Title: From Here to Serenity
Author: Bastard Snow
Rating: PG-13

Summary: Buffy's fall through Glory's portal took her somewhere nobody had ever imagined. Now, it's up to Willow and Xander to get her back.

Disclaimer: I don't own either of these.

Author's Notes: Much, much thanks to Drake, without whom this story would not exist. Also, obviously, thanks to Joss Whedon for coming up with two universes that have nothing to do with each other. Makes it a challenge to make them have everything to do with each other.

Feedback: Yes, please!

Just prior to the closing of the primary Hellmouth in Sunnydale, Willow Rosenberg, possibly the strongest witch since Merlin, activated the entire line of Slayers. Potentials Slayers across the globe became Slayers, had responsibilities they had never known, never asked for, thrust upon them. Some didn't handle it very well. But most accepted their destinies and joined the battle against the forces of evil.

It was a powerful blow for the side of light.

One year later, when the Los Angeles branch of Wolfram and Hart rebelled against the rest of the firm and took out the Circle of the Black Thorn, evil pushed back, and pushed back hard. A war was fought like had never been seen since the original demons were expelled from Earth.

New weapons were created, and though some tried to stop it, most people didn't see the need to differentiate between the demons that were evil and those that were neutral. Whole communities were wiped out on both sides, and the fight was just getting harder.

The death tolls were high. More than a third of the Earth's population, almost two and a half billion, had been wiped out by demonic forces. Another billion were dying because of disease. There was nowhere to put the bodies. Man was losing the battle for Earth.

And so, fight-or-flight instincts in full effect, man did what only he could do. He flew. Ingenuity was at an all-time high, and the most urgent necessity was to get as far away from Earth as quickly possible. Within a generation, the secret to faster-than-light travel was not only cracked, it was implemented.

The technology and expertise came from America, the labor from China. The two cultures were forced to blend, and by doing so created an entirely new power dynamic that lasted no more than ten years.

Lasted until Earth was all but abandoned.

Nineteen ships the size of large islands were constructed as fast as possible, and when the time came, more than three hundred million people fled Earth, with food and water for only a few weeks. Breeding stock and seeds were brought to begin life anew on whatever planet they could find.

They were very lucky.

The fleet's first stop was a success. A small star, a few tens of light years from Earth and not too dissimilar from man's native Sol, had an orbiting planet that was almost perfect, but for one thing.

There was not enough land for everyone.

The various leaders of all the factions gathered aboard one ship to decide who would get the planet. After almost a day of arguing (things were expedited because of the food and water constraints) they left it to chance. Straws were drawn, and six of the nineteen ships landed. Those six gave up a large portion of their food and water stores, in the hopes that they could soon replenish them.

The rest moved on.

Over the next few weeks, more and more habitable planets were found. More ships left the fleet and gave up their food until, almost two months after they had left, the last two ships set down on a planet, ready to call it home.

Things were calm for years. The human race adapted to its new situation, and adapted well. Commerce began between the planets, as some were found to be rife with certain elements that others lacked. Societies developed by planet, rather than countries with artificial borders. And everyone had space to live.

Sixty years after the first human being had set foot on a new world, the loose confederation of planets was gearing up for war; not with each other, but with the demons of Earth. They had not forgotten their brethren they left behind, and they meant to rescue them.

An armada of more than seventy ships, armed to the teeth, left the confederate worlds headed for Earth, intent on liberating her. Only one was ever heard from again.

Three months after the fleet left, one ship returned. It held only demons, ready to deal. The heads of each planet gathered. They were shown video of the human attack on the demons – it failed utterly. The demons gathered together and destroyed the human fleet like it was made up of so many gnats.

After cries for vengeance died down, the ruling parties debated, yelled, and dealt. Then, with one voice, declared that all attempts to contact Earth were to be halted. All attempts to save Earth were hereby officially ended. The human race – what was left of it – turned its back on its home planet, and looked to the stars.

But this was not enough. Systematically, they began removing any references to Earth's location in the sky. Books were burned, information wiped. The process was long and arduous, but the heads of state were determined to allow no error.

For if man ever again ventured to Earth, the demons would come, and they would spare nobody. This was the price they paid. The life of the human race… for Earth. The rulers of the day joined together, formed an Alliance, and vowed never to let man discover Earth, ever again.

But the toll was greater than just knowledge. Millions of men and women had gone to their deaths to liberate Earth, and they could not be easily replaced. Some of the smaller planets were in dire straits, and refugees flooded to the larger planets. This became known as the Core.

The outlying planets, or the Rim, were reduced to frontier. Those who stayed lived a simpler, but harder life. Man's exploration of the galaxy stopped. People on the fringes of known space suffered hardship after hardship, and became almost feral. Stories of cannibalism and violent death spread to the Core, and the fringe folk were given a new name: Reavers.

Time passed, and people's memories faded. The reasons for leaving Earth had been erased, and were forgotten within a few generations. Centuries passed, and man gained a true foothold in the region.

Throughout that time, only one group knew the truth. One group of people had devoted themselves to study and faith, and were officially sanctioned by the Alliance as the keepers of history. They alone knew the truth about Earth, and they alone knew how dangerous it was to try to return.

They were the Watchers, and they were afforded numerous unique privileges within the Alliance. They had to be; else they could not keep man from rediscovering his past.

The leaders of what was now a religious order were quick to quell anything that might endanger the treaty with the demons. It was why the Alliance was so strict. It was why the Independents could not be allowed to strike out on their own.

And now, for the first time in almost four hundred years, a small ship with eleven people, including two displaced in time, one watcher and a crazy girl, were heading for Earth.

It was not a journey to be undertaken lightly.

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Willow sat back in her chair, stunned. But Xander was angry.

"Wait, they just gave up? They turned tail and said 'Sure, go ahead, keep our planet'? That sucks!"

"History is often not to our liking, and many people thought as you do," Book explained. "That is why the Watchers were the only group allowed to keep the knowledge. That is why we protect it. If man ever went back to Earth, we would be destroyed. It is why I voted against going to rescue your friend."

"You what?" Willow asked.

"I apologize, but it was the right decision. In fact, I would ask that you reconsider your journey… although, from what I've read of you, I imagine that request will be in vain."

"Got that right," Xander muttered.

"You must understand," Book pleaded. "If we're caught, if we're traced back here, the demons could mobilize and begin slaughtering the human race."

"We'll think about it," Willow said. "But, Shepherd… do you really think we should have given up Earth?"

"Had I been alive at that time… no. But I wasn't, and now it is my job to protect the human race."

"Maybe the human race could use a good kick in the ass," Xander suggested.

"Perhaps," Book allowed. "But at what price?"

Willow stood up. "I'm sorry, Shepherd. We need some time to talk about this. Do you mind…"

"Not at all." Book rose to his feet and moved to the door. "Please, though. Think about what I've said?"

After Book left, Xander and Willow took a couple of hours alone to research the 'hands of blue' demons and, more importantly, digest the more personal information Book had dropped on them. Willow attempting to destroy the world. Xander losing his eye. Tara dying. Spike becoming Buffy's lover and confidante.

Xander had three things on his to-do list for upon their return to Sunnydale. In order: hug absolutely everybody in the gang and make sure they knew he loved them; find whoever it was that killed Tara and beat the shit out of them for things they were thinking about doing; find some way to foist Spike off on Angel or, barring that, make certain Spike knew that he needed to leave Sunnydale and never, ever return.

In fact, that last bit was a good idea anyway.

Book had explained that pretty much everything that happened; the activation of the Slayers, the attack by the First Evil, all of that, was caused by the resurrection of Buffy. However, since Buffy hadn't died in their universe, they would presumably be safe from all of those horrors.

Or so Xander hoped. He was willing to risk the consequences.

"Look," Willow said. Xander glanced up from the book he was… well, not reading, but staring at, anyway.

"What?" Xander asked. He stood and looked over her shoulder. Willow tapped the screen. "Harlanios demons," Xander read. "Noted having a malleable bone structure making them extremely limber and agile, and impervious to sonic attacks… Sonic attacks? What, they don't run away when someone screams at them?"

"There are some spells that disable people with loud, high pitched sounds," Willow explained.

"Oh. That makes… a lot more sense. Okay… blah blah blah, very calm, blah blah, extremely similar external physiology to humans, excepting their blue hands, which make them relatively easy to pick out. Sure, but not as easy as if they had horns. Blah blah, usually travel in pairs."

"Sounds like it?"

"Yeah." Xander was still reading the entry. "Oh fun. They've got lots of stamina. I love it when it takes a crapload of damage to take a demon down. That's so rare, except for how it's extremely common. I hate these things." He paused, and read some more. "Named for Harlan Ellison? What?"

"I dunno. Either somebody's paying tribute, or somebody really didn't like him."

Xander sat back down on the bed. "Does that thing say how to kill them?"

Willow shook her head. "Doesn't say anything. You know what that means."

Xander nodded. "Hack it to pieces." He pulled a bastard sword out of the bag he had stowed under his bed. "How glad am I that Giles made me bring this?"

"Pretty glad."

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Xander called. Captain Reynolds slid the door open, then took a startled step backwards as Xander attached the leather sheath over his shoulder and swung the sword up.

"Whoa," Captain Reynolds said. "Um. We're about twenty minutes from landin' on this mining outpost, just thought you might like to know. What's with the hardware?"

Xander grinned and sheathed the sword. "Call it a little bit of insurance."

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The mining colony was bathed in a darkness that, despite being almost midnight local time, and the entire colony being underground, felt unnatural. Built on a cold, lifeless rock not fit for human habitation, the Alliance had put down a colony anyway and shipped prisoners out here to get them the metals they needed to continue operating.

Serenity sat on a smallish landing pad, one of six in the entire colony. She was almost a kilometer beneath the surface of the planet.

A city had been carved out of the earth. Homes and offices looked more like cave dwellings than actual buildings, and the whole place just felt alien. But Mal found himself more disturbed by the ceiling than by anything else.

When he looked up, he couldn't see the sky.

Xander approached the captain from behind. "You seem nervous."

Mal turned to look at him, and nodded. "Yeah. Reckon I am, a mite. Wash and Jayne are off gettin' some extra fuel to top us off. Should be back any time now."

"Do you think something's going to happen?" Xander asked.

"Can't rightly say. Somethin' about this place… don't feel right." He turned to Xander again. "And do you have to wear that thing all the damn time? Makes me nervous."

Xander grinned and patted the sword that was still strapped to his back. "Just in case we get into a fight with those hands-of-blue guys."

"Whatever you say." Mal pulled his pistol form his hip holster. "I find this does just fine."

Xander pointed to an approaching vehicle. "I think that's them." 'The Mule' as they called their utility vehicle, was pretty easy to spot.

"Yep, should be." Mal holstered his gun. The little cart pulled up to the ship, and Wash and Jayne began unloading the fuel. "All right," he said, turning around, "I'm gonna go make sure Kaylee –"

"Captain," Xander said. Mal turned to see him pointing out into the distance. Another car was fast approaching.

"Oh, now, why isn't anything ever simple? You two almost done down there?"

"One more," Wash said, as Jayne ejected an empty fuel cell.

"Well hurry it up a bit." Mal leaned over and pressed the intercom. "Zoë, I know this ain't your job, but please do me a kindness and get us ready to take off. As in, right now."

Mal watched in anticipation as the car got closer and closer. "Jayne…"

"Almost done here, Mal."

Wash hopped back on The Mule and pulled it into the cargo bay. "I'll just go help Zoë."

The car was five hundred feet away.

"Done!" Jayne called. He flung the last cell to the ground.

"Well quit blabbin' about it and get back on the damn ship." Mal slammed a red button and the airlock began to close. Jayne ran inside as Mal and Xander stood there, waiting for the doors to close. Xander pulled his sword from the sheath and placed it behind his leg, mostly out of sight.

The car screeched to a halt and two men wearing dark suits all but exploded from it. They had blue hands. Mal and Xander backed away as the two men sprinted for the ship. They leapt onto the rapidly rising ramp.

"Too late," Mal whispered.

But they weren't. Somehow, their bodies seemed to compress, and they both slipped between the closing doors and onto the ship. Mal's eyes were wide with disbelief.

"That's impossible!"

"Captain, that's not even improbable."

"Good afternoon," the first one said, straightening out his tie. "We were afraid we wouldn't make it in time to… catch you."

Mal frowned. He heard a laugh from beside him, and turned to see that Jayne was also looking at Xander oddly.

The boy shrugged. "It was funny. Gotta respect a man who knows how to pun."

"Please," continued the second, ignoring them all, "we mean you no harm. We only wish to retrieve two fugitives on your ship."

"And who might they be?" Mal asked.

"River Tam and her brother, Simon Tam," said the first.

"Don't know 'em," Mal said.

"We are certain they are aboard, and will tear this ship apart to find them," said the second.

"Over my dead body," Mal said.

"If need be," said the first.

With a quick motion, Mal drew his gun and shot the first one in the gut. He grasped his stomach and fell to the floor as Mal trained his gun on the second, and heard Jayne doing the same. "You don't wanna join your friend there, you might wanna get off my boat."

"Uh, Cap'n?" Jayne said. "He supposed to be doing that?"

Mal turned his head again, and saw that the first one was rising to his feet again. There was a spot of what he would swear was blue liquid staining his shirt, but he seemed generally unfazed. He stood, slipped out of his now-ruined jacket and cracked his neck.

"That," said the second, "was not wise."

The two leapt simultaneously, one at Jayne and one at Mal. Both men fired at the same time, to no visible effect. Mal dropped his gun as the man – and he was no longer certain that was an appropriate label – attacked. It swung a blue fist at him, and though Mal dodged, the fist seemed almost to stretch. It hit him anyway, sending him flying to the floor.

He was just tensing for the kick to the stomach that was so obviously coming, when a flash of metal appeared for just a moment, and then the creature's – Mal was calling it that because of the blue blood now leaking from it – the creature's head flew off, and it fell limply onto Mal's body.

He quickly pushed it off to see what was going on and, as a not insignificant detail, so the blue blood wouldn't get all over him. Though it was a little late for that.

Mal sat up and saw his passenger holding his sword out between himself and the second creature. Jayne had backed away from the fight – possibly a first for him, but he had a bruise growing on his neck where long fingers had wrapped around his throat.

"Mal, what's goin' on here?" Jayne asked. Mal heard a clattering behind them as the entire crew showed up, ready to fight.

"Xander!" Willow called out.

But Xander was too busy to respond. He was currently pressing his sword ever closer to the creature in front of him. It had the blade grasped in its hands, blue blood leaking from its palms. Neither was gaining any ground.

Xander kicked his leg out at the creature, connecting with its stomach. The creature backpedaled, then dove in again, trying to take Xander at the knees, but the boy parried the creature's entire body with his sword, side stepping and opening a gash down the thing's back.

Mal suddenly wished Xander had been around for his fight with that jackass, Atherton Wing. But that was neither here nor there.

The creature rolled and came to its feet, decidedly stiffer now, for its injuries. It had obviously not been prepared for this kind of resistance. And why would it? The only swords Mal had seen were at fancy duels. Who would think to travel with one?

Suddenly and inexplicably, a flash of brown hair and a slim body entered his vision and attacked. River, Mal realized, was on the offensive. She lashed out at the creature's head with a kick that sounded painful. She whipped around and hit the thing with the back of her closed fist, forcing it to stumble.

It spun around to her, arms flailing as fast as it could throw them. River dodged every single blow thrown at her, and managed to land a few of her own. She dodged inside the thing's defenses and landed another devastating blow to its head, with force that made Mal cringe.

River switched legs, swung her entire body around and caught the creature's neck between her calf and thigh. She squeezed, and a sickening crack sounded out through the cargo bay.

The creature fell to the ground, dead. Silence reigned for a few moments as everyone took in what had just happened. It was broken, simultaneously, by one simple word, said with awe and reverence by four people.

"Slayer."

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End Chapter 8