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Guardians of The Median by emmee
 
CHAPTER ONE
 
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disclaimer: All characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel the Series belong to the master himself, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, WB, Fox, etc. and whoever else. I own nothing. I just enjoy playing with them.

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Guardians of The Median

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Spoilers: Buffy S.5 Finale ('The Gift') and Angel S.2 Finale ('There's No Place Like Plrtz Glrb').
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"When The Beast threatens, the essences of The Chosen and The Childe combined shall bring about The Key, which is hidden within the depths of Dawn. The Childe will protect The Key for a time, until The Beast will finally have it in possession. The Chosen will defeat The Beast, but will be unable to stop The Tool of The Beast from using The Key. The Chosen will give her Gift to deactivate the doorways, thereby making it safe for The Key for a time.

"One of dark. One of Light.
Eternal sunlight. Eternal night.
One, a child Chosen.
One, a Childe turned.
The Chosen twice returned.
The Childe twice reverted."



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_____________________

Buffy Anne Summers
1981-2001
“BELOVED SISTER, DEVOTED FRIEND”
"SHE SAVED THE WORLD
A LOT."
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CHAPTER ONE

Buffy opened her eyes and was met with clear blue. She blinked a couple of times thinking it must be the light from the portal, but then looked around to see a beautiful meadow with green hills, gorgeous sky and pristine lake.


"Wha..?" She asked confused. She stood up quickly, automatically taking a defensive stance. Seeing nothing in the immediate area, she relaxed a bit and took in her surroundings more thoroughly. "Ok Toto. I don't think we're on the Hellmouth anymore."


All of a sudden a white light appeared directly in front of her, blinding her, so she had to close her eyes. After a few seconds, she took the chance to open them, and as she did, her breath caught in her throat at the sight before her. She wasn't sure if she could trust what she was seeing or not.


The figure gave her a loving smile and she finally found her voice. Gasping, Buffy breathed one word,


"Mommy?"


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Summers' Residence-


Spike didn't remember where he was or how he got there. All he knew was that in his whole existence, as a human and as a vampire, he had never felt as lost as he did now. He felt like he hadn't moved in days. And hadn't fed for even longer. He finally encouraged himself to sit up after several moments of just lying there enjoying the sweet nothingness that came with not knowing. He knew he definitely had to figure out where he was and how he came to be here. Damn, he couldn't remember anything. The only thing he knew for certain was that something was missing. Something was gone and as a result he felt inexplicably empty. He blinked his eyes trying to clear his vision. They were dry and swollen, but he couldn't remember how they got that way. When he could finally see, he looked around and found himself to be in the Summers' basement. Which, of course, he recognized from his days of sneaking around nickin' pictures of....


"Oh God...." He choked out a sob as that fateful night came back to him all at once. When he watched his light get put out. He was sobbing now as he remembered.


Dawn on the tower. The witches clearing a path for him to get up the tower. That little prat, Doc, was up there trying to cut up his Bit. They fought. Dawn's face as he was pushed off the tower by that old geezer. Falling to the ground. Knowing he screwed up.


"Buffy....oh God...." Even though the breathes were unneeded, he hyperventilated anyway, picturing Her.


Waking up. Seeing the Scoobs walking towards something. Limping up himself and seeing her lying amongst the rubble. Seeing his Golden Beauty crumpled on the ground. Not moving. Collapsing to the ground in tears. Not moving. She's not moving. All of a sudden, someone reaching for him and pulling his body to safety from the rising sun. Then nothing but darkness. Darkness. Despair. Emptiness. Why didn't she move...?


Suddenly he was brought out of his memories by a small voice from the direction of the stairs.


"Spike?"


"Bit?" he gasped out.


The next thing he knew, he was hearing thundering steps coming down the stairs, only then to have his arms full of hysterical teenager.


Against his chest he could hear her muffled voice, "Oh thank God Spike. I didn't think you were ever gonna wake up! I was so worried. I didn't know what I was gonna do." He returned her embrace awkwardly, not quite comfortable with the touchy-feely. She pulled away and looked him in the eyes, and he saw that he couldn't fool himself any longer into believing it was all some nightmare. It had all really happened. And the black hole of emptiness surrounding him grew larger.


He closed his eyes and bowed his head to keep the tears at bay. When he felt confident enough, Spike raised his head back up and whispered, "Dawn. I-I'm so sorry." The tears got the best of him finally, and he choked around the lump in his throat as the tears fell down his cheeks freely.


Dawn teared up at that and slowly shook her head, trying to find the strength to speak herself. "No. It's n-not your fault Spike." She seemed to get her emotions in check and repeated with vehemence, "No." Spike tried to open his mouth to argue, but she stopped him when she began to speak again. "It's not your fault. Giles and Willow and everyone else keep telling me that it's not my fault. So if it's not my fault, it definitely isn't your fault. Okay?" She took a deep breath and steadily met his gaze with as much conviction as she could muster and said again, "Okay!?"


Spike just simply nodded his head, producing the most miniscule grin at her determination. Quickly dropping that subject he said, "How'd I get here Bit? How long was I out? How long've I been here?"


Dawn quickly took a seat next to him on the cot and folded her legs Indian style. Spike leaned back against the wall and noticed his wound on his back for the first time as she replied. "We all brought you here after...." she trailed off, swallowed, and then continued on a different track. “We were all coming here and figured it would be easier to bring you with us, than drop you at the crypt. We were all exhausted, but Xander and Giles got you into Giles’ car and then brought you here and put you in the basement. You've been out since...um, it’s been two days." She finished quietly, but then perked back up and asked him quickly, "Are you hungry? You haven't eaten. When was the last time you ate?"


The whole time Dawn was talking, Spike just sat beside her silently, absorbing everything she was saying, but viewing it all through a stranger's eyes. He answered her question distractedly, "Uh, no. 'M not hungry. 'S been a few days. But, 'm fine Nibblet. Don't you worry 'bout me." He tried to reassure her, but knew he wasn't very convincing.


"Spike, ya gotta eat. You'll get all weak and growly." She replied trying to lighten the mood a bit.


"No Dawn. Really. 'M Ok. I d-"


She cut him off quietly, with an almost imperceptible, "Please?" She cleared her throat and continued looking straight ahead. "Please Spike? You gotta do it. For me. How will you take care of me and protect me if you don't eat? I don't think I could handle it if something happened to you too. Please?"


She sounded so helpless. So desperate. He knew there was no way he'd be able to deny her. Never could. She was a Summers. One of his three girls. Only now, she was the only girl. With that realized he resolutely nodded his head and replied, "Alright Bit. You got me. To the kitchen we go."


And with that, they hopped off the cot and headed up the stairs. As they reached the top Spike could be heard. "So, did the Watcher or the Whelp get me some goodies from the hospital or that crap from the butchers'?"


Then the basement door shut.


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Summerland-


They were sitting on the bank of the lake, soaking up the sun. But since there actually was no sun, they just pictured it in their mind's eye. Buffy broke the silence when she looked at her mother and asked, "Mom, this is nice, but....what's up? When you popped up all glowy you said you had to tell me something. So what's going on?"


Joyce graced her daughter with a cheeky grin and said, "You never were one for patience were you? You must get that from your father. Certainly not from me." She chuckled, "Okay honey, I'm sorry. I just figured after such a big fight you might want to rest and catch your breath while you had the chance." She stood after having said that, offered Buffy her hand so she would stand too, and then they began walking.


As she looked to her daughter, she saw the moment realization hit. A worried expression took over Buffy's face as she stopped walking and put a hand on her mother's arm to stop her also. "Uh....what do you mean, 'while I had the chance?' I-I'm dead. Aren't I? I mean wh- I'm here with you, so....dead. Right?"


Joyce stopped Buffy from continuing, "Ssh sweetie. I'll explain it. I promise." She linked their arms and started walking silently through the meadow.


Buffy's mind was reeling with all the implications of what her mom had said. She didn't understand. She wasn't sure that she wanted to understand. She had made her decision; she was at peace with it. And herself. She knew what she was doing when she'd jumped off that tower. She knew everyone she loved was gonna be okay, she knew she was gonna be okay. She knew she was done. But, apparently life in the Buffyverse was neither peachy, nor keen, even in the afterlife. Ugh! My life sucks! Why can't I just stay dead like a normal person would? was all she could think.


Her train of thought was derailed when she heard her mother start speaking to her again, "Honey, I know this is difficult for you to understand and accept, but you're not a normal girl. You can't help it. I couldn't help it. It took me a long while to finally realize that you couldn't help what you are. That you couldn't just stop being the Slayer. That's what you are, that's who you are. Just makes you even more special than I always believed you to be."


Buffy stopped walking again and turned to face Joyce, intent on arguing. "But, Mom, I...."


She just shushed her with a hand over her mouth and said, "Sweetie, I know you don't want to be special. But you are who you are."


"Mom, the Slayer is what I was. Who I was. I'm here with you. I'm not her anymore. I'm not the Slayer."


Joyce gave Buffy a large smile, full of pride and said, "You're right Buffy. You're not the Slayer anymore."


A triumphant look appeared on Buffy's face. "See. No point in arguin' about it." She began walking again, expecting her mother to follow. "Now, as strange as it seems, I'm starved. Let's get some food. How is it that I'm hungry anyway? I'm dead. Can you even get hungry in Heaven? What's up w-?"


Her babbling cut off abruptly when she heard her mother's calm and steady voice. "You're more important than that now."


Buffy turned towards her mother, her lack of understanding showing clearly on her face. "I'm more what than who when?"


Joyce smiled a smile that only a mother trying to make a child understand can pull off, and started speaking slowly, hoping it would help Buffy understand. "I said, you're right. You're not the Slayer anymore. You're something, someone more important and vital than any Slayer could ever be."


"Mom...." She had to swallow hard to get past the lump in her throat. She cleared it and started again, "Mom, what are you sayin'? What does this mean?" Tears started welling up in her eyes as she kept going, "Does this mean I can't stay here with you? Why can't I stay here? I don't wanna leave." She had tears streaming down her face now. "I'm supposed to be done." She finished in a weak whisper.


"Ssh. Buffy, its okay. I know it’s not fair to you. But, honey, you have to go back. This is just a transitional plane. Sort of like a limbo, you could say. It had to happen this way, sweetie. It's gonna be okay. But you have to go back. They need you." Joyce's voice had taken on a very serious tone.


Buffy figured at first glance, this would've looked like any normal conversation between a mother and daughter. The mother telling the daughter she had to do something she really didn't wanna do. Even after being exposed to it for five years, she could still appreciate the weirdness that was her life. After everything she'd been through, she should be used to it, but it still wigged her out to think that she was having a casual, everyday type of conversation, about returning from the dead, with her already dead mother. But, she was the Chosen One, the Slayer, the one girl in all the world, blah, blah, blah. Whatever. So this should be nothing. Heh! She was so not keeping quiet about this one.


"Who needs me Mom? I'm done. Finished. Finito. Je suis finis. There will be another Slayer called. So that means I can stay here. With you. Everyone is okay. I don't wanna leave!" She finished her tirade with a pout, looking all the more like a petulant child.


Joyce took a seat on the ground and pulled Buffy down alongside herself. "Come on. Pop a squat with me. We gotta talk." Once they were both settled, comfortably, on the grass, she started speaking again, in a comforting tone. All the while, performing the small soothing gesture of stroking her daughter's hair. "I don't know why they're making me do this," she stated in a wistful tone, "This would be so much easier if I weren't the one." She brought her gaze back to Buffy, still petting her hair. "But I guess they figured, with a girl as stubborn as you are, you would only listen to your mother." She offered, giving her trademark, all knowing grin.


Buffy was quickly becoming exasperated with the whole situation. Her irritation showing itself in her tone. "Who mom? Who are you talking about? Who sent you here?"


"The Powers honey." Joyce answered, making it clear she thought Buffy was smart enough to have figured that out. "Remember that strange man, Whistler?" At Buffy's nod, she continued, "His bosses."


"Okay, so what does this have to do with the immortal fashion victim's bosses?"


"Well, because they're not just his bosses. You work for them too. And they apparently aren't done with you yet, to put it in laymen’s terms. And to be all 'High and Mighty,' your work on the earthly plane isn't completed." Joyce finished in a haughty voice and with a grin.


"Wow. Man mom, you're just a messenger and you're already 'crypto-girl. God, is everyone that works for the Powers this vague?" Buffy asked snarkily. "I mean, do they teach classes? Or have books? '10 Easy Steps on: How To Vague It Up?' Or 'Cryptic Speak for Dummies?'"


"Ha ha. Very funny young lady. I'm not trying to be cryptic. There are some things I don't even know. And other things I do know, but can't tell you. You have to figure some of it out on your own. I can't tell you everything. That'd be cheating. And that's why they didn't tell me everything. Because they don't want me to divulge more than I'm supposed to." Joyce's countenance changed then, so as to relay the seriousness of the situation. "Okay. Joke time over. Time to get down to business before you have to leave. Lots to do young lady." She paused for a moment trying to gather her thoughts so that she could tell Buffy what was going on. And at the same time, taking into account the Powers, and what she could say while keeping herself out of trouble.


"Mom?" Buffy questioned her mother quietly, her nerves beginning to coil like a tight spring, as a result of the growing quiet. "Come on. Just spit it out. You're startin' to give me the wiggins. Being all with the pensive silence and the 'oh so disturbed' look on your face. Not helping much with the whole 'relax and calm down' vibiness you're trying to put out there. And, like you said before, I'm not exactly patience personified. So. Spill." She finished hoping to have projected a lighter tone, having learned the art of inappropriate humor from the master himself, The Xan-Man.


"Oh hush up child." Joyce chided in good humor. “Allow an old, not to mention dead, woman gather her thoughts and get them in working order. I'm trying to figure out a way to help you without gettin' myself in trouble with the 'Big Dogs.' Alright?"


"Okay. Sorry. You may continue with your thinking party." Buffy smiled and laid back on the ground. They had settled beneath a very large, very old looking Great Oak tree. She looked up towards the sky, watching the play of light shining through the leaves. She let out a contented sigh and then turned back to face her mother as she heard her clear her throat to begin speaking.


"So- Okay. As I said before, your work isn't completed. You're still needed down there. And this time it’s of greater importance than just being the Slayer."


A worried expression took over Buffy's features, "Whoa. Hit the breaks. I'm not gonna be a Slayer anymore?! Gotta tell ya’, not exactly on board the train car labeled 'loving this idea.' You guys can't send me back weak, not after...."


Joyce placed a hand on her daughter's knee to quiet her babbling. "No honey. You'll still have powers. Just like a Slayer." She paused, looking off into the distance, trying to find the right, not to mention safe, words. "Let me put it this way....You aren't going back as just the Slayer. Guess you could say you'll be an updated version. Evolved? Yes, that’s better. Evolved."


"Alright, so I'll be Buffy 3.0"


"3.0?"


Buffy nodded, "Well, yeah. I mean, I've already died once, so this is my third chance. When the Master killed me, I came back and I was Buffy 2.0 cuz I felt stronger." She shrugged her shoulders, "Makes sense I'm gonna be stronger this time too. So I'll be Buffy 3.0. Get it?"


Joyce couldn't keep the chuckle from escaping, but with a small shake of her head, her serious expression was back in place. "Well, yes dear, that may be true. But this time it’s a bit different. You're not just coming back from the dead after only a minute of CPR. You're actually dead. As in, it’s been a couple of days. As in, your funeral is being planned as we speak kind of dead."


To say Buffy was confused would be a massive understatement. Three words were being repeated again, and again inside her head. Couple of days!? How had it already been a couple of days? I've only been here for a little while? She shook her head, "Wait, wait, and wait. A couple of days? That’s not possible. I've only been here for...." she trailed off looking to her wrist for a watch, even though she knew there wasn't one. Crap! How long have I been here? She put her arm back by her side, "Well....I'm not really sure how long I've been here." Buffy then raised her chin with renewed confidence, "But I do know that I haven't been here for days. That’s for sure."


Joyce let her finish her rant, knowing this was a lot for Buffy to grasp and that it may take a little while for it to sink in and for her to understand. "Actually sweetie, that’s sort of....ambiguous. You have been, but you haven't."


"Huh?" was Buffy's reply.


"Well, you have been here for a couple of days. And yet, you haven't been here that long." When she noticed that Buffy's expression was unchanging she hastened to clarify. "According to everyone there, Dawn, Mr. Giles, your friends, you've been gone for a couple of days. But according to you and me, it’s only been a couple of hours." Joyce glanced back up to Buffy's face to gauge her reaction and saw that she was definitely understanding more, but she was still a bit confused. "Time is different here. What seems like only a couple of hours to us, is almost two full days back home. We're, in effect, in a different dimension. Time passes quicker there, than it does here, so when you go back everyone will have been mourning you for longer than it seems. To you anyway." She decided to pause her narrative there for a moment and allow it all to sink in with Buffy, and also to allow her to ask any questions she may have.


"So, then, when am I going back?" was her first question.


"That depends." was Joyce's simply stated answer.


"Okay, so, when the Powers send me back, to everyone there, I will have been gone for....we'll go with days. I will have been gone for days, but to me, it will only seem like hours?"


"Pretty much."


"When I get there, they're all gonna wig because they think I'm dead. It'll prolly traumatize Dawnie. She won't know what to think. Not to mention Giles. This'll set him on a Research Rampage. His Slayer being brought back from the grave by the Powers That Be." She made an 'hmph-ing' noise and her shoulders slumped, "They should really be called the Powers That Screw," she muttered.


"Honey, I know this is all very hard for you to understand but it had to happen."


"Mom...." Buffy didn't exactly like the way that sounded. "What exactly do you mean it had to happen? You keep saying that." she asked suspiciously.


"I'm not really the best person to explain the supernatural side of it all. I'm just here to help you adjust. They thought if I met you here first, and talked to you for a bit, you'd be less hostile." Joyce replied trying to ease Buffy's apprehension. "We all know how your temper is little missy."


Her mother was smiling at her, but she still didn't like the situation, "So, if you can't explain everything that’s going on who can? And why would I be hostile?"


Another figure appeared behind Buffy and said, "That'd be my department. And because you're always so violent."


Buffy whirled around to face the new arrival and then shut her eyes just as quickly.


"Ah crap."


"Hey kid," the figure smirked at her.



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Summers' Residence-


"Giles?"


Giles looked up from his perusal of nothing, on the dining room table to face Willow. "Hmm?"


She sat down at the table across from him and spoke in a quiet voice, "I just wanted to see how it was coming. Dawnie finally got Spike to eat; he got her to bed, and then disappeared again." She put her elbow up on the table and leaned her chin on the heel of her hand looking at him intently. "I don't think he's dealing."


Giles removed his glasses and began to wipe them, "As much as it pains me to admit, I do believe that he's taking this rather hard. And his way of coping is, in a manner of speaking, to completely ignore it."


Willow nodded in agreement, "Yea, he's thrown himself into taking care of Dawn so much that he's not even taking care of himself. She had to practically beg him to eat."


"Yes, well, I don't believe that we're going to like the results of his implosion, once he allows himself to feel." He placed his glasses back on his face with a long sigh and then went about trying to organize the various papers on the table.


"H-have you set up the s-service yet?" she asked hesitantly.


"Um..." Giles cleared his throat, "I'm, er, working on it. Or, trying to anyway." He sat the papers back down and leaned back in his chair, "It's surprisingly difficult to plan the funeral service for the Slayer when she wasn't any certain religion."


"What about a High Priestess? Or other high ranking Wiccan? It doesn't have to be religious. Just something to, ya know, h-honor her. W-what she did. For all of us." Willow was crying softly by the time she finished.


Giles sat back up and gently placed his hand over the one she had resting on the table. "We'll figure something out. I'll, I'll figure something out. Don't worry."


She sniffled a bit, but nodded her head nonetheless as she began to rise. "I'm gonna double check on Dawnie and then turn in myself." She came around to Giles' side of the table and placed a hand on his shoulder, "You should get some rest too. Cuz, honestly, the grunge thing ya got goin' on? Not really workin' for ya."


He responded to her small smile in kind, "Of course you're right. I'll turn in soon enough."


She gave his shoulder a few pats and then walked away, "'K. G'nite Giles."


"Goodnight Willow."


_______________________________________________________________




Summerland-

Buffy reopened her eyes, "Whistler," she deadpanned.


He chuckled, "Nice to see you too kid."


"What are you doing here?" she complained, almost whining.


"Well, you said it, I'm the 'immortal fashion victim' that works for the Powers That Be, right?" he asked while taking a seat on the ground in front of her. He pulled off his puke green fedora and perched it on his bent knee. He looked up at Buffy expectantly, "We gotta talk kiddo."


Joyce stood up then, "I'll just let you two have a nice chat. I'll be back after a walk." She looked to Buffy and received a small, albeit distracted, nod of acceptance, she could tell Buffy was more attentive to Whistler than her departure.


Buffy rose up on her elbows, affecting her best 'you're an ass' look, directed at Whistler, and said, "What? You mean I get to listen to you while you talk in circles and chase your tail?" She came off of her elbows and plopped onto the ground staring back up through the leaves. "Yay!" She exclaimed with false enthusiasm, "that’s always fun."


"Know what kid? You're a real laugh sometimes."


Buffy got back up onto her elbows and looked back at him with feigned concern, "Oh. I'm sorry. Did I hurt your feelings?" Off her elbows, again, back onto the ground, "Well, excuse me while I try to muster up the feelings needed to care. You always bring bad news. And I don't wanna hear any bad news. So you'll have to forgive me if I'm not exactly in a rush to start this conversation." They sat for a couple of minutes in silence, with Whistler picking at the lint on his blazer that only he could see. Finally she'd had enough and sat up looking at him expectantly. Still, he just sat there looking back at her. "Well? Get to yappin'. What're you waiting for?"


He just shrugged his shoulders and replied nonchalantly, "You said you weren't in any rush. I was just givin' you some time."


"Argh!" Buffy could almost swear there was steam coming out of her ears. "You...! Are just absolutely impossible!"


"So says you," he responded uncaring, sitting up and wiping his hands together, he rested his forearms on his bent knees, "Ready for our chat?"


She looked down her nose towards him, "Do I have a choice?"


"Nope," he said popping the 'p'.


Shrugging her shoulders, she looked back up to the leaves, "Guess you got your answer then."


Whistler nodded his head, "Alright....in a nutshell," he looked straight into her eyes as she looked to him, "you're prophecy girl again."


Buffy let out an unladylike snort, "Yea right." He continued to stare at her steadily, and she sat up straight. "You're kidding." Staring. "Tell me you're kidding." With him still staring, she let her shoulders drop. "Ah crap....Again," she muttered. "Wait! How come I didn't know about this shiny new prophecy? How come Giles didn't know about any new prophecy? He's always making with the research. How did he not know?"


Whistler went down on his left, leaning on his elbow, "Well, that’s kinda hard to explain. Let's just say that even the Powers don't know certain things. Unless its time for them to know."


She looked horrified, "What do you mean? I mean, how is that even possible? They’re the 'Higher Ups' right? They're the 'Big Dawgs' and all. They're supposed to know all about that prophecy hullabaloo. It’s not exactly reassuring to me when you say that they had no clue either."


Shrugging seemed to be a contagion as it was Whistler's turn this time, "What can I say kid? Even the Powers get surprises every century or so....Don't know how to explain it; it’s sorta like the fork in the road analogy. It could go one way or another."


Buffy started to argue, "But the Powers are supposed....Oh never mind!" She gave up the argument when she saw the look on the demon's face. "So what was the deciding factor then? Or what happened that made the prophecy reveal itself?"


"Pretty much when you died. Don't get me wrong, there were other factors also, but they were moot if you didn't jump. So your death was the clincher. If you hadn't died," he shrugged, "then I'm sure something else would've come about at some point to achieve the same results. But since you did die, there's no point in wonderin'."


"So you're saying that until I died, no one even knew this prophecy existed?"


Whistler nodded, "Essentially, yes."


Buffy threw her arms up in the air and looked towards the sky, "Well fabulous! Just great. I'm an enigma. I stumped the Powers!" She stopped for a second and thought, "Hey! That’s actually pretty cool. He he. Well, I never really was one for stayin' inside the lines."


"Yes, I know that fact very well, thank you," he answered dryly.


She rolled her eyes and picked at a blade of grass, "So what does this prophecy say?" She looked back to Whistler, "I gotta kick some demon's ass or something? Stop another apocalypse? Keep anyone from ever buying stonewashed jeans again? What?"


He looked at her warily, "Well, this is where it gets difficult to say."


Buffy looked at him suspiciously, "Whatsat mean?"


Whistler almost looked apologetic when he answered her, "I can't really tell you what’s going on. It just has to happen on its own. I'm basically just here to tell you that you're going back and that there are some big things about to happen. But I can't go into detail."


She rolled her eyes and shifted so that she could lean against the tree. "Great, the Mayor of Vagueville returns," she commented crossing her arms over her chest.


He held up his hands in surrender, "Not my fault, I ain't the boss."


Buffy waved her hands around, "Well, what exactly, if anything, are you able to tell me? Do I get any type of preparation at all?"


Whistler lifted one shoulder, "Sure, I'll tell ya what I can. But lemme tell ya this, it ain't much."


She cocked her head to the side and gave him her 'you're an ass' look again, "Right. So....tell me again how that’s different from every other time you’ve shown up?"


"Geez you're cranky."


When she answered him her voice was full of snark, "Yea, well, death'll do that to a gal. I'm allowed."


Joyce just happened to choose that moment to rejoin the two and witnessed her daughter's less than lovely attitude, "How now young lady. Don't get snippy with the man. He's only doing his job." She walked up to Whistler and gave him a sympathetic pat on the back, "Poor fella."


Buffy's mouth opened and the strangest sound emitted from within. It was somewhere between shock, disgust, anger, hurt, and who knows what else. This is Buffy we're talking about here. "Mo-om!" she exclaimed stomping her foot. "You're supposed to be on my side."


Joyce just looked at Buffy and shook her head reproachfully, "Not when you're being rude I'm not. We may both be dead, but I am still your mother. Behave."


She grumbled under her breath, but when she looked at her mother she realized there was no point in trying. "Alright. Fine." she turned to Whistler, "Speak on Fedora man."


The responses she received were a death glare from her mother and Whistler whipping his hat off of his head, pulling it against his chest and gasping dramatically. "You know, it’s a good thing I don't have to deal with Soul boy’s Seer too. You're bad enough by yourself. I'd have to quit my job."


Buffy looked to him in confusion, "Seer? Huh?"


He waved his hand towards her, "Yea, you know. That hot little firecracker Cordelia." He closed his eyes and made a sort of hissing sound, "Man, that’s one helluva woman."


Recognition appeared on Buffy's face, "Oh, yea. The vision thing. Forgot about that."


Whistler shook his head and gestured in a 'never mind that' way, "Anyway-This prophecy literally popped up when you jumped off the tower. We had no idea it even existed. Apparently, the Seer that wrote it, a thousand years ago, enchanted it somehow, so as to keep it hidden from everyone until that one critical moment activated it." He turned and pointed to her with the hand still holding his hat, "I'll give you three guesses, and the first two don't count, as to what activated it."


"My death," she answered quietly.


He jabbed the air in front of her, "Bingo! Tell the Lady what she's won Phil!"


"But what does that mean?" she cried. "Does the prophecy begin from the time that I jumped? Did it start years ago? Was it only activated cuz I died? What if I hadn't died? Would it have vanished?"


"Those are all difficult questions to answer."


That was all he said. He just sat there looking around while Buffy burned holes into his head and said nothing else for a full two minutes.


"That’s all you're gonna say? What does all of that mean?" she demanded.


"I told you, its, dif-"


"Yeah yeah. Difficult. Whatever. Break it down for me," She cut him off rudely, earning another glare from Joyce.


Whistler gave the obligatory exasperated sigh, like she was putting him out, and knowing full well, that he'd have to tell regardless. He wasn't exactly thrilled with losing certain bits that would certainly get lost if he went against the Head Honchos. "It means, kiddo, that it wasn't activated in the sense of us knowing about it until you died. But it was already set in motion before you died. So that means that some events in your life were foretold. We just didn't know they were foretold. Till now." He placed his hat back on his head, "You gotta understand. This has totally thrown Them for a loop. We didn't know, and it involved our Slayer. And others. And its not just one isolated event. It’s a whole movie marathon of events. The minute the first event took place, there was no going back. It had already started. And They didn't have a clue. This is big."


Buffy totally disregarded the hugeness of the situation and responded with, "So at some point in my life, I did something, or something did m- er, o-or something happened to me, and it was the actual beginning, beginning of this whole thing?"


He simply nodded.


"So, what was it? Did I wear a certain outfit one day instead of another? Did I go Bronzing one night when I shoulda stayed home? What happened?" she asked trying to lessen the enormity of her current predicament.


"Uh-uh. That’s one of those things you're gonna have to figure out on your own. Or with the help of your buds. I can't help you," he said with finality. "Plus, it would take all the fun out."


Buffy let loose a growl that couldn't possibly have been human, "UGH! You're such an ass!"


"Buffy! Language!" her mother admonished. She looked at her mother and mouthed 'Sorry.'


"Well. Its not that I won't tell you. Its more like can't tell you. Like I said, it’s a sequence of events. Meaning, more than one, and they must take place at certain times. And besides, I don't know what the whole prophecy is. You and your pals get to figure that one out." Whistler tried to placate her, but she could tell he didn't feel guilty in the slightest.


She nodded, "Okay, so me and the guys make with the research, or, they make with the research. And I make with the waiting. That’s the norm. Do we at least get a hint as to where to look for this stuff?"


"The only thing I can tell ya’ is look for stuff with the chosen twice returned and the child twice reverted."


Buffy took on the very comfortable expression of confusion, "Huh? I get the 'Chosen' bit, but what’s a child gotta do with it? And what is twice reverted?"


Whistler shrugged, looking out across the field, "That’s what you gotta figure out. You're not alone in this one....You also need to figure out what else is supposed to happen. What else has been foretold?"


She looked at him in horror, "Please tell me I don't have to die again. I'm not even over this one yet."


He chuckled at her, "No, no. Nothing like that this time. You might even call this one a reward."


Buffy looked at him skeptically, then to her mother, then back to him, "Really? You mean someone is actually paying attention to what I've been doing? And I'm getting something for it?"


Nodding his head, Whistler answered, "Yeah. Think, part reward, part gift with purchase."


"Okay," she nodded also, and then stopped herself, "huh?"


"Well, you know how your mom said that you'd still be a Slayer, but not?" he asked, waiting on her acknowledgement before going on.


"Yeah," she confirmed, "So?"


"You'll still have your Slayer powers, but you will become more than a Slayer. And all that comes with that...." he trailed off. "So it’s essentially a reward and a gift with purchase at the same time. You're being rewarded for being the best Slayer, and you're getting something else too."


"But I didn't buy anything," she argued.


"Sure you did," Whistler countered. "You bought this opportunity with your life. Hence the being here."


"Whatever," she huffed. "So basically in normal people speak, I'm getting a promotion and an additional bonus?"


Buffy looked at him and he gestured with his hands, palm up, "Yeah, pretty much."


She shot him an aggravated look, "Well, why didn't you just say that then? Geeze. Ya’ gotta go around making stuff all kinda difficult."


Whistler looked to Joyce, "Was she always like this? Or is she just this whiney with me?"


Joyce shook her head, "Oh no. She's always been like this. Can be rather grating can't it?" she asked conspiratorially.


"MOM!" Buffy shrieked, running over to drag her mother to her side. "I say again: you're supposed to be on my side," pointing to herself, "not his!" jerking her thumb in Whistler's direction.


Joyce couldn't help but laugh, "Oh honey, I'm sorry, but he's got a point." Thinking to herself for a second she turned back to her daughter, "You must've gotten that particular trait from your father also."


Buffy sprouted an almost believable pout and whined, "But you can't agree with him over me. It’s not fair!"


"Oh yeah? How's that then?" her mother asked intrigued.


While searching for an answer, Buffy looked everywhere but at her mother. "Um. Well. Cuz, he's weird. A-and he dresses funny. -OH! And, he's a demon!" she answered triumphantly. Only seconds later she added, "And because I'm your daughter."


Whistler looked affronted, "Hey! Just because I'm a demon doesn't make me evil, sweet cheeks."


She rolled her eyes at him and gave the standard response. "Whatever."


He perked up after that and adopted a knowing smirk, "We need to discuss that subject before you leave anyway."


"What subject?"


He wiggled his fingers in front of the both of them, moving them back and forth, "That whole: demon = evil; human = good; white and black thing you got goin' on."


Buffy crossed her arms across her chest, "What about it? That’s the way it is."

He slowly shook his head, "Not always."


She tilted her head to the side, "Well, Mr. All-Knowing Guy, enlighten me."


He wasn't threatened, "There is Angel..."

"Angel has a soul," Buffy interrupted, not impressed. "Without it, he's just as evil as any other demon. Well, maybe even more evil, on the evil scale."

Whistler nodded in agreement. "But speaking of vampires without souls, that bring us to..."

"Spike," Buffy said quietly, her eyes downcast as memories of their last weapon recon at her house burst into her mind. The knowledge that she could trust him to protect Dawn no matter what still fresh and raw.

"Bingo."

Something about the demon's smug tone grated on Buffy nerves, and she threw up her usual defenses when it came to the vampire. "It's just the chip, he can't hurt anybody."

At the unconvinced looks she was receiving, Buffy added, "And because he thinks he's in love with me." She looked back at her mother with a few tears brimming. "And that’s the thing mom. If he can change, if he can love, then why couldn't Angel? He hated me without a soul."

Joyce knew there was no easy or right answer to give her daughter concerning the whole Angel/Angelus situation. "I don't know honey. Maybe Spike's just different," she offered with a shrug.

"Yea kid," Whistler agreed. "You can't really compare anyone to Angelus. He's a demon in his own category."

Buffy sniffled a little and wiped at her nose with the back of her hand, "Well, that may be true, but it still makes it harder to believe that a soulless demon can change, or feel, or laugh in a non-sinister way, or do anything really, other than killing."

"Buffy, you can't let that one experience dictate how you feel about Spike," Joyce admonished.

"Mom! That’s a pretty big, important experience in my life. I can't just forget it happened." Buffy was unable to keep the 'are you crazy' tone from her voice.

"No, I'm not saying that. Of course it was big. It was your first love. And it ended badly," she lifted her hand to Buffy's face and moved an errant piece of hair, "But Spike isn't Angel. And nobody else is either. There's only one of him."

Whistler took that moment to try and lessen the amount of tension in the air, "And hey! Look at me. I'm a demon and I'm not evil."

Buffy glared at him but it held no venom, "You're evil simply based on the fact that you expose us to your horrible fashion sense."

"Hey!"

She chuckled and turned back to her mother quickly sobering, and in a much quieter voice she spoke again, "Mom...." she trailed off hesitantly, ducking her head. Joyce put a finger under her chin and lifted her face to that their eyes could meet again. At the curious look her mother gave her Buffy quickly looked away, then back, and Joyce noticed she had a few tears in her eyes again.

"What is it Buffy?"

Buffy looked down at her hands, as if unsure how to continue. "Mom, if all that stuff was that bad just cuz it was Angel, well, what does that say about the great love of my life? Even if he is the evilest of the evil, if he loved me enough, wouldn't he be able to change too? To feel? To laugh in a non-sinister way?"
Her mother gave her a one shouldered shrug, "Maybe he wasn't the great love of your life?"

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