Nearly at the end and Santa hasn't sent me the certificate proving I own BUFFY for Christmas. Which isn't too surprising as it's May.
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The briefing went on and more and more notebooks were filled. At one point Chra’histra and the older Giles came over to where the two Dawns were talking.
“Let me see…” said the old lady and made a frame with her hands as if she were a cameraman framing a shot. She squinted at the two of them and then showed the same view to Giles.
“You see? The Key is definitely present in both of them…”
”Which means that Glory may not find her as the monks won’t know what their other selves did.”
”Or it may mean that she’ll come straight to Sunnydale. We can’t risk it. We need to find the person who has Glory hidden inside them and reinforce the spell.”
”Oh. Can you do that?”
The Guardian gave him A Look. “Just tell me who it is.”
”Oh, right…. It’s ummm… Ah…. Dawn, help me out here…”
She turned to her younger self. “He’s getting old: it’s quite pitiful. She was hidden inside…. Oh, wait…”
”Senility’s setting in early these days,” the ten year old said to the old lady.
“Apparently so.”
”Oh, this is ridiculous! I spent hours with…. With… Oh, boy! Giles, the spell is still in effect! It stops people remembering where Glory is hidden!”
”Oh dear! Yes, I remember now. It doesn’t affect vampires…”
”Probably for the same reason you can’t read their minds….”
”So Spike remembered when we didn’t but…”
The Guardian sighed. “So I’m going to have to find one person in the whole world when there’s a spell cast by some Hellgods to hide them? Needle-haystack. Haystack-needle.”
”Yes. Umm. Sorry. We’ll remember the moment we get back but…”
”Yes, but. This is most frustrating!”
”Well,” said the older Dawn, “There’s one person on our side who won’t be affected by the spell. Set Angel to try to figure it out. He made a living as a detective: he ought to have some talent for it.”
They talked. And talked and talked until their throats were raw and their heads swimming. They talked about Glory (and at the end of that story the two Giles’ went off and had a word quietly together), about Buffy’s return (“So how do you raise someone from the dead? What?” said Cordelia. “I mean, you might loose me!”) about the Troika and the Buffybot and the Great Sunnydale Musical (which caused Buffy to realise that she hadn’t mentioned the Gentlemen when discussing the Initiative, perhaps because she didn’t want to talk about Riley in front of Angel). They talked about the First Evil and the Seal beneath the High School. About Robin Wood and his mother’s legacy. About meeting the Shadowmen. (The Guardian gave a disgusted snort and muttered ‘Typical’ when she heard what they had proposed as a solution.) About the end. About the activation of the Potentials. About the amulet and Spike’s sacrifice. About the mad bus ride out of Sunnydale.
And when they had finished, they glanced at the clock and gave fifteen minutes about 9/11. As an afterthought.
The sky was beginning to turn grey in the East as they finished and stood and stretched. They began to pick up the bottles of wine and beer, the glasses and the boxes of pizza, shoving them in black bin bags for Giles to take home and put in his trash can. Giles himself carefully packed the notebooks he had filled and locked them away in the concealed safe in the weapons cage.
The Guardian took hold of the older Buffy’s arm and drew her away from where she was watching Angel and her younger self talk.
“Slayer, a word. You have reason to be very proud of what you have done.”
”Thank you,” Buffy said with slight suspicion.
“You have achieved everything the prophecies said might be possible and (at least as far as I can tell from second hand reports) avoided all the pitfalls.”
”And what’s the ‘but’ here? I can hear a ‘but’ coming at me.”
“You know I said that the Guardians split with the Watchers over the Slayer? We were priestesses originally. Of the Mother. We could not bear the thought of generations of girls, snatched from their mothers’ arms to fight in the darkness, to die young, to die horribly because of the whim of a group of wizards. We believed what they did, however necessary, was a sin against the Goddess.”
”And?”
”And you have just multiplied that sin. Perhaps hundreds, perhaps thousands of times. You have conscripted who knows how many girls, how many women, now and in the time to come. Given them no choice but to be part of your world, part of your war.” Buffy was silent and tight lipped. “You did what you felt you had to do, to save the world. So did the Shadow Men. You are perhaps both right. The only thing that saves the wizards, in my eyes, is that they took responsibility for the consequences of their actions. They founded the Council of Watchers and ensured that the girls, though they might fight and even die alone, did not live alone or unaided.”
”I know…what I’ve done. It was the only thing I could think of. The only road I could see that offered even a chance. But I know what I did. We will…. I will see that the Council is restarted. Reborn. Made new. Promise. I’ll clear up my mess. As much as it can be.”
”Let us hope that suffices. I especially hope so because I may have to use your idea, myself, if push comes to shove, towards the end. Good fortune, Slayer. And good hunting.”
She wandered away to speak to the younger Buffy and Angel went over to the older and took her hands.
”Thank you.”
”I’m forgiven, huh?”
”Yeah. All the way. All right, most of the way. I think I’ll dust Spike myself, just to be sure.”
”Take out Drusilla, first. She’s the smart one.”
”Hmm. So ‘shansu’, huh?”
”That’s right. ‘Shansu’.”
”Huh.”
“Kiss me.” He looked at her blankly for a moment. “While I’m not looking.”
And they kissed. And Cordelia came over. Stood watching for a moment.
“Right, that’s enough. Okay break!!! Danger of perfect happiness here!”
Angel broke away and let go of Buffy’s hands, turning to the cheerleader.
”No danger of that with you around, is there Cordy?”
”Darn skippy! I’m going to make it my mission in life to keep you from perfect happiness.”
”I can’t think of anyone better qualified.”
“Okay! Everybody ready?”
They all turned to see Whistler coming down the steps from the stacks, looking obnoxiously fresh and rested. His dress sense showed no sign of recovery from its terminal illness however.
“As we’ll ever be,” said the elder Giles as he took one last look around the room he’d worked in for so long and never thought to see again. And one last glance across at a woman he’d thought the same about. He had kept a lid on his emotions and things had stayed gentlemanly and civilised all night. Damn it to hell.
“Did you get me my extra W-I-S-H?” Buffy went up and poked the little demon in the chest, one poke for each letter.
“Ow! No! I mean, no, not yet! I passed on what you said. Sent a memo to the Highest Levels! I’m not Management! I just work here!”
Buffy snarled something and turned to say goodbye to her younger self.
And then the doors of the library banged open for one last time that long night.
“Mr Giles? I saw the lights on and… Buffy! There you are! And Dawn! Young lady what are you doing out of bed? The two of you might show some consideration for other people when you…”
Joyce Summers fell silent and stood still for a moment as she took in the scene. Her brain refused to process what it was seeing for a good long while. And then when it accepted what it was seeing it did a flip flop and took its owner’s stomach and heart with it.
And just as she finished reeling, Joyce felt herself hugged harder than she had ever been hugged in her life and a voice in her ear was telling her not to die, don’t die, Mom, live!
And another pair of arms and another voice, yelling something about mobile phones and headaches and another pair of arms holding her. Somehow she pulled back and there were two faces she knew, changed, strangely changed and she thought ‘Oh, that’s what they look like when they’re grown’ which made perfect sense in one part of her brain and not the other.
“Buffy? Dawnie? Is this… Am I…”
And then there was a light growing in the centre of the library. A really bright, dazzling light and there was a voice, a man’s voice.
“It’s sunrise. Time to go, ladies.”
”No!”
”No! Whistler you bastard, not now!!!.”
And then the light was everywhere and the arms that were holding her had gone and the light was gone and it was just the school library, lit by ordinary electric light and the red tint of dawn coming through the windows.
With the arms gone, Joyce swayed and nearly fell, but a pair of strong male arms caught her and held her up and helped her to a chair.
“Xander, there’s a small bottle of Scotch in my desk. Pour a splash for Mrs Summers, there’s a good lad.”
She took a coffee cup from the boy with shaking hands and gulped down a mouthful.
”Mr Giles. What did I just see? What just happened here…”
”Well, I’m not sure exactly what…”
”No, Giles. This is the time.”
”Buffy….”
”No, she was right. This is the time and I don’t think we can put it off any longer.”
”The time for what? Buffy, what are you doing here?”
The Slayer rubbed her eyes and looked down at her Mother with affection and a little irritation. Next thing you know she’ll be packing a flask and sandwiches and coming out on patrol with me…
“Look, Mom…. The short answer is that I was never even the slightest bit crazy. There are such things as vampires. Angel.”
”Do I have to?”
”Angel!” Joyce uttered a brief, ladylike ‘eeep’ as Angel went into game face, shrugged and came back to ‘normal’. “He’s a nice vampire, the only nice one in the world. It’s all a very long story….and I’d love to have a long mother-daughter chat but I’ve got… Good grief! I’ve got just three hours to get home, get whatever sleep I can before getting up, getting showered and changed before coming back here for the joys of another day at Sunnydale High.”
”You could call in sick,” offered Willow. “I’m going to.”
”I won’t give Snyder the satisfaction. Tell you what Mom, this is…is… “
“Chra’histra,” offered the old lady.
“Gesungteheit. She can explain it all to you, starting from the Fall. Of Atlantis. And you can explain microwave ovens to her. She’s been asleep for a hundred years and is sorta out of touch. OK? Good! Me for my bed.”
Light blazed again along the road beside the crater. Vi looked up from where she was idly tossing pebbles into the lake that was rapidly filling it and saw that, as expected, the wandering heroes had returned home. She stood and sauntered over to them as they stood, shaken and relieved under the stars of their proper time.
“Hi! You guys all OK? How did it go in the past?”
”Vi?” Faith blinked. “What are you doing here and how did you know….”
”Oh, Andrew set it up. He’s organised everything and sent me back here with the bus to pick you up.”
They all stood open mouthed at that and then Giles managed to say: “Andrew organised everything?”
”Oh, yeah. Well, Principal Wood started it rolling by giving his friend Crowley, his Mom’s Watcher, y’know, a call but as he had to into surgery… Principal Wood that is, not Crowley, Andrew kinda had to take over…. Anyway, Crowley came out from his place in LA and saw to getting us all set up in a motel and paying for the hospital bills for the injured but since he’s about ninety years older than God he let Andrew do most of the hard work. Oh and he showed Andrew a divination spell to find out where you’d gone and Andrew did the actual hocus-pocus and that told us where you were and when you’d be back… So here I am. Everything go OK?”
Giles gaped again for a moment and said: “It was a…unique experience. You have the bus, you say? And there are motel rooms?”
”With showers? And beds?” Willow seemed to think this was a miracle beyond hoping for but Vi just nodded. “I am going to sleep for a month! But after I get clean…”
Faith said: “Is Robin OK?”
”Uh huh,” said Vi. “The doctor said he’d need to rest for a couple of months. Nothing strenuous….”
”Damn. Then I think I’ll take a shower first… And the bed. And sleep, dammit.”
Vi’s phone went off. “That’ll be Andrew wanting to know what’s happening. ‘Scuse me….You get yourselves on board the bus…”
Dawn and Buffy stood side by side at the edge of the crater peering down at the water as the others clambered sleepily on board.
“Did we do right by them, Dawnie? Did we make things better or worse for them, with all our warnings?”
”I dunno. Could go either way. Remember how often we were on a knife edge and the tiniest thing made a difference…. But we did our best and I don’t think we held anything back…. Let’s hope we helped. Anyway, I got my… my W-I-S-H (well, one of them anyway) and I’m happy so there.”
”Well, of course that’s the important thing,” said Buffy and gave her sister a hug before they turned towards the bus. “Did I remember to tell them about…”
”Leave it, Buffy. Just leave it.”
Vi intercepted them on the way to the bus.
“Buffy, the phone call’s for you.”
”I really have nothing to say to Andrew right now, even if he is being useful for once in his life.”
”It’s not Andrew. Some guy with a Bronx accent….”
On the bus, a bone tired Xander Harris sank back into a seat with a deep sigh. He glanced across at Giles as he sat there looking as pole-axed as Xander felt.
”Hey, how’s it goin’?”
“Well, actually I’m just sitting here thinking: Andrew is organising things? Andrew is being useful? Andrew?”
“Heh. Know what you mean. Somebody’s got to be and I’m wrung out.”
”Hmm. Me too. When we’re both feeling better, at whatever far distant future date that turns out to be, we must talk. There’s a lot of rebuilding to do: I could use your help. Not just for carpentry, though that will probably be included somewhere along the line.”
”Uh huh. We’ll see. What’s with her?”
Giles turned and saw that Buffy had climbed on board the bus, with Dawn close behind her. She had a thoughtful look on her face as she handed the phone back to Vi in the driver’s seat.
“Something wrong?”
”Oh no. Not at all. Umm. Very right. Apparently, the Powers… Umm, they agreed with me. Said it wasn’t right that I should get a W-word thing when I wasn’t expecting it….”
”Buffy?” Willow’s voice sparked with hope. “They gave you another W?”
”Uh huh. Another big W.”
”Buffy,” said Giles, “you must be very careful…”
”Buffy, I… “
“Buffy, could you….”
From every part of the bus, people spoke and then stopped, not daring to ask.
She felt a grin every bit as big and silly as the one she had smiled as Sunnydale sank into the ground spread across her face and said:
”No! I have thought it through and I know just what I want. Hear me, you Powers. I Wish that…”
Ah, but that’s another story.
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