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Looking For Tomorrow

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Summary: *COMPLETE* One is trying to forget their past, the other is searching for theirs. Together, they may be able to face the future.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Marvel Universe > X-Men > Buffy-Centered(Past Donor)polgaraFR182663,22125154130,5488 Jun 0323 Jul 05Yes

Looking For Tomorrow

Looking For Tomorrow

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or X-Men. I do not plan to make any money from this little story.

Spoilers: For Buffy through the end of season seven, although I changed it slightly. Let’s just say that Buffy never went back to the house after she gained the scythe, the rest gets explained in the story. For X-Men the spoilers go through the first movie. Everything I know comes from the movie and what I’ve picked up from fanfiction.

Rated: PG-13 (for the moment, it may change)

I know that the last thing I needed to do was start another story, but this one popped in my head and wouldn’t leave.

This chapter is essentially from Buffy’s point of view.

Chapter One

Gone. They had been gone exactly one year today. And all Buffy wanted to do was drink herself into oblivion so she could forget. The final battle against the first had been brutal. She had been the only one to survive.

The bringers had gotten to every potential, so when Caleb had killed Faith, there had been no one to take her place. Caleb had also killed Giles, who had placed himself between them in an effort to protect the renegade slayer. Buffy inwardly winced as she remembered the look on her mentor’s face as his neck was broken.

Turok-Hans stepped out of the shadows and attacked Dawn, Xander, and Anya from behind. They never stood a chance against them. And Andrew, bless his heart, fought vainly to help them, but he too fell.

That left Willow. Poor, scared Willow. Who wanted so desperately to use her magic to attack, but was afraid to loose herself in it. Her hesitation was her downfall. The bringers took advantage of her momentary pause and rushed at her. There had been too many and she fell beneath them.

This was the scene that Buffy and Spike entered into when they arrived in the basement of the school. Everything seemed to happen at once and they could only stand there in mute horror.

For the first time since she had realized they were going against the first, she was afraid. It’s true that she had felt fear before, the first time she had died, fighting Angelus, and Dawn tied to the top of the tower. But nothing compared to this. She began to think that she wouldn’t be able to stop the apocalypse this time.

“You can do this. I have faith in you. You can grieve for them later, but now you need to fight.”

Hearing Spike’s voice in her ear pulled her out of her fear. Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she gripped the scythe in her hands. She turned to Spike and said, “ready to dance?”

“Always slayer, always.”

The two quickly worked their way towards Caleb, killing anything that moved. They made short work of most of their opponents and soon it was just Buffy, Caleb, Spike and a handful of bringers.

“Take care of priest boy and I’ll do the rest,” Spike called out as he neatly beheaded a bringer.

The slayer turned to the first’s chosen one. He had a wicked smile on his face as he raised the sword in his hand.

“You ready to die bitch?”

“Only if you are,” she retorted as she swung the scythe.

The only sound she could hear was the scythe, the weapon literally sang in the air. She pulled out every move she knew, but he blocked every one. Then suddenly she slipped, and found herself on her knees.

Caleb moved in for the kill. “Say nightie-night.” And he swung the killing blow.

Buffy braced herself for it, but found herself being knocked down. She opened her eyes to see Spike on top of her with Caleb’s sword stuck in his side. She looked up into his clear blue eyes and saw surprise in them.

“Remember that I love you,” he whispered, and then he turned to dust.

She looked up to see Caleb standing above her holding a stake. The slayer suddenly saw red, and she felt a renewed strength seep through her body, as if Spike had transferred all of his power to her.

The slayer knocked the sword to the other side of the room then swept Caleb’s legs out from under him. She took advantage of his momentary incapacitation to grab her scythe and stand. She began to fight him with a fury she never knew she possessed. She had once told Kendra that her anger gave her fire, and she was using it now.

The entire fight for Buffy was a blur then and now. She just went on the offensive and then came to when Caleb was left there in pieces. She then walked over and dropped to her knees in the place where Spike had died.

Buffy didn’t know how long she had sat there in Spike’s ashes. Minutes, hours, or even days. She was having a hard time believing that he was really gone. He had been the only one to refuse to leave her, no matter how hard she had pushed him away.

But now he was gone. Forever.

The tears had finally ended and all that was left was a gaping hole in her heart, where her friends and family had been. She was trying to decide what to do when a familiar figure squatted in front of her.

“Go away, Whistler.”

“I’m afraid I can’t.”

“Fine. Then I’ll leave.” Despite the threat, she couldn’t seem to pull herself away from the carnage around her.

“I’m afraid I have bad news.”

“When do you have anything but?” She asked quietly.

“You’re it. You and Angel. The last two champions.”

“Well good for us,” she said dully.

“Without another slayer to follow you, you have to finish it.”

“I thought I already did,” she said, gesturing to Caleb who laid several feet from her. “He had merged with the first. I killed him. Bye-bye evil.”

“But the demons remain, Buffy.” Whistler said gently.

“I can’t, I’ll die eventually.”

There was a moment of silence before he said, “No. No you won’t.”

Buffy looked up sharply at him, “What do you mean?”

“The spell that brought you back had some side effects. You can no longer die.”

“A cellular tan my ass,” she muttered.

“It also allowed the first to make its move. The Powers said that when the last demon dies you will finally be able to age and die.”

“What if I refuse to play this game anymore?”

“Then you’ll live forever and watch the world become overrun with demons. Only when this world ceases to exist will you die.”

“Way to sugar coat it,” she said sarcastically.

“Honesty is the best policy. The good news is that the hellmouth and the seal are permanently closed. You won’t have to stay here.”

Buffy sighed.

And so she had spent the past year wandering. For the first month, she stayed with Angel and his group. But since he seemed to have L.A. under control, she had left.

That’s how she had ended up in this seedy bar in a small town in Canada. She had walked in and gone straight to the bar, paying little heed to her surroundings. She ordered two beers. She quickly downed the first, and started on the second one at only a slightly more leisurely pace.

She turned around and leaned her back against the bar. It was then that she noticed the large cage in the center of the room and people seating themselves on the stands surrounding it. She finished the second beer and turned back to face the bartender.

After the third beer had been placed in front of her, Buffy asked, “What’s with the cage?”

The man behind the counter shrugged, “Entertainment. Guys fight for money.”

“What guys?”

“Locals, truck drivers, whoever shows up from night to night.” He then turned his attention to another customer.

As Buffy began looking at the patrons of the bar, she realized that she was surrounded by rednecks, complete with flannel, big belt buckles, and boots. She was thankful she had dressed simply that evening in jeans and a baby-tee.

While she was scanning the crowd, she felt a strange pull on her senses. She looked to the door in time to see a strange looking man enter. He was tall with wild hair and a cigar in his mouth. He was simply dressed in a white t-shirt and jeans with an old leather jacket. She got the distinct feeling that he wasn’t a local.

She stretched her senses to see if he was a vampire, but he didn’t feel like one. Still, he didn’t feel like everyone else in the place. She began to wonder if he was a type of demon that could disguise himself like Anya used to.

Buffy flinched at the thought of her friend. She finished the beer in her hand and asked for another.

“Might want to slow down missy. That’s three in fifteen minutes.”

“Trust me, I can hold it. Just give me another.” And it was true. Over the past year she had noticed that she healed even faster than before. While she used to get drunk quite easily, her healing powers now seemed to keep her fairly sober. Which was a real pain in the ass when she wanted to stupefy herself.

She turned back around and watched the strange man walk up to the cage and say something to the man at the door. After a quick conversation, he headed to the door beside the bar, and went inside.

As she mused over who he could be, she noticed the patrons were starting to get restless around the cage. Then the man came back through the doors sans coat. Buffy watched as he easily made his way through the crowd and into the cage.

“Ladies and gentlemen! The return of last night’s champion. The Wolverine!” The announcement was met with a mix of cheers and jeers from the crowd.

Buffy couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes warily scanned the crowd. They stopped briefly on her, before continuing on. She coolly watched the first challenger step into the cage.

She unconsciously leaned forward as the challenger threw a punch that knocked Wolverine over. As the challenger began a quick kick to the stomach, Wolverine grabbed the ankle at the last second and twisted it. The challenger hit the mat and couldn’t get back up.

As the night wore on, challenger after challenger fell. Buffy found herself intrigued by the man fighting. Something inside her said that the man was holding back, that he was afraid of truly hurting those he was fighting. It made her wonder why he was even doing it.

Guiltily she noticed how his clothes clung nicely to his well-muscled body. She felt stirrings inside her that she hadn’t felt since before Spike had died. Tears welled up momentarily at the thought of him, but she suppressed them. She felt intense guilt for even looking at another man.

She had to stifle a groan when Wolverine took off his shirt. She could now see the muscles ripple under his skin. The blond couldn’t believe that she was finding another man so attractive this quickly after Spike. True he had been dead for a year, but she felt as if she was betraying his memory.

To stop torturing herself, she turned away from the fight and back to the bar. Now more than ever, she wanted to forget the past. Deciding the beer wasn’t going to be strong enough, she moved on to something more potent. The bartender gave her glass after glass of the strongest thing he had, Turkey 101.

The rest of the night passed quickly as she finally succeeded in achieving at least a light state of drunkenness. She was finally starting to understand why Spike went through so many bottles of liquor to wallow in his misery. The bartender kept shaking his head in amazement every time she ordered another.

The place had mostly cleared out, when Wolverine sat down a couple of stools away from her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw two vampires she was going to have to take care of shortly.

She sighed softly and ordered one last beer. She slowly nursed it as she felt her body sober up.

“You need me to call a cab for you missy?” The bartender asked.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“You sure? You drank enough to sink a fleet of battleships.”

“I’m fine. Besides I walked here from the motel down the road.”

He just shook his head, and went back to cleaning glasses. She could feel Wolverine’s eyes on her, but she refused to look at him.

Finally Buffy couldn’t take it any longer. “You gonna say anything, or just stare?” She asked, keeping her gaze firmly forward.

If he was surprised by the bluntness of the question, he didn’t show it. “Not from around here, are you?”

She let out an indelicate snort. “What gave it away? My fashion sense?”

She heard a low rumble from him, in what she assumed to be laughter. “Maybe.”

The two vampires she had been keeping an eye on were ostensibly helping a passed out friend home. She quickly finished her beer and left a nice tip for the bartender. “As much fun as this conversation is, duty calls.” She said quickly, then followed the vampires out the door.

The blond rolled her eyes as she saw them lean in for a bite. The idiots didn’t even have enough sense to find an alley to kill their prey. No, out in the open where everyone could see them.

“Ahh, how sweet. You finally learned to share.”

The smaller one looked up in surprise, demon visage still forward. “Huh?”

Great, even bigger idiots then she had previously thought. Oh well, she really wasn’t in the mood for witty repartee.

“You might want to leave dinner alone, and concentrate on me.”

“Why?” Asked the other one. “Who do you think you are? The slayer?”

“The one and only.”

The little one rushed forward and quickly found himself face down on the ground.

The bigger one snarled and dropped their meal. “Die slayer.” He swung and Buffy ducked.

“Been there,” she answered as she punched him in the face. “Done that,” as she kicked him in the stomach, then staked the one who tried to sneak up behind her. “Wish I could,” she whispered as she drove the stake through his back into his heart.

As the dust settled she knelt to check the man laying on the ground. They hadn’t gotten a bite yet, so he was merely passed out. She was starting to stand to go back into the bar and get the bartender’s help when she heard a voice behind her.

“Quite a show. Do all your opponents turn to dust?” Wolverine asked.

“Usually,” she said warily. “Think you can help this guy home?”

“Yeah. How long have you been fighting?”

“Too long,” the blond said wearily. “But I could give you a run for your money.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Wasn’t my goal this evening,” she replied as she turned away and started down the street. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“What’s your name?” He called out.

The answer came back on the breeze, “The slayer.”
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