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(This is original story written by Chris Kenworthy, based on the Buffy characters, who he does not own etcetera etcetara...)
With a sigh, Buffy thumbed the handheld electronic adventure game off and stashed it in the backpack beside her sleeping bag. "Who is it?" she asked, having an idea of the answer.
"Xander. Can I come in?"
"Uh, yeah," Buffy said, getting up off of her stomach and sitting up in bed. Out of reflex, Buffy glanced down at herself - pretty much all she was wearing a gray flannel nightgown, but she probably looked pretty good in it.
Xander unzipped the tent door, and smiled as he saw her, bathed in the soft white glow of the night-light electric lantern hanging from the top of the tent. "Hey there Buff," he muttered, stepping carefully in, sitting down on the tent floor, and zipping the door back closed. "How are you doin'?"
"Uh, okay," Buffy said, without much enthusiasm.
"It's a lot of hard stuff to deal with, isn't it?" he said with a warm smile. "Hearing about dying, trying to grasp the idea of having to kill your own son. You must be freakin' out inside. You always did." Xander shook his head at her, chuckling under his breath. "You try to present this persona, so calm, so together, when you're falling apart underneath. God, I remember like it was yesterday."
"So..." Buffy put her lips together and blew in a fierce exclamation of frustration. "Am I allowed to say that this is SO weird? I mean, I'm madly in love with Xander, but... my Xander. The one who's my age, who's in Sunnydale and I can't get to for another, what, almost three months." She laughed hollowly. "And here you are, you're right here, close enough to touch, but... but you're not my Xander, are you? You're from ten years in the future, from a future that I didn't get into." She cast her eyes down, shaking her own head. "I mean, well, just for example, what's the deal with you and Cordelia??"
"Oh, man," Xander groaned. "I wish you hadn't just asked me that."
"I bet," Buffy cracked. "No luck, I asked. What's the dirt??"
"Well, uh, yeah, we're kinda, um, together," Xander told her. "We have two little kids, even. Richard is six years old, and Nancy is two."
"Kids?" Buffy muttered, astounded. "Are you... um, are you, er, married?"
"Uh, no..." Xander said uncertainly. "Oh, Buffy, please, c'mon... don't take this the wrong way. And please, please don't get posessive and jealous about your Xander and the younger Cordelia - none of this even started until more than a year after you died. It's just... the weight of horror, of fighting the handmaidens of the Apocalypse night after night, seeing the demons take over the world bit by little bit..." Xander broke off, shaking his head.
"Actually, I'm not sure how much that's part of the point," Xander admitted. "The point is, we started to get close, you know. As partners, and good friends. One night, after a big raid went wrong, we just, um, kinda ended up in bed together. Gradually, bit by bit, it became a regular thing. There wasn't any love between us, just good friends taking comfort with each other. I, em," Xander was blushing now, "I'm not proud of it, but it's something that happened pretty often in the Resistance. There's too much death and pain in my world to not take comfort where you can find it, and too much chaos and disruption to hold out looking for something you might never find. The same thing with having kids, actually, to a certain extent - kind of a need to give ourselves something to live for. And something to fight for." He sighed. "The little ones are getting watched by good friends - not that our world is really going to exist one way or another, after we're done here. Win or lose, the timelines are going to change."
"Uh..." Buffy was staring wide-eyed at this point, unable to really comprehend what Xander had been telling her. "Uh, what about Willow? Does she have, um, kids, you know?"
"And a sex partner?" Xander quipped, recognizing the other object of Buffy's curiosity. "Well, don't tell this to your Willow, but yeah. You wouldn't know the guy. And yes, she has one little boy, Darren, who's five. He's my little Ricky's best friend."
"Wow," Buffy said, overwhelmed, but in a kinda happy way. "I bet they're pretty cute together, huh?"
* * * *
"Okay, now, as you can see, you've gotta bury the platinum wire up under the wood of the staff itself..."
"I can indeed see, Miss Rosenberg," Vanessa said, with an aggrieved sigh. "I think that I can indeed make out everything of importance about the fabrication of this staff. If it's okay with you, I'd like to take a little time making the copies of those sketches now, since there is not an inordinate amount of time, and it'll give me a chance to examine them in greater deal at the same time. I'll consult you if I have any questions at all."
"Uh," Willow said, frowning. "Wouldn't it be more efficient if I was there while you were making the copies?"
"Perhaps," Vanessa groaned, "but I would rather do it myself, if that is alright."
"Uh, okay," Willow said, a little aggrieved. "You'll let me know when your squad makes it back with the crystal, yes?" A picked troupe of Resistance fighters had been sent out on a raid to retrieve the magical resonance crystal - the key component of Willow's Slaystaff. Both the Slayerettes of the present and the future Willow had been decided unsafe risks on that mission, though, so Xander and his friends were waiting anxiously while Willow bugged Vanesssa about the plans for the Slaystaff.
"Hi, Xander," Willow said, startling him out of his own thoughts. "Mind if I sit with you a while?"
"Not at all, pull up some couch," Xander shot back with a smile. "Hey... you've got one of those ring thingies." Sure enough, on Willow's hand was a ring with a silver cross on a black background - the Watcher's insignia. Rupert Giles hadn't tended to wear his very often, but all the gang had grown quite familiar with the Watcher ring during Akira Tojo's tenure - it was how Buffy had first recognized Tojo as a Watcher, in fact. "You didn't have this back, well, back now, did you?"
"Nope," Willow said with a smile. "It was another few weeks after this date before I got deputized as a full watcher, and got my ring." She waved the ring in the air, smiling at it briefly, then beginning to frown. "God, I haven't worn this ring in so long. After, well, after there weren't Slayers any more, there didn't seem much point in calling ourselves Watchers any more. There was only Resistance Humanity, after that day. But going back, into this time, I felt that putting this ring back on would be the right thing to do."
"Hmm," Xander said thoughtfully, then smiled up at Willow.
* * * *
In his chambers at the Town Courthouse, Obayana Jesse Summers Calhoun stared pensively into a crystal ball. The omens he saw within bespoke something truly strange happening on this night - an arrival from a place incredibly far forward, a seeming benefit to Obayana's enemies that would actually work to the benefit of the undead cause... and something about demon spirits.
He squinted, trying to make better sense of the images he saw, when a knocking sounded on his door. "What is it?" he barked, hating the fact that his voice was so young and thin. Well, no matter. His voice might be pitiful in and of itself, but Obayana's followers had learned to fear him anyway.
"My apologies, your majesty," a voice called out fearfully from the other side of the door. "It is your servant, Jasper. I was told you did not wish to be bothered, but there are disturbing tidings that I thought you should know about."
"Very well," Obayana called, looking up from the seeing crystal. "Come!"
Jasper Sinclair opened the door, bowing nervously, and stepped forward. "My lord Fireking," he muttered.
"You say you have news to impart," Obayana reminded him. "Impart it."
"There was a raid on one of your Lordship's magical storehouses," Jasper said. "Humans. Very surgical strike - fits the modus operandi of the so-called 'Resistance.'"
"What was taken?" Obayana asked, somewhat bored.
"Only one item - a resonance crystal," Jasper said. "That was what peaked my interest - it should be useless without magic much more advanced than the humans possess. And we weren't about to make any particular use of that crystal - so why should they go to such effort, sacrificing the lives of half their number, to retrieve it?"
"Hmm... curious, indeed," Obayana said, a smile starting to form on his face. "What else? There's something more, I can tell."
"There is indeed," Jasper told him. "In trying to find out why that crystal might have been taken, it came into my head to question the Watcher - Tojo. He wasn't in his quarters, as he should have been, since he is not at work. Neither were the others - Harris and Chase."
"So, our 'Slayerettes' are absent without leave," Obayana said, nodding.
"Shall I have them sought out?" Jasper pressed. "Track the rebel guerillas to their base and destroy the lot of them?"
Obayana flicked his gaze down to the crystal, and suddenly everything he saw inside of it made sense. "No," he told his lieutenant with a smile. "Don't take action against the resistance, or seek out the Slayerettes. Wait for the three of them to return to their quarters or work placements. If they do, have them flogged in public - sixty lashes. To make an example of them. Nothing else need be done."
"My lord is wise," Jasper muttered, backing out of the room, but his face belied his words.
* * * *
Xander was torn apart by indecision. He suspected something about the future Willow - something that, by all rights, was impossible. Or at least unbelievable. Still, the nagging feeling inside of him would not go away. This wasn't something that he could talk about, tell Tojo or Cordelia his suspicions before he did anything. They wouldn't understand it, and anyways, it was supposed to be a secret. Telling anyone was far too risky. Xander could only hope that taking action didn't carry the same risks.
Could he dare, to do what he had to do? Well, why not? As outrageous as it was, there would be no real cost if Xander was wrong, except for surprise on the part of the others. Xander got up and wandered around, looking for something.
"Vanessa?" a resistance warrior said, rushing into the room.
"She is not to be disturbed," Tojo told him smoothly.
"Oh, uh, okay," the guy said, somewhat disgruntled. "We got her doo-hickey right here." He patted a box he had carried into the building. "I'll put it down right here - tell the commander-in-chief about it as soon as she's available, okay??"
Cross, cross, Xander thought to himself. Gotta be a cross here somewhere. It's the headquarters of a band of anti-vampire guerillas. They had to have crosses. Tojo and Cordelia were looking at him funny, so Xander left the room, still looking. There was a closet off of the corridor, and it was there that Xander hit the jackpot. Stakes, holy water, knives, and crosses by the handful. Xander picked up a moderately small silver number and pondered his next move.
How well did he remember this next bit? Pretty well, he thought. Contact, and then say the words. Nerving himself, Xander turned back around, walked as quickly as he could up behind the older Willow, touched the cross to her arm, and forced himself to speak. "Begone, foul spirit!"
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