Twice Lucky

Rise of the Watcher

Chapter 4: To be or not to be

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Wesley was beginning to notice something of a trend: every meeting that he'd attended of late, the young man, Xander, had been present. It was almost as though they were waiting for his say-so, although Xander never actually said anything of importance.

It was frustrating, and Wesley wanted nothing more than to stand up and shout: 'Who the bloody hell are you? Why is he here? What purpose does he serve?"

But, it was not his place to do so. At least, not yet, so far he'd been able to gather evidence - but only a little, and not really enough to be able to present to the Council.

He sighed, as the battle with the Master was coming quickly and they needed to prepare. He'd started training with Faith and Diana, and had been told that, apparently, yet another potential was on the way over.

Kendra was to be his own, borrowed from her Watcher to be trained over a full-blown Hellmouth. It would be nice to match wits with her, as she was supposedly Council–approved - meaning she was polite and well–educated and, more importantly, she did as she was told. Unlike Buffy, who challenged his authority every step of the way; and even Faith, to a certain extent.

Still, there was some good news: Angel had come up trumps and provided them with a much-needed weapon - a very large axe, ornately designed for the sole purpose of protecting the Slayer.

The woman, the Watcher's female opposite, had made the weapon many years ago, in preparation for the battle to come with the First Evil; the demon who would, apparently, open the Hellmouth and let all of its minions out onto the Earth.

The woman had taken the girls out on several hunts to test their combat readiness, and had found them somewhat lacking - mainly in skill, rather than brute force. Something that he understood.

They needed training and guidance, and, until they got over themselves, it wouldn't happen. For the moment, though, Wesley hoped that he would survive what was coming.

… … … … … … … … … … … … …

"Blimey," Wesley said with a sigh, removing his glasses and wiped off some of the demon gunk that had just splattered on them. Buffy smirked and placed the large axe down on the table.

"Well, that was certainly interesting."

He agreed; the night had been a busy one. They'd taken out several nests, and some large demons, to boot. Buffy had, as she put it, 'kicked ass.' He had to admit, that the closer they got to the Harvest, the more that the demons were starting to get itchy. And that wasn't a good sign.

Wesley grinned. "At least we know the axe works."

"Sweet as," Buffy smirked back. "Sharp, too. Took that vampire's head clean off."

It had to; the vampires had run like hell when they'd seen her coming. He was carrying a crossbow that Xander had fine–tuned. Xander, apparently, had been trying to figure out a way to configure the crossbows to fire stakes. Now, that would be fun.

The threats that week had been interesting. So far, they'd taken out a mad robot, that had been attracted to Diana, which Willow had taken it home for study; been trapped in their own nightmares - Wesley still winced at that one; and had taken on a rather crazed puppet. Wesley didn't know what to make of it - in all his years of training, he'd never come across anything quite so bizarre. Although, he got the feeling that it was far from over.

… … … … … … … … … … … … …

Marcy was frustrated. No, 'pissed off' would be a more apt choice of words. She'd tried several times to vent that frustration on both teachers and students, at the same time, and each time, she had failed.

She'd tried to take out the Mitch, but had been interrupted by the blonde girl, once again, when she tried to attack the teacher. She'd tried several times to kidnap Cordellia, as well, but, each time, she'd been surrounded by people.

It was as though they knew what she was trying to do; friends surrounded her at all times. Marcy would sit in the corner of the school corridor and cry for hours at end. Sometimes, the odd student would stop and she would look up in hope that someone had spotted her, but alas: No. The student would mumble something about Sunnydale weirdness and walk off.

Xander Harris had been walking down the corridor - an empty corridor - when the hyena spirit switched on. There was a presence in the dimly-lit corridor. It was starting to get dark outside, and he didn't really want to be found out. At least, not yet.

He stood still, letting his senses open up, and there was the odd sensation. Suddenly. the world was his oyster: he could smell the cafeteria, where the new cook was dishing out food - this one, a bit wearier, as the last one had had a nasty accident. Xander grinned at the fond memory, and, while he didn't consider himself a murderer, he did have a little bit of blood lust. He was still trying to figure out whether it was him or the hyena.

Stopped and staring, Xander could smell fear. And it was then, that he spotted her. Well, not her, per say, as she was invisible. When the Feds had caught her, in the previous timeline, they'd never found out what had happened to her - whether or not she had been trained or simply bumped off. But an invisible girl would be an interesting and useful ally.

Marcy looked up and realised that it was starting to get dark; even she didn't hang around the school at night- it was too damned scary. She saw him standing in the middle of the corridor; he'd lifted his nose slightly and sniffed.

Like a dog?

He looked around for a moment and then seemed to pinpoint her location, and he didn't look at her. But, rather, at her. It was confusing; he seemed to know she was there, but he couldn't necessarily see her. Story of her life.

And then he walked off.

She didn't resume crying, but instead, maintained a small amount of hope that, maybe, she wasn't as invisible as she thought.

… … … … … … … … … … … … …

Twice, in one week, Xander had provided intelligence that they had, otherwise, not been able to get. This, more than anything, surprised Wesley, as he had not thought the young man to be a fountain of information, much less useful information, and yet…

He'd conscripted the blonde–haired, Harmony; the very tasty, Cordellia; Buffy; and, even Faith; to go to school and keep busy, one Amy Madison, chatting about this and that; general crap. Meanwhile, Xander had disappeared.

It had been a simple case of distraction, letting himself into the house and finding the protective spells. Xander closed his mind and let the spirit take care of the rest; the spells were dissolved into nothingness and Amy's mother was kept in the dark.

He found Amy sitting in the laundry room, crying into a hanky. He'd stepped into the room and watched her sob uncontrollably.

Xander walked over and gently pulled the woman into his arms. Amy had been surprised, at first, but had found nothing but warmth and care in those brown eyes. He pulled her to him and held her, as tears ran freely down her cheeks. Next, he kissed her deeply, letting their tongues dance in each others' mouths; and he had taken her - there on the floor - bringing her to a climax that she hadn't really experienced before.

For Xander, it was easy. He remembered all the little tricks he'd learned from Faith, and, even Willow. Putting them into practice, Amy had grunted and groaned, finally letting go and feeling satisfied. He kept her like that for a moment, before pulling himself out of her grip. He got her up, and dressed appropriately, before flipping open a recent purchase - a mobile phone - and dialling Giles.

"We're ready." Xander stood back and waited a moment.

… … … … … … … … … … … … …

Wesley looked at the young, blond-haired girl - not Buffy, but Amy, herself - her real self. She had been changed drastically, now living with Xander and Faith at Xander's house, and was open, chatty and intelligent - something Wesley could appreciate. She was also a very accomplished witch; something that they were taking full advantage of.

Wesley sighed as he thought about the battle: it would be the next night and he, most certainly, wasn't looking forward to it.

… … … … … … … … … … … … …

Marcy found the first package sitting in her little 'room,' neatly placed on top of what looked like new blankets and, yes, even a pillow. It was like Christmas, as she pulled the basket over and ripped the Clingfilm off.

She grinned when she pulled out a CD player- still in its box - proving that it was brand new. Next, were CD's themselves, as well as books, magazines and some Oreos. She loved their chocolaty goodness.

She grinned and sat back, hugging the pillow, tears of relief falling down her cheeks.