Author's Note 1: Yes, I am insane. Get used to it. :>
Author's Note 2: This little tale stems from some comments made on the XanderZone list a few months back about why no one had ever done a story where one of the people affected by the Slayer activation spell was a celebrity. I let the idea churn in my head but couldn't decide on a celeb until catching an episode of "E! True Hollywood Story" one weekend. This is the result.
Author's Note 3: This takes place a couple weeks before Christmas 2003.
Author's Note 4: The celeb in question is not an "A-Lister" because I didn't want her to be immediately recognizable. I thought it would be more fun for the Scooby who runs across her (Xander) to have to try to figure out where he knows her from.
** ** **
'Do all hospital hallways have to be the same color?' Xander thought. 'Someone needs to break in here one night with paint cans and rollers.'
He put a dollar in the coffee dispenser and watched it drop and fill a styrofoam cup. When it finished, he carefully picked it up, stepped over to the right-hand counter and grabbed his own drink, a marshmallow-laden hot chocolate.
Taking a good look at the newly-discovered Slayer under the bright hospital lights, he revised his estimate of her age slightly upwards. 'Thirty,' he thought, 'give or take a year.' A vacant look was in her green eyes as she sat in front of the ER doors waiting for the doctors to invite her back to see her husband. 'Will those eyes ever really be alive again,' he wondered, 'once she knows about Slaying and what it means? Never seen it do anyone any good. Not Buffy. Not Faith. Even Kenny's got more serious since she...since they all got the Call. Now her. Another life ruined.' He walked over and held the coffee out to her. She took it with a ghost of a smile, the best she could manage to give.
"Thanks."
Xander sat in the chair on her left so he could see her out of the corner of his remaining eye.
"We just got married in June," she whispered. It was, to his surprise, a somewhat familiar voice. Why did this stranger's voice make him think of Anya? Damn. Now he'd be trying to figure it out the rest of the night.
"How long have you been together, you and...?"
"Jay. Five years." She snorted. "We met a few years before we ever dated. I thought he was arrogant. He thought I was a brat. Disdain at first sight. I was separated from Rodney, that bastard, when we met again. Looked across the room, there was Jay and this switch just flipped in my head from 'Enh, arrogant' to 'Oooh, yummy.'" She ran a finger across her wedding band as if it were some magic ring of strength. It was then he noticed the ink under it.
"Tattoo?"
"Several, actually. This is Jay's name. He has mine on his finger. With each other 'til we're dead."
Xander winced and bit his tongue to keep from responding. 'Don't need to tell her it'll be sooner than she thinks. Even if she doesn't join the fight. Dammit, why couldn't there have been some other way? Well, no time travel. No way to change things. Fine. My fault you're getting dragged into this, lady. My responsibility to keep you alive. And I will, my word on it.'
She was still talking, back down to a whisper. "We've, we've been talking about kids. Maybe one, maybe a lot. I can't lose him. Not like this. We've fought so hard to make this work. To...to fix ourselves. Our problems. It was the hardest thing we've ever done but we did it. We went. We fought for it. We won. I just can't believe this." He hands shook and the hot beverage rolled in dangerous waves through the cup. "Jay. Oh God, Jay."
Xander took a deep breath and shifted in his seat to face her squarely. "Look at me," he commanded, lifting up his patch. "Really look at me." She obeyed, flinched and gasped at the sight of his ruined eye. He forced himself to show no response to her reaction. "I lost this fighting these things. I've closed the eyes and said a final goodbye to some really good people after fights with these things. Your husband got tossed into a wall and knocked silly. He's luckier than most people and he'll be fine."
"You're barely twenty. How could you--"
"Twenty-two. I lost my best friend to vampires when I was sixteen and the woman I loved died in the Final Battle of Sunnydale this summer."
"Sunnydale? 'Sinkhole Sunnydale?'"
"Don't believe everything you see on CNN." Xander pulled his patch back down and sipped his hot chocolate. "Sunnydale was proof that De Nile is more than an African river. Sunnydale was the Mouth of Hell Itself and we paid the price of closing it in the blood of friends, allies and innocent bystanders too stubborn to heed the warning signs and get out while they still had a chance."
"Why?"
"Which 'why' are you asking? There's more than a few. Unless you mean the generic 'Why me, Lord? Why me?' When I finally die, I'm gonna ask that question to God's face myself. And if I don't like the answer, I swear I'll kick him in the balls. He's got a lot to answer for. But ask YOUR 'Why?' I'll tell you what I know."
Footsteps approaching interrupted them before she could say anything.
"Mrs Grdina?" an older, feminine voice asked.
"How's Jay?"
"I'm Doctor Lillian Mancini," the salt-and-pepper-haired lady said. She wasn't quite elderly, Xander decided. Late 50s at the outside. Petite, though, and well on her way to little-old-Italian-lady status. "Your husband is going to be well, Mrs Grdina. We have decided, however, to keep him overnight for observation even though we don't anticipate any problems."
"Can I see him?"
"They're taking him up to room 417 as we speak. Follow me and I'll show you to the elevator."
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