The Alpha and the Omega (3/?)
This one took awhile, as I did battle with my artistic ingegrity (I buried her out in the backyard under a big rock, but that probably won't stop her from coming back from the dead in a Jean Grey-ish manner) over whether or not to "novelize" scenes from actual Buffy episodes within this story.
As it is, I tried to keep it to a bare minimum. Seriously, I don't know how Mac does it, over and over again, in his different stories, without it seeming really forced or old.
I'm also working on pulling Molly from the unholy depths of one-dimensionality, a task made that much harder by the death of my artistic integrity. Let me know how much success (or lack of) I'm having.
"THIS is the dark empty house of you SOUL!"
Buffy rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile as she lead Robin Wood back into her house. Andrew and Dawn were in the kitchen, cheerfully quoting "Jesus Christ, Vampire Hunter", as they had been for two days now. Each time, they'd burst into hysterical giggles. It was a little unbearable, but it was good to hear people laughing in her home again.
It had been awhile. Possibly since Giles first appeared with his collection of potentials. Buffy hadn't quite realized just how much she'd missed hearing her younger sister laugh like that. She didn't say anything about it, knowing that laughter was going to be short lived.
It always was.
"Anyway," Buffy half-turned back to her boss. "The thing with Spike is . . . Xander!" Buffy hurried into the hallway, where Xander was using the wall as a crutch, slowly making his way towards them. He tried to wave her off, but she pushed her shoulder under his, pulling his weight onto her.
"Spike is Xander?" Wood frowned. "You lost me on that one."
"I really hope not." Xander extended a hand to him, still moving stiffly. "You're Wood, right? The not-evil principal."
"We met, actually." Robin took his hand, smiling. "You were hanging from the ceiling at the time."
"Right. That." Xander glanced down at Buffy. "Sorry, that night is kind of a blur."
"Understandable. Looks like you've had a few . . . run-ins already." Wood raised an eyebrow. "Do you date demons every night?"
Buffy and Xander just sort of blinked at him. Buffy glanced over at Xander, then realized. "Right. The bandages. There's this whole explanation to that, which . . . ." Xander winced. "We're really not going to go into right now. Xander, you should be in bed."
"I'm fine, Buffy. Wanted to try the whole 'self-propelled' thing out for awhile." He eased himself away from her. "Also, hoping for some real food. I might even be able to hold it down, now."
"You sure you don't--"
"Doing fine!" Xander called over his shoulder, now leaning on the door jam. "I'll let you know."
"Okay," Buffy sighed slightly. It had been a few days since the stigmata, and he really did seem to be getting better, but . . . "Just don't push it." She waited, not quite patiently, for Xander to move further into the kitchen. "Wood asked to see 'the vampire'." She pulled open the door to the basement. The sound of Anya's voice wafted upward. She half-turned back to the principal, who was hovering behind her, somewhat bewildered. "The ex-vengeance demon comes, extra."
Wood raised his eyebrows and nodded knowingly, before his face settled into a look of confusion. "I see."
The sounds of Dawn, Andrew, and Xander followed them down the stairs before Wood shut the door behind them.
"We're almost out of skin!"
"I suggest we harvest another lesbian!"
Wood opened his mouth, and Buffy shook her head. "Don't ask. Just, don't ask."
"Gotcha."
". . . No need to thank me. I'm just the one who beat him off,"
Buffy cleared her throat rather sharply. Anya and Spike glanced up at her. Spike quickly backtracked.
"Repelled him would perhaps be the better phrase. Demon." He shifted slightly on his cot. Anya still looked pissed over . . . whatever it was they were arguing about.
Buffy shrugged, glancing back at Wood. "Figured." Robin, it seemed, hadn't taken his eyes off of Spike since they'd entered the basement, though he was angling his body in her direction.
"I hope we're not intruding."
Spike shifted again. "Not a bit. And just what brings our good principal to this neck of the gloom?"
Buffy crossed her arms. She got the feeling that Spike wasn't going to be very enthused by the inclusion of Wood into their little army, and she was gearing up for the argument she was sure was going to follow. Defensive-Buffy was prepped, raring to go. "I'm showing him our operation. Us."
"Fine by me." Spike nodded in Robin's direction. "Big fight against evil coming up. The more good guys we've got, the longer we'll all live."
Wood was still doing the avoidance dance. Buffy sighed inwardly. Whether Spike was willing to play nice or not, it seemed that the demon-hunter wasn't interested. "Is that what you are? A good guy?"
Spike took on his own defensive posture, which required a great deal more feigned indifference than Buffy's, which always leaned towards angry. "I haven't heard any complaints. Well, I have heard a few complaints over the years, but then I just killed whoever spoke up, and that was pretty much that."
Dammit. Buffy took a deep breath as Robin finally turned to face Spike. Here we go, time to play Mediator-Buffy. Too bad that was one hat which never quite fit right. "He's joking."
"No, he's not."
Buffy winced, biting back a comment. Somehow, she got the feeling that reiterating that Spike had a soul was going to help the situation.
Spike, it seemed, was willing to concede a point. "No, I'm not." His eyes softened, and he showed a bit more of William through his tough vamp facade. "But . . . that's the old me I'm talking about."
"Why don't you tell me about that?"
A voice, sounding suspiciously like Xander's, let out a painful screech from upstairs, causing all three of them to jump. Buffy didn't bother to exchange glances with either of the other two, just sped up the stairs.
"What?" Buffy stared around the kitchen. Dawn was on one side of the breakfast bar, her hand clutched around a mug of what smelled like hot chocolate. Xander stood back against the wall by the back door, his eyes wide, staring down at the floor. Neither looked hurt. Or rather, Dawn didn't look hurt. Xander didn't look any more injured than he had ten minutes ago. "What happened?"
Xander raised a hand, which wobbled slightly. The bandage wrapped around it was, for once, free of blood. He pointed down at the floor. "Cockroach."
Buffy bolted to his side. She followed his finger with her eyes, and sure enough, there on the floor was a large brown bug, flopped over on its back, its legs curled up to the underside of its exoskeleton. Buffy closed her eyes and cursed.
Then Xander said something completely inexplicable.
"I didn't mean to!"
Buffy whirled on him. "You brought a cockroach in here? It's bad enough that the basement floods, and I can't quite pay the electric bill, and the WORLD is ending, but you have to bring me bugs?!"
Xander blinked at her three times in slow progression. He seemed to grow more confused with each lowering and lifting of his eyelids. "What?"
Buffy shook her head again. "Okay, back this up." She turned to Dawn, who stared at her with a half-amused look on her face. "What happened?"
"Well, I certainly wasn't trying to purposefully infest your house," Xander looked slightly offended, which, added to confused and still more than a little freaked, combined for a rather bizarre expression. Dawn nodded.
"You mean it was already here? Ew! Ew, we have COCKROACHES!"
"Well," Wood appeared at her shoulder suddenly, then crouched down to poke at the bug. "This one is actually a dead cockroach."
"So? If there's one, there's millions. I've seen the Orkin ads!" Buffy looked from Xander, to Wood, to Dawn, and then carefully rolled her shoulders back. "Okay. Okay, I'm not freaking out about bugs. The big bad Slayer is so NOT afraid of bugs." She frowned. "And aside from one notable exception, neither is Xander." She peered at him. "So what was with the shrieking?"
"I didn't shriek--"
"Fine, bellow, but make with the what's with."
"He killed it." Dawn set her mug down on the counter. "Without actually, you know, touching it."
Wood straightened, the bug held gingerly between two fingers. "I feel like we're asking this a lot, but, what?"
Xander shrugged, his eyes still a little to big for his head. "Yeah. I was just talking to Dawn, and I saw it out of the corner of my eye, and I dunno, I said something--"
"You said 'you don't belong in here',"
Xander nodded. "And it flopped over on its back, and died."
Wood frowned. "Have you guys had an exterminator in recently? It might have just been on its last, er, legs."
"Right, invite an exterminator in to see our wonderful 'Summers Home for Girls'? I didn't even know we HAD cockroaches." Buffy turned back to Xander, resting a hand on his arm. "We'll get Giles and Willow researching this right away, Xand. This is probably just another clue."
Wood glanced from the bug, to Xander, to Buffy, then back at the bug. "Something's going on here that you're not telling me."
"Yeah." Buffy sighed. "Something is."
* * *
"Well." Wood poked at the dead cockroach on the coffee table with a pencil. "If we're going from the 'miracles of Christ' angle, this actually fits in pretty well."
Xander frowned at him. Buffy sympathized. "What, like I was exorcizing the demon-bug, or something?"
"Well, this certainly isn't Legion," Wood looked around at them, then sighed. "Legion. Christ cast a multitude of demons out of a person and into a group of pigs?"
Buffy nodded, pretending to have the least idea what he was talking about. "Right. Sooo, no pigs, thus not Legion."
"It's in the Apocryphal Gospels. The Infancy Gospels, to be precise." At Buffy's look, Wood shrugged. "I took a couple religion classes in college. I wasn't always a high-school principal, you know. Anyway," Wood straightened. "According to the Infancy Gospels, Christ had a bit of a . . . temper problem in his early youth. On one occasion, they speak of a boy who bumped into Christ on the road. He turned to the boy and said 'you will travel no further on your path', and the boy withered and died on the spot."
"You're kidding, right?" Xander's face was taking on the now familiar shocked/nauseous expression. "'Cause of all the many possible 'powers of Jesus', vengeful killing isn't high on my list. Though it might help me get back together with Anya."
Wood raised his eyebrows. "Well, like I said, it could be that this roach died on its own. But if you're looking for supernatural answers,"
"We get it. Thanks," Buffy stood, smiling softly at Robin. "Is there anything else you need to see? Only, we've got some other things we need to take care of."
"No," Wood rose to his feet. "I'm good. I think you're building a solid system here, Buffy. You should be proud."
Buffy could feel a blush rising on her cheeks. "Thanks." She walked with him as far as the door. Behind her, she could hear Dawn and Xander talking quietly. The two of them seemed to have bonded at some point in the last few weeks, which she wanted to encourage. She planned to have them both as far from Sunnydale as possible when the end came, and they'd need each other for support.
"I mean it, Buffy." Wood stood just outside the doorway. "You've got some rough edges here and there, Xander and Spike included, but you're making the best with what you have."
"Yeah." Buffy felt her smile melt downward. "I just wish everyone else was, too."
* * *
Xander leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. To be more specific, the gaping, Spike-shaped hole in the ceiling, leading straight into Buffy's bedroom. He had his work cut out for him, repairing that when he was still just starting to heal from his bout of stigmata. The wounds on his hands, feet, and head were finally starting to heal, which meant they were now itching more than aching, but his muscles were stiff from days confined to his bed, and he was still pretty much perpetually thirsty.
He had to figure out the perfect helper for this task, someone who knew a thing or two about wood. Which meant he would probably have to call one of his friends from the site, which meant all sorts of questions, about the girls, about his own short-term disability and lack of doctor's note to back it up, and about how the hole got there in the first place. He'd do it tomorrow, when most of the girls were at school or training with Kennedy.
For now, he was mostly worried about Buffy. Even before she had jumped into the portal, she'd been on edge. Which made sense, after all, she probably felt alone against the First right now.
Scratch that, Xander knew beyond a doubt that she felt alone. She'd made that clear in her little "motivational speech" to the masses earlier in the evening. What she'd said hadn't been entirely called for, and it had rankled that she could believe that her friends, the ones who had helped her through six years of various apocalyptic situations, weren't giving 100% to the battle. She hadn't dared say anything to him, not when he was still only slightly mobile, and none of them quite knew what was going on in the first place, but her words had hurt him anyway.
He couldn't not hurt when Willow did. It was physically impossible.
But ever since she'd come back out of the portal, she'd been really, really quiet. Her mood seemed to be about the same as it had been for most of the last year: frightened, depressed, and half-dead. She'd seen something in that portal, something big and scary.
Well, they'd faced big and scary before. They'd beaten it then, they would again.
He just hoped they wouldn't have to lose too many people to do it.
Which brought his mind full-circle back to Chloe. Of all the core Scoobies, he had probably known her the best. She'd come to sit with him a few times while he was still bed-ridden, reading him bits of Winnie the Pooh. Tigger had been her favorite. He didn't know much about her beyond that, though.
He wondered if he should have tried harder to get to know her. If maybe he could have reassured her, given her the strength to ignore the First. He was supposed to be all Jesus-ified now, after all, and wasn't that what Jesus did? Give people hope of something better? Save their souls, if not their lives?
*He died for their sins.*
That made Xander shudder. Sure, he wasn't the most religious person in the world, never had been. He'd never known much about the various world religions until he started working with the Scooby Gang. Ira Rosenberg had even joked once or twice that he was a Jew who celebrated Christmas; growing up as Willow's best friend had meant that he'd known more about the history and traditional roots of Passover and Hanukkah than he did about Easter or Christmas. But he did remember that.
Hell, even Kevin Smith had pointed that out. "The trouble with being a martyr is, you have to die."
And every time Xander started to think that this might just be real, that Molly might be even a little bit right, he remembered that.
*He died for their sins.*
Xander knew that, odds were, he wasn't going to survive this particular apocalypse. It was all spelled out in front of him, in fact, in bold, Biblical type. He was going to have to die.
And that scared him more than he wanted to think about.
As girls started slowly trickling into the living room, rolling out sleeping bags, Xander levered himself to his feet. Since the first night, he'd taken Kennedy's place in Willow's bed. He just wasn't able to get any decent sleep down here with the other girls, though he'd promised the young potential in no uncertain terms that as soon as he was able to put shoes on, he'd go back to his own apartment and sleep there instead. He had, in fact, offered to let the two of them crash there while he bogarted their bed, but Willow had turned him down. Instead, she curled up on the far side of the queen sized mattress, and Kennedy crashed on the floor just beneath her.
Another thing to feel guilty about. While he didn't think Kennedy was necessarily the right girl for Willow, he was too happy that she'd managed to find someone after Tara's death to really object. And now, he was quite possibly ruining that relationship.
On the other hand, judging from the look on Kennedy's face when Willow had "borrowed" some of her energy to perform the portal spell, they didn't need him to be the one to break them up. Everything was not happy in lesbian land.
Xander eased himself up the stairs, listening to the sounds of the house settling in to sleep. Buffy was on patrol with Spike, Andrew was curled up in the living room with the potentials, Dawn was reading under her covers in bed, Willow was softly chanting a meditation mantra. The whole place echoed with quiet, peaceful sounds. Xander shut his eyes and leaned against the railing to catch his breath, and just *listened*.
"As I went down in the river to pray
Studyin' about that good ole way and who
Shall wear the robe and crown, good Lord show me the way,
"O sister let's go down, let's go down
Come on down
O sister let's go down, down in the river to pray,"
The voice wasn't the best Xander had ever heard--he suspected Simon would have a few choice words to say about the ability to stay on pitch--he couldn't deny the wonder with which it was sung.
It drifted out of the bathroom, and Xander wondered for a crazy moment if Chloe was still in there, singing her own eulogy. But as the song ended, and he heard the singer continue into a strangely familiar prayer, Xander realized who it was.
Molly.
"Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not, into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen."
Xander knew he should push away from the wall and go to bed. He knew that Molly was in the bathroom on purpose, using it as her own little sanctuary against the crowded rooms of the rest of the house, and that he shouldn't intrude by listening in. But she continued to pray, this time in her own words, and he couldn't drag himself away.
"I'm sorry, Lord. I'm sorry I ever doubted that you were up there. I'm sorry that I didn't believe that you could bring us through this." Molly's voice was rushed, barreling through her apologies before she took a deep, audible breath. "And I'm sorry I haven't been going to church, or keeping the Sabbath day. I'm sorry I haven't been a good Christian. But *thank you*." Another breath, and Xander found himself releasing his. He closed his eyes and concentrated on her voice. "Thank you for the blessing you've placed on Xander. He's a good man, at least, I think he is. Well, he has to be, otherwise, you wouldn't have blessed him. Thank you for giving us that blessing in this, um, time of darkness. Please forgive Chloe for not believing you'd save us, and please continue to bless us, and let us live through this. Even Buffy. Um, amen."
Xander shook his head. She didn't understand. Buffy had been doing this for so long, and had lost so much. It wasn't her fault she was so hurt by it. He decided he'd have to have a talk with Molly and the rest of the potentials later. Buffy needed these girls in her corner, not doubting her every move.
The bathroom door opened, and Xander yanked himself away from the wall. Molly peered out at him, startled. "Um, hi."
"Hey." He smiled slightly at her. "Are you one of the night-shower girls?"
"Um," Molly touched her dry hair, then wiped at her wet cheek. "Yeah. Yeah, I was just getting in a shower."
"Okay, then. Good night," Xander pushed himself away from the wall, figuring that now was not the time for a rousing speech. It would likely just embarrass them both.
"Xander," Molly lightly touched his shoulder, almost reverently, and he flinched slightly before pulling the smile back across his face. Okay, rousing speech and a lecture about how he was NOT a holy man.
"Yeah?"
"Do you think we could, um, talk, at some point?"
Xander nodded. "Yeah. Sure. At some point. Not now though." He grinned sheepishly. "I'm really tired."
Molly smiled a little. "Okay. Thanks. It's just . . ." She glanced back over her shoulder at the door. Xander felt himself soften again. One of these days, he was going to put a limit on the number girls he was allowed to have as "his" at any given time. If he stretched his heart out that much, it was likely to wear thin. But each of the girls in the house were worming their way under his skin.
Xander had a big weakness for women.
"What do you need?"
"Chloe. Do you think she . . ." Molly seemed to shake herself. "It's just, suicide is a mortal sin."
Xander blinked. "Is that because you die from it?"
Molly giggled slightly, her eyes wide. "No. It's because, um, life is a gift. And when you commit suicide, you throw that gift away, back in G--in the creator's face. It means that when you commit that sin, you go straight to hell."
"Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars."
"Er, yeah." Molly wiped at her eyes again. "You don't think that she. . . ." Her eyes dropped to the floor, and Xander's followed automatically. He half expected to see a portal to hell open up at his feet. Which would suck, because then he'd probably have to rebuild the entire second floor of the house.
"Molly." He reached out a hand, but let it stop just short of her chin. She peered up at him. "I don't know. I don't have all the answers. But . . . well, it seems to me that you shouldn't punish someone just for being scared."
Molly nodded, sniffling slightly. "Thank you."
"No problem. Now go to sleep, huh? How do you think Kennedy's going to react if you're falling asleep on your training tomorrow?" He cracked open the door to the bedroom behind him, hoping she'd take the hint and go downstairs.
"Yeah." She smiled again. "She can be a real witch." Her eyes widened as she realized that he'd been opening the door to Willow and Kennedy's room. "I mean, not a witch, they're good, right, um except for the whole 'thou shalt not suffer'-- Oh, gosh, forget I said that. Any of it. Please?" She was looking over his shoulder now, where he could almost feel Willow's eyes. "Night!"
She dashed off down the stairs. Xander turned into the bedroom.
Willow sat on the bed, smirking. "She's cute. In a kind of thoroughly irritating kind of way."
Xander just shrugged.
* * *
The next morning found Willow hard at work researching again, this time perched on the steps to the back porch, while Kennedy lead the potentials through their warm ups. Buffy watched from the side-lines as she mentally prepared herself for another early morning at the high-school, guiding teenagers through the day to day hells of public education and puberty, while her mind was still lurking on the more esoteric hells of, well, hell. It seemed like this morning Molly was Kennedy's example-du-jour. Buffy just hoped that the girl wouldn't take the criticism as personally as Chloe did.
Yes, Buffy knew she'd messed up yesterday. She knew she needed to lighten up on her troops if she wanted to keep morale up. On the other hand, it seemed to Buffy as though morale was as up as it was going to get. What she needed now wasn't happy friends, what she needed was soldiers. People willing to give up everything they were to see the world saved.
Buffy needed people like her. Maybe that meant they had to be as burnt out inside as she felt most days. But if that's what it took. . . . The image of thousands of Turok-han was burned into the back of Buffy's head. She might have turned down the demon-injection the men were offering her, but she couldn't ignore the vision.
It kept her from sleeping. It kept her from concentrating and being the best "general" she could be. But if she knew even a little bit of what was coming, it would help them.
Willow gasped softly behind her, but Buffy paid it no mind. There were all sorts of things online that might make Willow make that noise, especially if she was researching what was happening to Xander. It wasn't until Willow hissed "Buffy!" that she turned around.
"What's up, Willow?"
"I was just checking my history, to find the pages I was looking at when Ta--when the First showed up. And I found this."
Willow tilted her laptop to one side to give Buffy a better view of the monitor. Buffy frowned. She let her eyes scan swiftly over the text. "So?"
"Buffy, *look*." Willow highlighted a bit of text. Buffy cursed softly.
"That's not good."
"No kidding?"
"Who would have--?"
"Three guesses." Willow stared into the group of potentials. "And the first two don't count."
"Dammit." Buffy straightened. "Molly."
to be continued....
<--{3}-->
And now, back to bed. For inspite of an entire day of snow fall, there's little to no accumulation on the roads, and even if there were, my office is open in three feet of snow.
Hell, my office is open when the Goverment closes down. There's nothing that closes this damned place down. ARRRRRRGGGH!
(And speaking of damnation, and hell, and such things, the temp came back AGAIN! I swear, he's like, haunting me or something!)
As it is, I tried to keep it to a bare minimum. Seriously, I don't know how Mac does it, over and over again, in his different stories, without it seeming really forced or old.
I'm also working on pulling Molly from the unholy depths of one-dimensionality, a task made that much harder by the death of my artistic integrity. Let me know how much success (or lack of) I'm having.
"THIS is the dark empty house of you SOUL!"
Buffy rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile as she lead Robin Wood back into her house. Andrew and Dawn were in the kitchen, cheerfully quoting "Jesus Christ, Vampire Hunter", as they had been for two days now. Each time, they'd burst into hysterical giggles. It was a little unbearable, but it was good to hear people laughing in her home again.
It had been awhile. Possibly since Giles first appeared with his collection of potentials. Buffy hadn't quite realized just how much she'd missed hearing her younger sister laugh like that. She didn't say anything about it, knowing that laughter was going to be short lived.
It always was.
"Anyway," Buffy half-turned back to her boss. "The thing with Spike is . . . Xander!" Buffy hurried into the hallway, where Xander was using the wall as a crutch, slowly making his way towards them. He tried to wave her off, but she pushed her shoulder under his, pulling his weight onto her.
"Spike is Xander?" Wood frowned. "You lost me on that one."
"I really hope not." Xander extended a hand to him, still moving stiffly. "You're Wood, right? The not-evil principal."
"We met, actually." Robin took his hand, smiling. "You were hanging from the ceiling at the time."
"Right. That." Xander glanced down at Buffy. "Sorry, that night is kind of a blur."
"Understandable. Looks like you've had a few . . . run-ins already." Wood raised an eyebrow. "Do you date demons every night?"
Buffy and Xander just sort of blinked at him. Buffy glanced over at Xander, then realized. "Right. The bandages. There's this whole explanation to that, which . . . ." Xander winced. "We're really not going to go into right now. Xander, you should be in bed."
"I'm fine, Buffy. Wanted to try the whole 'self-propelled' thing out for awhile." He eased himself away from her. "Also, hoping for some real food. I might even be able to hold it down, now."
"You sure you don't--"
"Doing fine!" Xander called over his shoulder, now leaning on the door jam. "I'll let you know."
"Okay," Buffy sighed slightly. It had been a few days since the stigmata, and he really did seem to be getting better, but . . . "Just don't push it." She waited, not quite patiently, for Xander to move further into the kitchen. "Wood asked to see 'the vampire'." She pulled open the door to the basement. The sound of Anya's voice wafted upward. She half-turned back to the principal, who was hovering behind her, somewhat bewildered. "The ex-vengeance demon comes, extra."
Wood raised his eyebrows and nodded knowingly, before his face settled into a look of confusion. "I see."
The sounds of Dawn, Andrew, and Xander followed them down the stairs before Wood shut the door behind them.
"We're almost out of skin!"
"I suggest we harvest another lesbian!"
Wood opened his mouth, and Buffy shook her head. "Don't ask. Just, don't ask."
"Gotcha."
". . . No need to thank me. I'm just the one who beat him off,"
Buffy cleared her throat rather sharply. Anya and Spike glanced up at her. Spike quickly backtracked.
"Repelled him would perhaps be the better phrase. Demon." He shifted slightly on his cot. Anya still looked pissed over . . . whatever it was they were arguing about.
Buffy shrugged, glancing back at Wood. "Figured." Robin, it seemed, hadn't taken his eyes off of Spike since they'd entered the basement, though he was angling his body in her direction.
"I hope we're not intruding."
Spike shifted again. "Not a bit. And just what brings our good principal to this neck of the gloom?"
Buffy crossed her arms. She got the feeling that Spike wasn't going to be very enthused by the inclusion of Wood into their little army, and she was gearing up for the argument she was sure was going to follow. Defensive-Buffy was prepped, raring to go. "I'm showing him our operation. Us."
"Fine by me." Spike nodded in Robin's direction. "Big fight against evil coming up. The more good guys we've got, the longer we'll all live."
Wood was still doing the avoidance dance. Buffy sighed inwardly. Whether Spike was willing to play nice or not, it seemed that the demon-hunter wasn't interested. "Is that what you are? A good guy?"
Spike took on his own defensive posture, which required a great deal more feigned indifference than Buffy's, which always leaned towards angry. "I haven't heard any complaints. Well, I have heard a few complaints over the years, but then I just killed whoever spoke up, and that was pretty much that."
Dammit. Buffy took a deep breath as Robin finally turned to face Spike. Here we go, time to play Mediator-Buffy. Too bad that was one hat which never quite fit right. "He's joking."
"No, he's not."
Buffy winced, biting back a comment. Somehow, she got the feeling that reiterating that Spike had a soul was going to help the situation.
Spike, it seemed, was willing to concede a point. "No, I'm not." His eyes softened, and he showed a bit more of William through his tough vamp facade. "But . . . that's the old me I'm talking about."
"Why don't you tell me about that?"
A voice, sounding suspiciously like Xander's, let out a painful screech from upstairs, causing all three of them to jump. Buffy didn't bother to exchange glances with either of the other two, just sped up the stairs.
"What?" Buffy stared around the kitchen. Dawn was on one side of the breakfast bar, her hand clutched around a mug of what smelled like hot chocolate. Xander stood back against the wall by the back door, his eyes wide, staring down at the floor. Neither looked hurt. Or rather, Dawn didn't look hurt. Xander didn't look any more injured than he had ten minutes ago. "What happened?"
Xander raised a hand, which wobbled slightly. The bandage wrapped around it was, for once, free of blood. He pointed down at the floor. "Cockroach."
Buffy bolted to his side. She followed his finger with her eyes, and sure enough, there on the floor was a large brown bug, flopped over on its back, its legs curled up to the underside of its exoskeleton. Buffy closed her eyes and cursed.
Then Xander said something completely inexplicable.
"I didn't mean to!"
Buffy whirled on him. "You brought a cockroach in here? It's bad enough that the basement floods, and I can't quite pay the electric bill, and the WORLD is ending, but you have to bring me bugs?!"
Xander blinked at her three times in slow progression. He seemed to grow more confused with each lowering and lifting of his eyelids. "What?"
Buffy shook her head again. "Okay, back this up." She turned to Dawn, who stared at her with a half-amused look on her face. "What happened?"
"Well, I certainly wasn't trying to purposefully infest your house," Xander looked slightly offended, which, added to confused and still more than a little freaked, combined for a rather bizarre expression. Dawn nodded.
"You mean it was already here? Ew! Ew, we have COCKROACHES!"
"Well," Wood appeared at her shoulder suddenly, then crouched down to poke at the bug. "This one is actually a dead cockroach."
"So? If there's one, there's millions. I've seen the Orkin ads!" Buffy looked from Xander, to Wood, to Dawn, and then carefully rolled her shoulders back. "Okay. Okay, I'm not freaking out about bugs. The big bad Slayer is so NOT afraid of bugs." She frowned. "And aside from one notable exception, neither is Xander." She peered at him. "So what was with the shrieking?"
"I didn't shriek--"
"Fine, bellow, but make with the what's with."
"He killed it." Dawn set her mug down on the counter. "Without actually, you know, touching it."
Wood straightened, the bug held gingerly between two fingers. "I feel like we're asking this a lot, but, what?"
Xander shrugged, his eyes still a little to big for his head. "Yeah. I was just talking to Dawn, and I saw it out of the corner of my eye, and I dunno, I said something--"
"You said 'you don't belong in here',"
Xander nodded. "And it flopped over on its back, and died."
Wood frowned. "Have you guys had an exterminator in recently? It might have just been on its last, er, legs."
"Right, invite an exterminator in to see our wonderful 'Summers Home for Girls'? I didn't even know we HAD cockroaches." Buffy turned back to Xander, resting a hand on his arm. "We'll get Giles and Willow researching this right away, Xand. This is probably just another clue."
Wood glanced from the bug, to Xander, to Buffy, then back at the bug. "Something's going on here that you're not telling me."
"Yeah." Buffy sighed. "Something is."
* * *
"Well." Wood poked at the dead cockroach on the coffee table with a pencil. "If we're going from the 'miracles of Christ' angle, this actually fits in pretty well."
Xander frowned at him. Buffy sympathized. "What, like I was exorcizing the demon-bug, or something?"
"Well, this certainly isn't Legion," Wood looked around at them, then sighed. "Legion. Christ cast a multitude of demons out of a person and into a group of pigs?"
Buffy nodded, pretending to have the least idea what he was talking about. "Right. Sooo, no pigs, thus not Legion."
"It's in the Apocryphal Gospels. The Infancy Gospels, to be precise." At Buffy's look, Wood shrugged. "I took a couple religion classes in college. I wasn't always a high-school principal, you know. Anyway," Wood straightened. "According to the Infancy Gospels, Christ had a bit of a . . . temper problem in his early youth. On one occasion, they speak of a boy who bumped into Christ on the road. He turned to the boy and said 'you will travel no further on your path', and the boy withered and died on the spot."
"You're kidding, right?" Xander's face was taking on the now familiar shocked/nauseous expression. "'Cause of all the many possible 'powers of Jesus', vengeful killing isn't high on my list. Though it might help me get back together with Anya."
Wood raised his eyebrows. "Well, like I said, it could be that this roach died on its own. But if you're looking for supernatural answers,"
"We get it. Thanks," Buffy stood, smiling softly at Robin. "Is there anything else you need to see? Only, we've got some other things we need to take care of."
"No," Wood rose to his feet. "I'm good. I think you're building a solid system here, Buffy. You should be proud."
Buffy could feel a blush rising on her cheeks. "Thanks." She walked with him as far as the door. Behind her, she could hear Dawn and Xander talking quietly. The two of them seemed to have bonded at some point in the last few weeks, which she wanted to encourage. She planned to have them both as far from Sunnydale as possible when the end came, and they'd need each other for support.
"I mean it, Buffy." Wood stood just outside the doorway. "You've got some rough edges here and there, Xander and Spike included, but you're making the best with what you have."
"Yeah." Buffy felt her smile melt downward. "I just wish everyone else was, too."
* * *
Xander leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. To be more specific, the gaping, Spike-shaped hole in the ceiling, leading straight into Buffy's bedroom. He had his work cut out for him, repairing that when he was still just starting to heal from his bout of stigmata. The wounds on his hands, feet, and head were finally starting to heal, which meant they were now itching more than aching, but his muscles were stiff from days confined to his bed, and he was still pretty much perpetually thirsty.
He had to figure out the perfect helper for this task, someone who knew a thing or two about wood. Which meant he would probably have to call one of his friends from the site, which meant all sorts of questions, about the girls, about his own short-term disability and lack of doctor's note to back it up, and about how the hole got there in the first place. He'd do it tomorrow, when most of the girls were at school or training with Kennedy.
For now, he was mostly worried about Buffy. Even before she had jumped into the portal, she'd been on edge. Which made sense, after all, she probably felt alone against the First right now.
Scratch that, Xander knew beyond a doubt that she felt alone. She'd made that clear in her little "motivational speech" to the masses earlier in the evening. What she'd said hadn't been entirely called for, and it had rankled that she could believe that her friends, the ones who had helped her through six years of various apocalyptic situations, weren't giving 100% to the battle. She hadn't dared say anything to him, not when he was still only slightly mobile, and none of them quite knew what was going on in the first place, but her words had hurt him anyway.
He couldn't not hurt when Willow did. It was physically impossible.
But ever since she'd come back out of the portal, she'd been really, really quiet. Her mood seemed to be about the same as it had been for most of the last year: frightened, depressed, and half-dead. She'd seen something in that portal, something big and scary.
Well, they'd faced big and scary before. They'd beaten it then, they would again.
He just hoped they wouldn't have to lose too many people to do it.
Which brought his mind full-circle back to Chloe. Of all the core Scoobies, he had probably known her the best. She'd come to sit with him a few times while he was still bed-ridden, reading him bits of Winnie the Pooh. Tigger had been her favorite. He didn't know much about her beyond that, though.
He wondered if he should have tried harder to get to know her. If maybe he could have reassured her, given her the strength to ignore the First. He was supposed to be all Jesus-ified now, after all, and wasn't that what Jesus did? Give people hope of something better? Save their souls, if not their lives?
*He died for their sins.*
That made Xander shudder. Sure, he wasn't the most religious person in the world, never had been. He'd never known much about the various world religions until he started working with the Scooby Gang. Ira Rosenberg had even joked once or twice that he was a Jew who celebrated Christmas; growing up as Willow's best friend had meant that he'd known more about the history and traditional roots of Passover and Hanukkah than he did about Easter or Christmas. But he did remember that.
Hell, even Kevin Smith had pointed that out. "The trouble with being a martyr is, you have to die."
And every time Xander started to think that this might just be real, that Molly might be even a little bit right, he remembered that.
*He died for their sins.*
Xander knew that, odds were, he wasn't going to survive this particular apocalypse. It was all spelled out in front of him, in fact, in bold, Biblical type. He was going to have to die.
And that scared him more than he wanted to think about.
As girls started slowly trickling into the living room, rolling out sleeping bags, Xander levered himself to his feet. Since the first night, he'd taken Kennedy's place in Willow's bed. He just wasn't able to get any decent sleep down here with the other girls, though he'd promised the young potential in no uncertain terms that as soon as he was able to put shoes on, he'd go back to his own apartment and sleep there instead. He had, in fact, offered to let the two of them crash there while he bogarted their bed, but Willow had turned him down. Instead, she curled up on the far side of the queen sized mattress, and Kennedy crashed on the floor just beneath her.
Another thing to feel guilty about. While he didn't think Kennedy was necessarily the right girl for Willow, he was too happy that she'd managed to find someone after Tara's death to really object. And now, he was quite possibly ruining that relationship.
On the other hand, judging from the look on Kennedy's face when Willow had "borrowed" some of her energy to perform the portal spell, they didn't need him to be the one to break them up. Everything was not happy in lesbian land.
Xander eased himself up the stairs, listening to the sounds of the house settling in to sleep. Buffy was on patrol with Spike, Andrew was curled up in the living room with the potentials, Dawn was reading under her covers in bed, Willow was softly chanting a meditation mantra. The whole place echoed with quiet, peaceful sounds. Xander shut his eyes and leaned against the railing to catch his breath, and just *listened*.
"As I went down in the river to pray
Studyin' about that good ole way and who
Shall wear the robe and crown, good Lord show me the way,
"O sister let's go down, let's go down
Come on down
O sister let's go down, down in the river to pray,"
The voice wasn't the best Xander had ever heard--he suspected Simon would have a few choice words to say about the ability to stay on pitch--he couldn't deny the wonder with which it was sung.
It drifted out of the bathroom, and Xander wondered for a crazy moment if Chloe was still in there, singing her own eulogy. But as the song ended, and he heard the singer continue into a strangely familiar prayer, Xander realized who it was.
Molly.
"Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not, into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen."
Xander knew he should push away from the wall and go to bed. He knew that Molly was in the bathroom on purpose, using it as her own little sanctuary against the crowded rooms of the rest of the house, and that he shouldn't intrude by listening in. But she continued to pray, this time in her own words, and he couldn't drag himself away.
"I'm sorry, Lord. I'm sorry I ever doubted that you were up there. I'm sorry that I didn't believe that you could bring us through this." Molly's voice was rushed, barreling through her apologies before she took a deep, audible breath. "And I'm sorry I haven't been going to church, or keeping the Sabbath day. I'm sorry I haven't been a good Christian. But *thank you*." Another breath, and Xander found himself releasing his. He closed his eyes and concentrated on her voice. "Thank you for the blessing you've placed on Xander. He's a good man, at least, I think he is. Well, he has to be, otherwise, you wouldn't have blessed him. Thank you for giving us that blessing in this, um, time of darkness. Please forgive Chloe for not believing you'd save us, and please continue to bless us, and let us live through this. Even Buffy. Um, amen."
Xander shook his head. She didn't understand. Buffy had been doing this for so long, and had lost so much. It wasn't her fault she was so hurt by it. He decided he'd have to have a talk with Molly and the rest of the potentials later. Buffy needed these girls in her corner, not doubting her every move.
The bathroom door opened, and Xander yanked himself away from the wall. Molly peered out at him, startled. "Um, hi."
"Hey." He smiled slightly at her. "Are you one of the night-shower girls?"
"Um," Molly touched her dry hair, then wiped at her wet cheek. "Yeah. Yeah, I was just getting in a shower."
"Okay, then. Good night," Xander pushed himself away from the wall, figuring that now was not the time for a rousing speech. It would likely just embarrass them both.
"Xander," Molly lightly touched his shoulder, almost reverently, and he flinched slightly before pulling the smile back across his face. Okay, rousing speech and a lecture about how he was NOT a holy man.
"Yeah?"
"Do you think we could, um, talk, at some point?"
Xander nodded. "Yeah. Sure. At some point. Not now though." He grinned sheepishly. "I'm really tired."
Molly smiled a little. "Okay. Thanks. It's just . . ." She glanced back over her shoulder at the door. Xander felt himself soften again. One of these days, he was going to put a limit on the number girls he was allowed to have as "his" at any given time. If he stretched his heart out that much, it was likely to wear thin. But each of the girls in the house were worming their way under his skin.
Xander had a big weakness for women.
"What do you need?"
"Chloe. Do you think she . . ." Molly seemed to shake herself. "It's just, suicide is a mortal sin."
Xander blinked. "Is that because you die from it?"
Molly giggled slightly, her eyes wide. "No. It's because, um, life is a gift. And when you commit suicide, you throw that gift away, back in G--in the creator's face. It means that when you commit that sin, you go straight to hell."
"Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars."
"Er, yeah." Molly wiped at her eyes again. "You don't think that she. . . ." Her eyes dropped to the floor, and Xander's followed automatically. He half expected to see a portal to hell open up at his feet. Which would suck, because then he'd probably have to rebuild the entire second floor of the house.
"Molly." He reached out a hand, but let it stop just short of her chin. She peered up at him. "I don't know. I don't have all the answers. But . . . well, it seems to me that you shouldn't punish someone just for being scared."
Molly nodded, sniffling slightly. "Thank you."
"No problem. Now go to sleep, huh? How do you think Kennedy's going to react if you're falling asleep on your training tomorrow?" He cracked open the door to the bedroom behind him, hoping she'd take the hint and go downstairs.
"Yeah." She smiled again. "She can be a real witch." Her eyes widened as she realized that he'd been opening the door to Willow and Kennedy's room. "I mean, not a witch, they're good, right, um except for the whole 'thou shalt not suffer'-- Oh, gosh, forget I said that. Any of it. Please?" She was looking over his shoulder now, where he could almost feel Willow's eyes. "Night!"
She dashed off down the stairs. Xander turned into the bedroom.
Willow sat on the bed, smirking. "She's cute. In a kind of thoroughly irritating kind of way."
Xander just shrugged.
* * *
The next morning found Willow hard at work researching again, this time perched on the steps to the back porch, while Kennedy lead the potentials through their warm ups. Buffy watched from the side-lines as she mentally prepared herself for another early morning at the high-school, guiding teenagers through the day to day hells of public education and puberty, while her mind was still lurking on the more esoteric hells of, well, hell. It seemed like this morning Molly was Kennedy's example-du-jour. Buffy just hoped that the girl wouldn't take the criticism as personally as Chloe did.
Yes, Buffy knew she'd messed up yesterday. She knew she needed to lighten up on her troops if she wanted to keep morale up. On the other hand, it seemed to Buffy as though morale was as up as it was going to get. What she needed now wasn't happy friends, what she needed was soldiers. People willing to give up everything they were to see the world saved.
Buffy needed people like her. Maybe that meant they had to be as burnt out inside as she felt most days. But if that's what it took. . . . The image of thousands of Turok-han was burned into the back of Buffy's head. She might have turned down the demon-injection the men were offering her, but she couldn't ignore the vision.
It kept her from sleeping. It kept her from concentrating and being the best "general" she could be. But if she knew even a little bit of what was coming, it would help them.
Willow gasped softly behind her, but Buffy paid it no mind. There were all sorts of things online that might make Willow make that noise, especially if she was researching what was happening to Xander. It wasn't until Willow hissed "Buffy!" that she turned around.
"What's up, Willow?"
"I was just checking my history, to find the pages I was looking at when Ta--when the First showed up. And I found this."
Willow tilted her laptop to one side to give Buffy a better view of the monitor. Buffy frowned. She let her eyes scan swiftly over the text. "So?"
"Buffy, *look*." Willow highlighted a bit of text. Buffy cursed softly.
"That's not good."
"No kidding?"
"Who would have--?"
"Three guesses." Willow stared into the group of potentials. "And the first two don't count."
"Dammit." Buffy straightened. "Molly."
to be continued....
<--{3}-->
And now, back to bed. For inspite of an entire day of snow fall, there's little to no accumulation on the roads, and even if there were, my office is open in three feet of snow.
Hell, my office is open when the Goverment closes down. There's nothing that closes this damned place down. ARRRRRRGGGH!
(And speaking of damnation, and hell, and such things, the temp came back AGAIN! I swear, he's like, haunting me or something!)