised; she had sent letters by Muggle mail to a friend of theirs who was Muggle-born and he in turn sent the letter to them. They did the same when replying to her letters. Though it was less efficient than owl post, it was the only way they could keep in contact with her without actually going to Sunnydale themselves. And she had strictly forbade that.
They hadn't received any word from her at all in the past few weeks. Aidan, his parents, and his grandmother along with their friends and teachers at school were really beginning to fear something terrible had happened. The thought alone made Aidan feel sick to his stomach. He could not imagine life without his twin, who was, most undoubtedly, his other half.
She can't be dead. I would know it if she had died. Aidan and Jordan, being of magical kindand having shared a womb, had a very deep and indelible bond. When something happened to one twin, the other would know almost immediately. He or she wouldn't know specifically what had happened, but he or she would know something had happened. Sometimes, when emotions were particularly powerful, it spilled over in one twin's mind and was transmitted to the other twin.
Aidan bolted upright in his seat when he heard the telltale sounds of someone who had just ran into the screen on the fireplace. He could think of no one else who would be flooing to the manor at this time of night and his honey eyeslit up withhope.
His heart pounding fiercely, hoping against hope it was Jordan, he jumped up from his seat and ran downstairs, not caring if his heavy steps awoke his parents or grandmother. Jinx had been way ahead of him.
Sure enough, he heard the familiar voice of his twin sister swearing and kicking the screen on the fireplace.
"Damn screen! As if I need more bruises! Why the hell can't they lower the apparating age?" she yelled angrily at no one in particular.
She kicked it out of her way with a sour look on her face and stepped out of the sooty fireplace while dusting herself off only to get nearly knocked to the ground by someone throwing their arms around her and twirling her around.
"Jordan! You're back!" her twin brother cried happily.
"In the flesh," she choked out, silently thanking Willow for making her a slayer because her brother's grip was deathly tight.
The stairs creaked with the footsteps of the other three human occupants of the household. Jordan looked over her brother's shoulder and smiled at the sight of her father, who had been the first to reach the bottom.
"Daddy!" Jordan cried.
Aidan released her so she could propel herself into her father's arms. After a tearful reunion between father and daughter she was then swooped up by her mother, who was crying profusely in happiness and relief. After Jordan hugged her grandmother, she was crying by now as well. She had not realized how much she had missed her family over thepast four months. Finally being able to touch them and see them was almost making her want to sink down to the ground and cry in supreme relief.
"Merlin's Beard! Look at you, child!" her grandmother screeched in horror when their eyes adjusted to the light.
She looked down at her body as if she could not guess what was upsetting them. Oh, right. The bandages and blood. Maybe I shoulda changed before I got here.
All her injuries were mostly healed, thanks to her potion, but she hadn't removed her blood-soaked bandages and her clothes were stained with blood and dirt, and ripped in several places.
"I just got back from fighting in a battle against Ubervamps," she explained.
Then she added as an afterthought with a casually light voice, "They aren't nice."
"Did you use the potion?" Aidan asked. He had noticed his sister was not moving about like someone who had suffered injuries. If fact, she seemed quite healthy and unharmed, the blood, dirt, bandages, and ripped clothing aside.
She pulled the vial out of her jacket pocket and tossed it to him.
"Worked like a charm almost. It made me really drowsy so I'm gonna have to fix that," she said.
"Oh, honey, how bad were you hurt?" her mother asked.
"Um, I was stabbed right here." She pointed to her lower left abdomen. "Here." She ran her hand over the middle of her back. "In this shoulder and I also got a chunk tore out of it by an Ubervamp." She put her hand over her left shoulder.
"Holy crap," Aidan breathed. "That had to hurt."
Jordan laughed in a slightly manic way. "You have no idea. Luckily, I was too scared to notice the pain very much. It's a wonder what fear will make you forget."
"How come you didn't, you know, like pass out from those wounds? Only a slayer could withstand damage like that and still fight, even then it would be hard," Aidan asked.
Jordan did not answer him, but merely smiled meaningfully and winked at him.
"Merlin, my daughter's the Slayer now," her father said incredulously, but with a note of pride.
"A slayer, Dad. There's more than one now. Actually there has been more than one for a while but now there's more than two," she told them.
"How? If I understand correctly, one of the previous slayers would have to die for another to be chosen," her mother said while smoothing down loose hairs on Jordan's head.
"Not anymore. Buffy and her Wicca friend Willow changed the rules. Now every potential slayer in the world has gone kinetic," Jordan said.
Buffy and Willow were people Jordan had often written about in her lengthy letters. From the way she had written about them, her family knew both women were people Jordan had deeply admired and respected.
"So, Buffy isn't dead?" her father asked.
"Well, first off, Faith, the other slayer I told you guys about, would have to die for there to be a new slayer. And, second off, no, both are alive and well. Or at least alive," Jordan answered.
"So, how did this Wicca turn all potentials into slayers?" her mother inquired with intrigue.
"I'll tell you guys the whole story, trust me. But I'm suffering floolag and battle fatigue and I am feeling really icky. Where's Springer?" Jordan looked around the living room.
Her question was answered by the pitter-patter of tiny house elf feet.
"Miss Jordan! Miss Jordan! Springer is glad to see his little mistress is in one piece. Springer has been worried sick about you," a house elf dressed in an outfit made out of a patchwork quilt squeaked.
He had wrapped his tiny arms around her legs. She bent down and kissed his bumpy forehead and grinned fondly at the creature.
"I missed you too, Springer. Can you start up a bath for me?" she requested.
"Of course! Right away, Little Mistress." He bounded up the stairs.
"I missed that little guy," she said softly, watching him go.
CRACK! The headmistress of Cristallon School of Magic appeared right in the middle of the living room. Jordan jumped back, startled. Having been living around the exclusive company of Muggles for so long, she had become unaccustomed to people just apparating and disapparating. She would give almost anything to be able to do it already, but she and Aidan were not yet seventeen and therefore not of age.
Next January, they could obtain their apparating licenses and kiss their floo powder goodbye. Well, they could kiss it goodbye during the summer vacation because one could not apparate or disapparate on school grounds due to the powerful wards.
Professor Scarlett Tranley was a kind, intelligent witch in her early forties. She had been promoted to headmistress of Cristallon School of Magic in the state of Washingtonfive years ago after working there for ten years as a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Always privy to Jordan's special circumstances, she had allowed for the girl to take an "extended leave of absence" per se from school and use summer vacation to make it all up, provided she did return.
When she noticed Jordan, her mouth turned up into a smile.
"I knew you would get out of there in time. And congratulations, I hear the war is won," the redheaded witch stated in her businesslike tone.
"What are you talking about? What happened, Professor Tranley?" Aidan asked.
"The hellmouth in Sunnydale, California is no more. I am sure Jordan was getting around to telling you about that unless she didn't know about it. But that is not why I am here," Professor Tranley answered primly.
"Oh yeah, I knew about it. I was on the bus when it was imploding. We barely managed to escape," Jordan told them.
"So what brings you here?" Mrs. Firewell asked.
"Wait, wait, wait! Before anyone starts talking, and I don't mean to be rude, Professor, but I need some-thank you Grandma!" she exclaimed as her grandmother entered the living room with a platter of warm chocolate-chip cookies.
"I knew you were going to get to these sooner or later. You've earned it," the old woman said proudly.
Aidan and Jordan instantly helped themselves to their yummy chocolate therapy. Jordan could not believe she was able to go four whole months without her grandmother's famous cookies, or cooking for that matter. As soon as she had wolfed down about half the platter she gestured for the headmistress to go on.
Professor Tranley shook her head and smiled at the girl.
"I was recently visited by Professor Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Scotland. He came to see me right after he had received a very interesting letter from one of his students," she stated.
"The Professor Dumbledore? As in the only one that Voldemort was afraid of?" Jordan asked incredulously.
"And isn't Hogwarts the school Harry Potter goes to?" Aidan queried.
"Yes, both are correct. I assume you have not been told of the recent events over in Britain, but we shall get to that later. I have been corresponding with him ever since I became headmistress. I had met him on a vacation in Britain and your name came up in conversation. I told him you were a potential slayer, since it was such an oddity. I also told him that you had been aiding the current slayer with her fight against the First Evil at the Hellmouth in Sunnydale and the story of how many potentials the world over were being killed by minions of the First," she said.
The Firewell family were all now situated on the assorted couches and loveseats in the large living room with their eyes riveted to the stately witch.
"Well, it would seem that earlier today a witch who attends Hogwarts and happens to be a friend of Harry Potter's had had some rather disturbing dreams. Dreams that involved dozens of girls fighting strange vampiric creatures with swords, axes, and stakes. And she had also mentioned something about feeling very strange and empowered. This girl, who is your age, Jordan, wrote to Professor Dumbledore about this and after receiving the letter he apparated to my house to learn more of the situation on the Hellmouth. I was wondering if you would be able to shed some light on this situation," Professor Tranley intoned.
Jordan chewed her cookies while she mulled over what Professor Tranley had told them. She was obviously very tired because it took a minute for her to figure out what the professor was getting at.
"Holy crap! She's a slayer too!" she practically shouted.
"Yes, I had gathered that, but how? Did one of the current slayers die?" the headmistress asked seriously.
"No, no, no. Buffy, the older current slayer, had her friend Willow, who is a Wicca, do a spell that activated all potentials in the world. It was basically the only way our tiny army could havestood a chance against those Turok-Han vampires. So, now there are like hundreds of newly called slayers out there instead of the standard one and only," Jordan explained.
Professor Tranley nodded in understanding.
"I see. Well, this certainly changes things," she replied in an extremely thoughtful tone.
"Yeah. I am so grateful to that Wicca, I would hate to have to fight evil all alone. I totally pity Buffy for having to put up with that. Must have sucked," Jordan said.
She stood up and stretched and prepared to go up to take her bath. Unfortunately, Professor Tranley was not quite finished with her yet.
"Jordan, I am afraid I have some news that you probably will not like. I believe your family wanted to spare you until tomorrow, but I feel the sooner you know, the better. As a witch and a slayer you are going to, quite possibly, play a crucial role."
Oh, this can't be good. Anytime I playcrucial role it ends up being really painful.
The headmistress took a deep breath before saying the words that caused Jordan's legs to become nothing but jelly.
"The dark lord Voldemort had risen again."
Jordan's honey-colored eyes had widened to near double their usual size and she almost dropped her empty, crumb-strewn platter. Her face paled quite noticeably, which was a mean feat since she already boasted a fair complexion. She spoke not a word, but sank down onto the couch because her legs had promptly decided they were tired of keeping her upright.
Professor Tranley continued on in an obviously annoyed tone, "Apparently, he had risen last year, but the Ministry of Magic in Britain led by that idiot, Fudge, refused to believe it and kept it all under wraps. It was only made public due to a skirmish at the ministry a couple weeks ago involving our new slayer-witch, Harry Potter, his other friends, and the dark lord. Now, all of the wizarding world knows."
Jordan shakily sat back down and put her head between her kneesto stimulate the bloodflow back into her brain.
No! No! No! I just got back from fighting a battle! Why did you have to come back you stupid snake-crazy asshole! Why? Oh, Merlin, I think I'm gonna be sick.
Terror and nausea assailed her mercilessly and she struggled to maintain at least a small amount of control over herself.
When Voldemort had been at large fifteen years ago, he had concentrated most of his battles in Europe; Great Britain to be precise. America had been left alone and with good reason. Voldemort did not want to trifle with a nation of witches and wizards of whom the bulk of the population were derived from Muggle ancestry. In order to keep themselves out of the war, the Minister of Magic of the time had issued a neutral stance towards the war; though they were partial to the cause against Voldemort.
Most Americans, not willing to get embroiled in a conflict thousands of miles away, were fine with it. After all, being of the continent and hemisphere with the most virulent hellmouths, they had quite a barrage of their own problems to deal with.
However, many American Aurors felt it was their duty to help their magical brothers and sisters in the fight against this macabre wizard. With the experience of fighting hellmouth-centered creatures to back them up, they formed a powerful allying force to the British cause. Jordan had lost many aunts, uncles, cousins, and other relatives, and her parents had lost many friends to Death Eaters. Her own grandfather, Christopher Firewell, a world renown Auror had been brutally tortured and murdered by Death Eaters when she and her twin were not yet over half a year old.
"Jordan? Are you alright?" her brother asked worriedly.
"Yeah, just give me a minute. I think I need some more cookies," she said weakly. Or a strong drink.
"Um, you ate them all," he told her.
"Shit," she muttered.
"Miss Jordan! Miss Jordan! Your bath is ready!" Springer announced, unaware of the shift in the atmosphere from jubilation to dread.
"She'll be up there in a minute Springer!" Aidan yelled back.
"I know this news is rather shocking, but I swear to you it is the truth. I would hardly make something like this up. I will arrange for Dumbledore to meet us here with his student as soon as possible. We might need to propose an alliance between the Wizarding World and the Slayers. Dumbledore says this reign might be worse than Voldemort's last. We need all the firepower we can muster," Professor Tranley informed her.
"Thank you, Scarlett. Care for a drink?" Jordan's grandmother inquired.
"No thank you, Elizabeth. I must be going," the headmistress replied curtly with an appreciative smile.
She turned her dark eyes on her distressed pupil with an apologetic expression upon her face.
"It is nice to see that you have survived this battle, Jordan. I am sorry you might be pulled into another one. You must be exhausted," she said kindly, resting her hand on Jordan's non-bloody shoulder.
"Yeah, well, I guess it would be too much to hope that defeating the First would get rid of all evil. Oh well," she put her palms up in the gesture of defeat.
The Professor smiled at that and then she disapparated with a CRACK!
Jordan sat there in contemplative silence, the weight of her recent revelations bearing heavily down on her. She rubbed at her eyes and sighed desparingly. What a brilliant way to ruin her homecoming.
"I'm taking my bath now," she announced to her family, her tone far less cheerful than it had been before.
In the bathroom, Jordan peeled off her ruined clothes and relaxed herself into the nice, hot water. For the moment, she could just let all the problems outside the white-tiled walls drift away. She heard a rustling of feathers and saw Jinx perched on the towel rack.
"Oh, Jinx! I didn't forget about you, sweetie! It was just everything was so hectic when I got back. You must've been up here waiting for me girl."
Jordan stroked the rich gold plumage on the beautiful phoenix and spoke softly to her.
"It's been a very weird day, Jinx. Even weirder than the time Aidan and I kept stinging ourselves with Billywigs in Australia. I hope you kept the family morale up while I was gone," she told her.
"And I'm gonna be needing some of that morale now. You heard, I assume, about Voldemort's return. I bet Grandpa's rolling over in his grave at that one," she said sardonically.
Jordan lie there in her half-sleeping state, letting the steamy water soak away all the blood, sweat, dirt, and stress before she bolted upright.
"Damn! I left my bag in the fireplace!"