Author: Cyclone
Feedback: Please be gentle.
Distribution: Gimme credit and a link. Plus, archived at or Just a little bad language.
Spoilers: Anything and everything.
Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Summary: After Halloween, everything changes. Sequel to Blackest Night. Part one of Emerald Flame.
Author's Note: Okay, y'know, the reason Blackest Night was originally a one-shot was because I saw only two ways to expand on it: Green Lantern Xander and Future Knowledge Xander. Both of them had already been done and done well by others, and I didn't want to retread ground already covered, so I intended to leave it as is.
Then I got this idea.
"Ahh, career week," Xander said. "Such utter pointlessness. I wonder if they'll actually get it right this time?"
"You're awfully enthusiastic about this," Willow frowned. "I would've expected you to be raging over the indignities of predicting your future with a multiple choice test."
"And I was," he replied. "The first time around. The difference now is... none of this matters!" he laughed. "I know what's in my future, and no multiple choice survey's going to change that."
"Oh?" Willow brightened up. She'd been trying to get Xander to spill on the future ever since she had accepted that he actually knew it. "Like what?"
"Carpentry," he said with a shrug. He figured there was no harm in it. "Saving the world, one stake at a time."
"What about me?" she asked eagerly.
He didn't answer, and his expression didn't change, but she could see the joy in his eyes die.
Oh, no, she thought mournfully. It must have been something else, something that got between us. She thought back to the list he'd given her before: Cordelia. Angelus. Oz. The Fluke. Faith.
Cordelia. She recoiled at the very thought of Her Majesty, Queen C of Sunnydale High. Whatever it was about Cordelia that had gotten between them, it wasn't on her side of the equation, she was sure of that. After careful reexamination, she was forced to admit that there was a possibility that Cordelia may, in fact, not be irredeemably evil and borderline slay-worthy. A teeny, tiny, highly improbable possibility. And if -- big if, in her mind -- that was the case, she could see how Xander might see it before she did. Mainly because he was a guy, and Cordelia was hot.
Angelus. That was Angel without his soul. Willow could easily picture Buffy's reaction if Angel lost his soul, and at this point, she was also willing to admit that she would probably have sided with Buffy if she weren't so afraid of losing her friendship with Xander.
Oz. Who was Oz? Or did he mean the Wizard of Oz? Australia, maybe? Maybe that was it. Maybe she'd moved to Australia? It seemed a little farfetched, though. Still...
The Fluke. What on Earth was the Fluke? Wasn't that a kind of fish? How could a fish ruin a friendship? Maybe she really liked it, and he was allergic? Or maybe he really liked it, and she was allergic? Hmm...
And Faith. Now that she thought about it... did he mean Faith or faith? She did say it was after she'd chosen something else over him. Maybe she joined a convent! And moved to Australia! And ate fluke all the time, which he couldn't stand!
No, wait, that was silly. Never mind that she was Jewish, were there even flukes in Australia?
"Willow? Earth to Willowww."
She blinked and looked at Xander again, "Huh?"
"You're babbling in your head again, Will," he said with an amused smile.
"Hey, cut it out!" she protested, trying to duck away as he reached over and ruffled her hair.
The next day was pretty much as Xander had expected... almost.
"Oh, here I am," Cordelia said. "'Personal shopper or motivational speaker.' Neato!
"Really?" Xander smiled nostalgically. "I would've thought more actress or... hero."
Cordelia looked up in surprise. Was that a compliment? From Xander? She ran over that again, Yup. Definitely a compliment. Wait, did he call me a hero? What the hell is going on?
"Did you just call me a sandwich?" she asked suspiciously. The blank look he gave her was answer enough. Shaking it off, she turned her attention back to her booklet, "Oh, what about you? You're..." She blinked, "Police or military."
That, he wasn't expecting.
"What?" he blinked and flipped through his own copy. "Huh."
Well, he mused silently, that could be a good thing, in case the Tarakans do show up.
"Buffy," Giles said after they finish straightening the stack of books. "Thank you." Buffy sat as he continued, "I've been, uh, indexing the Watcher diaries covering the last couple of centuries. You would be amazed at how numbingly pompous and long-winded some of these Watchers were."
"Color me stunned."
"So, uh, I trust last night's patrol was fruitful?"
"Semi," Buffy shrugged. "Mmm, I caught one out of two vamps after they stole something from this jumbo mausoleum.
Giles blinked, "They were stealing?"
"Yeah! They had tools, flashlights, whole nine yards. What does that mean anyway? 'Whole nine yards'?" Giles began to pace as she rambled on, "Nine yards of what? Giles, you're in pace mode. What gives?
"Um, this vampire who escaped, did you see what he took?"
"No, but I could take a guess and say it was something old."
"You made no effort to find out what was taken?"
"Have a cow, Giles! I just figured it was your everyday vamp hijinks."
"It wasn't, Buffy," the interruption came from the double doors leading to the rest of the school. Xander entered and blew out a sigh, "It's the Du Lac Cross, a sort of super secret decoder ring to an ancient book that contains a ritual to restore power to a vampire."
Giles began polishing his glasses, "A-are you sure?"
"As shootin'," Xander nodded. "Buffy, you'll need to warn Angel. They'll need him for the ritual to revive Drusilla."
"Great," she said. "I'll tell him at the rink."
"This is it then?" Spike asked, looking at the cross as Drusilla passed her hands over it.
"It hums," she said. "I can hear it."
"Once you're well again, we'll have a coronation down Main Street and invite everyone and drink for seven days and seven nights," Spike promised.
"What about the Slayer?" Dalton asked. "She almost blew the whole thing for us. She's trouble."
Spike looked at him, "You don't say?" He rose to his feet, "Trouble?!" He began to pace. "She's the gnat in my ear! The gristle in my teeth! She's the bloody thorn in my BLOODY SIDE!" he snarled, kicking over a nearby table.
"Spike?" Drusilla asked.
"We gotta do something. We'll never complete your cure with that bitch breathing down our necks." Spike blew out a sigh, "I need to bring in the big guns. They'll take care of her once and for all."
"'Big guns'?" Dalton asked.
"The Order of Taraka," clarified Spike.
"The bounty hunters?!" Dalton blurted out.
Drusilla dealt out three tarot cards. "They're coming to my party," she said. She looked up, "Three of them."
"Uh, yes," Dalton said, "but... the Order of Taraka, I mean... isn't that overkill?
"No," Spike shot back, "I think it's just enough kill."
Drusilla clutched her head and shook it side to side, "No, no, NO! Not enough. Not enough kill." She looked up at Spike, "I don't like this place. We should leave, Spike, before the emerald flames burn us all."
"Not a chance, love," Spike murmured. "Not 'til you're strong again. Not when we're this close."
"Hi!" the redhead chirped from behind Tara, causing her to jump a little in surprise.
"Um, h-hi?" she stammered back.
"We were never properly introduced," the redhead said. "I'm Xander's best friend, Willow."
"T-Tara. Nice to meet you."
"I don't believe this!" The interruption came from the brunette stalking down the hall toward Tara, a virtual stormcloud hovering over her head.
"What's wrong?" Tara asked.
Faith glowered and shook the little booklet at her, "This! They want me to be a f---ing prison guard!" She took a deep breath to calm down and asked, "So, what'd they put you with, T?"
"Counselor," Tara replied.
Faith's scowl darkened, "Damn it. You got something good, fits you to a T, T. And I get stuck with prison guard? Ain't fair."
"W-well, I doubt they're going to have 'exotic dancer' here."
"Shit," Faith snorted. "That'd be better than prison guard." Her gaze tracked over to Willow, "How 'bout you, Red? Oh, name's Faith."
"Um, uh, um," Willow stammered, then said in a small voice, "I'm not on the list. Xander says they have something special for me."
"Wicked."
Author's Postscript:
No, I'm not dead.