The Road Back, Part 57a
The Road continues
Part 57a
Part 57
UC Sunnydale, Sunnydale, California. November 29, 2001
Not all that long after the baby named Connor Alexander had been born to Angel and Darla down in Los Angeles, Willow Rosenberg wasn’t asleep; despite the fact that it was roughly two o’clock in the morning. Because she was preparing a magic spell - in secret.
It had been two weeks now since that conversation in the Magic Box, where the others had vetoed her idea to experiment with Lethe’s Bramble in order to ‘fix’ what had happened regarding Xander Harris so long ago. Willow had not taken that decision well; in fact, trying to overcompensate for the incorrect perception that the Scooby gang didn’t trust her not to screw up, she had become more determined than ever to do whatever she had to - in order to clean up the mess she’d made during her senior year of high school.
< Thank God Tara isn’t here, > Willow thought with the tiniest bit of guilt as she continued the preparations in their dorm room. < I’d hate to have to ask her to lie for me, if anyone tried to find out what I got up to tonight! That’s it, I’m almost done... >
At last, the red-haired witch was ready to begin. Disregarding all the dangers associated with the rite she was about to undertake, Willow started to chant:
“For Xander Harris, this I char. Let Lethe’s Bramble do its chore. Purge his mind of alien memories grim, of pains from ancient slights and sins.”
Willow struck a match, and set light to the small collection of flowers before her on the floor of the dorm room. She then reached into a small pouch on her belt, took out a clear crystal and held it within the flames.
“When the fire goes out, when the crystal turns black, let the spell be cast. Tabula rasa, tabula rasa, tabula ra-”
Suddenly, Willow stopped. She could feel *something*; a gathering of energy in the room. A presence that caused her to abandon her spell, just as it was about to reach its climax. Which was all for the best, as right now Xander was with the Transuding Furies; and the three sisters would *not* have been happy campers if Harris had passed out whilst right in the middle of...pleasuring them.
Willow started to say, “What the-”
“You are stronger than I imagined, little one. Most would not, indeed could not have sensed me, but you did.”
Willow got up from where she had been kneeling on the floor, and looked at the source of the Russian-accented voice. The redhead was surprised to see an old crone standing next to her bed. < Okay, where did she come from? >
“Who are you?” Willow asked as she mentally prepared a defensive spell.
“The better question is, who are you? I thought I knew of everyone with such magical potential. And yet I was wrong.” The woman shuffled forward a little bit, using a wooden stick as a cane. “Well, but I am Baba Yaga. Maybe you’ve heard of me, da?”
Willow blinked; she indeed had heard the name. “You can’t be, she’s just a myth!”
“Like vampires and demons, little one? You should know that most ‘myths’ in this world are actually based on truth. After all, you live on top of this Hellmouth.” The ancient-looking witch sat down on the chair at Tara’s desk. “Now, I know you Americans sometimes lack manners. But you know who I am, so shouldn’t you introduce yourself? After all, I came all this way from Mother Russia to see you.”
Willow just stared for a few seconds. This was not how she’d expected her late-night activities to unfold...
“Do not worry; I do not plan to steal your soul or some such thing. Heh, if I wanted it, there are much easier, better ways to do so than by telling me your name.” Suddenly the old crone was replaced with a breathtakingly beautiful young woman, sitting with her legs crossed.
“Okay, this is weird,” Willow said, blinking at the sight of Baba Yaga’s true face.
“Well, perhaps. Nyet, there is no ‘perhaps’! But tell me, young lady who still has not introduced herself - why the desire to modify the Timetripper’s memories?”
“Timetripper, you mean...Xander?” Willow’s eyes suddenly widened in excitement.
“Da, little one, the very same. Such a wonderful young man, Alexei Antoniovich - I enjoyed meeting him a while back. One day we will meet again, for he and I are destined to cross paths once more. Although I hope his comrades will not be there when the time comes. They were bothersome at times, most overprotective,” Baba Yaga sighed, flipping her hair to one side.
Willow narrowed her eyes, focusing only on what was important to her. “Xander, you’ve seen Xander recently?”
“By all the discredited Tsars, little one, you heard me say that.” Baba Yaga looked at Willow carefully. “I doubt you are the Slayer. If one of the Chosen was a magic user, I would have definitely heard of it. One of her friends, maybe?”
Willow shook her head in disbelief. “Okay, let’s play along and see what happens. I’m Willow.”
“Willow, heh? Willow Rosenberg, da, da, I have heard of you. I am Baba Yaga, I am pleased to meet you,” the ten thousand-year-old witch smiled mysteriously.
“Well, uh, same here, I-I-I guess. So do you-” Willow started to say.
“That spell you were attempting to cast just now. Dark magic, da? But I do not think you work for the ultimate Evil, as you would have known better than to try and blast through that protection spell that the Furies put in place,” Baba Yaga interrupted the younger witch.
“The Furies?” Willow asked tentatively, looking concerned that Baba Yaga knew what she’d been up to tonight.
“You do not know of the Furies? Nyet, that cannot be! How do you not know of them? Just who is mentoring you, where did you learn your magic?” Baba Yaga briefly looked surprised.
“Well, a lot of it I learned by myself, back in high school - uh, a friend taught me the rest...” Willow stammered out.
“Your friend, is he or she accomplished with the use of magic?” Baba Yaga asked.
“Well, I-I-I think he’s very knowledgeable about magic. He’s, he’s very well versed in all the materials...” Willow said, deciding to leave Tara’s name out of this for now - just in case.
“A ‘he’ you say, interesting - ah, let me guess; a Watcher. Where there is a Slayer, a Watcher is sure to be close by. So the Council knows of you, da? Odd, very odd. I would have thought that you would have been sent to one of the Covens in England by now, Willow Rosenberg. To unlock all your potential.”
“Covens? Giles has never mentioned...” Willow trailed off, suddenly deciding to reassert her control of the situation. “Xander, you said you’d seen Xander recently. How is he?” she said with firmness.
“Ah, so there is strength when you want to summon it forth. Again, interesting,” Baba Yaga said with a wide smirk.
“Answer the question,” Willow said firmly.
Baba Yaga leaned forward and narrowed her eyes. “Perhaps I need to remind you that I have been in this world a lot longer than you, Willow Rosenberg. I was an old woman when Abraham, the father of your people, was only a mewling infant. I was old even when human beings were still living in caves! Little one, I have granted you some leeway with me. Do not abuse it!”
“Xander,” was the short response from Willow, her Resolve Face clearly visible. “Tell me how he is.”
“By the blessed bones of Catherine the Great...” Baba Yaga abruptly smiled. “I cannot recall the last time someone has challenged me like this. You know that I could squash you like a grape, da? You have the potential, but little else; it will be a *long* time before I need to fear you.”
“Tell me how Xander’s doing.” Willow hated to admit it, but she was helpless to do anything with regard to how Baba Yaga was, well, *playing* with her. With her current power level, she might be able to last five seconds against the other witch if Baba Yaga unleashed her magical arsenal - and according to rumor, Willow knew, the legendary witch had a *lot* of power up her sleeves.
“Da, it has been a long time. Too long, perhaps, since I faced a true challenge. Well, there was that Nazi magician back during the war. I must admit, I like you much more than I liked him...” Baba Yaga mused as she leaned back against the chair. “But to answer your question, the Timetripper is well. He was quite spirited, in fact, before we parted company a few weeks ago. Da, da, he has become quite famous in the circles I travel. He is also well protected, as you would have found out if that spell of yours had been completed.”
< What’s that supposed to mean? > Willow asked herself, before abruptly dismissing the question. She knew that the odds were she wouldn’t like the answer. “Is Xander in danger?”
“Of course he is, little one. We all are. Did you not know even that much? The First is on the move. Your friend is a major obstacle to its plans. It wants very much to remove that obstacle,” Baba Yaga sighed.
“The First? You mean the First Evil?” Willow asked, recalling what Angel had said a few months back; and what Xander had written in his letters to Giles.
“Of course, Willow Rosenberg. You have much to learn. If only it could be otherwise, but I can project myself here for such a short period of time...” Baba Yaga thought for a second. “Nyet, that will not work. There is only one option; da, it is decided.”
“What’s decided?” the redhead wanted to know.
“I will teach you.”
“WHAT?” Willow suddenly looked officially freaked.
“I will admit, it has been a while since I last had an apprentice. Nyet, nyet, I have never actually had one. I have had familiars and pets, but no apprentices. I like the idea, it is - something new. Of course, I will have to make room for you in my cabin...maybe somewhere in the south wing...” the ancient witch trailed off, looking utterly lost in thought.
“Cabin, what are you talking about? You have a place in the woods outside of town? I can’t move out there. Wait, according to the legend - don’t you have a house built on chicken legs?!” Willow asked, her eyes wide.
“Da. It is actually quite comfortable; I have lived there for millennia,” Baba Yaga smiled fondly at the memories.
“So, uh, how long will the commute be? I mean, I-I have college classes and, and hanging with my friends,” Willow said surprising herself that she would even seriously consider the idea.
“Commute, what a novel idea. Nyet, silly child, you cannot walk to my cabin and come back here daily. You would come with me to live in Russia, of course, for as long as you need to.”
Willow folded her arms. This was now *too* weird. “What? Russia? You gotta be kidding me! No way, I am not leaving my friends - not to mention Tara! Now tell me, where’s Xander?”
“You will not accept? Willow Rosenberg, this is an offer the likes of which any witch would sell their own grandmother for me to grant to them! How can you turn me down?” Baba Yaga asked with a playful look.
“Because I screwed up like that once before, and I’m not doing it again. Now for the last time, where the heck is Xander?!” Willow shouted, surprising herself as well as Baba Yaga.
“Very fascinating. You are strong willed in addition to having such potential, little one. In a century or so, you will truly give me cause to worry...” Baba Yaga stood up suddenly. “Da, I shall do it.” She looked at Willow and suddenly she smiled as a thought came to her. “You and the Timetripper, ah, the potential and power your offspring would have. Such things I would be able to teach them, to shepherd and mould them...” She clapped her hands together.
“I will have to move some things around. My cabin will not just move itself, well - nyet, actually, it will.” She laughed. “Ha, I can just imagine the look on the border guard’s face...I shall come here to teach you, Willow Rosenberg. This Hellmouth stinks, but I have tolerated worse. Much to do, but do not worry. I will be back.” And with that, Baba Yaga just vanished.
“Oh dear...”
Willow looked around. The presence she had felt while Baba Yaga was in the dorm room was now gone. < Oh, jeepers. Now, now, how am I gonna explain all this to the rest of the gang? >
But then, something Baba Yaga had said suddenly registered with her mind. “And hey, gay now!”
Somewhat tellingly, Willow quickly decided not to say anything concerning what had happened just now, to any of her friends and family.
*******
1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale, California. November 30, 2001
Dawn Summers grimaced to herself, as she stared at the Doublemeat Palace uniform she had acquired today after school.
The young woman knew that things were starting to get financially tough in the Summers household. Ever since 9/11, business at Joyce’s gallery had really started to go downhill; and the Magic Box wasn’t doing so hot either, much to Anya’s dismay. Dawn had lost track of all the meetings her mom and Giles had had over the past two weeks, on how to get their finances under control - including one suggestion to get investors for the art gallery, which hadn’t turned out so well.
Because the ‘investors’ were all vampires, who had stupidly wanted to send the Slayer a ‘message’ of some sort - before Buffy had slaughtered them all, once she’d figured out what they were.
In any case, it had eventually occurred to the Key that her working part-time at the magic store wasn’t really helping. Dawn had figured out that the money Giles paid her could just as easily be used to help pay the family’s utilities bill, or whatever. Despite the female teen’s working hard to earn her salary, it wasn’t *extra* cash in any sense of the word.
And it wasn’t like Buffy could help by holding down a regular job, either; she was still studying at UC Sunnydale, and as has been said, the Slayer’s nights were full slaying the vampires and evil demons that infested this town. So Dawn had figured out that it was up to her to try and relieve the family’s financial stress a little.
Unfortunately, though, there just weren’t all that many places in Sunnydale interested in hiring a 15-year-old girl who was still a high school student, and who could only work part-time.
“Oh, geez.” Dawn said in disgust, as she picked up her new Doublemeat Palace uniform, and tossed it into her closet.
Dawn was *so* not looking forward to the first time someone from school would come to eat at the fast-food establishment, and see her wearing that stupid-ass hat which was part of her ridiculous-looking uniform.
*******
A place where nothing is as what it seems. December 16, 2001
Kennedy Greene, vampire Slayer and Chosen One, looked up into the night sky. < Hang on a second, this isn’t Cleveland... > the brunette thought to herself in sudden confusion.
She saw how storm clouds were gathering around a tall building. Her brow furrowed for a second, before the Slayer recognized it as the Empire State Building. < How the hell did I end up in New York? >
She looked around the street as people ran around. A loud roar suddenly pierced the night air, and the people on the street started running - fast.
Kennedy looked up again and saw a huge, four-winged, dragon-like creature burst out of the Empire State Building roughly halfway up, with huge blocks of masonry falling to the street below. Nearby a homeless man started screaming, “The Ascension, the Ascension is upon us!!”
The panicked crowd started fleeing as the dragon-like demon swooped down upon them, grabbing a few unfortunates and swallowing them whole. Kennedy suddenly found both her arms holding a sword. Lifting her weapons, she started running forward to attack the creature.
But before the Slayer could engage in combat against the flying demon, the homeless man that had initially raised the alarm grabbed her right arm. “The Ascension, you and him must stop it, the Ascension must not happen!!”
“What are you-?” Kennedy asked in confusion, before she was blinded by a bright white light.
The brunette Slayer shielded her eyes as she turned to look at the source of the unexpected illumination. Standing in front of her was a knight, his armor glowing with an intense white light. Regrettably, the man’s face was hidden behind his silver visor. “Whoooooooo...”
Kennedy abruptly sat up in her bed. She looked around at her bedroom, and ran her arm across her sweaty forehead as she tossed the covers aside. “Goddamn Slayer dreams! Can’t I get a normal night’s sleep anymore? To think, I actually used to be *jealous* of that Buffy girl for how often she used to get 'em...”
*******
Great Russell Street, London, England. December 17, 2001
“A white knight, you say?” Roger Wyndham-Pryce asked in astonishment.
“Yes sir, Mr. Zabuto was quite clear on that part of it. The Slayer dream ended with the appearance of a medieval night in white armor,” the aide answered as he stood next to the desk. Sunlight filtered through the windows of the office of the head of the Watchers Council. “I must admit, I’m not sure what the significance of that is.”
“Well, Slayer dreams are always hard to interpret,” Roger sighed. “Still, this mention of an ‘ascension’ isn’t something that could be mistaken for anything other than what it is. Good Lord, two of them in as many years? I do hope this isn’t becoming a pattern of some sort.”
The aide nodded. “Yes sir.”
“Well. I suppose we should let the Americans know what’s about to happen in New York - it *was* New York, wasn’t it?”
“Yes sir, according to the Slayer the Empire State Building was unmistakeable.”
“Very well. Contact Smithers and relay the information.”
The aide nodded. “And the Slayer?”
“What about her?” Roger asked.
“Well, sir, the dream did say that she and this ‘white knight’ character had to stop the Ascension. Both of them, not just one or the other. So, should I make arrangements with Mr. Zabuto to send his charge to New York?”
Wyndham-Pryce leaned back in his chair. “You’re quite right, of course. Yes, see to that, and coordinate with the Americans while you’re at it. I imagine they’d get rather paranoid over a pure demon causing utter havoc in one of their cities. Contact Zabuto and let him know the situation, and for Smithers to expect company.”
*******
Siberian Trip Wire headquarters, Georgetown, Washington D.C. December 18, 2001
“So the Empire State Building is going to give birth to a dragon?” Joshua Cleburne asked in astonishment.
Alan Smithers rolled his eyes. “That’s hardly accurate, General Cleburne. Granted, Slayer dreams are hard to interpret. But right now, all we know for sure is that the Empire State Building will play a role in the latest attempt at Ascension, by some human mage trying to become a pure demon.”
“Which is worrisome, as the Empire State Building has a history in these matters,” Dr. Irving Hollins, also known as the Wizard, said as he typed on the computer in front of him. The computer whirred as a compartment opened, and Hollins took out a CD. He placed it on the desk and said, “This disc contains the files from the various investigations after the building was first opened. It also covers all the, ah, ‘events’ that have transpired there over the decades.”
Xander took the disc. “Bad news?”
The Wizard nodded. “Oh yes, shortly after it opened there were a series of murders that were confirmed as the work of a demon. Over the years, the building has seen more than its fair share of ghosts, werewolves, demons and warlocks. There has been some speculation of the supernatural having some sort of mystical influence over the place, actually.”
“Like a building built over a Hellmouth?” Xander asked with an upraised eyebrow.
“Not as bad as that, but I suspect that its history played a part as the spot chosen by our mystery mage to attempt to reach Ascension,” Hollins replied. The computer in front of him beeped. He opened the email that had just arrived. After a few seconds, the teenage boy frowned.
“Everything alright?” Xander asked as he put the disc back on the desk.
“Just an email from my colleague, Dr. Cooper; he can be quite vexatious at times, still - enough about that,” Hollins said. He headed over a second CD to Xander. “Here are some possible leads for you in New York City. Sources of magical supplies, magic practitioners of note, demon information sources and the like. It should help you in your investigation.”
“And why would he need this, since he’s not going to New York?” Cleburne asked in a loud voice.
Esther Marcum looked up from the file she was reading on the couch. “Well, Joshua, the Slayer dream did specifically mention him, if I recall correctly.”
“Actually, it didn’t. Just some dude in a white suit of armor.”
“Really, Joshua, you should know better. The vision symbolically referred to a white knight, which is Xander here,” Hollins said, gesturing off-handedly.
“What?” Cleburne said while Xander grimaced in distaste, recalling just *who* had given him that particular nickname - and *why*.
“Xander, you are aware that Joshua met with the vampire known as Angel several months back, yes?” Hollins asked as Xander nodded his head. He knew that Cleburne had been in Los Angeles and met with his former roommate. “Well, they discussed quite a few things. Afterwards, a synopsis of the conversation was prepared. I reviewed that synopsis. During the meeting, Angel mentioned an incident at the Sunnydale General Hospital where his, err, alter ego Angelus referred to you as ‘Buffy’s White Knight’.”
“So just how did you get Angel to become such a wealth of information?” Xander remembered how, in the past, his undead acquaintance normally was not all that forthcoming a person.
“Would you believe that Irishmen can’t hold their liquor as well as they think can?” Cleburne commented, whilst looking annoyed over how he’d forgotten all about the ‘white knight’ thing Angel had mentioned.
“You got him drunk?!” Xander looked amazed.
“Let’s just say I eventually came to the conclusion that moonshine was a brand new experience for him,” was the Marine’s wry response.
Marcum chuckled. “I remember that time you brought your hooch liquor to a barbecue at my house, Joshua. Ty keeps asking if you’re ever going to bring some more. You’re not!” she said sternly, as Cleburne opened his mouth to reply.
“Be all that as it may...” Hollins continued, getting back on topic. “The Slayer dream featured a man in a white glowing suit of armor, a so-called ‘white knight’. I know of no one else referred to as a white knight within the circles that a vampire Slayer would travel in. It is a reasonable supposition that you are in fact the entity referred to in the Cleveland Slayer’s dream as being one of the two people who will stop the Ascension in New York.”
“Hey, did I mention that Bathory woman? Remember her? Vampire queen, making nasty noises about the kid? The kind of woman who her own king was so freaked out by, before she became a vampire, that he had her walled up in a castle? The kid is her prey right now,” Cleburne said warningly.
“Come on, Cleburne. This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been hunted by a dangerous woman,” Xander commented sarcastically.
“Not on my watch,” Cleburne said obstinately.
“So what’s the answer, lock me up in an ivory tower 'til all the evil nasties in this world are gone? Never gonna happen,” Xander retorted.
“He’s right,” Esther said, earning herself a glare from the USMC general. “There is a level of risk in what he does, in what we all do. I remember you talking one time about what it means being a Marine, Joshua. What’s that saying you like to quote, ‘Give me a fast ship because I intend to go in harm’s way,’ or something like that?”
Esther wanted Cleburne to agree to Xander going on the mission, after all he did run field operations for the Siberians and trying to overrule him could lead to problems in the chain of command. < We need a united front now more than ever, after all. >
Smithers spoke up, “The dream specifically referred to a white knight, as you say. I myself have great familiarity with the various Slayer dreams listed in the Council’s archives. Based on all the information at hand, I must agree completely that the dream specifically refers to Lt. Harris. Thus, if the Slayer’s prophetic dream indicates that he will play a role in stopping the Ascension, then our young friend here must be present in New York for that to happen.”
“I don’t like it.” Cleburne sounded like a stubborn old mule that refused to move, despite all the cajoling attempts being made.
Xander suddenly smiled. “Hey, I’ve already helped stop one attack on New York this year. So I don’t wanna sit around in my apartment in Virginia while a second one happens!”
Cleburne looked at the people in the office, it was clear he was facing a united front. “I still don’t like this.”
“Oh, yes, we gathered that,” Esther commented idly.
“Well, maybe there’s something you all forgot. This vampire Slayer who had the prophet-y dream last night? According to what the kid told us way back when, she was in Sunnydale before it turned into a big sinkhole in that other timeline. This Kennedy person is someone the kid knows, or rather knew - and we all know what *that* means, right?” Cleburne suddenly stared directly at Harris, who looked away in annoyance.
Hollins frowned. “Hmmm, there is that. Xander - that is grounds for concern, you must admit.”
Xander shrugged. “It’s not like it was before I went to England, and drank out of the Holy Grail. Nothing as bad as what it used to be, anyway. These days, Riley and Graham? There are some headaches, but I can tough it out.”
“That’s different. You only stay in contact with them for very limited periods of time,” Esther said. “How long was this Kennedy person in Sunnydale with you?”
“Uh - six months, more or less. The first half of 2003, when the First was making its big move,” Xander said reluctantly. He did not enjoy the slight headache associated with recalling those memories.
“How close to her were you?” Smithers asked.
“She was, uh, dating Willow, so there was - a fair amount of interaction.” Xander only flinched a little bit when he mentioned Willow’s name, something that Cleburne noticed.
Cleburne looked at the Wizard. “Level with us. How bad will it be?”
“I don’t know. The reaction might not be as severe compared to meeting with the other Slayer, or the other people he knew,” Irving shrugged.
“Or it could be worse, right?” Cleburne demanded.
“Unlikely, at worst it will be approximately the same. Most likely, the severity of the headaches will be connected to proximity - the level of contact with this Kennedy individual. Just as it has been with everyone else Xander has encountered that he knew in the previous timeline,” Hollins stated.
“How sure of that are you?” Cleburne was now sounding irritated.
“As sure as I can be.”
“Hey, I’ll cope somehow. Take a lot of painkillers, whatever,” Xander offered. “This is a freaking Ascension we’re dealing with here, remember? My personal discomfort, not so much of a priority!”
“Are you sure? Because putting aside the gung-ho act - Cleburne has definitely been rubbing off on you over the past two years, hasn’t he? - you *are* going to be risking death by neurological meltdown upon meeting with this person. No one will force you to do this, and we’ll understand if you choose not to,” Esther said gently.
“Thanks for the thought, Mrs. Marcum, but like Smithers here said - the dream mentioned me. And I don’t think the Powers That Be would have sent that message, if the result was that my head would instantly explode when I see Kennedy!”
Cleburne and Esther exchanged a glance. Joshua sighed and said, “Oh, what the hell - I never get my own way with you people anymore as it is, so why should this time be any different? Anyway, Fletcher goes with him, as does Gunny. I’d go myself, but I probably can’t coordinate the ops in the Middle East and the Philippines from the road. Those two can keep a lid on things until I get there, if something goes screwy.”
“There. Was that so hard, General?” Hollins asked kindly.
“I have only one thing to say to you, Mr. Wizard. Remember that question for *when*, not if, things get weird!” Cleburne replied grumpily.
*******
Raiden residence, Los Angeles, California. The same time
Gwen went to her bathroom, grimaced at the sight staring back at her in the mirror, popped open the bottle of Seltrex, and dry-swallowed her highly powerful migraine medication.
The visions had been getting worse and worse over the past month or so, the hangovers lasting longer and longer. Which, from a certain point of view, was hardly surprising; after all, Jasmine’s plan pretty much demanded that her future mother be broken down enough in order to eventually be willing to be transformed by Skip, both in terms of her body and mind. Now that Connor had finally been born, there was no time left to lose in the rogue Power’s opinion.
For the first time since becoming a messenger for the PTBs - ‘inheriting’ the visions from Cordelia at the Southern California Museum of Natural History, over a year ago - Gwen was starting to become afraid. Afraid that the darn things would eventually kill her.
< What was it Xander said that day? Oh yeah - ‘be careful. Taking over Cordy’s destiny like this, whatever happened that caused her to die by 2004 - it could happen to *you* now.’ Jesus, but I wish I’d taken his warning more seriously, > the Electra Girl thought to herself grouchily. < Sometimes, I wish I’d never gone to that friggin’ museum at all... >
But deep down, Gwen didn’t really mean that. After all, if she’d never become Angel’s new Vision Girl - then she’d never have become the person she now was. Never would have lost the hard mercenary edge she’d possessed. Never would have met the man of her dreams...
The one and only Charles Gunn.
*******
New York City, New York. December 20, 2011
Kennedy looked up at the Empire State Building, the sidewalk around her filled with pedestrians hurrying on their way to wherever it was they were going. Sam Zabuto was standing next to her, likewise looking up at what had once been the tallest building in the world.
“A most impressive construct,” the Jamaican man observed.
“Meh,” Kennedy replied, looking fairly jaded about the whole thing. “Dad first brought me here when I was six. After you’ve seen it a few dozen times, it kinda loses its ‘wow’ factor, ya know?”
“Americans. Sometimes, you truly fail to see the wonders you create,” Zabuto responded. He then noticed a balding man in a suit walking up to them.
“You Sam Zabuto?” the stranger asked.
“Yes I am, and this is my charge, Kennedy,” the Watcher nodded at his ward. “I assume that you are Agent Fletcher?”
“That I am. C’mon, the others are already inside. We’ve rented office space with the cover of a new PR firm, and the others are all waiting to meet you two in there.”
*******
Within the Empire State Building. A few moments later
A receptionist looked up and smiled as Kennedy and Sam entered the PR firm’s office suite, Malcolm Fletcher right behind them.
“Good morning, welcome to Sterling & Carter. How may I help you?” Then the Siberian Trip Wire operative saw her colleague, and instantly dropped the act. “Agent Fletcher, the others are waiting for you in the main conference room.”
“Thank you, Amy.” The FBI-slash-STW agent and the other two walked through the lobby down a hallway into the room in question.
Gunny and Smithers looked up immediately from where they were sitting around the table. “This the new Slayer?” Gunny asked, and Alan immediately nodded.
“Ms. Greene. Mr. Zabuto, I’m-” the Englishman started to say.
“Alan Smithers, yes, indeed,” Zabuto finished for him. “We met once several years ago, Mr. Smithers, before your difficulties with Quentin Travers.”
“Yes, well, I suppose my reputation was more or less established with those...difficulties. I also remember you - and I heard about your previous Slayer named Kendra, by the way. I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”
Zabuto bowed his head for a second. “Thank you. That was - a very difficult time.” He turned to Kennedy. “Mr. Smithers, here, is a Watcher of some repute; someone the Council has seconded as liaison to our current hosts. Alan Smithers, Kennedy Greene.” He turned to Gunny. “And you are?”
“Sergeant Charles Rose, sir, USMC. Think me of the babysitter for this little adventure,” Gunny said with a small smirk.
“Babysitter? I don’t need a babysitter,” Kennedy snorted.
“He’s not here for you, Ms. Greene,” Alan said to the soon-to-be 19-year-old girl.
“Then who?” Kennedy demanded.
“He’s here for me.”
Sam and Kennedy turned to the source of the voice at the doorway at the other side of the room. There stood Xander Harris, flanked by Fred and Oz.
“So who are you?” Kennedy said, frowning as she saw Xander start rubbing the bridge of his nose in pain.
A wide-eyed Sam Zabuto supplied the answer. “Alexander Harris. Otherwise known as the Timetripper...”
*******
The STW office conference room. A few minutes later
“So you’re this Timetripper guy that everyone talks about in hushed tones, huh? Gotta say, I’m not seeing what all the fuss is about yet.”
Xander briefly glanced over his shoulder at Kennedy. He was standing alone, looking out a window at the Manhattan skyline, and doing his best to deal with the migraine that was threatening to split open his skull. < I wonder if she knows about that? Probably not... >
“It’s safer that way. And I would have worn the T-shirt, but the suits did *not* like that idea. They mentioned something about copyright violations,” Xander said in a low, gravelly voice.
Kennedy smirked, appreciating the attempted humor. “So, what do I call you? Timetripper, TT, Secret Agent Man?”
“Xander, Kennedy. My friends call me Xander,” Xander said in that low, pained voice.
“You saying we’re friends? We’ve only just met, fella,” Kennedy said flippantly, even though the playful look had left her face.
“We’ve met before, at least the way I remember it. Fought side by side, even.”
Kennedy looked at Xander in silence for a few seconds. “Yeah, Sam told me about that. I’m still not sure I fully believe it, though-”
“Believe it,” Xander cut her off tonelessly, rubbing his forehead. “I know you. You want proof? Fine, do the words ‘Gone With The Wind’ and figuring out your sexuality mean anything to you?”
< Yeah, they sure do... > Kennedy thought to herself in amazement before saying, “So - you really do know me? Another version of me? In that other timeline, I mean; in the future, your past?” There was now a familiar, at least to Xander, sound of awe in the junior Slayer’s voice.
“Yeah. You were there in Sunnydale, during 2003. You - fought well.” Xander looked back out at the skyline, trying to minimise the pain. “You weren’t a Slayer 'til right at the end, but you still fought well.”
< Holy cow. > “According to rumor, a lot of people died then. Did I make it out?” Kennedy asked wonderingly.
“You did. A lot of people didn’t, but you did.” Xander remembered Anya, who hadn’t survived that terrible day. Of course, she was alive now and an item with Andrew Wells, the guy for whom she had sacrificed herself in order to save his life from some attacking Bringers.
The very same nerd who, according to Xander’s information, had come up with the idea on how to save Darla’s life in this brave new world, when she had been about to give birth to Connor a few weeks back.
By getting Cordelia Chase to give birth to the miracle child instead.
Xander still wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
“So you look up people you knew from before, give them the low-down on who’s going to win American Idol or whatever?” Kennedy asked.
Xander shook his head, wincing. “Doesn’t work that way. Being with someone I knew from...before...causes problems. Really bad headaches. The kind where your head feels like it’s going to blow up.”
Kennedy thought for a second. “Why aren’t you in pain now? You seem alright to me.”
“I’m a good actor, plus I took a whole boat-load of painkillers before coming here. There’s some people I literally can’t be around, without my brain turning into mush. Others like you, I can sorta tolerate their presence. Even though it still hurts like a mad bastard,” Xander said bitingly.
“Oh. Sorry. And I’m not a star player, huh? Bummer.” Kennedy thought about it for a second. “So why are you here, anyway? Seems to me like this is something that some of the other secret agent men could handle, right?”
“Your Slayer dream said I had to be here.”
“Say what?” Kennedy demanded in confusion.
“That white knight you said you saw show up outta nowhere. I’ve been called that on occasion. The big brains figured that it was the PTBs’ invitation to the party for me,” Xander replied, his voice lowering even more.
“Wow. So, how many nicknames do you go by? Timetripper. White knight. Anything else they call you?” Kennedy demanded.
“The Zeppo. The Donut Boy. Lots of other kind of ‘boys’. But those are literally from another life - and the result of a pissed-off ex-girlfriend,” Xander said in a monotone.
Kennedy was silent for a moment. “So tell me something. You’ve been through an Ascension before, right?”
“Yeah. Two - well, the same one, twice.”
“So, how do we stop one?”
“Best way is, don’t let it start,” Xander replied, his voice thickening. “Hopefully, this guy hasn’t become invulnerable to harm yet...”
*******
The Magic Box, Sunnydale, California. A while later
Jonathan Levinson listened to the rest of the gang arguing all around him, but only with half an ear. His attention was mostly focused on the rat that was Amy Madison, which was running around in its cage; the young woman was someone who should have been turned back into a human being by now, but hadn’t.
Amy was still trapped in rodent form because, here and now, Willow hadn’t followed her previous path of diving headlong into reckless and addictive use of magic.
Not everything about this brave new world was positive in nature, after all.
*******
STW conference room, Empire State Building, New York City. December 21, 2011
Tonight was the night of the winter solstice, the longest night of the year, but oddly - nobody seemed to care. There were other priorities, after all. Everyone was sitting within the conference room, poring through documents and trying to come up with ideas on the most appropriate course of action concerning the Ascension.
“We’re looking at this all wrong,” Oz commented suddenly.
“Okay, how’s that?” Gunny asked.
“This isn’t Sunnydale or Los Angeles. A demon’s something that would stand out here in the Big Apple,” Oz replied.
“Okay. And?” Gunny prompted the werewolf.
Xander spoke up, “A demon couldn’t fly into the building or whatever, without being noticed. However, someone human could just walk right in - and then turn into that huge-ass dragon thing Kennedy saw in her dream.”
“So we know where; we just need to figure out who,” Fred said excitedly. “We need to figure out which office it’s going to happen in, right?”
Kennedy saw all eyes turn to her. “Don’t look at me, that thing was huge! I couldn’t tell you where exactly it showed its ugly face - all I know is, it exploded out of the building roughly halfway up. It could have been out of any one of a thousand different offices...”
“We need to narrow it down,” Xander replied, again rubbing the bridge of his nose in order to try to relieve the pain. < Damn it, this dosage obviously isn’t enough... >
“No idea how long it’s been in preparation, either. Back in Sunnydale, the Mayor spent over a hundred years getting ready for his shot,” Oz said stoically.
“Well, that’s the thing about being in the FBI; you get good at finding needles in a haystack,” Fletcher announced.
“True, but maybe we should start looking in a different haystack...” Xander said cryptically.
*******
Somewhere on the streets of New York City. A while later
Xander pulled the coat tighter against his body, trying to stay warm. In his view, this city was almost as bad as Chicago with regards to how cold it got during winter. Oz, Fred and Kennedy followed close behind him, with Xander’s security detail spread out and unobtrusively keeping an eye out for any possible dangers.
“So what’s the plan again? And how does this count as a different haystack?” Kennedy asked, trying to bury her annoyance at playing ‘follow the leader’ like this. Slayers did tend to develop an “I’m in charge” mindset the longer they lived, after all, and Kennedy had been Chosen 2 1/2 years ago now.
“Fletcher, Zabuto, Smithers and the others are trying find this guy by examining his getting ready to be a demon. We need to look at this from the other side,” Xander answered, not looking directly at her.
“What other side?” Kennedy was sincerely curious now.
“After the transformation, the demon’s hungry. It needs to feed,” Xander replied tonelessly.
“Yeah, and according to what I’ve read, it needs to eat people. Now, generally, people don’t stand still just before they’re about to be eaten, they run. The demon, it - it wouldn’t really have that much strength to chase them all over the place,” Fred reasoned. “Not right after the transformation, what with the birth trauma and all.”
“Back in Sunnydale - the Mayor’s solution was to recruit vampires to corral everyone into an area where he could snack on them,” Oz said slowly.
“And I’m guessing this guy will probably be doing the same thing here,” Xander added.
“Oh, now I get it!” Ms. Burkle said excitedly. “We find out who’s been recruiting a lot of vampire or demon muscle lately, and that should lead us straight to the mage in question!”
“Right. So why are we here?” Kennedy asked. All this was very different from the way she and Zabuto operated in Cleveland; usually, her Watcher just gave her a target and she went out and Slayed it. Well, apart from patrol and that night back in August when those Vahrall demons had almost opened up the Hellmouth underneath that dance club - something she still didn’t know Xander, Oz and Fred had provided covert assistance with, in preventing Armageddon.
Normally she wouldn’t expect a direct answer, but Xander surprised her.
“Demon bar’s the best place to start looking for the things who’ll do a bad guy’s dirty work.” Xander held open the door leading into a dimly lit bar for the others.
Smoke filled the air as various vampires, demons and humans looked up at the new arrivals. After a few seconds, the buzz started up again and the patrons went back to their own business. Waiting until the security detail had slipped in by twos and threes, Xander and his entourage eventually made their way to the bar.
The bartender looked up as they approached. “Yeah?”
“Hey,” Xander said. “Four beers.”
The bartender - Xander could see the ragged ears and some bumps on his forehead that marked him as a demon - nodded towards an empty table in the back. “Welcome to sit over there, if you want. I don’t want no trouble. My goddamn insurance premium is high enough, already!”
“Why would we cause trouble?” Kennedy asked, her face slightly contorted from her Slayersense going crazy - thanks to so many of the undead being in such close proximity to her.
“Ya think I haven’t had a Slayer in here before? Back in '76, that black woman - Wood, or whatever her name was - she did her best to put me outta business,” the bartender said grouchily. “Plus I recognized you as well, Timetripper. Your face is staring to get famous, ya know? Bad things happen when *you* show up for a drink in a bar like mine. I just run a business, alright? And I don’t want it blown up, like what happened to that place in Chicago six months ago!”
Xander nodded. “Understood. Just don’t start telling everyone who I am, comprende? Or else this night is gonna be your last. You, and everyone else in this dump,” Harris warned the demon barman, before he led the others to the offered table.
“Think he’ll play ball?” Oz asked calmly, noting the stares from some fellow werewolves from the other end of the bar.
“If he’s smart, and I’m thinking he is, then - yeah,” Kennedy grumbled, looking back at the bartender. “Too bad; I was kinda wanting an excuse to tear this place apart.”
“Well, the night’s still young,” Fred shrugged.
The two guys and two girls waited as a demon waitress brought them the beers. They quickly drank them in silence.
“Now what?” Kennedy eventually asked.
“Well, I figure we’re in the right place. We, we just need to figure out whom to let tell us what we want to know,” Fred babbled.
“Or, they could just come straight to us,” Oz said, as he nodded towards two floppy-eared demons that were fast approaching their table.
They stopped in front of it in a respectful manner, staring exclusively at Xander. “Are you the Timetripper?” one of the supernatural creatures asked.
Xander scowled. “He’s just a myth.” < Plastic surgery, God damn it. Either that, or I gotta wear a disguise every time I go out in public from now on! >
“You seem to have a lot of protection for being a myth,” the second demon nodded its head towards the various members of the security detail surrounding the quartet’s table. “Or are they your fans?”
Kennedy looked at Xander. “You have fans? Why don’t I have fans?”
Xander shook his head, ignoring the pain as best he could. “I don’t recall ever getting a newsletter about a fan club. 'Course, my mailing address is something that I don’t check very often.”
“I was in Idaho,” the first demon said, staring at Harris like he knew him from back then.
Xander and Oz exchanged a look. Kennedy spoke up, “Idaho, as in that place we fly over?”
Xander turned to the demons. “Prove that you were in Idaho.”
“According to what that guy Toby Dupree told me happened, you actually stuck a gun into the sheriff’s crotch and said, ‘Sheriff Johnson, you got some 'splaining to do!’” the first Face-dancer said with a huge smile on its face.
Xander grimaced at the look Oz, Fred and Kennedy sent him. “Good enough. So, what can I do for you guys?”
“Well, actually, we were kinda wondering if there was anything we could do for you. Our people, uh, we like to pay our debts,” the second Face-dancer said sheepishly.
Xander quickly made a decision that was mostly based on instinct. “What can you tell me about someone hiring a lot of demon muscle lately? Maybe vamps, maybe something else.”
The two demons briefly stared at one another. “Well, there have been rumors about that sort of thing going around lately. Still, there are always rumors of some kind floating around places like this. If you don’t mind my asking, what’s something like that got to do with someone like you?”
Xander knew Cleburne would have a three-megaton fit if he was here right now, and heard him say what he was about to say; but he didn’t care. He made his own decisions, even if the brass might not like them. “There’s an Ascension coming. As in a pure demon walking the Earth - or flying through the air, or whatever. You understand what I’m saying?”
From the terrified looks that had appeared on the faces of the two non-violent demons, it seemed fairly obvious that they did.
Part 57a
Part 57
UC Sunnydale, Sunnydale, California. November 29, 2001
Not all that long after the baby named Connor Alexander had been born to Angel and Darla down in Los Angeles, Willow Rosenberg wasn’t asleep; despite the fact that it was roughly two o’clock in the morning. Because she was preparing a magic spell - in secret.
It had been two weeks now since that conversation in the Magic Box, where the others had vetoed her idea to experiment with Lethe’s Bramble in order to ‘fix’ what had happened regarding Xander Harris so long ago. Willow had not taken that decision well; in fact, trying to overcompensate for the incorrect perception that the Scooby gang didn’t trust her not to screw up, she had become more determined than ever to do whatever she had to - in order to clean up the mess she’d made during her senior year of high school.
< Thank God Tara isn’t here, > Willow thought with the tiniest bit of guilt as she continued the preparations in their dorm room. < I’d hate to have to ask her to lie for me, if anyone tried to find out what I got up to tonight! That’s it, I’m almost done... >
At last, the red-haired witch was ready to begin. Disregarding all the dangers associated with the rite she was about to undertake, Willow started to chant:
“For Xander Harris, this I char. Let Lethe’s Bramble do its chore. Purge his mind of alien memories grim, of pains from ancient slights and sins.”
Willow struck a match, and set light to the small collection of flowers before her on the floor of the dorm room. She then reached into a small pouch on her belt, took out a clear crystal and held it within the flames.
“When the fire goes out, when the crystal turns black, let the spell be cast. Tabula rasa, tabula rasa, tabula ra-”
Suddenly, Willow stopped. She could feel *something*; a gathering of energy in the room. A presence that caused her to abandon her spell, just as it was about to reach its climax. Which was all for the best, as right now Xander was with the Transuding Furies; and the three sisters would *not* have been happy campers if Harris had passed out whilst right in the middle of...pleasuring them.
Willow started to say, “What the-”
“You are stronger than I imagined, little one. Most would not, indeed could not have sensed me, but you did.”
Willow got up from where she had been kneeling on the floor, and looked at the source of the Russian-accented voice. The redhead was surprised to see an old crone standing next to her bed. < Okay, where did she come from? >
“Who are you?” Willow asked as she mentally prepared a defensive spell.
“The better question is, who are you? I thought I knew of everyone with such magical potential. And yet I was wrong.” The woman shuffled forward a little bit, using a wooden stick as a cane. “Well, but I am Baba Yaga. Maybe you’ve heard of me, da?”
Willow blinked; she indeed had heard the name. “You can’t be, she’s just a myth!”
“Like vampires and demons, little one? You should know that most ‘myths’ in this world are actually based on truth. After all, you live on top of this Hellmouth.” The ancient-looking witch sat down on the chair at Tara’s desk. “Now, I know you Americans sometimes lack manners. But you know who I am, so shouldn’t you introduce yourself? After all, I came all this way from Mother Russia to see you.”
Willow just stared for a few seconds. This was not how she’d expected her late-night activities to unfold...
“Do not worry; I do not plan to steal your soul or some such thing. Heh, if I wanted it, there are much easier, better ways to do so than by telling me your name.” Suddenly the old crone was replaced with a breathtakingly beautiful young woman, sitting with her legs crossed.
“Okay, this is weird,” Willow said, blinking at the sight of Baba Yaga’s true face.
“Well, perhaps. Nyet, there is no ‘perhaps’! But tell me, young lady who still has not introduced herself - why the desire to modify the Timetripper’s memories?”
“Timetripper, you mean...Xander?” Willow’s eyes suddenly widened in excitement.
“Da, little one, the very same. Such a wonderful young man, Alexei Antoniovich - I enjoyed meeting him a while back. One day we will meet again, for he and I are destined to cross paths once more. Although I hope his comrades will not be there when the time comes. They were bothersome at times, most overprotective,” Baba Yaga sighed, flipping her hair to one side.
Willow narrowed her eyes, focusing only on what was important to her. “Xander, you’ve seen Xander recently?”
“By all the discredited Tsars, little one, you heard me say that.” Baba Yaga looked at Willow carefully. “I doubt you are the Slayer. If one of the Chosen was a magic user, I would have definitely heard of it. One of her friends, maybe?”
Willow shook her head in disbelief. “Okay, let’s play along and see what happens. I’m Willow.”
“Willow, heh? Willow Rosenberg, da, da, I have heard of you. I am Baba Yaga, I am pleased to meet you,” the ten thousand-year-old witch smiled mysteriously.
“Well, uh, same here, I-I-I guess. So do you-” Willow started to say.
“That spell you were attempting to cast just now. Dark magic, da? But I do not think you work for the ultimate Evil, as you would have known better than to try and blast through that protection spell that the Furies put in place,” Baba Yaga interrupted the younger witch.
“The Furies?” Willow asked tentatively, looking concerned that Baba Yaga knew what she’d been up to tonight.
“You do not know of the Furies? Nyet, that cannot be! How do you not know of them? Just who is mentoring you, where did you learn your magic?” Baba Yaga briefly looked surprised.
“Well, a lot of it I learned by myself, back in high school - uh, a friend taught me the rest...” Willow stammered out.
“Your friend, is he or she accomplished with the use of magic?” Baba Yaga asked.
“Well, I-I-I think he’s very knowledgeable about magic. He’s, he’s very well versed in all the materials...” Willow said, deciding to leave Tara’s name out of this for now - just in case.
“A ‘he’ you say, interesting - ah, let me guess; a Watcher. Where there is a Slayer, a Watcher is sure to be close by. So the Council knows of you, da? Odd, very odd. I would have thought that you would have been sent to one of the Covens in England by now, Willow Rosenberg. To unlock all your potential.”
“Covens? Giles has never mentioned...” Willow trailed off, suddenly deciding to reassert her control of the situation. “Xander, you said you’d seen Xander recently. How is he?” she said with firmness.
“Ah, so there is strength when you want to summon it forth. Again, interesting,” Baba Yaga said with a wide smirk.
“Answer the question,” Willow said firmly.
Baba Yaga leaned forward and narrowed her eyes. “Perhaps I need to remind you that I have been in this world a lot longer than you, Willow Rosenberg. I was an old woman when Abraham, the father of your people, was only a mewling infant. I was old even when human beings were still living in caves! Little one, I have granted you some leeway with me. Do not abuse it!”
“Xander,” was the short response from Willow, her Resolve Face clearly visible. “Tell me how he is.”
“By the blessed bones of Catherine the Great...” Baba Yaga abruptly smiled. “I cannot recall the last time someone has challenged me like this. You know that I could squash you like a grape, da? You have the potential, but little else; it will be a *long* time before I need to fear you.”
“Tell me how Xander’s doing.” Willow hated to admit it, but she was helpless to do anything with regard to how Baba Yaga was, well, *playing* with her. With her current power level, she might be able to last five seconds against the other witch if Baba Yaga unleashed her magical arsenal - and according to rumor, Willow knew, the legendary witch had a *lot* of power up her sleeves.
“Da, it has been a long time. Too long, perhaps, since I faced a true challenge. Well, there was that Nazi magician back during the war. I must admit, I like you much more than I liked him...” Baba Yaga mused as she leaned back against the chair. “But to answer your question, the Timetripper is well. He was quite spirited, in fact, before we parted company a few weeks ago. Da, da, he has become quite famous in the circles I travel. He is also well protected, as you would have found out if that spell of yours had been completed.”
< What’s that supposed to mean? > Willow asked herself, before abruptly dismissing the question. She knew that the odds were she wouldn’t like the answer. “Is Xander in danger?”
“Of course he is, little one. We all are. Did you not know even that much? The First is on the move. Your friend is a major obstacle to its plans. It wants very much to remove that obstacle,” Baba Yaga sighed.
“The First? You mean the First Evil?” Willow asked, recalling what Angel had said a few months back; and what Xander had written in his letters to Giles.
“Of course, Willow Rosenberg. You have much to learn. If only it could be otherwise, but I can project myself here for such a short period of time...” Baba Yaga thought for a second. “Nyet, that will not work. There is only one option; da, it is decided.”
“What’s decided?” the redhead wanted to know.
“I will teach you.”
“WHAT?” Willow suddenly looked officially freaked.
“I will admit, it has been a while since I last had an apprentice. Nyet, nyet, I have never actually had one. I have had familiars and pets, but no apprentices. I like the idea, it is - something new. Of course, I will have to make room for you in my cabin...maybe somewhere in the south wing...” the ancient witch trailed off, looking utterly lost in thought.
“Cabin, what are you talking about? You have a place in the woods outside of town? I can’t move out there. Wait, according to the legend - don’t you have a house built on chicken legs?!” Willow asked, her eyes wide.
“Da. It is actually quite comfortable; I have lived there for millennia,” Baba Yaga smiled fondly at the memories.
“So, uh, how long will the commute be? I mean, I-I have college classes and, and hanging with my friends,” Willow said surprising herself that she would even seriously consider the idea.
“Commute, what a novel idea. Nyet, silly child, you cannot walk to my cabin and come back here daily. You would come with me to live in Russia, of course, for as long as you need to.”
Willow folded her arms. This was now *too* weird. “What? Russia? You gotta be kidding me! No way, I am not leaving my friends - not to mention Tara! Now tell me, where’s Xander?”
“You will not accept? Willow Rosenberg, this is an offer the likes of which any witch would sell their own grandmother for me to grant to them! How can you turn me down?” Baba Yaga asked with a playful look.
“Because I screwed up like that once before, and I’m not doing it again. Now for the last time, where the heck is Xander?!” Willow shouted, surprising herself as well as Baba Yaga.
“Very fascinating. You are strong willed in addition to having such potential, little one. In a century or so, you will truly give me cause to worry...” Baba Yaga stood up suddenly. “Da, I shall do it.” She looked at Willow and suddenly she smiled as a thought came to her. “You and the Timetripper, ah, the potential and power your offspring would have. Such things I would be able to teach them, to shepherd and mould them...” She clapped her hands together.
“I will have to move some things around. My cabin will not just move itself, well - nyet, actually, it will.” She laughed. “Ha, I can just imagine the look on the border guard’s face...I shall come here to teach you, Willow Rosenberg. This Hellmouth stinks, but I have tolerated worse. Much to do, but do not worry. I will be back.” And with that, Baba Yaga just vanished.
“Oh dear...”
Willow looked around. The presence she had felt while Baba Yaga was in the dorm room was now gone. < Oh, jeepers. Now, now, how am I gonna explain all this to the rest of the gang? >
But then, something Baba Yaga had said suddenly registered with her mind. “And hey, gay now!”
Somewhat tellingly, Willow quickly decided not to say anything concerning what had happened just now, to any of her friends and family.
*******
1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale, California. November 30, 2001
Dawn Summers grimaced to herself, as she stared at the Doublemeat Palace uniform she had acquired today after school.
The young woman knew that things were starting to get financially tough in the Summers household. Ever since 9/11, business at Joyce’s gallery had really started to go downhill; and the Magic Box wasn’t doing so hot either, much to Anya’s dismay. Dawn had lost track of all the meetings her mom and Giles had had over the past two weeks, on how to get their finances under control - including one suggestion to get investors for the art gallery, which hadn’t turned out so well.
Because the ‘investors’ were all vampires, who had stupidly wanted to send the Slayer a ‘message’ of some sort - before Buffy had slaughtered them all, once she’d figured out what they were.
In any case, it had eventually occurred to the Key that her working part-time at the magic store wasn’t really helping. Dawn had figured out that the money Giles paid her could just as easily be used to help pay the family’s utilities bill, or whatever. Despite the female teen’s working hard to earn her salary, it wasn’t *extra* cash in any sense of the word.
And it wasn’t like Buffy could help by holding down a regular job, either; she was still studying at UC Sunnydale, and as has been said, the Slayer’s nights were full slaying the vampires and evil demons that infested this town. So Dawn had figured out that it was up to her to try and relieve the family’s financial stress a little.
Unfortunately, though, there just weren’t all that many places in Sunnydale interested in hiring a 15-year-old girl who was still a high school student, and who could only work part-time.
“Oh, geez.” Dawn said in disgust, as she picked up her new Doublemeat Palace uniform, and tossed it into her closet.
Dawn was *so* not looking forward to the first time someone from school would come to eat at the fast-food establishment, and see her wearing that stupid-ass hat which was part of her ridiculous-looking uniform.
*******
A place where nothing is as what it seems. December 16, 2001
Kennedy Greene, vampire Slayer and Chosen One, looked up into the night sky. < Hang on a second, this isn’t Cleveland... > the brunette thought to herself in sudden confusion.
She saw how storm clouds were gathering around a tall building. Her brow furrowed for a second, before the Slayer recognized it as the Empire State Building. < How the hell did I end up in New York? >
She looked around the street as people ran around. A loud roar suddenly pierced the night air, and the people on the street started running - fast.
Kennedy looked up again and saw a huge, four-winged, dragon-like creature burst out of the Empire State Building roughly halfway up, with huge blocks of masonry falling to the street below. Nearby a homeless man started screaming, “The Ascension, the Ascension is upon us!!”
The panicked crowd started fleeing as the dragon-like demon swooped down upon them, grabbing a few unfortunates and swallowing them whole. Kennedy suddenly found both her arms holding a sword. Lifting her weapons, she started running forward to attack the creature.
But before the Slayer could engage in combat against the flying demon, the homeless man that had initially raised the alarm grabbed her right arm. “The Ascension, you and him must stop it, the Ascension must not happen!!”
“What are you-?” Kennedy asked in confusion, before she was blinded by a bright white light.
The brunette Slayer shielded her eyes as she turned to look at the source of the unexpected illumination. Standing in front of her was a knight, his armor glowing with an intense white light. Regrettably, the man’s face was hidden behind his silver visor. “Whoooooooo...”
Kennedy abruptly sat up in her bed. She looked around at her bedroom, and ran her arm across her sweaty forehead as she tossed the covers aside. “Goddamn Slayer dreams! Can’t I get a normal night’s sleep anymore? To think, I actually used to be *jealous* of that Buffy girl for how often she used to get 'em...”
*******
Great Russell Street, London, England. December 17, 2001
“A white knight, you say?” Roger Wyndham-Pryce asked in astonishment.
“Yes sir, Mr. Zabuto was quite clear on that part of it. The Slayer dream ended with the appearance of a medieval night in white armor,” the aide answered as he stood next to the desk. Sunlight filtered through the windows of the office of the head of the Watchers Council. “I must admit, I’m not sure what the significance of that is.”
“Well, Slayer dreams are always hard to interpret,” Roger sighed. “Still, this mention of an ‘ascension’ isn’t something that could be mistaken for anything other than what it is. Good Lord, two of them in as many years? I do hope this isn’t becoming a pattern of some sort.”
The aide nodded. “Yes sir.”
“Well. I suppose we should let the Americans know what’s about to happen in New York - it *was* New York, wasn’t it?”
“Yes sir, according to the Slayer the Empire State Building was unmistakeable.”
“Very well. Contact Smithers and relay the information.”
The aide nodded. “And the Slayer?”
“What about her?” Roger asked.
“Well, sir, the dream did say that she and this ‘white knight’ character had to stop the Ascension. Both of them, not just one or the other. So, should I make arrangements with Mr. Zabuto to send his charge to New York?”
Wyndham-Pryce leaned back in his chair. “You’re quite right, of course. Yes, see to that, and coordinate with the Americans while you’re at it. I imagine they’d get rather paranoid over a pure demon causing utter havoc in one of their cities. Contact Zabuto and let him know the situation, and for Smithers to expect company.”
*******
Siberian Trip Wire headquarters, Georgetown, Washington D.C. December 18, 2001
“So the Empire State Building is going to give birth to a dragon?” Joshua Cleburne asked in astonishment.
Alan Smithers rolled his eyes. “That’s hardly accurate, General Cleburne. Granted, Slayer dreams are hard to interpret. But right now, all we know for sure is that the Empire State Building will play a role in the latest attempt at Ascension, by some human mage trying to become a pure demon.”
“Which is worrisome, as the Empire State Building has a history in these matters,” Dr. Irving Hollins, also known as the Wizard, said as he typed on the computer in front of him. The computer whirred as a compartment opened, and Hollins took out a CD. He placed it on the desk and said, “This disc contains the files from the various investigations after the building was first opened. It also covers all the, ah, ‘events’ that have transpired there over the decades.”
Xander took the disc. “Bad news?”
The Wizard nodded. “Oh yes, shortly after it opened there were a series of murders that were confirmed as the work of a demon. Over the years, the building has seen more than its fair share of ghosts, werewolves, demons and warlocks. There has been some speculation of the supernatural having some sort of mystical influence over the place, actually.”
“Like a building built over a Hellmouth?” Xander asked with an upraised eyebrow.
“Not as bad as that, but I suspect that its history played a part as the spot chosen by our mystery mage to attempt to reach Ascension,” Hollins replied. The computer in front of him beeped. He opened the email that had just arrived. After a few seconds, the teenage boy frowned.
“Everything alright?” Xander asked as he put the disc back on the desk.
“Just an email from my colleague, Dr. Cooper; he can be quite vexatious at times, still - enough about that,” Hollins said. He headed over a second CD to Xander. “Here are some possible leads for you in New York City. Sources of magical supplies, magic practitioners of note, demon information sources and the like. It should help you in your investigation.”
“And why would he need this, since he’s not going to New York?” Cleburne asked in a loud voice.
Esther Marcum looked up from the file she was reading on the couch. “Well, Joshua, the Slayer dream did specifically mention him, if I recall correctly.”
“Actually, it didn’t. Just some dude in a white suit of armor.”
“Really, Joshua, you should know better. The vision symbolically referred to a white knight, which is Xander here,” Hollins said, gesturing off-handedly.
“What?” Cleburne said while Xander grimaced in distaste, recalling just *who* had given him that particular nickname - and *why*.
“Xander, you are aware that Joshua met with the vampire known as Angel several months back, yes?” Hollins asked as Xander nodded his head. He knew that Cleburne had been in Los Angeles and met with his former roommate. “Well, they discussed quite a few things. Afterwards, a synopsis of the conversation was prepared. I reviewed that synopsis. During the meeting, Angel mentioned an incident at the Sunnydale General Hospital where his, err, alter ego Angelus referred to you as ‘Buffy’s White Knight’.”
“So just how did you get Angel to become such a wealth of information?” Xander remembered how, in the past, his undead acquaintance normally was not all that forthcoming a person.
“Would you believe that Irishmen can’t hold their liquor as well as they think can?” Cleburne commented, whilst looking annoyed over how he’d forgotten all about the ‘white knight’ thing Angel had mentioned.
“You got him drunk?!” Xander looked amazed.
“Let’s just say I eventually came to the conclusion that moonshine was a brand new experience for him,” was the Marine’s wry response.
Marcum chuckled. “I remember that time you brought your hooch liquor to a barbecue at my house, Joshua. Ty keeps asking if you’re ever going to bring some more. You’re not!” she said sternly, as Cleburne opened his mouth to reply.
“Be all that as it may...” Hollins continued, getting back on topic. “The Slayer dream featured a man in a white glowing suit of armor, a so-called ‘white knight’. I know of no one else referred to as a white knight within the circles that a vampire Slayer would travel in. It is a reasonable supposition that you are in fact the entity referred to in the Cleveland Slayer’s dream as being one of the two people who will stop the Ascension in New York.”
“Hey, did I mention that Bathory woman? Remember her? Vampire queen, making nasty noises about the kid? The kind of woman who her own king was so freaked out by, before she became a vampire, that he had her walled up in a castle? The kid is her prey right now,” Cleburne said warningly.
“Come on, Cleburne. This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been hunted by a dangerous woman,” Xander commented sarcastically.
“Not on my watch,” Cleburne said obstinately.
“So what’s the answer, lock me up in an ivory tower 'til all the evil nasties in this world are gone? Never gonna happen,” Xander retorted.
“He’s right,” Esther said, earning herself a glare from the USMC general. “There is a level of risk in what he does, in what we all do. I remember you talking one time about what it means being a Marine, Joshua. What’s that saying you like to quote, ‘Give me a fast ship because I intend to go in harm’s way,’ or something like that?”
Esther wanted Cleburne to agree to Xander going on the mission, after all he did run field operations for the Siberians and trying to overrule him could lead to problems in the chain of command. < We need a united front now more than ever, after all. >
Smithers spoke up, “The dream specifically referred to a white knight, as you say. I myself have great familiarity with the various Slayer dreams listed in the Council’s archives. Based on all the information at hand, I must agree completely that the dream specifically refers to Lt. Harris. Thus, if the Slayer’s prophetic dream indicates that he will play a role in stopping the Ascension, then our young friend here must be present in New York for that to happen.”
“I don’t like it.” Cleburne sounded like a stubborn old mule that refused to move, despite all the cajoling attempts being made.
Xander suddenly smiled. “Hey, I’ve already helped stop one attack on New York this year. So I don’t wanna sit around in my apartment in Virginia while a second one happens!”
Cleburne looked at the people in the office, it was clear he was facing a united front. “I still don’t like this.”
“Oh, yes, we gathered that,” Esther commented idly.
“Well, maybe there’s something you all forgot. This vampire Slayer who had the prophet-y dream last night? According to what the kid told us way back when, she was in Sunnydale before it turned into a big sinkhole in that other timeline. This Kennedy person is someone the kid knows, or rather knew - and we all know what *that* means, right?” Cleburne suddenly stared directly at Harris, who looked away in annoyance.
Hollins frowned. “Hmmm, there is that. Xander - that is grounds for concern, you must admit.”
Xander shrugged. “It’s not like it was before I went to England, and drank out of the Holy Grail. Nothing as bad as what it used to be, anyway. These days, Riley and Graham? There are some headaches, but I can tough it out.”
“That’s different. You only stay in contact with them for very limited periods of time,” Esther said. “How long was this Kennedy person in Sunnydale with you?”
“Uh - six months, more or less. The first half of 2003, when the First was making its big move,” Xander said reluctantly. He did not enjoy the slight headache associated with recalling those memories.
“How close to her were you?” Smithers asked.
“She was, uh, dating Willow, so there was - a fair amount of interaction.” Xander only flinched a little bit when he mentioned Willow’s name, something that Cleburne noticed.
Cleburne looked at the Wizard. “Level with us. How bad will it be?”
“I don’t know. The reaction might not be as severe compared to meeting with the other Slayer, or the other people he knew,” Irving shrugged.
“Or it could be worse, right?” Cleburne demanded.
“Unlikely, at worst it will be approximately the same. Most likely, the severity of the headaches will be connected to proximity - the level of contact with this Kennedy individual. Just as it has been with everyone else Xander has encountered that he knew in the previous timeline,” Hollins stated.
“How sure of that are you?” Cleburne was now sounding irritated.
“As sure as I can be.”
“Hey, I’ll cope somehow. Take a lot of painkillers, whatever,” Xander offered. “This is a freaking Ascension we’re dealing with here, remember? My personal discomfort, not so much of a priority!”
“Are you sure? Because putting aside the gung-ho act - Cleburne has definitely been rubbing off on you over the past two years, hasn’t he? - you *are* going to be risking death by neurological meltdown upon meeting with this person. No one will force you to do this, and we’ll understand if you choose not to,” Esther said gently.
“Thanks for the thought, Mrs. Marcum, but like Smithers here said - the dream mentioned me. And I don’t think the Powers That Be would have sent that message, if the result was that my head would instantly explode when I see Kennedy!”
Cleburne and Esther exchanged a glance. Joshua sighed and said, “Oh, what the hell - I never get my own way with you people anymore as it is, so why should this time be any different? Anyway, Fletcher goes with him, as does Gunny. I’d go myself, but I probably can’t coordinate the ops in the Middle East and the Philippines from the road. Those two can keep a lid on things until I get there, if something goes screwy.”
“There. Was that so hard, General?” Hollins asked kindly.
“I have only one thing to say to you, Mr. Wizard. Remember that question for *when*, not if, things get weird!” Cleburne replied grumpily.
*******
Raiden residence, Los Angeles, California. The same time
Gwen went to her bathroom, grimaced at the sight staring back at her in the mirror, popped open the bottle of Seltrex, and dry-swallowed her highly powerful migraine medication.
The visions had been getting worse and worse over the past month or so, the hangovers lasting longer and longer. Which, from a certain point of view, was hardly surprising; after all, Jasmine’s plan pretty much demanded that her future mother be broken down enough in order to eventually be willing to be transformed by Skip, both in terms of her body and mind. Now that Connor had finally been born, there was no time left to lose in the rogue Power’s opinion.
For the first time since becoming a messenger for the PTBs - ‘inheriting’ the visions from Cordelia at the Southern California Museum of Natural History, over a year ago - Gwen was starting to become afraid. Afraid that the darn things would eventually kill her.
< What was it Xander said that day? Oh yeah - ‘be careful. Taking over Cordy’s destiny like this, whatever happened that caused her to die by 2004 - it could happen to *you* now.’ Jesus, but I wish I’d taken his warning more seriously, > the Electra Girl thought to herself grouchily. < Sometimes, I wish I’d never gone to that friggin’ museum at all... >
But deep down, Gwen didn’t really mean that. After all, if she’d never become Angel’s new Vision Girl - then she’d never have become the person she now was. Never would have lost the hard mercenary edge she’d possessed. Never would have met the man of her dreams...
The one and only Charles Gunn.
*******
New York City, New York. December 20, 2011
Kennedy looked up at the Empire State Building, the sidewalk around her filled with pedestrians hurrying on their way to wherever it was they were going. Sam Zabuto was standing next to her, likewise looking up at what had once been the tallest building in the world.
“A most impressive construct,” the Jamaican man observed.
“Meh,” Kennedy replied, looking fairly jaded about the whole thing. “Dad first brought me here when I was six. After you’ve seen it a few dozen times, it kinda loses its ‘wow’ factor, ya know?”
“Americans. Sometimes, you truly fail to see the wonders you create,” Zabuto responded. He then noticed a balding man in a suit walking up to them.
“You Sam Zabuto?” the stranger asked.
“Yes I am, and this is my charge, Kennedy,” the Watcher nodded at his ward. “I assume that you are Agent Fletcher?”
“That I am. C’mon, the others are already inside. We’ve rented office space with the cover of a new PR firm, and the others are all waiting to meet you two in there.”
*******
Within the Empire State Building. A few moments later
A receptionist looked up and smiled as Kennedy and Sam entered the PR firm’s office suite, Malcolm Fletcher right behind them.
“Good morning, welcome to Sterling & Carter. How may I help you?” Then the Siberian Trip Wire operative saw her colleague, and instantly dropped the act. “Agent Fletcher, the others are waiting for you in the main conference room.”
“Thank you, Amy.” The FBI-slash-STW agent and the other two walked through the lobby down a hallway into the room in question.
Gunny and Smithers looked up immediately from where they were sitting around the table. “This the new Slayer?” Gunny asked, and Alan immediately nodded.
“Ms. Greene. Mr. Zabuto, I’m-” the Englishman started to say.
“Alan Smithers, yes, indeed,” Zabuto finished for him. “We met once several years ago, Mr. Smithers, before your difficulties with Quentin Travers.”
“Yes, well, I suppose my reputation was more or less established with those...difficulties. I also remember you - and I heard about your previous Slayer named Kendra, by the way. I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”
Zabuto bowed his head for a second. “Thank you. That was - a very difficult time.” He turned to Kennedy. “Mr. Smithers, here, is a Watcher of some repute; someone the Council has seconded as liaison to our current hosts. Alan Smithers, Kennedy Greene.” He turned to Gunny. “And you are?”
“Sergeant Charles Rose, sir, USMC. Think me of the babysitter for this little adventure,” Gunny said with a small smirk.
“Babysitter? I don’t need a babysitter,” Kennedy snorted.
“He’s not here for you, Ms. Greene,” Alan said to the soon-to-be 19-year-old girl.
“Then who?” Kennedy demanded.
“He’s here for me.”
Sam and Kennedy turned to the source of the voice at the doorway at the other side of the room. There stood Xander Harris, flanked by Fred and Oz.
“So who are you?” Kennedy said, frowning as she saw Xander start rubbing the bridge of his nose in pain.
A wide-eyed Sam Zabuto supplied the answer. “Alexander Harris. Otherwise known as the Timetripper...”
*******
The STW office conference room. A few minutes later
“So you’re this Timetripper guy that everyone talks about in hushed tones, huh? Gotta say, I’m not seeing what all the fuss is about yet.”
Xander briefly glanced over his shoulder at Kennedy. He was standing alone, looking out a window at the Manhattan skyline, and doing his best to deal with the migraine that was threatening to split open his skull. < I wonder if she knows about that? Probably not... >
“It’s safer that way. And I would have worn the T-shirt, but the suits did *not* like that idea. They mentioned something about copyright violations,” Xander said in a low, gravelly voice.
Kennedy smirked, appreciating the attempted humor. “So, what do I call you? Timetripper, TT, Secret Agent Man?”
“Xander, Kennedy. My friends call me Xander,” Xander said in that low, pained voice.
“You saying we’re friends? We’ve only just met, fella,” Kennedy said flippantly, even though the playful look had left her face.
“We’ve met before, at least the way I remember it. Fought side by side, even.”
Kennedy looked at Xander in silence for a few seconds. “Yeah, Sam told me about that. I’m still not sure I fully believe it, though-”
“Believe it,” Xander cut her off tonelessly, rubbing his forehead. “I know you. You want proof? Fine, do the words ‘Gone With The Wind’ and figuring out your sexuality mean anything to you?”
< Yeah, they sure do... > Kennedy thought to herself in amazement before saying, “So - you really do know me? Another version of me? In that other timeline, I mean; in the future, your past?” There was now a familiar, at least to Xander, sound of awe in the junior Slayer’s voice.
“Yeah. You were there in Sunnydale, during 2003. You - fought well.” Xander looked back out at the skyline, trying to minimise the pain. “You weren’t a Slayer 'til right at the end, but you still fought well.”
< Holy cow. > “According to rumor, a lot of people died then. Did I make it out?” Kennedy asked wonderingly.
“You did. A lot of people didn’t, but you did.” Xander remembered Anya, who hadn’t survived that terrible day. Of course, she was alive now and an item with Andrew Wells, the guy for whom she had sacrificed herself in order to save his life from some attacking Bringers.
The very same nerd who, according to Xander’s information, had come up with the idea on how to save Darla’s life in this brave new world, when she had been about to give birth to Connor a few weeks back.
By getting Cordelia Chase to give birth to the miracle child instead.
Xander still wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
“So you look up people you knew from before, give them the low-down on who’s going to win American Idol or whatever?” Kennedy asked.
Xander shook his head, wincing. “Doesn’t work that way. Being with someone I knew from...before...causes problems. Really bad headaches. The kind where your head feels like it’s going to blow up.”
Kennedy thought for a second. “Why aren’t you in pain now? You seem alright to me.”
“I’m a good actor, plus I took a whole boat-load of painkillers before coming here. There’s some people I literally can’t be around, without my brain turning into mush. Others like you, I can sorta tolerate their presence. Even though it still hurts like a mad bastard,” Xander said bitingly.
“Oh. Sorry. And I’m not a star player, huh? Bummer.” Kennedy thought about it for a second. “So why are you here, anyway? Seems to me like this is something that some of the other secret agent men could handle, right?”
“Your Slayer dream said I had to be here.”
“Say what?” Kennedy demanded in confusion.
“That white knight you said you saw show up outta nowhere. I’ve been called that on occasion. The big brains figured that it was the PTBs’ invitation to the party for me,” Xander replied, his voice lowering even more.
“Wow. So, how many nicknames do you go by? Timetripper. White knight. Anything else they call you?” Kennedy demanded.
“The Zeppo. The Donut Boy. Lots of other kind of ‘boys’. But those are literally from another life - and the result of a pissed-off ex-girlfriend,” Xander said in a monotone.
Kennedy was silent for a moment. “So tell me something. You’ve been through an Ascension before, right?”
“Yeah. Two - well, the same one, twice.”
“So, how do we stop one?”
“Best way is, don’t let it start,” Xander replied, his voice thickening. “Hopefully, this guy hasn’t become invulnerable to harm yet...”
*******
The Magic Box, Sunnydale, California. A while later
Jonathan Levinson listened to the rest of the gang arguing all around him, but only with half an ear. His attention was mostly focused on the rat that was Amy Madison, which was running around in its cage; the young woman was someone who should have been turned back into a human being by now, but hadn’t.
Amy was still trapped in rodent form because, here and now, Willow hadn’t followed her previous path of diving headlong into reckless and addictive use of magic.
Not everything about this brave new world was positive in nature, after all.
*******
STW conference room, Empire State Building, New York City. December 21, 2011
Tonight was the night of the winter solstice, the longest night of the year, but oddly - nobody seemed to care. There were other priorities, after all. Everyone was sitting within the conference room, poring through documents and trying to come up with ideas on the most appropriate course of action concerning the Ascension.
“We’re looking at this all wrong,” Oz commented suddenly.
“Okay, how’s that?” Gunny asked.
“This isn’t Sunnydale or Los Angeles. A demon’s something that would stand out here in the Big Apple,” Oz replied.
“Okay. And?” Gunny prompted the werewolf.
Xander spoke up, “A demon couldn’t fly into the building or whatever, without being noticed. However, someone human could just walk right in - and then turn into that huge-ass dragon thing Kennedy saw in her dream.”
“So we know where; we just need to figure out who,” Fred said excitedly. “We need to figure out which office it’s going to happen in, right?”
Kennedy saw all eyes turn to her. “Don’t look at me, that thing was huge! I couldn’t tell you where exactly it showed its ugly face - all I know is, it exploded out of the building roughly halfway up. It could have been out of any one of a thousand different offices...”
“We need to narrow it down,” Xander replied, again rubbing the bridge of his nose in order to try to relieve the pain. < Damn it, this dosage obviously isn’t enough... >
“No idea how long it’s been in preparation, either. Back in Sunnydale, the Mayor spent over a hundred years getting ready for his shot,” Oz said stoically.
“Well, that’s the thing about being in the FBI; you get good at finding needles in a haystack,” Fletcher announced.
“True, but maybe we should start looking in a different haystack...” Xander said cryptically.
*******
Somewhere on the streets of New York City. A while later
Xander pulled the coat tighter against his body, trying to stay warm. In his view, this city was almost as bad as Chicago with regards to how cold it got during winter. Oz, Fred and Kennedy followed close behind him, with Xander’s security detail spread out and unobtrusively keeping an eye out for any possible dangers.
“So what’s the plan again? And how does this count as a different haystack?” Kennedy asked, trying to bury her annoyance at playing ‘follow the leader’ like this. Slayers did tend to develop an “I’m in charge” mindset the longer they lived, after all, and Kennedy had been Chosen 2 1/2 years ago now.
“Fletcher, Zabuto, Smithers and the others are trying find this guy by examining his getting ready to be a demon. We need to look at this from the other side,” Xander answered, not looking directly at her.
“What other side?” Kennedy was sincerely curious now.
“After the transformation, the demon’s hungry. It needs to feed,” Xander replied tonelessly.
“Yeah, and according to what I’ve read, it needs to eat people. Now, generally, people don’t stand still just before they’re about to be eaten, they run. The demon, it - it wouldn’t really have that much strength to chase them all over the place,” Fred reasoned. “Not right after the transformation, what with the birth trauma and all.”
“Back in Sunnydale - the Mayor’s solution was to recruit vampires to corral everyone into an area where he could snack on them,” Oz said slowly.
“And I’m guessing this guy will probably be doing the same thing here,” Xander added.
“Oh, now I get it!” Ms. Burkle said excitedly. “We find out who’s been recruiting a lot of vampire or demon muscle lately, and that should lead us straight to the mage in question!”
“Right. So why are we here?” Kennedy asked. All this was very different from the way she and Zabuto operated in Cleveland; usually, her Watcher just gave her a target and she went out and Slayed it. Well, apart from patrol and that night back in August when those Vahrall demons had almost opened up the Hellmouth underneath that dance club - something she still didn’t know Xander, Oz and Fred had provided covert assistance with, in preventing Armageddon.
Normally she wouldn’t expect a direct answer, but Xander surprised her.
“Demon bar’s the best place to start looking for the things who’ll do a bad guy’s dirty work.” Xander held open the door leading into a dimly lit bar for the others.
Smoke filled the air as various vampires, demons and humans looked up at the new arrivals. After a few seconds, the buzz started up again and the patrons went back to their own business. Waiting until the security detail had slipped in by twos and threes, Xander and his entourage eventually made their way to the bar.
The bartender looked up as they approached. “Yeah?”
“Hey,” Xander said. “Four beers.”
The bartender - Xander could see the ragged ears and some bumps on his forehead that marked him as a demon - nodded towards an empty table in the back. “Welcome to sit over there, if you want. I don’t want no trouble. My goddamn insurance premium is high enough, already!”
“Why would we cause trouble?” Kennedy asked, her face slightly contorted from her Slayersense going crazy - thanks to so many of the undead being in such close proximity to her.
“Ya think I haven’t had a Slayer in here before? Back in '76, that black woman - Wood, or whatever her name was - she did her best to put me outta business,” the bartender said grouchily. “Plus I recognized you as well, Timetripper. Your face is staring to get famous, ya know? Bad things happen when *you* show up for a drink in a bar like mine. I just run a business, alright? And I don’t want it blown up, like what happened to that place in Chicago six months ago!”
Xander nodded. “Understood. Just don’t start telling everyone who I am, comprende? Or else this night is gonna be your last. You, and everyone else in this dump,” Harris warned the demon barman, before he led the others to the offered table.
“Think he’ll play ball?” Oz asked calmly, noting the stares from some fellow werewolves from the other end of the bar.
“If he’s smart, and I’m thinking he is, then - yeah,” Kennedy grumbled, looking back at the bartender. “Too bad; I was kinda wanting an excuse to tear this place apart.”
“Well, the night’s still young,” Fred shrugged.
The two guys and two girls waited as a demon waitress brought them the beers. They quickly drank them in silence.
“Now what?” Kennedy eventually asked.
“Well, I figure we’re in the right place. We, we just need to figure out whom to let tell us what we want to know,” Fred babbled.
“Or, they could just come straight to us,” Oz said, as he nodded towards two floppy-eared demons that were fast approaching their table.
They stopped in front of it in a respectful manner, staring exclusively at Xander. “Are you the Timetripper?” one of the supernatural creatures asked.
Xander scowled. “He’s just a myth.” < Plastic surgery, God damn it. Either that, or I gotta wear a disguise every time I go out in public from now on! >
“You seem to have a lot of protection for being a myth,” the second demon nodded its head towards the various members of the security detail surrounding the quartet’s table. “Or are they your fans?”
Kennedy looked at Xander. “You have fans? Why don’t I have fans?”
Xander shook his head, ignoring the pain as best he could. “I don’t recall ever getting a newsletter about a fan club. 'Course, my mailing address is something that I don’t check very often.”
“I was in Idaho,” the first demon said, staring at Harris like he knew him from back then.
Xander and Oz exchanged a look. Kennedy spoke up, “Idaho, as in that place we fly over?”
Xander turned to the demons. “Prove that you were in Idaho.”
“According to what that guy Toby Dupree told me happened, you actually stuck a gun into the sheriff’s crotch and said, ‘Sheriff Johnson, you got some 'splaining to do!’” the first Face-dancer said with a huge smile on its face.
Xander grimaced at the look Oz, Fred and Kennedy sent him. “Good enough. So, what can I do for you guys?”
“Well, actually, we were kinda wondering if there was anything we could do for you. Our people, uh, we like to pay our debts,” the second Face-dancer said sheepishly.
Xander quickly made a decision that was mostly based on instinct. “What can you tell me about someone hiring a lot of demon muscle lately? Maybe vamps, maybe something else.”
The two demons briefly stared at one another. “Well, there have been rumors about that sort of thing going around lately. Still, there are always rumors of some kind floating around places like this. If you don’t mind my asking, what’s something like that got to do with someone like you?”
Xander knew Cleburne would have a three-megaton fit if he was here right now, and heard him say what he was about to say; but he didn’t care. He made his own decisions, even if the brass might not like them. “There’s an Ascension coming. As in a pure demon walking the Earth - or flying through the air, or whatever. You understand what I’m saying?”
From the terrified looks that had appeared on the faces of the two non-violent demons, it seemed fairly obvious that they did.