[Reviews - 18]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2119 times

- Text Size +




Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry for the delay on this one. Not only am I closing in on finals but when I first read this I realized something. i completely hated the dialogue. So, Had to do a little adding and a little deleting. Hopefully it reads well. Enjoy.
Like Old Times

The dust was thick in the air as the four warriors turned, punched, kicked and staked their way through the fight. Fists flew into faces; bodies were thrown around, seeming to bounce off the walls encasing the slick brick arena for the battle as it raged.

They gained ground slowly, the numbers of their enemies' troupe dwindling. Before long, all that was left were 'one-on-one' fights.

Spike spun and kicked the female backwards through the dusty atmosphere. Her body cleared a line of sight through the remains of the slain that he followed with a stake at the ready.

Sam was in full force as well, letting out short yells as she punched the last of her adversaries. She moved in for the kill.

Ashton's moves were all smooth and graceful; each punch was followed through with a kick. As though he was involved with a choreographed ballet instead of a fight to the death.

Buffy kicked sharply, disabling her opponent with the sheer force of her small feet. He pulled back to punch her, giving her the perfect moment to dust him. She watched him dissolve then turned to see Spike brushing off a sleeve, Sam sliding a stake in her waistband and Ashton staring back and forth between Spike and herself, looking as though he was solving a puzzle.

The former vampire understood the confusion of the current one. "'S'alright, mate. She's a Slayer."

The long haired vampire whipped his head around. "And yourself?"

Buffy took a step forward. "That's a little more complicated."

"How can you be a Slayer? There is but one." Samantha the Vampire Slayer asked with seriousness.

"If I had a nickel..." Buffy shook her head at her mild amusement, then took a deep breath before looking back at the girl she'd first met as an older woman, 60 years from now.

She was young, no gray interrupted the perfect black of her hair, no wrinkles marred her skin, and she moved with the agility Buffy recognized in herself. But the eyes, they were somehow different. Full of youth, but a special wisdom that Buffy was only coming to understand. It was all something special that Sam would have even in her 80's.

Sam tried to take in the newcomers. The girl was American like herself, a rarity in London, but the man was most definitely English. "Ashton, I don't understand. Have you heard of two Slayers being called before?" She turned accusingly.

The large vampire shook his head. "Never in my time."

"Won't be happenin' for awhile," Spike said before walking to Buffy. "You alright?"

Buffy nodded. "You?"

"Course. Few vampires, tossed into the Twilight Zone, I'm just grand," he said, giving her a cocky smile.

"Good," was her response along with a sideways smile before addressing the others. "Look, I know this is going to sound completely crazy, but I am a Slayer. Just like you."

"Not just like-" Spike began but received an elbow to the ribs and was silent.

Buffy continued while the raven haired couple gave them curious looks. "Normally, there is only one... Slayer, I mean, but Spike and I aren't really from... now."

"Now?" Ashton looked them over again. Their clothing was odd. Hers seemed too tight, and he wasn't sure if he'd seen that style before.

Sam noticed the same thing. The two people matched each other but nothing else.

Spike had been quieted, but Buffy was having a little trouble coming up with an explanation, so he began with the one thing any Slayer would understand. "There were vampires." He had Sam's attention immediately. "They set out to change things in the past. Our past," he said, nodding at Buffy while he spoke. "So they opened a… a doorway of sorts to here and now, to make sure some events don't happen."

"Or that one does happen," Buffy interrupted. "Remember, those vampires have that crystal now." She had honed in onto the word : ‘vampires’ and clung to what had happened, where they were… and making thing right.

"Right," Spike agreed. "We'll need to find it an' soon."

At first, Sam stood with Ashton a few inches away, but instinctively she reached out for his hand and found it waiting. "This is your past?"

"Well not mine, not personally. I mean, if you're the Slayer... then I'm not even born yet," Buffy rattled off more to herself than the woman in front of her. "What year is it anyway?"

"Not even born?" Sam looked closer at Buffy then turned to Spike. "You two haven't been born yet?"

"She didn't say that," Spike answered.

Ashton looked him over. "You are a vampire, then. I sensed… something."

"'m as human as she is." Spike motioned towards Buffy.

Ashton nodded slowly, still not understanding fully, but his years had led him to accept that he would not fully understand it all. Especially when his heightened senses told him the man in front of him was no normal man, and the woman was no average Slayer.

He may not understand, not at this moment anyway, but he might come to in time.

"Samantha, I believe they can be trusted. For now," Ashton offered.

"Gee. Thanks." Buffy rolled her eyes.

Sam had been trained from birth and understood that the unexplainable usually came with an explanation, just not one most accepted easily. Magic was evil, and vampires were myth. So most humans were lead to believe. But as the Slayer, she knew magic was often good, and vampires were more real than could be imagined.

Time travel, although a new magic to her, was in books. Her Watcher had encouraged her to read both classic and modern literature to build her imagination. He believed it was a powerful ally to a slayer in many situations. And although until this moment she only believed time travel to be myth, she had the imagination and open-mindedness to recognize conditions that could easily prove it as fact.

"I need to get back," Sam announced. "Do you have a place to stay?" she asked Buffy.

"I don't even have a change of underwear," Buffy said, then was embarrassed. "I mean, well, we weren't exactly planning on coming."

"If you like, you may stay with me tonight. Possibly we can find out who is after this crystal." Sam still looked at Buffy, unsure, but it was not everyday she would have the chance to meet one of her own.

"What about Spike?"

"Of course. You are both welcome. It's a small flat, though."

"No worries, pet. I can sleep on the floor. Slept on worse."

"You can say that again," Buffy quipped.

"Come then. The sun will be up soon." Sam walked to the exit of the alley.

"What about Ashton?" Buffy asked and turned to where the vampire had been. "Where'd he go?"

Sam turned back. "He's respecting my wishes," she looked at the ground and continued walking, "as best he can."

Buffy looked at Spike, then to the now sullen woman leading them towards a place for the night.

A few paces passed and Sam lead them. Buffy turned to Spike. "I think I know what's going on, Spike."

"Shhh...Wait till she's settled in, sleepin'." His voice was beyond the silence for human ears. “No interruptions.” He let his lashes fall in a teasing wink as she grinned and nodded, agreeing. They followed Sam out of the alley into a war-struck London.

~~`~~

Three teens walked through Sunnydale loaded down with luggage of all types. From the cemetery they had gone to Buffy Summers' home. Strangely enough, it was a short distance. On further inspection they noted her home was close to eight of the twelve graveyards used in Sunnydale.

Unfortunately, there was no answer at the door, although they did hear the phone ringing inside.

Their next stop was The Magic Box. From the stories told by Dawn, it was the second place they would meet up at in a crisis, but again, there was no life inside but a ringing phone.

According to the addresses, Xander's and Anya's apartment was next.

"These bags are getting heavy," Christian complained as he adjusted the strap on his pack for the tenth time.

"Really? I'm not tired at all," Michelle said happily. Both young men stopped and glared at her. "Oh, right." She'd forgotten her extra strength and stamina for a moment. "Sorry."

Richard started to smile, followed by Christian, and then the two men snickered.

Michelle blushed, realizing how odd it was that she'd forgotten.

"Come on. They are bound to be at one of these addresses. It's just the matter of which one," Richard said, and they continued down another street.

~~`~~

Giles sat in his office and cradled the receiver once again. He'd called the Summers home at least twenty times and the shop a good ten. No answers. He'd yet to hear from the children or any of the Sunnydale residents. And the Harris’s answering machine only clicked and beeped twice before shutting off. No message taken.

Quite frankly he was becoming quite agitated. Which meant he wasted 3 very refined shots of Scotch.

Oh Blasted!

"Blasted!" He cradled his forehead in his hands. Waiting, not knowing. He usually dealt with these things much better.

~~`~~

Buffy studied the buildings, trying to remember if any were familiar since she'd been here sixty years in the future. It was almost ghastly. As if you could see people walking out of the skeletal remains of buildings lining so many streets.

A few were still standing proud,. They were full of cement and mortar.

The Slayer was so enamored with these people. A hardship. Such a simple concept to scholars and idiots. Not to those who have had to deal . To live. Experience life as a fight toward a greatness, no matter how you wished to be anything but ‘great‘ or ‘special‘, because let‘s face it. That always ends badly.

Stepping into this place, she knew. These people held all hope to the future that she, and others, other invisible warriors, would provide. A crawling sensation dug into her skin and she squeezed her eyes shut as a terrible rumbling shook every bit of earth around.

The sky was grey, the black instant.

I had no idea. None. What happened??

Life was jumbled. Facts, jumbled.


She saw the people. Some scampering. She didn’t realize she was being drug past spot lights and patrols. Buffy was still processing. But her instincts were high. She ducked lights and enjoyed shadow, It worked.

But as they walked down streets and turned corners, she also saw many building that were struck down during bombings. The crumpled and ragged edges of fallen walls seemed out of place against the sky.

"The Blitz," she whispered, a fragment of a history class coming back to her. Debris was piled as out of the way as possible. She could make out oddly shaped lumps of broken brick and rock set against alcoves or inside the buildings themselves.

"What's that, luv?" Spike looked at her, watched her eyes move back and forth as she took in the ruins of several buildings.

"I remember this from class. The Blitz, right?" she asked.

Spike nodded. "S'right. That's the big one what did most of this."

Then they turned another corner, and the street seemed untouched. Clean and kept, like a new world. Flowers bloomed and steps were swept clean while families ate there meals and someone played a record in the distance.

As they continued they did not take notice of the others walking along the street. Many out at this hour were not the type you stopped and had discussions with.

One man, dressed in a long jacket with dark slacks poking out underneath stood quietly off to the side. Once the three reached the building converted into flats after so many had lost their homes.

He noted the newcomers and their ability to fight. More would have to be seen before he could decide what to note in the log he kept. As a rule, entries in one's Diary needed to be complete and accurate. He had kept his personal logs as such. He would have to wait until he had more information.

The training Watcher was nearly completed with his studies and would soon be inducted into the secret society, but young Quentin Travers had opted to concentrate on not one, but two specialties.

Although he would be graduating well after his other classmates, some who now had charges of their own, he was sure to one day become Head of the Council. A goal he intended to reach one day.

With practiced silence and stealth, he headed back towards the secret entrance not far from where he stood.

Sam stood aside and let her guests through the door, sans invitation. "I have a little tea left, if you'd like some before sleeping."

Buffy was about to speak, but Spike interrupted. "That's right nice of you, but we're fine."

Sam smiled and nodded as she walked past a partition and she took off her jacket. "Ok. There's a basin by the water pump and towels if you'd like to wash up then," she called from out of sight.

Buffy was yanking on Spike's arm. "Would you let go of me? Why can't I have tea?"

"Rations, woman. They have nothing right now. Even if she's getting extra for helping out a bit with the locals, it's not enough for us to go begging off of her."

Buffy stopped trying to tug away from him, an embarrassed look coming over her face. "Oh, God. I forgot."

"'S'alright. I wasn't even here then… or now, rather. Just came back seeing the damage done, then tried to find the few o' my kind that stayed behind. Never did find a vamp that survived in these parts." A respective tone obvious in his words.

Buffy listened and took off her jacket, laying it over the back of a chair. Then she looked around and decided to hang it on the hook by the door. Spike smiled, thinking she understood. Even though the Slayer of this time had little, it was kept neat.

The flat was nearly empty but for the wood table and chairs, a couch and two tables. There was a small cupboard and a pump for water near a small stove. Woodburning. A lot of this had been scavenged, and he was an expert on that. Items carefully chosen because they could be reassembled to at least moderate use.

The simple wood floor was covered by a few rugs. Some looked newer, making him wonder if the Slayer had a source of income.

Buffy had done the same perusal and ended up in the small kitchenette, or so she assumed it was, and pumped some water into the basin carefully. She grabbed one of the thin, well-used towels and began washing her face when Sam came back in.

"I see you like the rugs?" she asked Spike, who was studying one.

"Yeah. How did you...what I meant was..."

"How did I get them?" Sam asked.

Spike nodded and Buffy dried off her face while she listened.

Sam walked past and sat on the couch facing the small kitchenette. Spike walked to the table and pulled out a char, sitting on it backwards. Buffy neatly folded the towel, letting it
hang over the edge a bit to dry, and sat beside Spike.

The Slayer of her own time, Sam, wondered exactly what was known of this time. "You understand, then, what much of this war is."

Spike nodded emphatically, while Buffy nodded slowly.

"Well, I have... friends. Ones that I have helped, Ashton as well. Some are craftsmen in hiding." She pointed to a rug. "Supplies are hard to come by for them, but when one is finished, I am to keep it for trade. One of these rugs can feed a family for months, more even."

"Tell me, these people, do they know who you are?" Buffy asked.

Sam sat back in her seat. "Do many know who you are?"

"More than should, or so I've been told on numerous occasions." She said half smiling. She recalled Kendra’s first reaction to Buffy having friends, civilians, that not only knew her secret, but helped in the never-ending battle against evil.

Sam nodded. "I find that most people, if they believe in what we fight, figure it out on their own. I suspect they know that I am not fighting the same war but that we are on the same side."

"Would they know who wanted the crystal?" Spike asked.

Sam shook her head. "For that we would need to go to the other underground." She looked back at her visitors. "And you would need a change of clothing."

Spike looked at Buffy, while Buffy looked him over.

"We don't exactly blend in with… well, here," the blonde Slayer decided.

"I have some things Buffy can use, but nothing of Ashton's would ever fit you."

"Reminds me of Peaches, he does. All large and brooding." Spike laughed. Then saw Buffy was less than amused, and sobered quickly. "Right then." He paused and reached inside each of his pockets, trying to find something worth trading. Buffy began to do the same thing.

"Your ring." Sam pointed to Buffy's finger.

Buffy held out her hand. On it were two rings, both from her mother. One, she had received on her thirteenth birthday; another was one she'd gotten for Christmas the year Faith had first come. "I... I can't."

"S'alright. I have these." Spike pulled out a felt bag and reached inside. After a bit of jingling, he pulled out a gold ring lined with tiny diamonds all around. It was a thick men's ring.

"Where did you get that?" Buffy had to ask.

"Had it for years."

She crossed her arms and glowered at him. "I didn't ask you how long you've had it."

Sam watched the two bicker easily with each other.

"Ah, ah, ah, you're forgetting your rules, Slayer." Spike waggled his fingers at her like she was a child.

"Fine," Buffy decided.

Spike handed the ring to the dark haired Slayer. "What you don't use for fetching clothes, use for those families you told us about."

Buffy glared at him.

"What?"

"You have more."

"True, but do you know how long we'll be here? How much of this we may need to survive?"

Again, he was right. "Ok, I got it. I just want to figure this out and get home."

"I know." He could sympathies on every level.

"Don't worry. I'll find out what I can, but I'll need more details about the crystal." Sam explained.

Buffy understood, and they spent some time going over what they could about the crystal. Uses they knew of and the powers it held. Before long, the sun was fully up, and they needed to get some sleep. The rugs provided some comfort, and the few blankets Sam had helped as well.

She had little more to offer; even her own bed was just a pallet on the floor.

Later that day, they would hopefully be on their way to figuring out what to do.

~~`~~

Dawn was asleep, head down on the table as Willow typed away on her laptop. Tara was going over the diaries one last time, just to be sure nothing was overlooked. Anya and Xander were lying on the floor with other books open around them, but they were long gone into the world of the unconscious.

A knock came from their front door.

Tara looked to the door, then to Willow. "Who could that be?"

Willow shrugged. "Would Buffy knock in this situation?"

Tara got up and went to the door as she tossed, "Spike wouldn't." Over her shoulder.

She opened it to see Michelle, Richard and Christian. A sudden look of confusion came to the sweet witch‘s face. "Uh, Willow?"

Michelle smiled. "Hello. Mr. Giles sent us."

Willow came up behind Tara and saw the waiting children. "Michelle! Richard! Christian! What are you doing here, not that you can't visit, but what are you doing here?"

"I believe you may want to ring Mr. Giles. He could explain it." Richard suggested.

Willow blanched. "Oh God! Giles!" She yelped and spun to Tara. "We didn't call Giles and tell him what happened. They need to find the next Slayer, and the funeral... oh Goddess, all we have are ashes." Willow rambled.

"It's ok, honey. Giles will understand." Tara soothed the now frantic redhead, rubbing her back gently.

"Ashes?" the three kids asked in unison.

The ladies looked back, then realized they were in the hall still waiting to be invited. They stepped back to allow the children gain entrance.

Tara waited and realized the children were waiting for the words. "Sorry, we don't actually invite people in."

"Yeah," Willow nodded. "If you can, you know what to do. If you can't, well..."
Richard smiled. "I understand. Quite ingenious. Saves time on disinvites as well."

"Yup," Willow agreed.

"Now, what was that about ashes?" Michelle asked as they entered, luggage and all. The bags were set aside near the coat closet, and the noise of the newcomers slowly roused the sleeping Scoobies. Anya smiled sleepily at the group.

"Xander. Get up." She called gently.

"Faith," Tara began. "She was… burned."

Christian looked back at Richard. "So it was the other one."

Richard nodded. "We need to contact Giles. He'll want to know."

"Michelle?" Dawn asked from the table as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Oh my God! Michelle!" She squealed and jumped out of her seat. "And Richard... and... and Christian, too? Wait, why are you guys here?"

The three looked from each other to the only others fully awake. Anya was currently trying to get Xander to wake up.

"We knew the Slayer had died," Richard said, looking back at Michelle.

"How?" Willow asked.

"Because," Michelle tried her best to hold her head high, "I was next."


Chapter End Notes:
Comming up next... well.. things. :D Thanks so much for the reviews. I'm trying to reply to as many as I can tonight. **Kisses**



You must login (register) to review.