Authors: Mike Mullen & Mike Budler
Rating: NC17. Sex and violence liberally sprinkled around
Spoilers: it’s set in S6 and it’s an AU, everything up to Grave.
Disclaimer: All BTVS characters are the property of JW and ME.
Summary: This story is set a little after Grave, it's an attempt by myself and MarineWicca to correct the horrrible ending of S6. It inolves the use of time travel, which leads to some serious complications.
Author’s notes: This story is completely separate from the 'Reality Check' sequence, and in fact was started before that, just took a long time to edit and polish up.
Feedback: Just add your comments at the end of the story.
Backtrack
Casa Summer’s, back Porch
Day was waning.
Elizabeth Anne “Buffy” Summers sat on the porch swing, absently rubbing the spot just above her left breast where, a scant nine days earlier, a bullet had smashed through with near lethal consequences. She contemplated the present, and the future.
No hugs and puppies in either case.
Situation: Tara McClay was dead. She even now lay buried in Rosedale Cemetary, a simple white cross marking her grave while they waited on a proper headstone. She was a victim of the same weapon that had laid Buffy herself low.
“I guess I’m lucky.” the blonde Slayer thought,” At least Will was able to save me…unlike Tara. God, had the bullet that hit me had been a little further to the right…” She shivered,” And the funny thing is, if it would have saved Tara, I could have accepted dying again…OK Buffy, don’t go there.”
Situation: Her best friend, and now a murderess…though what Willow had done to Warren had been less murder and more wholesale slaughter, now sat on a bed in the neuropsychiatry ward of Sunnydale Medical Center. Sitting in the corner of a room that was more like a prison cell than a hospital room; the young witch was totally cut off from the outside world, completely catatonic in the wake of her attempted suicide/attempt to destroy the world. God, how Buffy wanted her back, to see those eyes sparkling green and those locks flaming red again.
“Oh, Will,” she sighed,” I miss you!”
Situtation: Anya was a vengeance again, doing who-knows-what to who-knows whom.
Situation: After the…well…nothing less than a miracle Willow had performed at the hospital and talking his childhood friend out of a pointless suicide, Xander had thrown himself into his construction work at a feverish pace, barely taking time to eat (never thought she’d see that) or sleep, always looking over his shoulder to see if Anya and/or Halfrek was waiting to exact revenge for the aborted wedding.
Situation: Dawn was in her room, sullen, not speaking, all those bright hopes after they had climbed out of the earth broken on the rocks of Willow’s despair, and the senses that somehow Buffy should have saved Tara.
“Yeah, right,” the Slayer observed,” Like there was a lot I could do while I was lying there bleeding to death…OK, not fair.”
Tara had been a surrogate Mom to Dawn.
“More so than me,” Buffy murmured,” I was too busy working at the Doublemeat and screwing Spike to pay attention…some guardian I am.”
Situation: Spike was gone. Where? Who knew? After a little farewell present in the form of an attempted rape of course.
“He’s gone, one positive note I guess; so then why do I still feel so empty?”
She didn’t even want to pursue THAT thought.
Situation: Giles was sitting in a hotel room beating himself up for doing too little too late, his magic might have stopped her blowing up the world but it couldn’t heal the wounds in her soul.
Situation: HOPELESS!
Buffy suddenly stood and paced angrily,
“NOOOOOO!!” she wailed,” It can’t play out this way! I won’t see my friends, my world, destroyed this way. I’ll find a way to fix this if I have to kill every person on the planet to do it!”
She didn’t know that she was thinking almost word-for-word what Willow had not long ago.
Worse, she didn’t know that it might just come to that.
The Hospital
The doctor opened the hatch and looked into the room, the patient was sat on the bed staring at the walls. There was very little actually in the room besides the bed; anything that conceivably could be used in a suicide attempt had been removed, which given the ingenuity of some of the patients meant everything. He closed the hatch and moved on.
As the doctor left Willow turned her attention to the left hand side of the door.
Rack stood there with an insolent grin on his face, “So Red this is your new place, nice.” Willow stared hard trying to see the wall behind Rack, “Ah come on Red, who else have you got to talk to? All your friends are busy forgetting you ever existed. Can’t blame them of course, after you tried to kill them and all.”
“I didn’t, I didn’t mean to hurt them.”
“Hey I don’t blame you. I mean you go and bring your best buddy back from beyond and all she can do is whine about some fuzzy cloud crap. And when it’s your turn what do they do? Stick the love of your life in a hole in the ground and forget she ever existed. I wonder if they even got her a headstone?”
“Honey you know that isn’t true.” Willow snapped her head round. Tara stood in the opposite corner to Rack, she was wearing that green dress Willow liked, the one she had worn that day in the park when she had sung her heart out.
“You know they care for you, they would do anything they could. And you know this isn’t for ever, I’m waiting for you.”
Rack’s laughter silenced Tara, “It’s going to be a long wait. Seriously Red, you burned a guy to ashes and you tried to kill a whole shitload of others, you really think you’re going to get an invite to heaven? You know where you’re going, and till then you’re alone, hell even I’m just in your head.” Willow looked back towards Tara; there was nothing to see but a grey wall.
The doctor rushed back and quickly signalled the orderly to open the door. The patient was screaming, stopping only to draw enough breath to start again. The orderly filled a syringe and handed it to the doctor. The man injected Willow and slowly she fell asleep. Even then the doctor saw that her face was contorted into a grimace.
Buffy found the hospital literally nightmarish, it was too similar to the place she had hallucinated, one more thing she had to thank the ubernerds for. She hadn’t wanted to bring Dawn, her sister was insistent and Buffy couldn’t really refuse, especially as the doctor had also suggested it might help. A white-coated figure approached and stuck out his hand. “Miss Summers, and this would be Dawn I take it?”
“Hello Dr Simons yes this is my sister.”
“Hi.” Dawn was fidgeting, she didn’t care about some dumb doctor; she wanted to see Willow. Simons smiled with a cultivated kindness. He was fiftyish, with thinning grey hair and an air of calm about him. He seemed to read Dawn’s mind.
“I’ll take you to see Miss Rosenberg in a few moments, but I must warn both of you to avoid becoming over excited, I’m hoping you will elicit a reaction from her, but I don’t want you to press too hard.” He was looking at Dawn as he spoke. She nodded emphatically.
Willow had been practically carried into the meeting room; she seemed completely unaware of the change of scenery. Dawn stopped just inside the doorway as Buffy took the seat opposite Willow. Dawn couldn’t quite believe it actually was Willow, could Warren have built some sort of Willowbot. The being sat in the chair was devoid of life; Willow just stared at a spot on the floor.
“Willow, it’s us, I promised we would come to see you.”
“Hi Willow.” Dawn tried to be cheery but her voice cracked involuntarily. It didn’t matter; Willow didn’t appear to have heard her.
Buffy tried again, “Willow please talk to us, please.”
And quite suddenly Willow did, “Let me go.”
The voice was barely a whisper, but it was music to Buffy’s ears, “Will? I know you want out of here but you need to get better, the doctors can help you.”
“Let me go, please.” Willow repeated her words mechanically; her dead eyes locked with Buffy’s, “I don’t want to be here any more.”
Buffy’s words of encouragement tasted like ashes, as she understood what Willow was asking. She glanced at Dawn and saw the fear in her eyes. She had hoped her sister had missed the intent of Willow’s words, no such luck.
She turned back to Willow, “Please Will, don’t, don’t say that. Tara wouldn’t want that.” It almost choked her to do it; it was the only thing Buffy could offer as a counter.
Willow’s face turned cold, “You don’t know what she wants, just let me go.”
Dawn couldn’t keep quiet anymore, “Willow, no, it’s true, she loved you; she wouldn’t want you to…” She didn’t say die, as if saying the word would make it happen.
Willow turned that frozen gaze on Dawn, “You don’t know.” Then she turned her gaze back to the floor and it softened back in to blank absence.
As Buffy closed the door behind her Dr Simons emerged from an adjacent room.
She turned to Dawn, "I want to talk to the doctor, just wait here a sec, ok?" Dawn nodded, though her sullen expression said it was far from ok. Buffy practically manhandled Simons back into the observation room. It was a cramped space, most of it being occupied by video monitors and recorders.
Simons could see Buffy was upset and tried to be conciliatory, "I realise that was difficult, it was successful though."
"Successful?" Buffy practically spat the word at Simons, “What were you watching in here, Wheel of Fortune?”
“You have to see this from our perspective, until today we hadn’t been able to get her to say a word. If we can get her to open up and talk about what happened then we could begin to help her.”
It made perfect sense to Buffy, and it was just as clear that it wouldn’t work. If Willow opened up and told the truth they would lock her up for being delusional, and if Willow lied how could they help her? She knew that there was only one solution, it was insane but then everything about this situation was crazy, maybe crazy was the only way to go here, She resolved there and then, she was going to fix this, she was going to make things like it never happened.
I’ll make it like it never happened. The words echoed in Willow’s head, cutting through the babble of thoughts around her.
She glanced round and saw Rack leaning against a wall, nodding approvingly, “Now that’s my Red, you want it, you go get it.”
The orderly escorting Willow was surprised to see her smile, there was something inhuman about it that sent a shiver down his back
Later at Home
As darkness fell Buffy made ready, clad in black turtleneck, black jeans, black cowboy boots and her trademark leather jacket, Buffy knocked softly on Dawn’s door and walked in. The teen-ager was lying on her bed staring at a book she obviously wasn't reading. Without looking over, she asked. "What do YOU want?"
Buffy sighed and thought 'OK, deserved that.' What she said was "Dawnie, I-I've got to go out for awhile. Xander's coming by with pizza...."
Now Dawn threw down the book and glared at her sister.
“So that’s it? We’re not even going to talk about what happened?”
This was worse than she had expected, “Dawn there isn’t anything we can do.” It hurt her to lie but if she even hinted at what she had in mind she would never be able to make Dawn stay behind and this was going to be tough enough without having to keep looking out for Dawn.
“Well I’m so glad you had your special slayer insight to tell you that, instead of actually trying or anything. I hope you have a nice time, because nobody else is.”
"That’s not what…!" Buffy said, a bit more harshly than she intended, she regained control, this had to be just another night. "It’s, you know the whole uh patrol thing"
"Not seeing a slayage kit,” the Key observed.
Buffy reached into the sheath sewn into her jacket and withdrew her favorite stake. "See, Mr. Pointy...all prepared." She said; trying to sound a lot more cheerful than she felt. She hated to lie to Dawn and knew she wasn't good at it.
"Yeah," Dawn spat, "Right."
Buffy shook her head and stood up. "Dawn, please just listen to me. Take care while I'm gone. Just don’t open the door till Xander gets here, ok?"
Dawn was going to make another acid remark when she saw the look in Buffy’s eyes. She had seen that look before, the night Buffy had thought she had killed that girl. It was a look that said she was going and she might not be back. Buffy took her silence as sulking and turned away.
“Buffy be careful.” The words were quiet but plainly audible.
Buffy turned and smiled, “I will be.” Of course that was another lie.
Sunnydale Police Station
It was a slow night, even by Sunnydale standards and Sergeant Dick Connors, who had the desk this evening, was bored. He’d finished his paperwork and the latest issue of Playboy wasn’t even holding his interest. “Never thought I’d wish for action in this weird burg. If the Mayor had carried off that Ascension thing of his, maybe I’d be a lieutenant now and somebody else would be sitting here.”
Careful what you wish for, Sergeant. He looked up as a petite blonde walked in the door and strolled up to the desk. He ran an appreciate gaze over her figure, then asked with a slight leer;
“Help you, little lady?”
Buffy managed to suppress a vague look of disgust.
“Yeah,” she said evenly,” You can give me the keys to the cell block for starters.”
Connors's brow furrowed, then he smiled.
“Yeah, sure, but how’s about you and I step into that supply room and have a little ‘discussion.’ first.”
Buffy sighed. “Oh PLEASE, and, by the way, wrong answer!”
She followed up the retort with a roundhouse kick that caught Connors across the face and sent him flying into the wall beneath a rack of shotguns and automatic weapons. Before he could recover, Buffy vaulted over the counter, cuffed the sergeant with his own handcuffs, ad plucked his Glock 9mm from its holster. Levelling the weapon at Connors, Buffy spoke in a deadly monotone:
“Not usually large on the guns, but I’ll make an exception in this case,” She thumbed back the hammer of the pistol,” Keys...NOW!!!”
Connors cut his eyes to the dispatcher’s office and silently cursed when he remembered that Rhonda was on dinner break. He didn’t like the look in the blonde’s eyes and he suddenly realized that she fully intended to pull the trigger if he didn’t comply.
“Top right-hand desk drawer, but you won’t….”
“Yeah, yeah,” Buffy interrupted, "Won’t get away with this, blah, blah, blah, bored now.”
She pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of her jeans and shoved it in the sergeant’s mouth as a makeshift gag. Just think,” she added brightly,” You’ll have two less prisoners to watch now” The she added darkly, “By the way, really don’t like people staring at my boobs.” With that, she backhanded him across the face.
She found the key to the gun cabinet and twisted the wrong way in the lock, snapping it in half as she did so, “Insurance,” she commented, and proceeded into the cellblock.
Jonathan and Andrew looked up as they heard the door to the cellblock open. Dinner had been served already and beyond feeding them the cops pretty much left them alone. They were being held without bail until the trail and the public defender assigned to their case had pretty much told them it was hopeless, especially as they were being blamed for the damage to the station after Willow attacked. It was with a certain amount of surprise when they heard the keys in the lock and outright shock when they saw who was at the door. The last thing in the world they expected to see was an armed and determined looking Buffy Summers.
“Slayer,” Jonathan managed when he found his voice, “What are you doing here?”
“What does it look like,” she replied sarcastically, “Busting you two clowns out of jail. Let’s go!!”
Rhonda Masters was, despite being second watch dispatcher at unarguably the worst
Police department in the entire country, in a good mood. She was a tall gangly brunette on the bad side of thirty, pretty in a girl-next-door sort of way. The reason she was happy was because she was hopelessly in love with Dick Connors. She knew it, everybody in the department with eyes knew it, and in fact the only person who didn’t know it was Dick Connors.
The ex-Army MP turned cop had come to Sunnydale from Bakersfield after a dispute over the shooting of a suspect and was not the sharpest knife in the drawer. He was vicious, crude and nobody in the department, clueless though all of them were on most things, could see what Rhonda saw in him. Love is indeed blind, and in this case, exceptionally stupid. Humming a tune, she pushed open the glass doors to the reception area and called:
“Dick, I’m back, I stopped at Wendy’s and got chilli because I know you like…”
Her voice died and the fast food bag hit the floor when she saw her sweetie struggling to his feet, hands cuffed, sidearm missing and trying unsuccessfully to get at the keys at the front of his belt. Rhonda ran over, helped him get erect and pulled the now-bloody gag from his mouth. His left eye was swelling shut and Buffy’s kick had also knocked out two teeth, which he spat onto the floor.
“Dick,” Rhonda stammered, “What….”
“Get these fucking cuffs off” He snapped, then quickly filled her in on what had occurred, Rhonda’s eyes widening at that the thought that this…this…girl could have taken down her true love.
“Get a hold of Captain Thomas.” Connors ordered. In the wake of the whole fiasco with Mayor Wilkins a couple of years back there had been a flurry of resignations, the chief of police being one of them. He had never been replaced and Captain Michael Thomas had been running the cop shop on a pro-tem basis ever since.
“I’ll put the word out to the troops.”
Connors went to his regular desk, took his back up sidearm, and holstered it. He then proceeded to the dispatch office, flicked the switch on the radio panel to all page, and began to speak:
“Attention all units! This is Sergeant Connors. Be on the lookout for a Caucasian female, 5feet 3 inches; weight approximately 110 pounds, blonde hair, and hazel eyes. Charges are as follows. Assault on a police officer, aiding escaped felons, theft and destruction of city property, illegal possession of an automatic weapon and attempted murder.” bit of reach but what the hell, Connors decided and went on. “Suspect may be in the company of two Caucasian males. Suspect is considered armed and extremely dangerous. If sighted, do not, I repeat, do NOT attempt to apprehend. Shoot to kill…I repeat, SHOOT TO KILL.”
Connors switched off the radio and turned to find Rhonda staring at him in horror.
“You…you can’t do that.” Whatever her feelings for Connors her instincts as a cop told her that wasn’t right.
Connors grabbed her by the arm and growled” Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do,
bitch. That girl’s ass is grass and I’m the lawn mower!” as she saw the blind fury in his eyes Rhonda began to feel something nagging at the back of her mind. It was while longer before she could actually call it a doubt.
Streets of Sunnydale
Buffy Summers moved through the side streets and back alleys of town, handgun at the ready, prodding her two captives before her, she found the presence of the weapon had eliminated the pair’s tendency to bitch and whine. She’d laid out the expectations from the beginning:
“Simple fact. You guys try to jackrabbit on me and I shoot you in the knees and drag
you, capisce?”
The Dork Duo nodded dumbly. The dark stain at Andrew’s crotch was indicative
of how seriously HE took threat. So on they went, ducking behind bushes and flattening themselves against walls whenever a police car passed. Buffy knew there was an APB out on them; somebody was going to let that cop loose sooner or later and she was betting on sooner. They finally made their way to Rosedale Cemetery and approached an all too familiar crypt.
“What!” Buffy shrieked, “You guys moved in next to Spike!”
Jonathan shook his head emphatically.
“Great,” Buffy said wearily,” Neighbors. I’ve been to catch up with you how long and you’ve been right under my nose while I…uh...never mind. Ok, in.”
Andrew spoke for the first time.
“They, like, confiscated our keys and stuff when they busted us. We can’t GET in.”
“Oh, “ Buffy commented, “No big” and slammed her foot into the marble door, which shattered into a hundred shards of stone. She gestured with the pistol. “After you.”
The Summers House
Xander Harris was reasonably certain he had never NOT enjoyed a pizza as much as he wasn’t enjoying this one. He sat across the kitchen table from Dawn, who was picking absently at the slice of the pie and occasionally taking a sip of her Pepsi. Dawn had told him in sullen tones of what had occurred at Sunnydale Memorial, and then lapsed into silence. The tall construction worker found himself in the unenviable position of being at an absolute loss as to what to say to the teenager, but he knew he had to say SOMETHING.
“Look, Dawnie,” he began
“Don’t call me that!” She snapped, “I’m, not a child. My name is Dawn; use it”
“OOOkay “ Xander said slowly, this is going to trickier than I thought.
“Listen,” he began again, “I know that was pretty freaky, well, not, KNOW know since I wasn’t there, the whole Willow still catatonic, still wanting to kill herself
scene, and I realize that your sister isn’t right up there on your “A” list of fave
people right now...”
“Got that right,” Dawn mumbled.
Frustrated, Xander ran his hands through his hair; I have GOT to get through to her. “Alright,” he said after a moment to calm himself, “Believe what you will about Buffy, but I’m telling you that your sister is a fighter, you KNOW that, and you also
know that she’s Willow’s best friend. She’s gonna find a way to fix this, she has to,
for Willow’s sake...and her own.”
“HOW?” Dawn cried, bursting into tears, “It’s not like she can turn back time. Maybe
Willow could but, hello? No exactly coherent right now!”
Xander was saved from having to reply, when the phone rang. Since Dawn didn’t make any move to reach for it, he stood and picked it up on the third ring.
“Hello…hi Buff…wait…wait...slow down. You’re where? With WHO?! What…OK
OK, I’ll be right. OK, I’ll tell her, but she won’t like it. Fine, OK, Bye”
Xander took a deep breath.
“That was Buffy. She’s had a little bit of a scrape and she needs my help. I’ve got to go. I’ll be back as quick as I can.”
“I’m going with you,” Dawn said quickly.
“NO,” Xander responded, a little more sharply than he intended, “You’re not. I don’t have a firm handle on what’s going on and until I do I’m not risking you getting hurt”
“But Xander,” she pleaded,”She’s my SISTER. If she’s in trouble she needs me.”
Xander walked over and grabbed her by the shoulders.
“Listen...I know you want to help, but I’m going into the unknown here and I’ll be frank, I’m scared and when I’m scared I tend to make mistakes and I don’t want you
getting hurt being one of them. Please, I’ll check in as soon as I know something and
then, if I feel it’s safe, you can help, OK?”
The dark-haired teen nodded slowly, clearly not liking what she was hearing but reluctantly accepting it.
Xander smiled slightly and gave her a quick hug.
“OK, do not open the door to anybody accept Buffy or me.”
“Including Anya.” Dawn asked.
“ESPECIALLY Anya, and very especially if she’s got Halfrek with her.”
He walked quickly to the door and was gone. Dawn heard the throaty roar of his Ford Taurus starting and the squeal of tires as he tore away from the curb.
Dawn walked to the living room and turned on the TV, pizza forgotten, then froze as she listened to newscast.
“Repeating our lead story, there has been a violent jail break at the Sunnydale Police Station. The perpetrator assaulted a police officer in the process of freeing two suspects being held on charges of grand theft and murder.”
Pictures of Andrew and Jonathan flashed quickly across the screen.
“Here is composite sketch by our police artist based on a description given by Sergeant Richard Collins, the injured officer.”
Dawn paled as found herself staring at the face of her sister.
“Oh, Buffy” she moaned softly, “What have you done?”
The Crypt
The suspect in question paced the lower level of the crypt, her two charges in chairs facing her and looking more than a little apprehensive. The silence was deafening and
Finally Jonathan couldn’t stand it any longer.
“W-what do you want, Slayer?”
Buffy stopped at that and pivoted to face them. She had Collin’s Glock tucked in the waistband of her jeans. Presently, she drew it and fingered it absently.
“Let’s see,” she mused, “What DO I want….”
With Slayer speed she whipped the pistol up, cocked it, and fired two rounds into the floor at Jonathan’s feet. The young man jumped and then, he too, wet his pants.
“World peace would be nice”
“Blam! Blam! “
Two Star Wars action figured exploded in a cloud of plastic.
“A million bucks would certainly be welcome”
Blam! Blam!
A hanging model of the ENTERPRISE-E was now minus its warp nacelles.
“A little place in the country would be kind of neat.”
“Blam! Blam!”
Two empty Coke cans spun into the air.
“BUT, what I really, REALLY want…IS MY FRIENDS BACK, THEIR WORLD BACK THE WAY IT WAS, MY FUCKING LIFE BACK…IN OTHER WORDS,
EVERY THING YOUR PSYCHO LOONEY BUDDY WARREN TOOK AWAY,
THAT’S WHAT I FUCKING WANT!!!!!
She then waved the pistol at Andrew and Jonathan. Seeing that they were suitably terrified, and having vented some of her rage, she backed up and picked up a portable phone off a table.
“Excuse me, need to conduct some business.”
She spoke quickly; then hung up.
“OK, boys,” she said in a deadly monotone. “Listen up ‘cause I’m only gonna say this once. Xander is going to be here in a few minutes and then I have to run a little errand. When I get back, I want that what-ever-it-was you used to mess up time for me converted into a functioning time machine. Then, I’m going to go back and fix this entire pathetic mess you two nerds, oh, and the late unlamented Warren, created.”
Andrew spoke for the first time.
“I-I’m not sure…I mean…we’ve never…I don’t know…”
Buffy seethed.
“I don’t care what you THINK you can or can’t do, I’m telling you what you’re GONNA do…or else…and you don’t want to know what “or else” is Got it!”
Silence.
“OK,” she said sweetly, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Footsteps clattered down the stairs and presently Xander rushed in. He took in the scene of destruction; the spent shell casings, the shot up room, and most of all the distraught and dishevelled blonde before him.
“Uh, Buffy ….you may or may not know this, but there are a LOT of people looking for you right now.”
“Let ‘em look,” she said shortly,” here, catch!”
She tossed him the pistol. Xander almost dropped it, but then, military guy took over and he performed a quick maintenance check.
“OK, here’s the sitch, Buffy said, picking up a long sleeved, hooded sweatshirt from the floor,” Yuck, not my color but it will have to do. I just gave these guys their marching orders. “She shouldered into the shirt, then continued, “ I've got to scoot, but I’ll back. In the meantime, if they try to run or stop working, start shooting select body parts. Nothing fatal, I need these guys…For now” she added darkly.
“Right, gotcha” Xander replied, “Where you going?”
“Got to see Giles…got to tell him, well, what I’ve got in mind. He won’t like it. In fact, I’m pretty sure He’ll hate it, but I still got to tell him.”
“Check…uh, Buffy, can I see you upstairs for a minute before you go?”
“Sure,” she trailed after the young man, who turned to face her at the top of the staircase. He squared his shoulders and faced her:
“Two things. One I shouldn’t have to say this but I’ll say it anyway. Be careful out there. They put a shoot on sight order out on you and they’re taking it pretty seriously”
Buffy smiled a small, sad smile.
“Thanks, Xand, I will. I’ve got to if this is going to work.”
Xander smiled in return, “I know you will. Oh, number two, if you’re going to shoot someone, it helps to have a round in the chamber.”
Buffy had the good grace to look embarrassed, handed Xander the spare magazines wordlessly, and then was gone.
The Hotel
Buffy reached Giles’ hotel room without much incident, the last place Sunnydale PD expected their fugitive to go was a hotel barely three blocks from the station.
She tapped lightly on the door and Giles opened it. His face still bore the marks of his battle with Willow but they were at least beginning to fade now.
“Buffy, my God, I‘ve seen the news! Why, in God’s name would you…”
Buffy laid her hand on his arm and walked in.
“I didn’t have a choice Giles, I need them to do go through with my plan.”
That made Giles very uneasy, “What exactly are you planning?”
“I have to make it right Giles, and there’s only one way to do that, reunite Willow and Tara.”
“Buffy you can’t bring Tara back, resurrection is…”
“I’m not going to resurrect her, I’m going to prevent her dying in the first place.” Buffy informed him calmly.
Giles’ eyes bulged, “Buffy attempting to alter time makes resurrection look simple. The dark forces involved would destroy a mortal.”
“So just as well I’m depending on the nerds to come up with some techno fix.” She could see that Giles didn’t find that reassuring, “Giles after everything that happened I know I want to be here, in this world. I want to be there for Dawn, I want to show her the world and help her find her place in it. But I don’t know if I can do that knowing how much that little revelation cost everyone.”
“Buffy, Tara’s death was tragic, but it was her time, her fate.”
Now Buffy got a little angry, “I don’t buy that, we’ve beaten fate too many times, and I’m not going to give into it now. I have to save Tara to save Willow.”
That last comment gave Giles pause for thought. Hadn’t that been his purpose in coming back? To save Willow? Technically he had succeeded. He had found that spark of humanity in the girl and reawakened it. But what if that spark was all that remained? If so much of what she had been was destroyed that she couldn’t recover then had he truly succeeded? “What is it you want me to do?” He asked.
“Nothing right now. If this all goes wrong then I need to know that there will be someone here to look after Dawn, and Willow.”
“You I know I will.” He smiled hesitantly and Buffy returned it.
“I know I just wanted to hear you say it, and to see you.” Since it might be the last time. They embraced and then Buffy left, there was nothing more they could say.
Willow: ...I have to tell you....
Tara: No, I understand you have to be with the
person you l-love
Willow: I am
at: 12/29/02 7:18:17 pm