The characters are Joss's, not mine. Thanks to pretty much everyone, just on general principle. This is another one of my older stories.
X X X X X
Buffy essentially staggered through school that day; hard not to, seeing how the Master was destined to kill her and there seemed to be no way out of it. She paid even less attention in class than she usually did -- even Xander was more into it today than she was.
Speaking of which: She owed him some kind of attempt at reconciliation, before . . . IT happened. Not that she intended to let it happen anyway, but still, better to be safe than sorry. On the way out of . . . well, one of the classes before lunch . . . she called after him as he walked out ahead of her, not even looking in her direction like she normally did.
He didn't answer. Buffy hadn't really expected him to. So she grabbed his arm, and when he tried to break free, refused to let go.
Not looking at her, Xander said, "Could I have my arm back?" His voice was dripping with bitterness.
"Xander, look, I --"
"I what, Buff? Not only did YOU reject me yesterday, so did my best friend. I'm not much in a mood to have a conversation with you right now. So if you don't mind --"
"Xander --" How could she phrase this? "I didn't mean to hurt you."
"I KNOW that," he answered, "but you did anyway. If it makes you feel any better, blame it on me for being in love with you." Then he jerked his arm loose and stalked off down the hall.
The rest of the day went much the same way. She went upstairs and, in a burst of self-pity, put on the prom dress she was never going to got to wear at the actual Spring fling and checked herself out in the mirror. That was when her mom burst in, alarmed, and pointed out Willow on the news.
That was it. She made noises to mom about going over and consoling Willow, but truth be told, she just couldn't take this any more. Still in the dress, she walked down the streets of Sunnydale and over towards the bus station. Maybe if she wasn't here, then everyone's lives could just get back to normal. Xander could find someone else . . . preferably Willow. Willow could stop having to deal with the horrors of the vampire attackes. Giles could have a life . . . okay, as much of one as he ever had . . .
Buffy couldn't even fool herself. She just didn't want to die.
As she walked, stuck on the self-pity, she didn't even see the guy until she ran into him. "Excuse me," she said as she backed off to move around him . . .
and he got in her way again. Okay, now THIS was annoying. She backed up. Goofy-looking guy, dressed in a loud suit and wearing a hat. Once more Buffy tried to edge past him, and once more she found the way blocked.
"Do you MIND?" she demanded.
"Mind that you're about to abandon your duties? Pardon the expression, but damn right I mind."
"What do YOU know about my duties?"
"Well, let's see. You're the Slayer and you just found out you're going to die tonight, so you decided it might be the right time to take a powder. Am I right so far?" A bit stunned, Buffy nodded yes. "Sorry, sister, I can't let you do that. There's too much left for you to do. You know, I've seen what happens in the future if you take off, and believe you me, it ain't pretty."
"Who are you?"
"Someone you ain't supposed to meet yet. The name's not important; it's what I do that is. I'm kind of an agent of balance; I make sure that neither good nor evil takes the upper hand. Problem is, you split town, a lot of good people, people who aren't supposed to kick the bucket, they're going to go kicking."
"And if I stay, I die."
The guy shrugged his shoulders. "True. But -- look, I can't tell you. But maybe I can show you. Stand still." Then he concentrated. "Sorry. I don't use my powers too often. Guy gets kinda rusty. See you in five!"
Before Buffy could protest, a whirlwindy effect overtook her and she couldn't see a thing. When she finally opened her eyes again, she was standing in Giles' office.
First thing she did was look around. Why would hatguy have sent her here? Looked nomal . . . wait, no it didn't. One of Giles' lamps was missing, for one. there were other changes, subtle ones that she couldn't quite pin down.
And then she found one she could pin down. She blinked twice to make sure she was reading it correctly, but yes, no doubt about it: the date on Giles' desk calendar read January 18, 1999. The day of her 18th birthday -- or what would have been her eighteenth birthday -- nearly a year and a half in the future. Though by the clock, it was actually more like the morning of the 19th --
Suddenly the door opened, and Giles, exhausted and haggard, walked in and stopped in shock when he saw her. "B-Buffy," he said. "This, this -- how did you get back here? I just dropped you off at home not twenty minutes ago."
"You just what?" the Slayer asked. "Giles, is that calendar right?"
He glanced over at it. "Well, no, actually," he said as he flipped the page to the 19th. "Now it is. Why do you ask?"
"The year!" Buffy said. "Is the YEAR right?"
"Yes," Giles answered. "Now, again, why are you asking?"
"And I beat the Master, right? Back in May of 1997, I . . . beat the Master?"
But by now he was too suspicious to answer straight out. "Who are you? Because Buffy Summers -- the real Buffy Summers -- would know the answer. Since you don't -- are you a shapeshifter of some sort? A, a demonic doppleganger?"
"No, I'm Buffy, Giles -- but for me, it's not January '99, it's May of '97."
"Right before you faced off against the Master?"
Buffy nodded. "Yup. Then some weird, goofy-talking guy in a weird hat --" the librarian's eyebrows shot up at this, so Buffy guessed he knew who she was talking about -- "set me here for some reason."
"This explains a few things -- such as your rather sudden change of heart back then. But why did you never tell me?"
Smiling humorlessly, Buffy said, "That's still in my future. Though I guess the future is now, right?" She looked up at the clock. "I don't have much time left here. Mr. Hat said I'd be called back in five minutes."
"I see. Then the answer is yes. You beat the Master."
Buffy took a deep breath, held and released it. "Then I beat the prophecy too." Oddly, Giles said nothing. "Right?" Still no answer. "Right?"
"I can't tell you anything else," he said. "I don't want to -- to change anything. Much as I would DESPERATELY like to --"
"But --" and she couldn't say anything else, as the whirlwindy thing took her and deposited her once again in front of the man with the hat.
"So," he said. "'dja learn anything?"
Buffy said, hesitantly. "I . . . think so . . . was I really in the future?"
"Yes indeed, my good Slayer. You ready to resume your Slayerly duties then? Or are you still determined to beat feet outta this burg?"
"No," she sighed. "I'll do what I have to. After all, the Prophecy PROBABLY doesn't come true."
"Sorry to tell you this, but I can't let you remember your little trip. Can't afford to have the future change, you know; overconfidence'll kill you quick as running away'll kill the town."
"Then what was the point of all this?" Buffy demanded.
"Your decision stands, you just won't know why you changed your mind." Things started getting hazy. "Catch ya later, kid."
Buffy blinked. Why was she here when she should be heading over to Willow's? She had to do the best she could to console her friend before -- before she went to take on the Master. Somehow, she felt strangely confident -- either she would die, or she wouldn't, but either way she had to do her duty and not worry about the future.
"After all," she muttered to herself, "this is why I was chosen. The future is now."
