Part 2

~~~~Part 2~~~~


With a groan that sounded suspiciously like a zombie rising from the dead, Xander’s body forced him awake. His eyes opened to see his blurry room, and he had the wherewithal to check his alarm clock. He jerked upright with haste when he found it showed 11:48, the room coming into focus as his mind kicked into fully awake mode, only to slow down again when he realized hurrying didn’t matter any longer. He was so late already that the two minutes he could get to school quicker made no difference at all.

After pulling his legs and feet out of bed and setting them down on the floor he looked around. The clothes on the floor were not for this day, he had to put on clean ones. He looked over at the clothes closet, some three meters away, and he spent a minute contemplating if it was worth getting up to get dressed. It was the sword, the very real sword, lying on the chair where he had placed it the night before that prompted him to get up and get dressed. He had to get that thing to Giles, Buffy and Willow and ask especially the first what it meant. It was scary to think of all the possibilities. If only a spirit, thus dead person, could wield such a sword, did that mean he was some form of zombie now? Or heaven forbid, some form of vampire? He couldn’t be a vampire, he just couldn’t be.

Having finished dressing, he took the sword and grimaced. How the hell could he manage to bring it along without anyone noticing? Granted, the town was terrible when it came to noticing the supernatural, but even though the sword came into existence through magic, it really was just a sword, or at least looked like it. He looked at the belt that the sheath was attached to, and got an idea. After some effort he managed to fit it around his torso, from right shoulder to left side and the sword was on his back. With some more effort he managed to put the sword low enough, that if he put his longest coat over it, and pulled up the collar it was reasonably concealed. Thus, he was off to school . . . and his destiny.

*****

Buffy and Willow were slowly walking from their class towards the library, having pulled some snacks from the vending machine. This morning Giles had told them he wanted a report of last night during lunch, since it was too late to do it before school. Apparently Angel had showed up once or twice in the library the night before while he’d been running around trying to find Buffy, and thus had a reasonable idea on what had happened.

“You don’t think something bad happened to Xander, right? I mean he hasn’t been to school all morning,” Willow questioned her best friend, worried.

“Nah,” Buffy answered, waving the idea away, “I’m the Slayer and after last night I was wiped. Did I really get my neck, or rather Amanda’s neck broken and came back from the dead?”

“Uhm, yeah,” Willow said, still being a little shook up. It had slammed home just how vulnerable Buffy really was: if it wasn’t being outnumbered it’d be magic that could do her in.

“Anyway, Amanda wasn’t tossing around magic and moving so fast to make the Flash jealous, and Xander doesn’t have a Slayer’s constitution. You saw how exhausted he was, I think he walked the kids home on pure determination. Trust me, Will, he just slept through his alarm clock if he even had the mind to set it. He’ll be here, eventually, even if it is tomorrow,” Buffy reassured her redheaded friend, being certain she was right, since she was still a little tired even now, and as she had said, she was the Slayer. Willow nodded, reassured as they reached the library doors.

“Hey, guys,” a weak voice called, and they turned around, seeing Xander slowly come toward them. He was obviously still not entirely refreshed.

“See,” Buffy told Willow, and she nodded again, blushing lightly as she remembered what Xander had seen her in the night before.

As Xander reached them, they greeted their friend back. “What’s with the long coat?” Buffy asked him casually.

“In the library,” he said, mindful of the other students around. Buffy and Willow nodded and they entered said library.

“I see you’ve decided to grace us with your presence, Xander,” Giles commented as the trio walked into his sanctuary. The Brit walked around the counter and stood in front of it, looking at them.

“It’s not his fault, last night exhausted him,” Buffy commented in a lightly sour tone.

“Yeah, it was the spell,” Willow added for good measure, looking at the Brit.

“I meant no offense,” Giles said, raising his hands as a symbol of his innocence. “Will you three please sit down, so we can discuss last night?”

After a moment Buffy and Willow gave in and walked onward to the table center stage. Xander hesitated, waiting a little. As his two friends were seating, and Giles stood near the table, he walked forward and said, “Yeah, about last night.” Walking forward he took off his coat and tossed it gently onto the counter with his right hand. In doing so, he revealed the sword, it’s scabbard sticking out over his shoulder. He grabbed the hilt and pulled it forth, saying, “It didn’t turn back into plastic.” While presenting the unsheathed sword with his right hand, he started undoing the belt holding the sheath with his left.

“Most intriguing,” Giles said, studying the sword as Xander came closer holding out the katana.

“Cool,” Buffy said, her eyes sparkling as she took in the weapon and its expert craftsmanship. As the Slayer, she had more than a little eye and appreciation for weapons that could cut vampires and demons down to size, and with the expert knowledge of swords that any Immortal had by necessity added to her brain, she was more than a little excited at the sparkly new toy . . . er, weapon.

Willow just looked with wide eyes, her mind grinding through the possibilities.

“May I?” Giles asked, reaching out with both hands. Xander shrugged and placed the weapon in Giles’ outstretched hands. Giles examined it, and twisted it back and forth, testing the weight and balance. “It is a magnificent blade, what were you dressed as again?” he asked, prompting Buffy to stand up and excitedly take the sword from him to do her own examination.

“A Death God,” Xander supplied nervously, reminding himself of his train of thought earlier this morning.

“And that would be?” Giles prompted impeccably, lightly keeping an eye on Buffy turning the sword this way and that, and making a few practice swipes, thrusts and slices while talking with Xander.

“A . . .” Xander frowned, trying to come up with the best explanation, “A Death God is kind of a spirit guardian of a realm of the dead. They guide lost souls to the afterlife and destroy evil spirits. Sort of a Japanese Grim Reaper, I guess.”

“Nice sword,” Buffy said with a smile.

“Xander’s sword,” Willow pointed out, and Buffy gave a little pout at her best friend, but then handed it back to him, making Giles frown. Willow continued, “It’s a Spirit Slayer, or at least it was last night.” Willow suspected it still was, and explained further, “It’s a weapon made to kill spirits and cut spiritual energy, and is also used in the method to guide the souls to heaven. It’s actually the manifestation of a part of the Death God’s soul.”

“Interesting indeed,” Giles said, looking at Xander holding the blade a little awkwardly. “I’m not sure if such a deadly weapon should be in the hands of someone so inexperienced at handling it, Xander, nor should it be carried around like you did. I think it is best if we give it a place with the other weapons here – should you wish to wield it, you must train in the art of sword fighting.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Buffy said, already picturing herself getting to take it out on patrols. She favored stakes, but then the weapons kept here in the library were crude and purely functional – she more than gladly would make an exception for a beauty like Xander’s new katana.

“Ah,” Xander just said, not sure.

“Also, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like the opportunity to examine it, Xander,” Giles said matter-of-factly, looking directly at him and the sword. “It would be good to know how much of this sword is a sword, and how much of whatever mystical properties a ‘Spirit Slayer’ possesses has remained. Would you mind?”

Xander frowned. He had to admit, keeping the sword here did seem logical; he’d hate to think what his father would do if he ever caught him trying to sneak the katana into or out of the house. And it seemed to him Giles was all but offering to train him, didn’t it? It would also be good to know if the weapon was still mystical, wasn’t it? Yet, it didn’t feel entirely right to just hand over the sword entirely. “Uh, okay,” Xander finally decided and sheathed the sword, handing the whole thing to Giles.

“Thank you,” Giles said as he took the sword and turned around toward the counter and his office behind it. As he walked toward it, he spoke, “There are some recollections of magical and mystical weapons in the annals. Some are known to be true, others just myth and legend. It will be fascinating to find out if, and how this one stands up-” Giles stopped in his tracks and speech as the sword just disappeared from his grasp.

“Whoa!” Buffy commented, while Xander and Willow looked at the event with wide eyes. “What happened!?”

Giles reset his glasses as he turned back around to the trio. “Curious, it seems to have just taken longer for the spell to wear off from the sword,” Giles speculated quite perplexed.

“That’s weird,” Buffy said, and Willow looked at Xander with a frown. The boy simply looked with large eyes, equally unable to understand what happened. Somehow though, he wondered if the spell taking longer to wear off was what really happened.

Giles turned back to his charges, and said, “Well, I suppose we can get on with reporting on last night. Xander, you changed physically?”

“Uh,” Xander said, seeing as ‘he’d’ been inside the body, there wasn’t really a way to tell.

“Yes,” Willow supplied with certainty. “Both of them did, Xander got a little shorter and turned into this Byakuya, Buffy was Amanda, completely. Just like the demons all the kids turned into.” Then she muttered under her breath, “Right down to the magnificent boobs.”

“That is most interesting,” Giles commented, and spent a moment going over something in his mind. “Xander, did anything else remain of the possession other than the sword?”

“Well, I’ve got some vague personal memories, and last night is mostly vague, but some of the skills and knowledge are pretty clear, I believe. I’m pretty certain I can speak Spanish, German and Japanese pretty well. Especially Japanese because that was his native language,” Xander muttered, looking up to get his brain to access as much of the information.

“Xander-kun,” Buffy spoke up with a grin – Amanda spent quite some time in Japan. Willow watched with slightly jealous frown, while Giles just looked astonished as Buffy continued what they could only hear as gibberish, but contained enough rhythm to know it was a language – obviously Japanese. Xander answered her in the same gibberish, two more sentences, one by each of the friends, of gibberish followed, before Buffy shifted back to English. “Can you read and write it too?” she asked excitedly.

Xander looked up again, no doubt, Willow realized, trying out the symbols and how to write them in his head. “Yeah, yeah, I think so,” Xander answered.

“Cool! Me too!” Buffy said with an evil grin.

“That is quite remarkable,” Giles started, wanting to take off his glasses to put one of its paws in his mouth allowing to think.

Buffy stopped him though, when she continued, “This is going to take cheating on tests to a whole new level!”

Xander grinned cautiously, while Willow sighed, and Giles said, “What!?”

“Think of it!” Buffy continued with a huge grin, “Put some meaningless doodles on a paper, and some Japanese symbols in between, no teacher’ll be the wiser!”

“Buffy, I must protest,” Giles started greatly concerned, “Academic achievements can not be gained by cheating, nor would anyone want to.”

Willow sighed again, “Don’t worry, Giles. You two aren’t smart enough to cheat off of each other.”

Giles nodded, and Buffy went, “Ah, dang it!” Giles’ eyes widened at Buffy thought out loud pensively, “There’s got to be a way around that. Xan, maybe we should teach Willow?” Willow perked up at that, she was always in to learn more.

“Aw, I kinda like it that we know something she doesn’t,” Xander offered to that suggestion, making Willow glare at him.

“Yeah, that is fun, isn’t it?” Buffy agreed with a nod, and Willow added her to the glare.

Giles groaned, and took his glasses off, then started pinching the bridge of his nose to alleviate the head ache. “How this world is still spinning is beyond me,” he grumbled under his breath, as Buffy continued her cheating schemes using Japanese.

*****

Xander walked back into his bedroom. School was over, and the group had remained at the library to test out more what they all kept from the possession. Super speedy healing, and thus immortality, hadn’t been part of it. A small cut to her finger hadn’t healed up in front of everyone’s eyes, much to Buffy’s disappointment. After that, they had done their homework in the library, and Buffy had started her daily training. Xander had gotten a pizza that the four of them had shared after Buffy’s training. Now he was back, having maneuvered around his drunk of a father.

He sat down on his bed and laid back. The disappeared sword still bothered him. He had put on a smile and continued onward in the library after it did its disappearing act, but it had bothered him nonetheless. On the one hand, he was rather glad the sword was gone, so he didn’t have to worry about any nasty surprises. On the other, there was some disappointment, but most importantly an unease, something didn’t seem entirely right.

It didn’t really matter, he told himself. He closed his eyes for a moment; he was still a little tired. He was confident he’d be at 100% if he got a good night’s rest by morning, but now he was still a little wiped from what the possession had put his body through.

Freezing cold.

Xander’s eyes shot open and he looked up at black clouds, or perhaps even smoke. He jerked up right, and took in the scenery in disbelief as he stood up. Lightning flashed up ahead, its thunder being drowned out by a much bigger thunder. Up above, no more than some thirty odd meters or so, black soot and ash shot upward with an explosion, fiery orange lava spurting upward. Xander himself stood on a ledge covered in freezing snow, and some twenty meters to his left a glowing river of lava rapidly flowed down the mountain. Not much further to his right, there was another. Lightning flashed again, and a small tornado settled down beyond the river of lava and twisted toward it, freezing a boulder solid. It reached the river of lava and attempted to freeze it similarly. Not surprisingly to anyone with a little knowledge of physics, a devastating explosion followed, ending the twister. Lava sprang up with the explosion spraying about in a spherical fashion, and as it landed on the snow and instantly vaporized it, more explosions of water vapor followed. Lightning and thunder flashed again.

“Comfy, don’t you agree?” a voice sounded, and Xander whirled around, giving him the view of the fire and ice volcanic hellhole on that side of him. A figure stood there, a figure that seemed to be made of fire, or lava, or perhaps even orange plasma. Vague features of a face were visible where it should be, except for the eyes, they were anything but vague. Twin cool blue orbs, that seemed like ice, served as the being’s eyes, and a little bit of freezing water vapor floated away from them. The final two things that Xander could see were two tails, but being behind the body he couldn’t make out any details, except that they seemed to be moving of their own accord.

As lightning once more flashed and thundered overhead, Xander asked, “Who are you?”

The being grimaced, and became obviously more angry. The tails suddenly snapping forth at waist-height attested to that as well; one was revealed to be of the fiery plasma, and had a narrow snake’s head, with eyes, tongue and fangs of ice, the other in contrast was made of ice, had an hyena’s head, with eyes of fire. The snake’s head hissed at Xander’, while the hyena barked and then growled. “You know who and what I am,” they said dangerously.

Xander considered for a moment; it couldn’t be. It would also mean his sword wasn’t gone yet. “But you can’t be; it should take years, no decades before a Death God gets to meet the Spirit Slayer in his mind,” Xander finally dared to observe, some, quite a lot actually, of Kuchiki Byakuya’s knowledge of Death Gods and their weapons filtering back to the fore of his mind. Perhaps he had actually been repressing it for some reason.

The tails returned back to behind the man, and then seemed to be moving somewhat of their own accord, not mention snapping at each other. “Yeah, well, they didn’t have a captain-level Death God possess them and make contact with their Spirit Slayers for them, did they?” asked the being with a flat grin. “Oh, by the way, welcome to our mindscape.”

All of a sudden the avatar of Xander’s Spirit Slayer moved; practically flashed across the distance. Before Xander could do anything but raise his eyelids the being’s fist slammed into his chin, and he was launched backward. Pain blossomed throughout his jaw, and he heard a painful groan, that after a few moments of catching up he realized to be his own. He slammed painfully to the cold ground, and felt heat from the close by lava assault the top of his head. He had no chance to do anything about it though, as the being landed on him, and slammed another fist into his face, and another and another as it yelled, “You, were, going, to, give me, to the, Watcher! A, piece of, your very soul, to examine! Willow, even reminded, you! What, friggin’, experiments, did, you think, he was, going, to do, you bastard!? On ME! Even if, he’s trustworthy, can you, trust, all the watchers, you piece of shit!?”

Xander’s face was a bruised mess by now, and Xander felt he’d gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson having sledge hammers for hands. “Stop it!” he called partially afraid and fully hurting, aware of the two animal tails snapping at him from next to the avatar’s waist.

“Fuck you!” the embodiment of Xander’s blade called back, and continued his abuse.

“STOP IT!” Xander snarled, suddenly angry and lashed out with his fist – and disappeared into the fiery face without hitting the avatar. Xander was only momentarily astonished, but then pulled the fist back and with a growl slammed both hands up, this time instinctively with something mental, something more than just a movement of his arm. The hands hit this time, and the avatar was launched off of him. The avatar twisted in the air and landed on his feet, and Xander got up. “YOU DON’T HIT ME!” he yelled at the fire and ice being.

The avatar grinned at him, and said, “So, there’s a backbone in there somewhere after all, huh?”

“FUCK YOU!” Xander yelled back, seeing red. He’d been the butt joke of fate, destiny, girls and his own father; he wasn’t going to become the butt joke of his own spirit as well. He launched himself forward, actually managing to hit the being in the face. He didn’t stop and pressed his attack, following it up with a flurry of punches.

“Hm, if only you showed this to that piece of shit father of yours, and kicked his ass instead, maybe you’d be less black and blue all the time,” the avatar mocked him as it blocked a punch. A scream of rage came from Xander as he performed a devastating uppercut - thunder rolling again at the event: this time from the volcano letting out another explosion of lava. The uppercut connected and with an actual grunt the avatar was launched into the air, Xander following to continue the assault. The avatar came down, and its tails moved downward to absorb the impact and do more than land on it. Immediately the tails pushed, making the avatar twist around, and then up. Having made a full circle, the avatar moved up, and his right leg slammed into Xander’s chin, surprising the young man with the Avatar’s use of his animal tails. With a groan Xander was launched into the air and slammed onto the ground, moaning again with the pain.

The avatar didn’t press his advantage this time, not physically at least, and instead said, “You disgust me. Nearly a year Buffy’s here, for nearly a year you imagine yourself her protector, and what have you done in that near year? Nothing, you’ve been sitting on your ass letting things pass by. You never trained, you never worked to get better, never asked for training, never went to get it anywhere! And why?” The avatar switched to a winy voice, mock shivering in fear, he finished, “I don’t want to turn into my father.”

“I am /not/ like my father,” Xander snarled struggling to get up.

“Of course you’re not, that’s why you can train and become a fighter, and you don’t have to cower in the background,” the avatar snarled angrily. Then more gentle, but still with a dangerous edge, “Tell me, are you going to waste me?” Xander looked puzzled at the being, it had suddenly switched from heaping on more abuse, to asking rather serious questions with an almost benign tone. The avatar ran out of patience and clarified, “Come on, Harris! It was bad enough you sat on your ass when you had nothing, but now you have me! My knowledge, my power, are you going get off your ass, or are you going to toss me aside? Will you finally step up and actually protect your girls!?”

“How?” Xander asked him, uncertain. “You know how quick a body even with the power of a captain depleted its strength, I probably can’t do a damn thing. And we have no way to pop out of the body and be purely spiritual.”

“We’ll just have to remedy that, won’t we?” the avatar said forcefully, taking a few steps to stand right in front of him, looking fiercely into Xander’s eyes, the tails less snappy now. “We’ll train, we’ll make sure we get the stamina and spirit force necessary to do everything from within a body. We’ll have to train in every human art and martial art that’ll strengthen the spirit – Tai Chi, Raikiri, mediation, from books to the internet, we’ll try it. And to give the body the strength to handle the spirit, we’ll train it, every day, we’ll get up at six, if not five if it’s necessary, run, lift weights. After school, all the time; and let’s not forget the Death God magic, and all of Kuchiki’s knowledge.”

“His memories are vague, and his knowledge, he didn’t have a photographic memory for me to inherit, I still have to relearn everything he knew, find it in my brain!” Xander answered, but much less vehemently, he was starting to warm up to the idea, but still hating the bastard that had tried to kick his ass – and some might say succeeded in doing it. “Then I have to adapt it to a body.”

“Not after this, you’ll have access to all his knowledge through me,” the avatar said with a grin.

Xander remained silent for a few moments, and then with a determined look said, “Let’s do it.”

“That’s the spirit,” the avatar said with a growl that was accompanied by a bark from the hyena, a hiss from the snake, and several explosions from the volcano and thunder storm. The avatar turned around and started walking away. Then he turned around and said, “You’ve shown me not to be a total wuss, Xander, that means you’ve earned my name. It’s Ferissfenyur. And somebody’s at the window.”

*****

That last statement jerked Xander out of his dream state, and sat up. A knocking came across from him, a knocking on glass. Xander looked at saw Willow gently tap the glass. He quickly went over and opened the window. “What are you doing here?” he asked as Willow crawled inside with a smile. He hated it when Willow did this. He had forbidden her once to do it unless it was an emergency, and even then he had wanted her to just toss pebbles against the window. In order to get at his window on the second floor, Willow had to climb up a trellis on which a climbing plant was growing. One slip, and she’d fall, possibly to her death. But, after once being at the receiving end of Xander’s father’s ire, Xander didn’t want her to go through that anymore either. Willow had happily agreed, but when she felt she had to go to Xander’s, she went inside using the method that avoided Xander’s father ever knowing she was there.

“I came here to talk,” Willow said excitedly. With Buffy as an actual honest to god female friend, and all the rest going on, they didn’t talk as often as they used to. Through Jesse’s death and Xander’s crush on Buffy, a light rift had regrettably formed, even while she had a thing for him. But now, they had something to tie them closer together again, perhaps closer than ever. She stepped inside, and Xander closed the window behind her. She turned around and said with a smile, “Your sword isn’t gone, is it?”

Xander looked astonished at her, and then asked, “H-how did you know?”

Willow’s grin brightened, and she explained, “If the magic couldn’t change your soul to make Captain Kuchiki’s Spirit Slayer, than it stands to reason it can’t destroy a piece of that soul either as it wears off.” Willow smiled and then shrugged, “Besides, if the magic had worn off, it wouldn’t have disappeared, it would have turned back into the plastic sword it once was.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Xander said a little uncertain and Willow remained expectantly silent.

After a bit, Willow lost her patience, and said, “Well, come on! Show it to me!”

“Oh, right,” Xander said, and then looked nervously around. “Well, I haven’t actually tried getting it back yet after it disappeared. So here goes.” Willow frowned at that, and Xander held out his right hand, frowning for a moment thinking on how to get it back. He settled for a part demand, part need somewhere in his mind, and suddenly the sword materialized in his hand, and he closed it around the hilt entirely. He grinned as he looked at the gleaming blade, and felt the scabbard and the belt reform around his torso so the scabbard was on his back. He hadn’t even realized it had gone from his back until now!

Willow looked at the weapon, gleaming in the dim bedroom light. “Wow,” Willow said, stepping closer, and gently touched the side of the blade, feeling its cold surface, and something else too. Probably its spiritual power, but she had no way of really knowing. She looked away from it and smiled at Xander. She asked him, “Xan, how come you knew the sword wasn’t gone, when you hadn’t summoned it back yet?”

“Uh . . .” Xander frowned and wondered how to explain this. He settled for saying, “Would you believe we had a little conversation in my head?”

Willow’s smile broadened, and she nodded. “Yes, the Death God that possessed you hinted at something like that. What did you talk about?”

“About training,” Xander said, deciding to leave out the whole kicking each other’s ass thing – mostly his ass getting kicked, but he was already on planning on some payback after enough training. He was pretty sure that with increase in his spiritual strength as Ferissfenyur had put it, he’d be much better at fighting in there as well. “About using this sword, about growing stronger.”

Willow’s eyes twinkled, and said, “To protect Buffy, right?” And again time for Xander to look astonished. “Let me show you, sit,” Willow said excitedly and sat down in a lotus position on the floor, Xander followed suit, placing the sword on his knees. Willow fished inside the pocket of her jeans, and pulled out a small wax light. She put the small white candle in a tin covering on the ground, and then put her hands on either side of it. Some five centimeters away and her hands curved, her hands had the wax light all but surrounded, and she started whispering something Xander couldn’t make out. He bent forward a little though, to take in the candle fully. A few moments later, the wax light was aflame, seemingly of its own accord. Willow sat up straight again, pulling her hands away, and looking proudly at Xander.

“How did you do that?” Xander asked astonished, examining the light, for an irrational moment wondering if it had been a trick.

“I’ve been practicing for a while now,” Willow said both proud and conspiratorially. “I’ve wanted to help Buffy with more than just reading books, you know?” She blushed lightly as Xander looked directly at her. “Last night, when I saw her die, or Amanda die, or – you know – that was horrible. I’ve been practicing it every moment that I've had the chance today and I finally got it right.”

“Why fire?” Xander asked, examining the candle again.

“Burns vamps,” Willow said, shrugging and Xander looked back up again. “I know, too small, but you gotta start with baby steps, right?” Xander nodded with a smile. “I wanted to ask, but, uhm, Giles keeps any real magic books away from just about anybody – that magic stuff the Death God did; can you do it? I mean . . .”

Xander looked up at her, and then sighed. “When I was done with our conversation, you know . . .” Xander indicated the katana on his knees, “. . . a lot of the Death God’s stuff has gotten much clearer. And Will, I’m pretty sure most of the exhaustion I felt, came from casting those spells while in a body – even with his level of spirit force . . . magical power . . . mana, you know?” Willow nodded in understanding and gestured for Xander to continue, “And he was like . . . Mr. Top of the Line. That magic was developed for spirits, beings that are all energy. If you and I, or even the average magical user tried to cast those things, while in a body that is, it’d put us in a coma, or even kill us.”

“Oh,” Willow said a little deflated.

“But, you know, I am planning on modifying the stuff for the use of people inside a body,” Xander said, indeed planning on it, and wanted to lift Willow’s spirits.

Willow perked up, and looked amazed at Xander, “You can do that?”

Xander frowned, and then replied, “I think so, with the help of the sword. And you know, if I succeed, and I think it’s safe enough for you, I’ll teach you. Until then, you could practice human magic.” Willow looked up, a little deflated. Xander smiled at her, and added, “There should be other sources than Giles, right? Books, libraries, the internet, I don’t know.”

“Yeah, I could look around . . . maybe even try magic from totally different schools, philosophies and religions?” Willow asked with wide excited eyes, as if she had found a new toy. “And maybe even find a way inside Giles’ vault.”

Xander frowned at that, and said, “But promise me you’ll be careful, okay, Will? You learn everything there is to learn, from the ground up, okay? And not just the flashy spells but also the less flashy ones, and all the dangers of this stuff. I don’t think Giles would just lock books away for the heck of it. Hell, knowing Giles, he probably thinks that’s a punishable offense; so there must some danger about it. And saving Buffy’s life, just to exchange it for yours, just isn’t worth it, you know? Hm, maybe you should ask someone to look after you whenever you try something that might be dangerous. I’m offering.”

Willow looked at him, her smile slowly broadening. She nodded, and then held out her right hand. “All right, I’ll ask you for help, and you mine, if we need it during training. I’ll learn everything there is to learn about magic, from the ground up, be safe, and grow stronger, be the best, if you become strongest and be the best at using that sword as you can possibly be, and the Death God’s magic too. To protect Buffy, deal?”

Xander didn’t need to think about that one. “To protect Buffy,” he said, grabbing his longest friend’s hand. Shaking it, he added, “Deal.”

After a moment to let the momentous occasion of the birth of their pact pass, they let go of each other’s hands, and Willow said, “I need to get home before mom and dad find out.”

“Sure,” Xander said, and got up as Willow blew out little candle, and took it as she herself got up. He walked over to his window and opened it. As Willow started climbing up, he said softly, “Be careful.”

“I am,” Willow said, and climbed out on the rack with the climbing plant. “See ya tomorrow, Xan,” Willow told him with a smile and then started climbing down.

“See you tomorrow,” Xander returned the goodbye, and waited with closing the window until after Willow was down on the ground and on her way back home.

*****

Two weeks later

Dirty brown hair framed her face. She looked timidly around, keeping the rags that made up her clothes - a barely holding together skirt that reached her ankles and white blouse - tightly wrapped around her, but not because it was cold – no, she was hiding something precious beneath the folds. The dirt road she walked along, filled with holes and mud was the main road of a town. The town itself, was a mixture of wood and stone houses, mostly a stone foundation with wood on top of them. Buffy didn’t quite understand, she was pretty sure this was a scene from the past, yet here she was walking through it and it felt too familiar to be the past. She felt horrendously dirty too, the smudges on her skin, and smell of sweat, dirt, and even urine that clung to her, and more so her clothes felt disgusting. Yet at the same time it felt natural – she wasn’t due for a scrub and barely useful clothes washing in the cold river for another day or two.

She walked past a horse-drawn carriage, the smell of rotting flesh assaulting her nose. This time if felt horrible to her entire being, yet still a part of her had smelled it before – which didn’t seem to make any sense to Buffy. She was pretty sure she never saw a pile of plague-ridden corpses on a carriage, or at least wasn’t meant to have seen it. Two men in heavy cloaks and some gauze covering her faces unceremoniously tossed another body on top of the pile.

Buffy quickly walked on, and checking back and forth to see if no one saw, she checked on her precious cargo. The lump of bread’s smell was making her mouth water and reminding her of her hunger. The smell was easily overpowering that of her dirtied clothes, even though it probably shouldn’t. She just couldn’t wait any longer – she knew she should wait till she was in her hideout, but she just had to have at least one bite right now. She quickly tore a chunk of bread free and stuffed it in her mouth, hungrily starting to chew.

“STOP, THIEF!”

Buffy recognized the voice instantly, it was the baker’s she’d stolen the bread from. Panicked she looked around, hoping against hope it wasn’t him after all, or he was shouting about some other thief. The baker though, came running straight at her, a vicious wooden stick with a bulb at the end in his hands.

Buffy immediately started running, breathing heavily, people looking after her. She could feel the heavy foot steps of the medieval baker getting closer. Tears sprung in her eyes as she noticed no matter how much she tried she couldn’t get more speed out of her body.

“Please!” she cried out desperately, looking back at the nearly on her baker. “I just need something to eat! I’m sorry. I’m starving, just let me . . .” She shouldn’t have looked back; she trailed off as she stumbled over a stone and tumbled to the ground. She twisted around and put her hands in front of her in a futile gesture to ward off the baker. “Please, I’m sorry,” she sobbed, and pain blossomed in her torso as the baker’s foot found her belly. She didn’t even manage to cry out with the immense pain as the air in her lungs rushed out with the impact. A moment later, a much sharper pain jabbed in her side. With gritted teeth she let out a gurgle, while her entire body went rigid.

Then another even sharper pain, this one to the back of her head – but it never developed like the first two impacts on her body; this pain simply drowned in nothingness.

Blackness, it might not seem like that different from nothingness, but to someone who awoke from the latter into the former, the difference was immense. It was a relief, but only for a moment. Things were touching her body, things that felt wrong. The smell of death and rotting flesh was stronger now than she’d ever smelled. Her brain somehow put the things together, and she realized where she was – in a grave, in a mass plague-victim grave. Revulsion and terror like she never felt before assaulted, and she started pushed herself to what she thought was up. She clawed, pushed and scratched in the direction, trying to get the bodies out of her way – rotting skin and flesh more than once let go and stuck to her fingers and nails. She screamed, as she struggled, harder when dirt and then more dirt came falling down on top of her. How she managed it, she did not know, as it felt like dirt and dead bodies – maybe zombies or vampires – were trying to squeeze her to death, starting with forcing air from her lungs, but she somehow felt no more dirt at the tips of her fingers. She reached the ground! Scratching, pulling and pushing with increasing panic, yet hope, she forced herself up. Up! Up! Out! Out!

That was it! The ground gave away, fresh air . . .

No fresh air! Still trapped! Buffy trashed, dug, and clawed. The ground felt like sheets and covers now, but they were no less constricting her lungs. Finally they parted away, and she desperately forced her head past the bed covers, and thankfully relatively fresh air entered her lungs. She didn’t stop, continuing to claw and kick until she was completely free from the covers, which were now mostly on the ground. She scooted backward, only stopping against the head of the bed and the wall it was standing against. She drew up her knees in front of her, wrapping her hands around them, and shivered as she slowly calmed down.

It wasn’t until a while later that she had processed what happened. She had had a nightmare, but not just any nightmare: this was Amanda’s first death. She shivered, thanking god she wasn’t Amanda, and this was just a nightmare – but also worrying what this could mean.

Trying to get back to sleep proved futile. After checking her alarm clock, which showed it was just before half past five, she decided she might as well put in another patrol. And so she dressed and climbed out of her window.

*****

Buffy was strolling past the last cemetery on her patrol for the night, half her mind on her surroundings and any signs of vampires or anything else for that matter, and the other half on the terrifying vision she had gotten to experience in her nightmare.

It was ironic, Buffy reflected. Being possessed by Amanda for a night was the best thing to happen to her since becoming the Slayer.

She didn’t even notice it until the middle of last week, after conversing with Xander all day in a number of different languages, the restart of her sword lessons with Giles – and promptly leaving Giles behind and continuing to master Amanda’s skills herself, watcher and thus Slayer training may be something, but was pathetic in comparison to 1200 years of continuous sword improvements of an Immortal. Acing her French test with ease was a lovely perk. Yes, she’d been using Amanda’s leftover knowledge almost non-stop. So much knowledge, so many languages, so much experience, so many skills – even if but a little remained, it was still more than a human could learn in a single lifetime.

Amanda had lived for over a twelve hundred years. In all that time she had lived, she had seen, done, and experienced so many things. Many were very terrible and awful things. A few were sparkling gems of joy and happiness. But above all that, what Buffy cherished was her confidence.

Every time that Buffy tapped into the remnants of Amanda, beyond the skills of language, swordsmanship, etiquette, thievery, and seduction, she had an abundant and overwhelming sense of confidence in herself. And that confidence is what Buffy felt every time she spoke with Xander in Japanese, what she felt every time she dueled with Giles during training.

Most, especially Xander and Willow, seemed to think that just because she was the Slayer, that she was some kind of role model super heroine, that she always knew exactly what to do in every situation and how to save the day without even trying. Although that had taken a hit after she got Willow captured falling for a trap, it had steadily returned. Only Giles seemed to be immune to that. She tried to live up to the ideal, she really did most days. But she was still just a 16 year old girl.

Sixteen year old girls aren’t /supposed/ to be responsible for saving the world! Sixteen-year-old-girls are supposed to be enjoying life, dating boys, having slumber parties, sweet sixteens, and getting ready to grow up. It wasn’t fair that she got this when there were probably tons of people with a lot more knowledge and experience and passion that wanted to take her place!

Buffy Summers was the most /un/-confident sixteen year-old-girl that there was. Oh, she made it seem like she was – or at least thought she managed it quite well – but it was really just a bluff. Amanda’s confidence had stopped being a bluff a millennium ago; hers was genuine – living that long and becoming ever more powerful had a habit of doing that. It, in fact, got most old Immortals killed – so confident it became arrogance, believing they had already won when they faced another Immortal in combat. One moment of carelessness, of taking things too easy, moving slowly, or showing off, and their heads came off.

When she learned how tapping into Amanda’s knowledge let her feel a thousand years worth of pure feminine confidence all at once . . . Buffy really should have known this wouldn’t be a free ride, especially not on the Hellmouth, but she hadn’t been able to help herself. She shivered again as the memory of the nightmare flashed through her. If she ever heard the words “Black Plague” again, it’d be too soon.

“Oh look,” a creepy sing-song voice called out suddenly from the darkness.

Buffy froze, turning towards the too-familiar voice, facing the woods and focusing entirely upon the here and now. Damn, she’d spent too much time wallowing in her nightmare induced terrifying thoughts, and paid too little mind to her surroundings. Now she was in a real terrifying situation.

“The big bad wolf has gone and put on its sheepskin and now all the other wolves have come to eat it all up like a lost little lamb,” Drusilla stepped out of the shadows, a whole hoard of demonic glowing eyes behind her. “Whatever shall it do?”

Buffy chose not to reply to the question, instead she pulled out her stake and eyeballed the odds stacked against her. She swallowed the growing nervousness in the top of her chest.

“You killed my Spike,” the insane master vampire spoke, suddenly and disturbingly lucid. “Now it’s your turn, Slayer!”

*****

Xander stepped out into the cool, early morning air. He took a deep breath, and smiled. After some Tai Chi exercises he came out to do some running, as he had vowed to do two weeks earlier. Surprising him, though, was that it didn’t feel like a chore, not anymore. The first few days, but after that he found he was looking forward to Tai Chi and the running. He had noticed it work too, he felt fitter, could run longer before having to slow down, and the exercises with his sword, actually using spiritual energy seemed to go easier as well.

So, Xander started off on his morning run, heading right, toward the park and main cemeteries. Best thing was, it was too close to dawn for any vampire to still be braving the world outside, and too early for any demons who could brave the day to be up and about – like most humans, except the occasional other runner Xander had come across. Four days earlier, he had met one particular brave vampire though, but as it was all alone, Xander had a magnificent mystical sword, and it was stupid as vampires were, perhaps more so if it wasn’t bravery that had it out and about so early in the morning. Suffice it to say, it did not last long.

Thus Xander was running happily along the pavement, until he reached the entrance to the park, and ran along the dirt path. He ran along with the pleasant tingling sensation of a good workout throughout his body, until he heard a commotion. He paused his run, listened carefully, hearing voices and changed course when the voice stopped. The only thing he heard now was a mumbo jumbo of sounds, that only cleared up into the sounds of a fight as he got closer.

His heart nearly stopped when he got close enough to see what was going on. Buffy was fighting vamps, lots of them. Possibly as many as twenty, and it was obvious there were simply too many of them for Buffy to handle. He raced forward again, noticing one vamp attacking Buffy from behind while she was struggling with a particularly strong vampire. Xander jumped out of the bushes into the clearing, his Spirit Slayer materializing in his hand with barely a thought. Just as the vamp was about to put the hurt on Buffy, the mystical sword smoothly cut through its neck, and it disintegrated. Xander landed, turning around, and stood back to back with Buffy. The Slayer had already been startled and had managed to kick the strong vampire away, without killing him, she relaxed a little, only to grow more anxious, when she found it was Xander.

“Hey, Buffy, cavalry is here,” Xander commented as he eyed the vampires, who were returning the favor, not quite sure how to deal with the new arrival. “Cavalry is a rookie with a mystical sword he only just got, but it’s here.”

The concerned friend part of Buffy wanted to ask what he was doing here, yell that he should be safe at home, and tell him to run, the warrior part of Buffy though, overrode them, realizing there were more pressing concerns. “Thanks, but if you die, I’m gonna kill you,” Buffy told him with a smirk – always keep your enemies off center. Back to back, did feel somewhat comforting, even if it was only so she wouldn’t die alone as she had been expecting with such number advantages. “Thought the sword was gone,” she did ask though. She simply felt Xander shrugging.

“Oh, how touching, the little reaper would like to guide his precious Slayer to the afterlife,” Drusilla singsonged, followed by a deranged cackle that made the hairs on everyone present’s neck stand up – including the vampires. Drusilla seemed to return to reality again for a moment, as she snarled, “Kill them both!”

The vampires attacked en masse. Buffy grabbed the one nearest, to her left, and tossed it to her right, where it slammed into another vampire keeping them both away. A quick step out from their back to back position, in tandem with a rapid jab of her stake and a vampire turned to dust. Another vamp slammed his foot in the arm holding her stake, but determination made sure she kept a hold of it. She returned to kick at the vamp, and send it staggering back. Another vamp attacked with a quick punch, but she deflected it and immediately locked it up away from its chest. Even as her stake slammed home, and the vamp dusted, another vamp’s fist hit her square in the face, and she staggered under the force. The numbers game even now was getting to them.

Next to her, Xander was giving it his best, but it was obvious he was not on the level of vampires yet. A vampire punch landed on his face, but being against Buffy’s back made sure he remained upright. The slice with his sword forced the vamp to back off, but another one from the side attacked. Xander grabbed his stake from inside his jacket with his left hand, while slicing his Zanpakut? towards his right to keep a vampire at bay. The stake landed in the vampire’s shoulder making it jerk back in some pain, then it snarled angrily.

Xander ducked underneath a punch he didn’t see, realizing his fight and awareness training with his sword were paying off. The punching arm made an enticing target, and a moment later the weapon sliced it off just under the elbow. The vampire screamed in pain and staggered back, but then froze in shock as the severed part of his arm turned to dust. Severed limbs did not turn to dust! Not unless the vampire was killed. Vampires were supposed to be able to reattach the arm with a little sewing and watch it heal over some time. His shock cost him its un-life, as Xander wasted no time impaling his sword into the easy target’s heart.

As that one turned to dust, a vampire with ash blonde hair gave Xander a bone shattering punch to his jaw, making Xander stagger. Lucky for Xander it didn’t actually do any bone shattering. Forced toward another vampire, Xander had to leave the punch unretaliated for now. He swung the sword horizontally at chest level and as the new vampire jumped back to avoid it, he turned slightly and moved a bit and jabbed his stake towards its heart. The vampire simply deflected the strike though. Xander stuck his sword straight out to catch an advancing vampire into its stomach. It screamed and staggered back off of the sword and then dropped to the floor, continuing to scream and holding his wound, which obviously hurt a lot more than it should.

Xander felt Buffy stagger away from him from an especially powerful punch, and decided reducing numbers against them was important – especially as the strong ash-blond vamp from before was coming at him from the side again. Taking a few steps, he sliced off the head of the vampire with the belly wound. As it turned to dust he found himself surrounded by four of the significantly diminished vampires. He saw Buffy in the same predicament but with six or seven vamps, and knew that if they didn’t link back up soon they’d be finished. Deciding it was time to pull his own particular brand of kamikaze attack back out the closet, he simply charged straight toward her, slicing the sword back and forth to open a path for him.

One vampire backed away to Xander’s left, and he jumped up. Scared, the vamp backed away from the blade coming for its neck, that was good, so Xander had almost a free path toward Buffy: only a vampire preoccupied with the Slayer was in his way. Too bad for Xander, the ash-blond vampire once again showed it was the toughest and smartest of the bunch. It had charged and now jumped and kicked powerfully at Xander’s right wrist. With a yell of pain he let go of the mystical sword, and it flew onward.

Buffy had dispatched another vampire to wherever vampires go when they die, kicked another away from her, and punched another in the jaw. She brought the stake around, but the vampire move at the last moment, making the stake embed itself in its shoulder instead of its heart. She jerked it back, being only narrowly in time to raise her arms up to block a powerful forward kick – still, it hurt like hell, her arms ringing with the impact.

She gritted her teeth, for a moment with Xander at her back, she had dared hoped they might both get out of this alive. How come Drusilla had known she was out so early in the morning anyway? Oh, right, she was psychic, wasn’t she? Stupid psychic crap.

A reflex, fueled by something in the corner of her mind, made her grab up, and to her light surprise she was holding Xander’s weapon. “USE IT!” came Xander’s yell. She wanted to protest she didn’t need it and he did, but saw Xander yank his stake from a vampire’s lung, elbow it to the ground, and then while falling down on top of it, dust the vampire firmly. While he got up, he pulled out a cross to join the stake. Maybe he could handle himself, but even if he didn’t, the only way to help him was to thin the horde.

She moved gracefully, shifting the sword to her left hand, avoiding a particular powerful running punch and sliced off the offending arm, which promptly turned to dust. Shifting the sword back to her right, she twirled around and severed the vampire’s head. With a fluid motion, twisted around, and with a particular vicious idea of a defense she held the sharp end forward. The vampire that attacked there, sliced its fist in two parts, then its arm. Buffy jabbed the sword down into the ground, cutting further up the arm, and jabbing on it for good measure too. The vampire screamed in pain, pulling back, part of the split open arm, including the entire hand dusted, leaving a nasty bleeding dusty stump.

Buffy was rather surprised as she was already aware of another vampire attacking behind and moved in for the kill. She didn’t know whether it was the mystical blade, whether it enhanced or let her tap into heretofore untapped Slayer’s potential, or whether it was just remnants of Amanda’s far superior skill with swords, or a combination of all three, but she wasn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth; she had become a dance of death. On one leg, already twirling around, she impaled the vampire in its heart, turning it to dust, and finishing the twirl a vampire lost his head, and with it, his cohesion.

A smooth, quick motion to her right, while stepping, allowed her to bring the blade down toward a vampire, who brought up his arms defensively while trying to back away. Wrong move, for the Spirit Slayer sliced through the vampire’s arms like a hot knife through butter. One turned to dust, the other was cut half-way and useless, with the vampire screaming in unnatural pain, unsuccessfully trying to cradle his arms.

Buffy ducked low, a kick going over her and she already twisted around. Her initial step back had made her move to the right place, to get close enough, and to entice the vampire to kick. His other leg got severed halfway above the knee, and as it dusted it fell screaming in pain to the floor. A quick jump forward - which was now toward the just felled vampire - made her avoid a vampire’s swipe. A quick jab downward ended the downed vampire’s screams and un-life.

She turned back, a hard strike forward impaled a vampire in the heart, and he joined his comrades twirling to the floor. A crescent kick backward found a vampire in the chin and launched him away from her. When her leg was back on the ground, she ducked underneath a punch from another vampire, and speared the mystical sword sharply up, through its heart and head. Fluttering dust followed.

What had been seven or eight, was soon reduced to three. It was then that Drusilla chose to join the fight, unleashing her hypnotizing power on Buffy. She had faced both Lothos’ and the Master’s though, and wouldn’t fall for it again. Still, fighting off the weakened vampiress’ psychic onslaught was enough of a distraction for one vampire to kick the sword from her hand. As she gasped in pain and grasped her hurt wrist, the sword chunked onto the sandy ground. A moment later the two other vampires tackled her to the floor and held her down by her arms and shoulders.

“Damn you,” Buffy snarled as she struggled to no avail. “I hope you all choke on my blood.”

“Ooh, the stars are bright and happy tonight,” Drusilla muttered as she sauntered over, her dress flowing hypnotically in the slowly lightening sky. The third vampire that had kicked the sword out of Buffy’s hand bared his fangs and produced its claws.

“Time to die, bitch,” he snarled, moving his claws down to Buffy’s neck, intent on leaving the healing Slayer blood for his hurt mistress who stood smiling over Buffy head.

Xander in the meantime, had lost his stake, even if he had hurt the three vampires dealing with him before they had gotten rid of it. Falling down after a kick, he raised his left hand holding the cross, even as another vamp grabbed him by his other shoulder and arm like Buffy. The third vamp was at Xander’s hand, scrambling up from where Xander had kicked him down. The vamp approaching the cross flinched for a moment, then chuckled sinisterly, “Do you really that little cross is going save you?”

Xander wasn’t listening to the vamp, he had heard Buffy’s curse, and was watching her predicament. He had to do something, but what!? Instinctively he searched for the separated piece of his soul, and found the weapon lying just a bit beyond Buffy. He dropped the cross, and reached his left hand toward it, and demanding it come to him, needing it. The Spirit Slayer suddenly jumped up, flying rapidly end over end, and sliced smoothly through the head and upper torso of the vampire about to kill Buffy.

Buffy looked astonished as the katana flipped rapidly by her head, and cut through the vampire about to slice her neck open with its claws. She watched astonished as the head and upper torso started to peel sideways, but it never got the chance to finish: a part of the heart had been cut in half as well. The vampire dusted, and Buffy lifted her head, watching the sword flip through the air onward – a small part of her annoyed she got vampire dust on her clothes again. She watched as the blade smoothly flew into Xander’s hand, in the perfect position for him to simply yank the sword backward to slice through the neck of the vampire that was about to sink its fangs into Xander’s neck. “I want one,” she muttered in astonishment.

Buffy, and the vampires still near her, including Drusilla, watched as Xander made use of the other vampires’ surprise. He twisted around, and cut the leg off the vampire that had been holding him. It let go as it screamed, sinking to its remaining knee, holding the remains of his other leg. Buffy watched as Xander turned while getting to his knees, and then stabbed the sword forward as he jumped up, getting the third vampire trying to attack in its heart. As it dusted, Xander turned around, and with a two handed strike downward, severed the head of the one-legged vampire.

Then, with a storm of fury on his face, Xander came rapidly marching over. The vampires holding Buffy panicked and let her go. The left one suddenly grabbed the other, and tossed him toward Xander as she – for the vampire was female – turned around and ran. The tossed vampire didn’t have long to live, and Buffy got up, instantly turning around.

“Damnit!” she cursed, as Xander arrived next to her. “Drusilla got away,” she said, scanning the trees but finding no trace of the deranged vampire mistress.

Xander looked incredulously at Buffy, and said, “Shouldn’t that be, ‘Thank god, we’re alive and my hot best friend didn’t even get his sexy ass disfigured in the process?’”

Buffy blinked, looked at him, and gave an embarrassed shrug. Then she realized something, “Hey, what about my sexy ass?”

Xander looked deadpan at her, and answered, “You’re the Slayer, it’d heal.” Buffy crossed her hands across her chest, huffed indignantly and pouted.

Xander grinned and smoothly slid his Zanpakut? into the sheath on his back, which promptly, along with the blade, disappeared. Buffy watched it happen, and realized just how damn useful that was; she’d never be without a weapon, and she could take it anywhere. “I /sooo/ want one,” she said with wide eager eyes still trained on where the sword had disappeared.

“You’re not getting mine,” Xander told her, seeking her eyes.

Buffy gave him her best puppy dog eyes, and uttered pitifully, “Aw.”

Xander didn’t let it show, but he hated that a small part of him was actually debating giving it to her. She just looked so pitifully cute, not to mention that sexy tongue plainly visible in a perfect ‘o’ mouth. Curse his teenage male hormones!

*****

Same time
Sewers

Drusilla cursed and spat and moaned and wailed as she stumbled her way through the underground labyrinth of the Sunnydale sewer system. Spike hadn’t ever let her leave the warehouse before, unless it was for something special and he always took care that he never left her side so he could protect her. Ever since Prague, she’d been awfully weak . . .

Suddenly, just as she entered the warehouse district, coincidentally just as she was passing the tunnels that would lead to the Bronze, Mrs. Edith began to sing to her in a whispering melody that almost couldn’t be heard.

Stopping in place, the insane vampiress seer swayed back and forth for a minute or two, before her eyes snapped open and a mischievous and deviously content grin crossed her porcelain features. She had just had a vision, though she herself would use more colorful terms to describe it.

Instead of going back to the warehouse where she would be safe until the big bad Slayer found her, she stumbled down the tunnel leading towards the Bronze, following the trailing whisper that spoke of a new daddy, a new and more loyal Spike, a way of getting her family all back.

All to find her Hobbit in the Night . . .

*****

Meanwhile, Xander was walking Buffy back to her house. Thankfully, despite this being California, there was still some time until the sun fully rose, so there was no rush.

Nevertheless, the hardest part of any conversation is starting one. Although it helps if you’re a couple of teen heroes that get a real kick out of conversing in flawless Japanese.

“So, Xander, what exactly are you doing out and about at five in the AM?” she asked. “And come to think of it, I thought that sword had disappeared!”

“Well... technically, it did,” he stalled, while silently glad he was already sweating from exercise so she wouldn’t see the cold sweat he was now feeling.

“I meant permanently,” she scowled at him, “And don’t avoid the question!”

“I was saving one of my best friends, if it’s any of your concern,” he teased back.

“You know what I mean,” her scowl deepened. “Before the vampires. Because if you really did come out for the sole reason to help me with Dru’s ambush that only happened a few seconds before you showed up, I’m going to have to recheck you for stalker vibes and make sure that you can’t go out and do something stupid. Like patrol on your own without any back-up. I’m the Slayer, Xan, not you. It’s my job to patrol. Plus, even with your sword, which don’t think you’re getting out of explaining that by the way, you aren’t strong enough to handle a bunch of vamps by yourself. I can.”

“Yeah, OK, I was running, all right? Happy now? I was running,” Xander huffed.

“From what?” Buffy pouted in concern.

Xander raised an eyebrow at the blonde’s apparent thought process.

“OK, I think we’ve both been on the Hellmouth too long if your first assumption is that I got up early for the sole benefit of having something chase me until I came across you fighting a bunch of vamps. Geez Buff! I was running for exercise. You know, early-morning jogging? Admittedly it is a skill that I am working on honing so I can better run away from certain... things, but in this instance, no, I was running just to run, Buff.”

“Oh, uh . . . oops?” she shrugged sheepishly.

He waved it off. “Like I said, we’ve both been on the Hellmouth too long. What were you doing up? It’s early for the rest of the world, but I’m pretty sure Giles doesn’t make you patrol until sunrise.”

She shrugged, no longer smiling and replied shortly, “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Why?” he frowned with concern.

“Never mind that, tell me about the sword. It disappeared in front of our eyes and now all of a sudden, a week later, you’re swinging it around killing vampires with it. It never did change back, did it? It’s still that... what did Willow call it again? Oh right, Soul Slayer?”

Xander sighed and weighed the pros and cons within a second. Giles might be Buffy’s Watcher, but even he knew that there were some things that she was still keeping from him. Some of them were things she had confided to him and Willow about, others were things she hadn’t told anybody about, but he knew anyway. Buffy could be trusted.

“Yeah, yeah it is,” he answered. “Although Spirit Slayer is better name for it; it slays all kinds of spirits, not just souls.”

“So?” she prodded.

“Like Willow said, it’s not just a sword, it’s a piece of my soul, the more dangerous parts anyway, made into a living, spiritual weapon. Hence the killing vampires part,” he began. “Turns out that the guy I dressed as, Kuchiki Byakuya, was a Shinigami Captain, Shinigami translated as . . .”

“Death God,” she interrupted, reminding him she could speak Japanese as well as he.

“Right. Well, there are only a one or /maybe/ two ranks of power above Captain in the system of rank according to the Shinigami government. Byakuya could even match with the rank above his, but he was satisfied with his position and did not seek power for power’s sake. But that also means, I found out the day after I visited you guys, that I have all of his knowledge and experience. The power didn’t stay, but then again you’re no longer an Immortal either, so there ya go.”

“Night after I showed up at the Library and the sword disappeared, I did something that should’ve been impossible. I spoke to the spirit of my Soul Slayer,” he told her.

Buffy pouted again, confused. “How does that even work, if the sword is a part of your soul, then wouldn’t you just basically be talking to yourself?”

Xander shrugged, then said, “Not exactly. It’s sorta like when Native Americans, gotta be politically correct otherwise Willow will throw a fit, meditate and commune with their spirit animals, or when Australians go on Walkabout until they ’meet themselves’. Sort of communicating with a part of yourself that normally you’re not aware of. Plus, Soul Slayers are separate from the soul, but still apart of it. It’s this whole existential thing, I don’t think too much about it. Makes my head hurt.”

“Mine too,” she confessed, rubbing her temples.

“Anyway, a Shinigami only meets the spirit of their Zanpakut? after maybe a full century or two of having it and meditating with it and fighting with it. Then, after that, they’re supposedly allowed to learn the name of their weapon, which allows for the next stage of development.”

“Did you learn the name of yours?” she couldn’t help asking. He nodded. “Well?”

He shook his head and said, “Sorry Buff. It’s private. This isn’t just any favorite stake or specially made crossbow. Not to mention, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, names have power. And you don’t go around saying the name of a weapon with this much power casually, if you know what I mean.”

She didn’t, but said nothing about it. Just nodded her head as they walked along.

“So, running?” she asked after about ten paces.

He shrugged again. “Hard to explain in a way that won’t make you angry, or me sound like some kind of wuss.”

“Come on,” she whined.

“Oh all right. I’m training myself,” Xander said. “To be honest, I’m not sure why it never occurred to me before this, but from the day you got here and I learned about vamps and demons and the Hellmouth, I could have been training to get stronger, faster, and joining you in working with Giles. I may never be /as/ strong and fast, but the better I am, the better my chances of survival are! Oh, and I’ve been training myself to use a sword based on Byakuya’s left over knowledge.”

“What was that last part?” Buffy deadpanned.

“I’ve been training myself to use a sword,” he said casually while dedicatedly not looking in her direction at all.

“Want a sparring partner?” she asked, just as casually.

“Huh?!” he did a double-take.

“You said it yourself,” she replied, “The better you, and heck even Willow are, the better your chances of survival as you apparently are no longer going to jet at the concept of working out, and after a year, you’re clearly not going to shun me because of all the demons and vampires that attack.

“Plus, I’ve left Giles in the dust as far as sword skills, and you’re still learning so you can at least get better. He keeps falling back into basic fencing habits. Amanda learned original swordplay, no fancy moves, no flashy techniques. You pick up your sword and you cut him then you kill him. It! I meant it,” she flushed and looked away.

“Nightmares, huh?” he asked after a minute of silence.

She looked up at him, startled, but didn’t deny anything.

“Me too,” was all he said.

“But what are you doing running in the middle of the night, though, Xan! It’s dangerous at night, you should know!” Buffy said, still concerned for her friend.

“It’s not in the middle of the night, Buff,” Xander said with a reassuring smile, “It’s close to sunrise. Vamps don’t dare to stay out this late, and the demons are still asleep like most humans. This is the safest time.”

Buffy thought about a minute, and realized he was right, feeling the icy grip concern had around her heart ease up. “Please be careful,” she pleaded.

“Careful is my middle name, don’t worry,” Xander reassured her again, and Buffy nodded.

“I thought it was Lavelle?” she asked with an impish grin.

“I’m gonna kill Willow for letting that slip,” he said with a groan.

“Oops,” Buffy said, mortified, now remembering Willow had sworn not to tell anyone including Xander she knew his middle name.

They walked another block before either of them said anything else.

“Willow know?” she asked. He nodded.

“She wants to learn the demon killing magic that Kuchiki used that night. I made her promise to learn earth-bound magic first and to make sure she learned it safely, no shortcuts first. Sides, I don’t think I could do it, much less teach any of it to her.”

“What time do you go running most days?” Buffy asked him as they got to her street.

“Wake up about 5AM, do stretching and so forth for about half an hour and eat a light breakfast, then I run to the park, do some sword and martial arts training, then I run some more, do some more stretching, then I run back and take a shower just in time to get ready for school. I plan on catching up on sleep in History and Free Period. Then, usually, seeing as we haven’t yet had a big research party since Halloween, I do most of my martial arts and sword training in the afternoon, while Willow works with reading up on magic and helps me with homework, then we meet you at the Bronze, do a quick sweeping patrol, then I do easy exercises; push-ups, sit-ups, strength training and those sorts of things.”

“How about I join you?” she offered. He just smiled and nodded. He wondered about signs as it just so happened that at that moment, the sun came up over the horizon, directly behind the blonde Slayer’s head.

*****

Since their agreement, Xander and Willow had begun walking to school together. Normally that would be quite a hike for him as they lived in completely different parts of town, but since he was running in the mornings anyway, he didn’t mind that so much these days.

When he popped up on her balcony at 7AM on the dot, she briefly wondered about the grin that was occupying his face. Then she didn’t have to wonder as he blurted out the reason the moment she opened the doors for him.

“I ran into Buffy this morning, we dusted some vamps that had been trying to ambush her, she saw me use my sword, and I had to tell her everything,” he said all in one breath, then started gasping. “I swear, I don’t know, how you, do that, Willow,” he gasped between heaving breaths.

“Greater lung capacity,” she replied shortly, then asked, “Buffy knows? About . . . well, about everything? Everything everything?”

He just nodded, still getting his breath back, but he managed, “All except our pact to keep her safe.”

“OK, how’d she take it? Is she gonna tell Giles?” He shook his head. “No, she didn’t take it well, or no she’s not gonna tell Giles?” He held up his hand in the Peace sign. “XANDER!”

“All . . . right . . . geez, gimme a sec Wills!” he gasped.

“Oh stop it, you didn’t even say thirty words!” she admonished him.

“She actually took it pretty well,” he finally stopped his gasping. “She wants to join me for my morning runs and has offered to spar with me and actually requested /my/ help in /her/ sword training!”

“So, she’s not gonna tell Giles?” Willow clarified. He just shook his head again.

“Oh good,” the redhead gasped.

After about a minute of standing there, she then asked him, “Now what?”

“Now,” Xander shrugged, “we pick up where we left off. You said last night that you found this meditation technique that is supposed to allow a person to sense their own spiritual awareness, right? Sort of opening the third eye or something like that?”

“Something like that,” she nodded. “It’s actually designed to teach novices how to access their spiritual senses and at the same time increase the potency, or effectiveness of those senses. Most people refer to spiritual senses as the Third Eye, but basically it is nothing more than spiritual awareness, being /aware/ of the spirit world and the spirits around us all the time. I think it can help with sensing what Byakuya called /reiatsu/.”

“Here, I can show you that it’s not harmful in the least and I can walk you through it in like five minutes!” she excitedly pulled him to the floor of the bedroom.

Chuckling at his friend’s enthusiasm, Xander sat down and crossed his legs and paid close attention as Willow began to show him the meditation that was supposed to increase their spiritual awareness, or at the very least show them how to use it.

*****

Abandoned Warehouse

Drusilla was sobbing inconsolably. She’d broken all her dollies, then she’d staked and dusted all the remainder of her minions, those that had been trying to kill her anyway, which had been all of them. Now she was all alone and even Miss Edith wasn’t speaking to her any longer. She needed her daddy. She needed her Spike. Fuck, she’d even settle for grandmummy and that bitch had gotten herself staked over a year ago!

She knew though. She knew that her new Hobbit in the Night was going to help her. He’d come and make her strong and he would be so powerful. She just had to be patient.

She would find him soon, and once she did, all she had to do was sing softly to him and take him in her arms and give him the Gift of the Night and he would be hers, then he would take her and make her his. Ohhh . . . it was going to be so /wonderful/!

She just had to be patient.

The sun would be setting soon, and she would find her Hobbit in the Night . . .