Endings 15
A.N. So do I carry on fighting with the Windows XP that has the fucked video card, or do I go back to the Windows ME which seems ridiculously slow, and only wants to open MSWord half the time that I actually want it to? Hmm, choices, choices. And none of ‘em good. Ah well, good thing I’ve learned tolerance. LOL. And spent half the morning typing up the almost-end on my old manual type-writer (just to add to the fun), while the inspiration was there. Not that that’s saying we’re anywhere near the actual end yet.
Wordcount: 1,404.
15
The first thing that Buffy noticed on the other side of the barrier, was the several meters of bare space in which building had been demolished, and low rubble left in tact so that nothing which was bound by the normal rules of existence would be able to sneak up on anyone who was risking their life to keep the battle from spreading further than it had to.
Giles drove the streets as though he knew them like the back of his hand, and before long he was pulling up to a place that looked rough enough on the outside that back home she wouldn’t have given a second glance, let alone any of the few precious minutes that were actually hers to waste accordingly over the course of the day.
As she hoped out of the car she took her usual mental notes. This place wasn’t as quiet as it was on the other side of the barrier, but there was still an air of if not outright fear, then at least nervousness around. But at least there was life here, not that empty shell effect that she had seen before.
That just hadn’t been right. It had almost been reminiscent of her High School days, hanging around a building which was deserted aside from herself and Giles. Places which were meant to be populated just shouldn’t been seen like that.
Only one of the other tables was occupied, by a youngish man, who was sitting with his back to the door, and a woman about her own age, who she still recognized in spite of hair which was usually red being black, and what looked like then lower half of her ear missing. Her face was grim, an expression that had been formed by the constant battle. It was Willow.
The man turned his head as the door opened, and Buffy again had to bit her lip to hold back a gasp, “Rayne, Giles,” this world’s version of Xander greeted them with a casual incline of his head, before frowning at Buffy, “although I’m not sure I’ve met you. Alexander Harris.”
This Xander had both eyes still, but there was a highly noticeable scar running diagonally down the side of his head, and it looked like his nose had been broken a few time. And she was sure that she was only seeing the tip of things. And his eyes were harder than those of the man that she’d known too, although that seemed to be a common factor running through most of those that she’d met here, that they’d had to toughen up in order to survive.
“Probably not,” she allowed, “Buffy Summers,” she frowned for a second, as she recalled the cover she’d been given, “I’m Ethan’s niece.”
“Another magic-user then,” he nodded, “Welcome to ground zero,” he gave her a grim smile, before turning back to Willow, who hadn’t said a word, but was looking in her direction with an odd expression on her face.
After another half-minute Willow blinked, and Buffy finally felt as though she’d been dismissed and given permission to move again.
There were plenty of places to choose from, but the two men headed towards the back of the place, and Buffy trailed dutifully behind, as was expected of her. As soon as the three of them had sat, she looked at Giles.
“How long have they been in it?”
“Since before the first bleed. Any particular reason why you ask?”
“Yes…no…yes…how did they get into the fight?”
“Willow stumbled into magic looking for a cure for her partner’s lycanthropy. She summoned something that she shouldn’t have, tried to cut a deal with it, and things got out of hand. It trapped the poor boy as the beast. Alexander became a part of things when the beast went after him. They… they had been close friends before that. He was luck that Ethan got their when he did, otherwise it would certainly have been a lot worse. I think ever since then she’s been trying to make up for her mistakes. And he’s been doing everything that a human possibly can to protect her.”
Buffy felt a little sick inside, as she listened to another grim tale. It seemed so much as though what could have gone wrong in her world actually had happened here.
“Now, don’t suppose you’d care to tell me why it was that you asked?” Giles asked again.
“I knew a couple of people like them back home.”
“Ah,” Giles left it at that.
And Buffy was left with her thoughts, wondering if there was perhaps a permanently soulless Angelus here, or maybe an insane Cordelia, or something along those lines. It wasn’t really something that she wanted to spend too long dwelling on, otherwise it’d probably do her head in more than she needed right now.
“So, anything in particular that you wanted?” Ethan gestured to the menu, negating to say exactly what he’d done on finding the aforementioned scene, with an almost audible avoidance. Not that Buffy was entirely sure that she wanted to know the extent of it, anyway.
She shrugged, “You know, all of a sudden I don’t’ feel particularly hungry.”
At that moment the lone owner-cum-waiter came over, and pulled the last remaining out from the table, leaving Buffy face to face with another old Sunnydale face, Willey, “So, what’s the news from the front-line? And what’s a nice-looking young thing like you doing palling around with a pair of old faces like them?”
“Nothing good,” Ethan spoke to defuse Buffy, who was scowling at the man, “And that young woman would be able to have your head off as soon as you’d blink. And just as easily, too,” he gave him that smart-arse smirk which Buffy had seen a few times back home when he’d been trying to talk himself out of serious bodily harm, the one that had made whoever was closest want to hit him again.
“Sorry,” he drew the word out, as he stood back up, “Just trying to be friendly, you know?”
Giles cleared his throat, “Now, if the two of you have finished your bi-monthly bicker…?”
“You give anything that you’re trying to be a bad name,” Ethan rounded off, with a touch of noticeable satisfaction.
“Coffee and full breakfast all round please,” Giles spoke quickly, before pressing a pair of fingers to his forehead, “and please, for the sake of my sanity ignore Ethan.”
The man in question laughed.
It was only after Buffy had started eating that she realized how hungry she actually had been. The meal passed in a comfortable silence, and it was only once she’d finished that she looked up from her plate as a shadow fell across her back.
It was Willow, who was peering at her with a intent expression in her dark eyes. Giles looked up, too.
“Was there something we could help you with?”
She spoke only to Buffy, her gaze never leaving her face, “Your only trace of magic is Ethan’s. Somehow, somewhere, I know you,” she slipped a hand under Buffy’s chin and tilted her head to the side, long nails brushing at the skin of her throat, “I don’t know how, but I know…”
Buffy raised her hand, and caught Willow by the wrist, drawing her away and hiding her uneasiness, “I’m afraid you must be mistaken. I know that I’ve never met you. I mean…I’m sure that I would remember someone like you,” she fumbled for the right words, and felt a wash of relief as she finally withdrew and followed Xander through the door that he’d used a couple of minutes ago.
If she hadn’t been sitting down already, then she would have had to have after that, she was sure.
As much as that may have seemed like Willow she was nothing like the person that Buffy had known. She had seen the grief that she’d spiralled into after Tara had been killed, but this was something else altogether.
Ethan covered her hand with one of his, and only then did she realise that it was trembling, “She does her best, Buffy. We can’t ask for anything more. And… she is powerful. She’s made a difference to things a few times.”
“I’m sure,” Buffy said, as she tried to shake off the feeling of standing in her own personalized shadow on a warm summer’s day.