This Is the Real World Now
Title: This Is the Real World Now
Author: kanedax
Fandom: Buffyverse
Spoilers: BtVS: Season 3; Previous Chapters
Characters: Buffy, Giles, Anya/nka, The Master, Oz, Larry
Rating: R for language, violence, underage drinking, and suggested sexual content
Summary: The Wish is broken, and new alliances are formed
Notes: I don’t own these characters. They belong to Joss Whedon, 20th Century Fox, Warner Brothers, and Dark Horse Comics.
Sires / Previous Chapters / Divergence
It all began with a kiss.
On December 15th, 1998, after witnessing her boyfriend kissing his childhood friend, a distraught Cordelia Chase found an easy scapegoat, and made a simple wish:
That Buffy Summers had never come to Sunnydale.
Unfortunately for her, she made it to the one person who wanted to hear it.
The Vengeance Demon Anyanka granted Cordelia’s wish, and created a world where Xander Harris and Willow Rosenberg were vampires serving their risen Master, Rupert Giles led a ragtag band of humans in an ever-losing battle against the hordes, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer battled the demons of Cleveland, Ohio.
Cordelia told Giles of her grave error, and paid for it with her life. He summoned the Slayer to Sunnydale, and Anyanka to his living room.
And the town of Sunnydale would never be the same…
“This is the real world now!” the demon Anyanka hissed, tightening her grip on Rupert Giles’s neck as he was pinned against the wall. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
Feeling his feet leave the floor, Giles stared down at the demon’s wrinkled visage, its inhuman eyes glaring up at him with ecstasy for her creation and deep loathing for the gender dying beneath her fingers. He wanted to speak. Wanted to defend himself with words, since she obviously had the physical upper hand over a middle-aged high school librarian. But no words would come.
Air was becoming a premium, as well.
His strength was giving out. His head started to droop. His vision, blurring, dropped from her eyes, past her sneering mouth with its gnarled teeth and horrific breath.
And, sliding past her wrinkled neck and bosom, fell upon a glimmer of green along her collar.
In order to defeat Anyanka, he remembered reading to Miss Summers what felt like epochs ago, one must destroy her powercenter. This should reverse all wishes she’s granted, rendering her mortal and powerless again.
Misdirection, his Watcher training instructed. Don’t let her know your intentions. Let her think she’s in control.
She’s doing a good bloody job at it.
Giles pulled his eyes away from the locket, rolling them up their sockets. He made a show of gasping for breath (which was pretty easy, as he was currently gasping for breath) and let his hands unlock their grip from the demon’s wrists, allowing one to fall weakly to his side.
He heard Anyanka chuckle in front of him, and he let his other arm drop…
Grabbing the locket as it fell.
Anyanka grunted as Giles yanked the locket from her neck, raising the closed fist to backhand her across face. Anyanka reeled, floundering across the living room and dropping to the floor as Giles raced to his desk. He wiped his hands across the table, quickly pushing aside the books and herbs used to summon the demon in the first place, and lay the locket down in the now empty space.
“You trusting fool,” Anyanka growled as Giles took up the black marble paperweight housed on the edge of the desk. “How do you know the other world is any better than this?”
Giles gasped for breath, staring down the centuries-old demon as she rose to her feet.
“Because it has to be.”
He swung his arm back, raising the paperweight over his head, and brought it down on the locket.
“NO!” Anyanka screamed in horror as the weight crashed down, a pale green glow emitting from beneath it as it crushed the ancient amulet.
Rupert Giles closed his eyes, and waited for the inevitable.
The Master, who was known as Heinrich Nest so many centuries ago that he himself had forgotten details of his former self, shook his head as the limp body of Buffy Summers fell to its knees, then planted itself face-first on the cement floor of the warehouse.
Pathetic, he thought as he stepped over her blond-haired head. This is the girl who defeated Lothos? She died so much faster than the others.
Poor guy. Must have gotten soft from his years on the surface.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” The Master bellowed, lifting his ancient hands to his shoulders. The warehouse fell silent, as humans and vampires alike ceased their battling and faced The Master. Many of his henchmen glanced down in amazement at the girl’s body.
“The future is now!” he continued. “The Slayer is dead, and with her the last obstacle in our path to domination!”
The vampires erupted into cheers. To his right, The Master heard a snap as one of his boys got a little too rowdy, accidentally snapping the neck of one of the cattle like a stick. He stared down the two remaining White Hats, their hands still covered with the dust of his precious Willow, and gave them a hungry grin.
You will be the next, he thought. The next to be fed to the machine.
“Let the next Slayer rise,” he growled. “And the next. And the next. Again and again and again until none remain. Let them all face me, and let them all face their death!”
He gazed around the room. His legion grew silent, gazing at him in terror and awe. Some where so chilled by his words that they seemed to be staring past him, completely lost in fear.
“Now,” he said politely, steepling his clawed fingers before him. “Where was I before I was so rudely interrupted?”
A voice rose from behind him,
“Monologuing, I think.”
Rupert Giles carefully opened one eye, instinctively flinching at whatever new world he had entered.
He was in his flat. It looked identical to his old flat. Same couch. Same bookshelves. Same pile of spell ingredients on the desk before him. Same paperweight in his hand, same shattered amulet.
Well, he thought. So far this new world is fairly easy to cope with.
A bestial howl erupted from his left as the demon Anyanka pounced. In his shock, Rupert took a step back, finding himself against the same wall where he had been pinned just seconds before.
“You fool,” Anyanka cried. “What have you done?”
“I… I turned things back to the way they were before?” Giles said uncertainly. Quite honestly, it felt like nothing had changed.
Except maybe for the demon that was now standing before him. Anyanka no longer looked so much like a demon as she did a young woman in her late teens or early twenties.
“You pathetic man,” she hissed, her voice no longer carrying that unnatural echoing tone. “You’ve destroyed my powercenter!”
She once again grabbed his neck.
“For that you shall pay!”
He closed his eyes, preparing to have his head torn straight from his neck this time. Only his feet never left the ground.
“You… you shall…”
Giles opened his eyes to see the former demon straining to even get a tight grip around him.
“You shall… pay… God, you’ve gotten heavy...”
She released him and took a step back. Giles was amazed to see that even that amount of effort had winded her. Anyanka looked up at him and, angered at the look of surprise on his face, curled her hand into a fist and swung a punch at his jaw.
“Ow!” Anyanka cried as Giles recoiled from the punch. He had felt it, sure, but barely. Far less than the demon was making it out to be, hopping up and down around his sitting room, shaking her hand in pain.
“Having issues?” Giles said with some modicum of triumph.
“Oh, sure, rub it in,” Anyanka said, clasping her hand to her chest as she inhaled a sharp hiss. “Ooh, boy, this really stings.”
“Of course I won’t rub it in,” said Giles, cleaning his glasses. “That would be tacky.”
“Men,” Anyanka grumbled. “A plague in this world from the beginning. Once
D’Hoffryn hears about this…”
“Once D’Hoffryn hears about this,” Giles continued, “I doubt he will be very pleased. Your wish has been reversed, and you’ve been outsmarted by a mere human. Your trinket has been destroyed. You’re powerless.”
“I’m… I’m human,” Anyanka breathed.
“It would appear so, yes,” said Giles. “And the wish?”
“The wish has been reversed,” she said quietly.
“Then why are we still here?” Giles asked. “If… if this is the world created by the wish…”
“I thought you were a Watcher,” said Anyanka darkly. “Don’t you know anything about multiple dimensions? The wish has been broken, but the world remains.”
“The wish is broken,” Giles repeated. “So you mean…”
“That’s correct,” said Anyanka. “Merrick brought her to Cleveland. You brought her here. I sent The Master to kill her. He will soon die himself.
“No matter how much I did to keep her away from Sunnydale, Buffy Summers is still here.”
“You…” The Master growled as the small blonde stood.
“Me,” Buffy Summers replied, absently brushing the dust formerly known as Alexander Harris and Angelus from her tank top.
“I killed you,” he continued. “I snapped your neck.”
“Thanks for that, by the way,” she said. “I had a kink.”
The Master replied with a snarl.
“What?” Buffy shrugged. “When’s the last time you actually killed a Slayer? Two hundred years?”
“None of your business,” The Master replied as the two circled each other.
“Sounds like you’ve been sitting on the throne for too long,” said Buffy. “Those little noodle arms can barely even pop your own bedsores, let alone break a Slayer’s neck.”
“I will not allow a little girl to speak to me like that…”
Once again, the crowd had fallen silent. A circle grew around the Slayer and the Master, humans and vampires both, eagerly anticipating the outcome.
“Little girl?” Buffy countered. “I’m not the one who looks like they snuck into Mommy’s makeup case, Ronald McDonald.”
“I should tear your head from your neck for your insolence.”
“Finally!” Buffy cried. “It’s about time you got with the program. So are we going to fight, or are you just going to talk me to death?”
“Actually,” said The Master, grinning widely as he raised his hand, long clawed fingers pointed towards Buffy’s face. “I think we’ll end this now.”
Buffy’s face went slack, her jaw falling open slightly. The Master’s eyes widened as his fingers curled into his palm, beckoning Buffy to come forward. Helplessly, she complied.
“There,” he purred as she came within inches of him, “That was easy, wasn’t it? Everyone falls in line eventually.”
Buffy nodded slowly, still enthralled. The Master raised his hands and gently cupped her cheeks on his palms.
“Just another few seconds,” The Master whispered. “And it will all be over.”
“Master…” Buffy breathed.
“Yes, my dear?”
“Lothos was better.”
The smile was wiped from The Master’s toothed face. Before he could react, Buffy’s arm flew upwards and, will all of her Slayer strength behind the thrust, plunged her stake through his hardened ribcage and into his heart.
The Master howled in pain, staggering backwards from his assailant. Vampire and human scurried away as the centuries-old demon peeled itself from its bones, flying into the air like a swarm of black flies before vanishing forever.
The remaining vampires backed away from the Slayer as she examined the skeleton, now lying useless on the cement. She looked up, looked around, and watched with wry amusement as The Master’s former minions scattered in terror, bolting towards the nearest exits.
Buffy pressed the heel of her left military boot to the fanged skull and crushed it into dust before looking up at the captives.
“See?” she said, pulling the stake from the ribcage and underhanding it to Larry. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“I think I need to get my eyes checked,” said Larry Blaisdell later, the two sitting on Giles’s couch tending to their wounds.
“What do you mean?” asked Oz.
“Did you see her flicker?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Rosenberg,” Larry replied. “Right before we grabbed her. It’s like she disappeared, then reappeared again.”
Oz shook his head. “I didn’t see anything, man.”
“Huh,” Larry said, watching Giles as he paced the living room. “Like I said, gotta get my eyes checked.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Rupert.”
“Don’t I?” Rupert Giles argued, his knuckles white as he tightened his grip on the phone. “There was a reason the Council assigned me to Sunnydale. There’s a reason that Angel came here. There’s a reason that a teenage girl was telling me things about Buffy and about myself that she shouldn’t have known the first thing about.”
Buffy Summers rolled her eyes and, leaning on Rupert’s bar, poured herself another glass of scotch. “Should I pour you boys one?” she asked Oz and Larry.
“I’m good,” said Oz, dabbing a cut on his forehead with a piece of gauze.
“Pure coincidence,” the gruff voice on the other end of the country responded.
“Bollocks to coincidence!” Giles yelled, pacing about the room. “I had a bloody vengeance demon in my sitting room this evening gloating over the fact that Cordelia Chase’s wish was the only thing keeping Buffy Summers from this town!”
“And where is this vengeance demon, by the way? I would like to think that the Council would appreciate her apprehension.”
“She’s no longer a threat,” Giles said tersely. “Her powercenter was destroyed. She’s simply a human now.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Listen to me, Merrick,” said Giles, his patience sounding near the breaking point. “Sunnydale needs the Slayer.”
“As does Cleveland…”
“Don’t give me that,” Giles retorted. “What’s the last serious threat that the city of Cleveland has had to deal with?”
“We have our share of vampires.”
“As does every city in the United States and the world…”
“We have a Hellmouth!”
“Your Hellmouth has a tenth of the power of Sunnydale’s,” said Giles. “Cleveland hasn’t had a serious threat since Lothos, and Buffy took care of him rather quickly.”
“He has his servants…”
“So does The Master,” said Giles. “In addition, my people have had to deal with Bezoars, androids, werewolves, and countless demons. We’ve had to deal with a bloody Kindestod, for God’s sake!”
“And you seem to be doing quite well on your own.”
“At our strongest we had over a dozen fighting on our side,” Giles said quietly. “Witches, warlocks, and vampires. We are now down to three humans. The Master is defeated, and yet all signs are indicating that our Hellmouth is just as strong as it has ever been. Lawrence, Daniel, and I can barely hope to contain the tide on our own. It would be in the best interest of Sunnydale and the world to have Buffy Summers here fighting with us, and not wasting her potential guarding your home town.”
Merrick paused on the other end of the phone. “Rupert,” he growled. “If you think for an instant that I’m going to relegate my authority to you…”
“Not at all,” Giles replied. “A Watcher should be with her Slayer until one is severed. We could use your experience here, as well.”
More silence. I can almost hear the hamster’s wheel spinning in that thick skull of his, Giles thought.
“I will speak to Quentin about this matter,” Merrick said finally. “The Council will need to weigh in with their opinion, of course. And will also have to make new arrangements for the Cruciamentum, as her birthday is only a month away.”
Giles barely contained his sigh of relief. “And Miss Summers?”
“Put her on the phone…”
Giles glanced over at Buffy and silently handed the phone to her. Buffy nodded, downed the rest of her drink, and grabbed the receiver.
“What’s the situation, Merrick?” she asked. She stood and listened, taking a moment to glance warily up at Giles.
“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, sure.” And hung up the phone without any more words.
“Alright,” Buffy sighed, leaning back against the desk. “Looks like I’m yours for the time being. What do you want me to do?”
“So what do we do now?”
“Now we keep our fucking mouths shut,” the small boy said to the large man as they, along with a third, skinny with hair and goatee died a blue-gray, wandered through the catacombs beneath Sunnydale.
“So,” said the skinny one after a few minutes of walking, “beyond us keeping our mouths shut, why are we here again?”
“To fulfill our Master’s wishes.”
“Well, The Master’s dead, isn’t he?” the skinny one continued. “The Slayer killed him. Shattered his skull.”
“The Master has been dead for centuries,” said the boy. “A simple piece of wood cannot stop him if he does not wish to be stopped.”
“So what do we do?” asked the large vampire.
“The Master is tied to the Hellmouth,” the boy explained. “When the Slayer destroyed him, a fragment of his essence returned to its origin: the cavern where he was held.”
“So what do we do with it?”
“I capture it,” said the boy. “As Anointed One, The Master himself chose me for this task. We cannot revive him, as the Slayer desecrated his remains. So instead I will harness his power within me. Revive him within me. Fulfill his wishes, his…”
“Hello, little boy.”
The Anointed One and his vampire cohorts stopped in their tracks as they entered the cavern that once housed The Master. To their surprise, they were not the first ones there. A raven-haired woman sat on a large rock, gazing at them serenely.
“But…” The Anointed One stammered. “But how…?”
“I’ve always loved children,” the woman said. “They’re so sweet.”
“How did you get in here?”
“Through the door, of course,” the woman said mistily, her voice carrying a thick Cockney accent.
“No one but The Master’s true servants could break through the barriers!” the boy cried. “It’s impossible!”
“Grandmother brought me here,” the woman said with a smirk. “She was so lovely…”
“Grandmother?”
“When the fiery ox sat on the scales,” the woman chanted, standing and raising her hands to the ceiling, “Grandmother took me from my Spike. They’re both gone now…”
“Yeah, that’s really sweet,” said the large vampire. “Can we kill her now?”
“Please,” said The Anointed One, motioning the two vampires forward. The large one greedily rubbed his hands together and advanced on the woman, the skinny vampire not far behind.
“I’d say this would hurt me more than it’ll hurt you,” said the large one, “but I doubt it.”
“I like pain,” said the woman, leaning back against the rock. “Are you a giver?”
“Oh, yeah, baby,” said the vampire, grabbing the woman’s unresisting throat. “I love to give the pain.”
“I don’t believe you,” said the woman. With blinding speed, she thrust her hand up, her long-nailed fingertips piercing the vamp beneath his chin. “You’re a taker… pity.”
The vampire’s face twisted in pain as he was lifted from the ground by one arm. The woman smiled up at him triumphantly as the Anointed One and the thin vampire backed away in horror.
“I always wanted to ask,” the woman said serenely, “a vampire dies when he is beheaded. But is it because his head’s gone? Or because his brain’s destroyed?”
“Shit,” the Anointed breathed as he watched the large vampire’s head sink lower into the woman’s hand. “She absorbed… it’s already too late…”
“The fun part’s pushing my fingers through the bone,” the woman giggled as the large vampire’s eyes bulged in his sockets. “He’s like a big Muppet…”
The large vampire uttered a silent scream before the weight gave way and his head was torn from his shoulders enough where he disappeared into a cloud of dust.
“Aww,” the woman said, suddenly with a pout that appeared on the verge of tears. “He didn’t let me play…”
“What do we do?” the thin vampire whispered to the Anointed. “What the hell do we?”
“You’re going to try to kill me, aren’t you?” the woman asked.
“Not if I can help it, lady,” said the thin vamp, reeling as her hypnotic eyes fell upon him.
“Kill her, Oliver,” the Anointed muttered.
“I don’t wanna end up like Benny…”
“Kill her now while there’s still time to finish the ceremony!”
The woman took a step forward, and the thin vampire stumbled over a small rock, but slammed against the cavern wall before he could tumble. But, instead of striking, the woman’s head cocked inquisitively.
“I smell Slayer on you,” she said quietly.
“Yeah,” the vampire, Oliver, stumbled. “Yeah, of… We just fought her last night. She… she threw me out of the way on her way to The Master.”
“Not then…”
“She’s here, lady,” Oliver continued. “She… She’s set up shop.”
“The smell is old,” said the woman, now inches from Oliver. She inhaled sharply through her nose, ingesting oxygen that she would never use. “It’s the smell of battle. The smell of desire, the smell of lust…”
Oliver’s mouth dropped open. He was amazed that he was able to tear his eyes away from this enthralling gaze long enough to take a nervous glance at the child vampire. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about, lady…”
“Don’t lie to Drusilla,” the woman said. “You’ve been with the Slayer. You’ve seen her all…”
“You what?” The Anointed yelled.
“No!” Oliver screamed in terror, his eyes feeling like they were going to fall out of his skull (Just like Benny’s…).
“You were the one!” The Anointed howled. “You were the one who brought her here! Not the human bitch, not the Watcher, you!”
“I didn’t bring her here!”
“You didn’t bring her here,” Drusilla agreed, a smile curling her lips.
“I…” Oliver gulped, closing his eyes. “Alright, alright, fine. I was with the Slayer. Once, when we were both in LA. Before I turned. But that was a long time ago!”
“She left you behind…”
“Yeah, yeah she did,” Oliver said, nodding vigorously. “She left me in the gymnasium. Left me to burn…”
“You hate her for that, don’t you?” Drusilla said, smiling triumphantly.
Oliver hesitated. “Yeah,” he said. “They… They turned me. And she didn’t help me, and… Obviously, I wouldn’t give it back for anything, Lothos made me… but the flames…”
“They burn,” said Drusilla, lovingly caressing the vampire’s cheek.
“Did they ever…”
“Oliver, what are you waiting for, kill her!” the Anointed cried.
“Do you want to kill her, Oliver?” Drusilla asked, ignoring the Anointed’s words.
Oliver nodded mutely.
“Then you have to do one teensy favor for me,” Drusilla whispered.
“Don’t listen to her!” The Anointed One ordered.
“You know who has the power, don’t you, dearie?” Drusilla smiled.
Oliver nodded again. Drusilla lowered her hand and stepped away from him.
“Don’t listen to her, Oliver,” The Anointed One pleaded as Oliver turned to him. “Her hypnosis is almost as powerful as The Master’s…”
“The Master’s gone,” Oliver said flatly, grabbing the small vampire by the throat. “And she’s not hypnotizing me.”
“Oliver…” The Anointed gasped, helplessly. He realized too late that, although The Master had chosen him, his powers were still limited. Too limited.
“I’m starting on the ground floor with a new power, and I do this of my own free will,” Oliver said with a smile as he tore the head of The Anointed One, The Master’s prodigy, from his shoulders. As he turned to dust around Oliver’s hands, the thin vampire turned to Drusilla, who giggled maniacally.
“That was lovely, Ollie,” she said, so like a little schoolgirl as she clapped her hands.
“Thank you, Mistress,” Oliver said, bowing theatrically as Drusilla stepped toward him.
“Ooh, Mistress,” Drusilla said, wrapping her fingers around the back of Oliver’s neck as she pressed her body against his. “I like that…”
“Is that what you want me to call you?” Oliver said quietly. “Not Queen? Not Madam?”
“My Spike called me Dru,” Drusilla sighed lustily. “But you can call me Mistress when I use my whip.”
“Spike, huh?” Oliver said with a chuckle.
“What’s wrong with my Spike?” Drusilla said, wounded.
“Nothing,” said Oliver. “Just… My name’s Pike.”
“You’re a Spike, too?”
“Pike,” Oliver corrected. “Oliver Pike. But close enough.”
“Pike,” said Drusilla, running her long fingernail along Oliver Pike’s t-shirt. “I think I’ll keep you. You’re a nice one…”
“I’m yours for the keeping, Mistress,” said Pike, daring himself to wrap his arms around her waist. She happily accepted, running her hands through his hair.
“We’re going to have a lot of fun, Pike,” Drusilla whispered moments before the two consummated their newfound partnership in screams and scratches on the floor of The Master’s former abode.
“You and I,” she whispered afterwards. “We’ll be the whirlwind again.”
Sires / Previous Chapters / Divergence