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Immortal Phoenix, Always Alone

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Summary: Buffy falls through Glory’s portal, ending up in Westchester, where her cousin Scott Summer claims she’s dead, but wait, she doesn’t have a cousin Scott. Vampire slaying, a man named Wolverine with Initiative dog tags, and a strange prophecy about a seer.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Marvel Universe > X-Men > Buffy-CenteredAsarStarFR15212,943085,25123 Apr 0830 Apr 08No

Part 1

Immortal Phoenix, Always Alone
Disclaimer: I don’t own Buffy the Vampire Slayer and it’s subsequent properties (i.e. characters you may recognize) nor do I own X-men and its subsequent properties (i.e. X-men characters). I do own characters you don’t recognize and this plot, so don’t steal, it’s mean and wrong. The opening speech is borrowed heavily from the season 5 episode “The Gift,” but everybody knows that, because this has been played with so many times.
Spoilers: For Buffy~~> End of Season Five……For X-men~~>End of first X-men movie
Summary: Buffy falls through Glory’s portal, ending up in Westchester, where her cousin Scott Summer claims she’s dead, but wait, she doesn’t have a cousin Scott. Vampire slaying, a guy named Wolverine wearing Initiative dog tags, and a strange prophecy about a healing prophet, plus, suddenly she’s the ‘Phoenix.’
A/N: I have to say, I didn’t actually plan on posting this. I wrote this first part ages ago. Wrote the second and final part, had my computer crash, and couldn’t bring myself to begin the second part again, so I let the story die. I’m finishing up my second year of college now (at least four, maybe five years since I actually wrote most of this), the starting with Buffy dieing seemed really old then, I guess its an ancient plot line now, and I apologize if I don’t do it justice, but I really did like how this story started. Here’s to me trying to get things finished up this summer.


Happiness is found in the frozen food section, where they keep the ice-cream.

--Emily (the girl who plays the Amy Abbott from Everwood)


Buffy turned back to Dawn as Dawn continued staring at the portal far below them.

“I'm sorry,” Dawn said tearfully.

“It doesn't matter,” Buffy told her.

Dawn tried to run past Buffy, but Buffy grabbed her.

“What are you doing?” Buffy asked.

“I have to jump. The energy,” Dawn answered.

“It'll kill you,” Buffy told her.

“I know,” she said softly. “Buffy, I know about the ritual. I have to stop it.

“No,” Buffy said.

The tower shook underneath them, making them both stumble.

“I have to. Look at what's happening,” Dawn answered.

More lightning crackled, even larger than before. Buffy looked up. A huge dragon flew out of the portal, flying away as they watched.

“Buffy, you have to let me go. Blood starts it, and until the blood stops flowing, it'll never stop,” Dawn said, trying to pull away. “You know you have to let me. It has to have the blood.”

Buffy gets a realization look on her face. Remember something Spike said earlier that day.

“Cause it's always got to be blood,” he said mid pace.

She continued to remember to when Dawn was attacked by Glory in the hospital. Buffy putt her hand to the wound in her shoulder, then pressed it against Dawn's bloody hand.

“It's Summers blood. It's just like mine,” she had told Dawn.

Then she remembered something she’d told the others earlier

“She's me. The monks made her out of me.”

And finally she could hear her conversation with the First Slayer.

“Death is your gift.”


“ your gift.”

She frowned and turned around slowly. Below them, holes seem to be opening in the sky. The sky grew lighter as the sun tried to rise. She took on a peaceful look, as she turned back to Dawn, who stared at her wide-eyed.

“Buffy ... no!” she screamed, knowing what Buffy was about to do.

“Dawnie, I have to,” Buffy told her, holding back the tears she’d been holding back these last few years.

“No!” Dawn screamed again.

“Listen to me. Please, there's not a lot of time, listen,” Buffy said calmly.

Buffy continued to tell her something, and the tears streamed in rivers down Dawn’s face at her sister’s words. Buffy touched the side of Dawn’s face lightly and kissed her cheek, before turning.

She ran off the edge of the platform; Dawn stayed behind crying. She swan-dived into the portal, when she went through it, she froze mid fall, her pain all too apparent in her expression.

“Dawn, listen to me. Listen. I love you. I will always love you. But this is the work that I have to do. Tell Giles ... tell Giles I figured it out. And, and I'm okay. And give my love to my friends. You have to take care of them now. You have to take care of each other. You have to be strong. Dawn, the hardest thing in this world ... is to live in it. Be brave. Live. For me.”

The sun started to rise. Willow and Tara, held each other up, and walked forward, behind them Giles came forward too, and Xander holding Anya in his arms. They all walked forward, staring at Buffy’s lifeless body lying amid the debris.

In the graveyard, it was so pretty, sunny with lots of trees and grass. A small bunch of flowers lay on the grass in front of a headstone.



Things passed in Sunnydale, there was nothing to do but go on with their lives. A new slayer was sent to protect the hellmouth. The Scoobies tried to help her, but she was a company girl, did everything her watcher told her, followed the directions of the Council, so they finally got the normal lives they never had a chance of. Sure, sometimes they staked a vampire or two, but that was rare if ever.

Spike kept his promise to Buffy and protected Dawn. Xander and Anya got married; he took job nine-to-five, suit and all. The high school was rebuilt, and Willow got a job as the computer teacher.

Soon, Dawn was on her way to college in the east, that same year, Xander was transferred to San Diego, they got news that Faith had died, Spike went on a quest to gain a permanent soul, and Giles moved back to England. Another slayer came, but they didn’t have anything to do with that anymore.

Dawn got married to a nice man from Boston, got her stuff, sold the house, and moved there, close to his family; she didn’t really have one anymore. Spike took up work with Angel. Xander and Anya had twins. Willow and Tara broke up. Tara moved to New York, and Willow joined the Peace Corps.

Dawn and her husband moved to Madrid and had a daughter. Her name was Buffy Anne, the name of the person that had left none of their minds, none of their hearts, during all their lives.

After going through their part of the fight against darkness, their lives prospered, they had happily ever after endings, but they always wondered in the back of their minds, what if…

It affected Dawn the most, she always felt that it should have been her, but she did what Buffy told her to do; she lived. She lived every day like it was her last, and taught her children, when they were older, that the things made up for television did exist, to watch out, and then she taught them to fight it.

These lessons they passed onto their children and their children passed it on to their children, they started a new line of demon hunters. When she died, at the age of a hundred and ten, she was the last of the Scoobies to pass on, her powers as the key remained on the earth, and as a gift from the Powers, they were handed on to her daughter, who would pass it on to her daughter and her daughter would pass it on to hers and so on, allowing each to pass on to heaven, where, in Dawn’s case, she would be reunited with her husband and all her other loved ones, but mostly her sister.

But unfortunately that was not to be, it wasn’t her Buffy that she met up with, but another one, exactly like the one she knew, but different somehow. When Buffy went through the portal, she didn’t die. She passed on to another world, never to meet up with her loved ones in the great beyond, ever, at least not her loved ones in her world’s heaven.

Death is your gift.

If that was her gift, why was it taking so long, why wouldn’t it stop the pain? These were her thoughts as she fell, fell through the darkness, and fell through the nothing. She’d been falling for hours, days, weeks, months, years, centuries; she’d lost all concept of time.

Then, suddenly, the black went black; the nothingness faded away to…more nothingness…

She found herself in the desert. It was night, there was a fire burning, and the First Slayer was there.

“Death is your gift,” the First Slayer told her.

“Yeah, right, then why the hell aren’t I dead yet?” she screamed at the white painted face of the woman in front of her.

“You are meant to live,” the First Slayer answered, coming up right in front of her, moving in her primal way.

“Then death isn’t my gift,” she quipped.

“Death is your gift,” the woman repeated.

“Stop saying that, I get what you mean by it now, but it isn’t my gift. It can’t be, I’m not dead,” she said, changing the need to cry into anger, into pure rage, something so strong she’d never felt before. “I’m really starting to think I’m never gonna die, so can I like go now? My friends are probably getting worried.”

“They believe you to be dead,” the woman told her, as visions of her funeral passed through her mind.

“No! It’s not true, if it is, that means I’m just a memory, like you, and there is no way I’m gonna live here forever as a memory, that just isn’t gonna happen,” she ranted.

“But you aren’t here,” the woman said cryptically.

“Obviously I am!” she yelled back.

“Death is your gift,” the ancient slayer told her again.

Death is not my gift!” she screamed back, suddenly ramming her fist into the other slayer’s face, starting an all out battle.

Xavier watched the small blond move with precision and accuracy. He couldn’t see what she fought against so confidently on the west field of the school, but he could feel it, a spirit of sorts. The being fought back, its moves crude and savage compared to the small blond woman’s.

“Professor?” one of his students said, pulling his attention away from the window.

“Excuse me, class, I have something urgent to take care of, no homework tonight, just study for the test Monday,” he said, leaving the room as he sent out a message for the X-men to meet him out where the woman was.

“Who is she fighting?” Scott asked when he, Jean, and Ororo had met the Professor out on the west field.

They weren’t that far from her, no less than fifty feet, but she didn’t take any notice of them, only continued to fight.

“It is a spirit of some sort, I cannot reach it though,” Professor Xavier answered. “I can only feel it.”

“I can feel it too,” Jean told him.

“My gift is not death!” the blond woman screamed again.

She took the upper hand, a sword appeared in her hand, and she towered over her invisible foe, glaring.

“Tell me,” she commanded. “Tell me how we started. How did the line of Slayers start? Why me?”

The tears fell freely now, she gave up trying to hold them in. The anger was gone, replaced with a strange calmness, the question that had haunted her since the beginning was finally off her chest. This was someone who might be able to answer her, try as he might, Giles’s babble about the Chosen One just didn’t cut it; she needed real answers. The First Slayer took advantage of this sudden calmness and kicked out at her, sending her flying backwards, the sword vanishing.

“You were chosen because you are strong; you are destined to become the greatest slayer to ever live, you’ve already lived through more as slayer than any of us. Your strength will only grow with time. Your gift is death, but first you must fulfill your destiny,” the First Slayer told her taking several steps towards her. “You have saved your world, now it is time to save hers, you will take her place. You have died twice, now you must live. You are the phoenix, she was not. The phoenix is reborn when she dies; she comes back stronger each time. You are the reincarnating bird!

The girl had gone flying back, proving to Scott and Ororo, if they didn’t believe the Professor and Jean that the woman was definitely fighting against something. They took this time to start moving towards her. They made it to about ten feet away, when she flipped up back onto her feet and crouched down, sending a low roundhouse at her opponent.

“Who is she?” the woman yelled, standing up straight, holding her head high, as the tears ran like rivers down her face. “You know what, it doesn’t matter, I’m not her, I’m me, and I won’t do it again, I won’t live another life. I’m tired. You can just take this stupid destiny and shove it, because I don’t want it. I’ve done my part, I’ve saved the world God knows how many times, and it’s my turn to go now, let the next one help her. Fuck destiny, tell the Powers I quit. I won’t do it any more. No more Slayer!

She closed her eyes for a minute. The ‘being’ must have attacked her again, because she started blocking attacks. No hits made it, she blocked with precision, though her eyes were closed tightly and she moved only as necessary, remaining still between each movement.

“You’re right, I can’t quit, but that doesn’t mean I have to listen to fate and destiny,” she said calmly, bringing her arms to her side, standing perfectly still.

She suddenly opened her eyes; she was looking straight at them.

“So this is what she meant by me not being there,” she thought aloud, as she walked towards them. “Could you tell me where I am?”

She looked to be in her early twenties, though her eyes told an entirely different story, one of someone who’d seen too much, the kind of stuff that no one should ever have to see.

“This is Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, and I am Professor Xavier,” the older man in the wheelchair told her. “And who may I ask are you?”

He seemed nice enough, but so had some of the people she’d fought.

“I’m Buffy, Buffy Summers,” she answered, he had told her who he was. “Hey, this isn’t one of those schools for really smart kids is it? ‘Cause if it is, I think the Powers found something stronger to smoke lately.”

“Buffy? It can’t be, you died over a month ago,” the other man said, he was wearing rose colored sunglasses, she wondered for a second if he liked to pretend to ‘see the world through rose colored glasses,’ as the saying went.

“A month, wow, time sure does fly by when you’re falling though blackness. Who are you, and how do you know I died?” she asked, it was way too creepy, random people in another world knowing that she died.

“It’s me, Scott,” he told her, she continued to give him a look of ‘and that means what to me?’ “You’re cousin.”

“I don’t have any cousins named Scott, there’s a Sean, Steve, Simon, Steven, Stephan, Samuel, and even Sebastian, but nooooo cousins named Scott, oh—wait, there’s a Sandy too, but she doesn’t really count as a Scott, does she?” she answered, since when did she have a cousin named Scott, then it hit her, she’d changed worlds the ‘she’ she’d asked the First Slayer about was her from this other world, their ‘Buffy’ had taken her place coming through the portal, that was who her friends had buried thinking she was dead. “Oh, you’re her cousin; well the Buffy of this world kind of left the building, and I’m supposedly here to take her place. I should probably tell you though; she died saving the world, seeing as I doubt you know how exactly she died. The same way I was supposed too, only, instead of dying, I ended up here.”

The guy in the sunglasses, Scott, looked like he didn’t want to believe her, he obviously hadn’t heard about the whole slayer thing. The red headed woman put her arm around him in a comforting way, the white haired lady just watched, unsure what to do, and the older man looked at her in an understanding sort of way, and that was when  she started feeling it, someone was trying to read her mind, he was trying to read her mind.

“Stop it,” she said glaring at him. “Don’t even try reading my mind, things like that can have really bad repercussions, I had to learn that the hard way.”

“I cannot read your mind as it is,” he told her. “You have a very strong mental defense.”

“It’s the magic. Can’t leave any defense open for attack,” she said simply. Then, to Scott she said, “Look, I don’t know how close you and the Buffy of this world were, but I’m guessing she left you out on our big secret.”

He looked like he was going to say something, but the sound of a motorcycle pulling into the driveway interrupted them.

“Ah, Logan is back, we should go inside, he will want to speak with me,” the Professor said as he started for the nearest door inside. “Miss Summers, you may stay here as long as you need to, I believe you and Scott have some talking to do.”

“Hey, wait a minute, you never answered me about what kind of school this is,” she said chasing after him, the other three following at a slower pace.

“Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters is a school for children with special powers, you have demonstrated this type of power already,” he said as she followed him through the door and towards the entrance hall, where Logan already was.

“So what, this is a school for kids with Slayer powers, that doesn’t sound right. No offense or anything, but Slayer powers are a one girl in every generation kind of thing,” she replied, not knowing that he didn’t know she was the Slayer and not a mutant. “Well, actually, a two girl thing as long as Faith and I are both alive.”

“No,” he told her, stopping suddenly, turning to face her, “children with unnatural powers, caused by a mutation in the DNA. I myself am telepathic, as you have already seen.”

“Oh, well then, I really am in the wrong place. See, my stuff all comes from magic,” she corrected him. “Slayers are a magic thing; we’re called on to fight the things that go bump in the night. There’s one girl in every generation, when one dies, the next one’s called. Mutants don’t exist; I drew the line at vampires and hell goddesses and magical balls of energy that are keys to open the gates to all dimensions.”

“Mutants do to exist,” he told her, once again going on his way.

“Next thing you’ll be telling me is that the X-men aren’t just a comic book Xander was trying to tell me about,” a small blond said following Professor Xavier into the entrance hall, where he was standing. Suddenly a look of realization passed over her face, “only on the hellmouth could this happen, I’ve been sucked into a frickin’ comic book. The Powers better hope they never meet me, I’ll—I’ll kill them. Ugh, they must have known I wasn’t listening to Xander.”

“Finally, another person who’s got it in for them,” Logan said.

“More like they’ve got it in for me,” she said turning to him, with a laugh and a grim smile, she added, “Death is my gift.”


She was different, she could feel it; she was changing. After the Master had killed her, and Xander brought her back, she felt stronger, but she also felt like she was slightly different, the fight moved higher on her list of priorities, and the need for a normal life started going down. Now, she was stronger, she had more power than ever before, even when she and the others had done that spell to give her the strength to defeat Adam. The need to fight pulsed through her veins. She would find away to get out and hunt after sunset. There were vampires nearby, and all she had to do was find them. She could grab a branch off one of the trees out there, that would do in place of a stake, or a pencil, it would probably be easier to have a few of those, but then again, she could feel the familiar push of Mr. Pointy against her ankle, tucked away in her boot. Perfect, she’d forgotten she’d slipped the stake into her boot before she went after Glory, it’d be a help till she got some more stakes made.

“Buffy,” the red haired woman said, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Hmm, what?” she mumbled, looking around, everyone had gone on their way, except the man she guessed was Xander’s favorite character, Wolverine, and a girl with brown hair with a white stripe in the front, both of whom were talking several yards away. She could hear what they were saying, but she tuned out so that she wouldn’t listen in.

“Come on, I’ll show you to your room, and then we can go shopping, you’ll need some other clothes while you’re here,” the woman said with a smile, before turning and heading towards the stairs, with Buffy following for lack of anything else to do.

“So, who are you?” Buffy asked as they walked down a long empty hallway, she guessed this was the hall where the teachers’ rooms were, a hall with students’ rooms would be busy so late in the afternoon.

“I’m Jean Grey,” she smiled, stopping in front of one of the doors.

“Wow, this is really nice for a teacher’s room” Buffy mumbled, forcing herself to stop the sentence there, as she felt herself begin to channel her favorite redheaded witch, as she followed Jean into the room.


“So why are you doing this?” Buffy asked as they walked into the third store, their arms already filled with bags.

“I thought we should get to know each other,” Jean answered. “Since it looks like you’ll be staying at the school for a—”

“Scott asked you to?” Buffy interrupted.

“That too, but I was going to anyways, you obviously didn’t have any belongings with you,” Jean told her, grabbing a baby blue t-shirt, holding it up towards Buffy. “This should look nice on you, you need more color.”

“I have color,” Buffy pouted.

“A single dark green shirt, you need more color,” Jean smiled, pushing Buffy towards the dressing rooms, the t-shirt now in Buffy’s hands.

“But it’s easier to blend in with dark colors,” Buffy muttered, closing the dressing room door.


It was sunset by the time they returned to the school. Buffy told Jean she was going to change and then go for a walk, but Jean told her it was dinner time, and she suddenly realized how hungry she was.

Dinner was taken in a large room, all the students were there. The Professor had told the students who she was (“Buffy Summers, a cousin of Mr. Summers, will be staying at the school for a while”) before dinner, and now she was sitting with Scott, Jean, the white haired lady (Ororo), the guy she guessed was Wolverine (he’d introduced himself as Logan, so she didn’t say anything about the other name), the girl she’d seen with him earlier (a student named Rogue), and a blond haired boy named Bobby, who was there because Rogue was. The Professor had already excused himself, claiming that he had some work to do.

“Logan, did you find anything you were looking for?” Rogue asked, after a while of only mindless chitchat at the table.

“Just a bunch of ruins,” he answered between bites.

Buffy looked up, wondering he had been looking for. He was right across from her, so when she looked up, her eyes immediately saw the familiar dog tags hanging around his neck.

He looked up, feeling someone watching him. It was Scott’s cousin, at least that’s what everyone said, even though she looked as though she had something to say about it; her eyes were lower than his face, looking intently at the dog tags Rogue had given back to him earlier.

“You know Riley Finn?” she asked him suddenly, looking him right in the eye, as though she were trying to determine if he was one of the good guys or not.

“Who?” was his response, covering up perfectly how her gaze was unsettling him.

“Finn, he was the leader of the hellmouth field team,” she answered. Then, letting her eyes go back to his dog tags again, she added, “They were supposed to be a big deal with you guys.”

The rest of the table was watching her, listening, waiting to find out what she was talking about. But Loganknew, she was talking about the people the dog tags had come from, finally some one who knew something.

“Who are they?” he growled.

“You should know, you are wearing their dog tags, anyways your not allowed to talk about it in front of civs,” she shrugged, leaning her head towards the others. Then, to everyone, “If you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna take a walk before going to bed, ok?”

She didn’t wait for a response, instead started to leave, stopping suddenly.

“Something’s coming, something big, try and keep everyone inside after dark,” she told Scott, before leaving.


“Whatchya doin’?” Buffy asked, jumping off the top of a mausoleum, landing right in front of two vampires about to bite into a dark haired man.

“About to have dinner, looks like we’ve found the appetizer,” one, who she guessed was the younger one (the other seemed to know who she was and was slightly weary of her), told her, dropping his hold on the man.

“Don’t be stupid, that’s the slayer,” the other one warned.

“Don’t be daft, she’s just a myth,” the first answered, turning back to his friend, missing Buffy pulling Mr. Pointy out of her pocket.

“Myths don’t kill,” she said, wiping his dust off her pants.

“How ‘bout we make a deal?” the vampire offered, backing up a few steps. “Um…how ‘bout you let me go?”

“What’s in it for me?” she asked walking towards him, twirling Mr. Pointy.

“I won’t tell anybody you’re here?” he offered feebly.

“Nah, that deal kinda screws me over. How about…you tell me what big bad is gonna try and take over, and I make sure it’s quick,” she offered back, taking another step towards him. “So, what is it another demon after the apocalypse? World domination? What? Tell me.”

“It’s Drusilla, she’s getting together with one of the reborn masters,” he said quickly.

“Dru? Oh, come on, her, again?” Buffy groaned. “Anything else?”

“She’s planning on opening another hellmouth an-and then starting an apocalypse from there,” he answered.

“Why can’t they just stick with the already opened hellmouth?” Buffy asked herself after she’d staked the vampire, noting how wimpy he was.

She felt it suddenly; someone was nearby, too close for comfort. She’d felt them following her, but now they were closer.

“Do you usually hunt mutants?” asked a deep voice, without even turning around she recognized it as Logan.

“That would be a yes, if they were mutants,” she quipped, smelling the sent of a cigar. “And I’m not hunting, I’m slaying.”

“What were they then?” he asked, he was so close now; she could feel him right behind her. “And from where I’m standing it sure looked like hunting.”

“Vampires, of the demon sort,” she answered, spinning around quickly, finding herself face only inches from his.

Vampires,” he repeated disbelievingly.

“Yeah, well, actually, I don’t know about you guys, but that’s where most of my focus ends up going, aren’t you guys supposed to be more general demon oriented?” she asked, taking a step back.

“Who are they?” he growled, grabbing her wrist.

“What, don’t you know who you work for?” she asked, still angry at the Initiative, no way she’d be nice to one of them, pulling her wrist out of his grasp with a force he hadn’t expected.

Who are they?” he asked again, allowing some of his anger seep into his voice, grabbing her arm again, this time prepared for the small portion of her strength he knew about.

“If you don’t know, then why are you wearing these?” she asked sharply, grabbing hold of his dog tags with her free arm.

“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?” he growled, leaning down so that his face was once again only inches from hers

“Initiative, standard issue dog tags,” she answered simply.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he said, letting go of her wrist, taking a step away.

“Yeah, it was,” she said simply, before sending a roundhouse right at his chest, sending him flying backwards into the mausoleum, leaving a man shaped imprint in the concrete.

He stood up; he hadn’t anticipated her strength that was his biggest mistake. He let his claws out and took a fighting stance as she moved into a fighting stance of her own.

“You have claws? Hmm, I forgot that,” she said, more to herself than to him.

“And you would know that how?” he growled, how would she know about him having claws, as far as he knew they’d never met, and she was too young to be someone from before he lost his memory.

“My friend Xander was one of your fans, but then again, where I’m from, you’re just a comic book character, so it’s not really you he’s a fan of,” she rambled, ducking away from a clawed punch aiming for her head.

They fought for a few minutes, and stopped suddenly when they bother picked up the sound of something growling. A large person came out from behind a tome, carrying a large stone hammer.

“Slayer,” he growled pointing at her with a clenched fist.

“You again?” Buffy groaned, throwing in a sigh for effect, she obviously knew this guy.

“You stole my hammer and made a fool of me, you will pay,” he yelled.

“One, you’re holding a hammer, two, it’s not my fault you couldn’t hold your own in a fight against me, three, I didn’t make a fool of you, actually everyone was pretty scared, they didn’t bother to think about how much of a fool you were making of yourself, and four, you left it, I didn’t steal it,” she pointed out.

He didn’t respond, just charged her. She dodged him and knocked him down with a kick to the back. He got back up and swung his hammer at Buffy, unfortunately for her he struck her in the side. Logan might not have liked Buffy all that much at the moment, but that didn’t mean he was going to stand around while this guy tried to kill her, that was his job at the moment. He immediately jumped into the fray and shoved his claws right into the guy’s stomach, before he could attack Buffy while she was still on the ground.

He dropped the hammer more in surprise at Logan’s attack than anything else, people just don’t have claws. Out of the corner of his eye, Logan watched Buffy jump up and grab the hammer, as he fought. He took a step back as she came at the other guy, swinging the stone hammer.

She struck dead on, hitting him in the head, knocking him out.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anyone who knows magic, would you?” she asked looking at Logan with a girl smile.

“No,” he growled, hiding the fact that he was wondering how she knew the guy.

“Know any magic shops then, they might be able to help. I’m not the magic type, but I’m supposed to have what it takes, if I could find the spell, we could send him back to his dimension,” she told him, before nudging the unconscious man with her foot.

“There’s one in the city,” he told her, still in his growl-like tone, and after a small pause, he asked, “When did this become a we thing? How did get I pulled into this?”

“You know, and there’s no way I’m telling the others back at that school. Especially since I’m supposedly Scott Summer’s cousin, they’ll all tell him, and according to Jean, he was close to me—she—whoever. Can’t risk anyone else, I won’t do it,” she said, glaring at him.

“They can hold their own in a fight,” he said, silently cursing himself for standing up for Scott.

“I don’t doubt that, but they’d want to help and I work better alone. I can’t be worrying about anybody else while I’m fighting, I’ve tried that, it makes it really hard to save the world. You’ve got some kind of healing thing going on; otherwise you would have been out cold when I kicked you against the crypt, so I’m not so worried about you,” she told him, before she started moving the unconscious guy towards the nearest crypt door. Looking back at him, she asked, “Now, could you help me move him into that crypt? He’s kind of awkward to move.”

After they’d moved Olaf into the crypt, they came out and Buffy grabbed his hammer and Mr. Pointy from the ground. After slipping Mr. Pointy into her boot, she reminded him they had a fight to finish off, fully in the mood to get it over with as soon as possible, knowing that if they didn’t do it now, it would come up during a really bad time. She leaned the hammer against a tree, before they started fighting once again.

“You know you should come with a warning label,” he told her, they’d caught each other in a stale mate; they’d caught each other’s arms so neither could attack the other.

“That’s what I’ve been told,” she grinned, suddenly finding herself pushing down her thoughts about how cute he looked and how close they were. “You know we have to get over this fighting thing, maybe we should call a truce.”

“How ‘bout this?” he grunted, before leaning towards her and kissing her.

He wasn’t sure why he did it, and when he started to pull a way, he stopped because she kissed him back.

“Ok, that works,” Buffy said, after they pulled apart a second later. She had no intention of taking it any further than that, and was absolutely certain he felt the same way. It was a tension breaker, that was exactly what it was. “I-we-I need to finish patrolling, there are more vampires out there.”

“I’ll help,” he offered, trying to ignore the fact that they were still only inches apart and still had each other’s arms in a lock.

They released each other and started walking. There weren’t any more vampires in the cemetery. It was only ten, so Buffy asked if there were any open clubs or bars nearby. Altogether they only killed four vampires, it was a slow night. There was a little information on what Drusilla was doing. The master that she was supposedly working with wasn’t even raised yet. The rising of the master alone was prophesied to open the mouth of hell and bring hell to earth.

They talked a little as they walked from place to place, little things; she avoided how she got there. She told him about Sunnydale and her friends, but avoided big things like Angel and Glory and Dawn being the key. He told her how he was looking for his past, and she listened and told him that after she stopped Drusilla and the ‘master,’ she’d help him if he wanted.


The next morning

Through the kitchen window, Scott could see Logan and Buffy run past on the track around the school for the third time that morning. He got the feeling there was something big to her secret, she was keeping up with Logan and hadn’t even started breaking a sweat. About the fourth time around they stopped, still talking as Buffy tied her boot.

“I don’t like it,” he told Jean for the tenth time.

“Don’t like what?” she asked, she knew what he was talking about; he knew she did, but he did pick up the point, she didn’t want to hear it again.


Seconds earlier

“There’s a magic shop in the city, I’ve passed it a few times,” Logan told Buffy as they continued to run a pace no normal person would have been able to keep up for more than a few seconds.

“You don’t mind taking me there later do you? They should have the spell to send Olaf back to that dimension for trolls, and maybe a book with this prophecy, that vampire said Larualaine prophesied it right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he grunted.

“Good, names always help.”

“You should tell the others, they could help.”

“Hold on a sec. You know, you said that already, you also said you wouldn’t again,” she told him, stopping to retie her boot.

“Yeah, I know,” he grunted, waiting for her to finish tying her shoe.

“Just checking,” she grinned, standing back up.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Uh-huh,” she nodded as they started running again.     



Dragon Wings (Store for rare and occasionally magical items), New York City

“Scared of the things that people say/Knowing my confidence might fail/I feel the world’s weight upon my breaking back/I see the uncertainty and the visible cracks,” a light-brown haired sixteen-year-old sang along with the radio as she dusted the higher shelves in her magic shop. “Silver lining/I bathe in your light/I’ll always believe in your place in my life/Silver lining/I know that I’m right/I’ll always believe in your right to –”

The radio stopped suddenly and magical items began floating around her.

Stop!” she screamed. “I command thee to stop this instant, Gaea, goddess of oracles and healing, protect me from the evil that haunts me.”

Everything went back to their places, except for one thing, an Orb of Thessula, which floated right in front of her face. The radio turned back on, and the song finished.

“The healing blood of the seer spilt on evil grounds by the dead mystic shall open the mouth of hell, releasing it upon the earth,” the voice of a girl told her, before the Orb of Thessula went flying at her head and knocked her out.


That afternoon

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Logan told Buffy, after he’d parked the jeep in front of the magic shop Dragon Wings.

“You’re getting it too,” Buffy stated, noting to herself that he could pick up things and wondering mildly if it had anything to do with the odd werewolf vibes she was picking up off of him, as she got out of the jeep and walked around to the sidewalk.

“Yeah,” he nodded, also getting out.

“It’s probably owned by a demon, they often are, but they’re nice demons that own magic shops. Not all demons are bad, most are, but some aren’t,” she told him, seeing that he was about to put his claws out, “Keep the claws hidden, we don’t want to alert them that something’s wrong.”

He looked at her like she was nuts.

“Some demons might be good, but that doesn’t mean that they won’t tell other demons, when something is wrong,” she explained. “We should probably go in though.”

The moment they opened the door, an unfamiliar sent attacked his senses. He glanced at Buffy; she didn’t seem to notice it at all.

“It’s a mixture of magical cleaning supplies, dried dragon scales, and burned rosemary and lilac incense,” she told him, he hadn’t smelled any of them before, so he only nodded in acknowledgment.

They walked down a hall lined with glass cases of strange looking things; he paused for a second when he thought he saw a mummified hand. He looked at Buffy who nodded that it was indeed a mummified hand. They continued into a large room with open shelves with more strange items. This was where the bad feeling was coming from.

Suddenly, Buffy put a hand in front of him as he started walking forwards. There was a teenager with light brown hair unconscious on the floor. There was something about her; she didn’t him the same feeling as the people at Xavier’s school, but it was also nothing like the vampires they’d staked the night before.

“She’s still alive,” Buffy told him, holding her fingers to the girl’s neck to feel for a pulse.

The girl lying on the floor started shaking hard.

“Look for a first aid kit, there’s usually one behind the counter,” Buffy told him, pointing to the counter with the register sitting on it, while she tried to wake the girl.

“Sight to know, touch to heal, fire to give life, and the blood to heal,” the girl chanted over and over, her eyes open wide in fear.

“Excuse me, I know the chanting is important, but could you respond somehow?” Buffy asked the girl over her chanting, it suddenly caught Logan’s attention that she was cute.

The girl turned her head towards Buffy and grabbed her hand.

“In the dark the phoenix will die and be reborn in flame to fight the dead, but only the healing blood of one who sees shall save the world doomed to burn,” she told Buffy, her eyes flashing entirely black before going back to the normal emerald irises and white. “Who are you?”

“I’m Buffy, that’s Logan,” Buffy told her, motioning to him, as he walked over, first aid kit in hand.

“The slayer and the wolf,” the girl mumbled, pushing herself to her feet. “The-they told me you would come.”

“Who?” Buffy asked, helping the girl over to the large wooden table and taking the first-aid kit from Logan, as he watched the girl.

“Th-the Powers, they s-said you w-would help me,” she stuttered, as Buffy opened the first-aid kit and started to tend to a cut on the girl’s arm. She reached out and grabbed Buffy’s arm, “Don’t, it’s already gone, I heal quickly from injuries caused by my visions. I’m sorry, I f-forgot to introduce my self, I’m J-Jennifer Gordon, Jen for short, my sister owns this store, I work here with her.”

She took her index finger and wiped it over her cut, and with the blood wiped away, they could see that it was gone.

“You are looking for Larualaine,” she said, looking directly at Logan, he felt like she was looking right through him, not even seeing him.

“Yeah,” he answered, even through she hadn’t asked. “What do you know?”

“Not very much, it’s more what I’ve seen than what books say, there are two books, but they’re the same book, just two copies of the same thing. There’s only a small bit of information, but I have the book, only one copy. I had the other one, but a vampire came in carrying a puppy, scared the living daylights out of me, till I remembered I had a sharpened cross tucked in my belt. She got the other copy. Incredibly rare, two of a kind,” she babbled quickly, reminding Buffy of Willow’s babbling. “The book says nothing about when it will take place, but it’s about two months away, sometime near the end of October. Th-the book’s over there.”

She pointed to a low shelf.

“Halloween, I bet,” Buffy muttered, resisting the urge to laugh. “Only vampires mess with Halloween.”

Logan, the Professor’s voice said in his head.

Yeah? He thought back.

She knows she's in danger, her worry radiates from her. Bring her back with you, she may stay at the school, attend it even, the professor told him. She will be of quite a bit of help with the prophecy you’re helping Miss Summers with. She knows the person it speaks of.

“Jen, that shipment of mercury and nitric acid just came in,” a blond haired woman said in a light British accent, walking in from a door behind the counter with the register on it, not even looking up as she sorted through a stack of mail.

“What about the unicorn blood?” Jen asked.

“They don’t supply it anymore, so I called that shop in India that you got the last bottle from, they’re fresh out and don’t expect to have any for over a year,” the woman answered. Looking up, she saw Logan and Buffy, and asked, “Another vision?”

“Uh-huh,” Jen nodded. Then, pointing to them in turn, she told the other woman, “This is Buffy and that’s Logan, they found me.”

“’Ello, I’m Lizzie Gordon,” she told them with a smile, pulling out a pad and writing several things down. “What do we need besides unicorn blood, quicksilver, and dragon horns?”

“A buyer for that case of Orbs of Thessula,” Jen said, pointing to what looked like a glass ball to Logan lying harmlessly on the floor. “They get possessed much too easily.”

“I’ve got someone in Florence who wants them; I’ll ship them out tomorrow morning,” Lizzie told her. “Oh, Sage called about that dagger, she said she’d be coming down in a few months to pick it up, also said something about that prophecy you’ve been looking up.”

“What’d she say?” Jen asked quickly, her mouth tripping over the words in her frenzy to get them out.

“Wait a sec, she made me write it down so I didn’t forget, hold on, let me see if I can dig it out,” Lizzie said holding a finger up as she went through her pocket with her other hand in search of the piece of paper. Then, holding a slip of black paper up, she said, “here it is, okay, she said, ‘sight to know, touch to heal, fire to give life, and the blood to heal’ what ever that means. Oh, and that whatever thing this prophecy brings about won’t be the end of the phoenix, she must live, no matter what, she must live. Sage emphasized this quite a bit, you’re supposed to know who the phoenix is and pass on the message.”


It took some time for Buffy and Logan to convince Jen to go with them, but with Lizzie’s encouragement for her to go to school at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters and her promise that she’d call Jen’s cell phone if there were any updates; they were able to convince her. She’d gone to her apartment above the shop and packed what she’d need, gone around the store and grabbed everything she’d need from there, and then gone through the door behind the register, coming out with a duffel bag that made the sound of metal against metal every time she moved it. She’d told Buffy on the way that it was a bag of weapons, and that she’d need them.



Long ebony hair with red stripes flew in the wind as the metallic convertible Porsche sped down the empty street. Sage Quinlan laughed, as she swerved around the corner.

“Laurent, you’re always saying there’s something in that old church,” she laughed.

“Sage, I’m serious this time, I saw someone, something, it was blue, and it could vanish right in front of me,” the man on the other end of the phone line told her.

Right and I’m supposed to believe you this time because?” she asked disbelievingly.

“Because I’m right this time, and it’s not just a mouse,” he answered. “Just go over there, you’ll see.”

“Fine, fine,” she agreed exasperatedly, as she did a u-turn in the middle of the empty road. “I’ll call you when I’m done.”

“Mm-k,” he replied, before hanging up.

She slowed down as she moved from the unused side roads to the busy street. She could see the old cathedral up ahead, and in a matter of minutes, she was parked right in front of it.

She walked in with the movement of a person with authority, her black leather coat swinging with each step and flowing behind her in the light breeze. Her heeled black leather boots clicked on the hardwood floors. It was dark inside; just as it had been the last few times she checked it out on Laurent’s encouragement.

“Hello? Anybody here?” she called out, turning on her torch flashlight.

There was a small noise overhead, she looked up, there was a figure up there, but she couldn’t make it out.

“I know you’re up there, why don’t you just come down. I want to help you, if you’ll let me,” she told the thing. Then, suddenly squeezing her eyes closed, she screeched out, “Blood, so much blood, why won’t you let me go, please let me go!”

She was shaking, she reached out and grabbed onto the nearest thing, and at that moment it was the person that had been sitting on the rafters above her, not that she knew this, all she knew was that she was suffering a very painful vision that threatened to force her head into many tiny pieces.

Then, everything went black, the vision faded away, and she was unconscious.


Kurt Wagner, the blue mutant with the power to disappear and reappear somewhere else, stood off to the side, watching the woman, who’d intruded his solitude. She was lying on the white sheet covered alter, where he’d placed her only an hour before so that he could tend to the scrapes, cuts, and bruises mysteriously appearing on her skin.

“The healing blood of the seer spilt,” she whispered, before she started shivering.

He popped back up to the rafters and grabbed a dark green blanket. Covering her with it once he’d reappeared next to her.

She was tired and the air was cold on her bare skin. She couldn’t stop herself from shivering, and she couldn’t even pick up a line of thought to wonder why her skin was bare. Then, just as suddenly as she felt the cold air, it was gone; something soft and warm replaced it. In the back of her mind, she could remember little bits of the vision, she’d remember after she got a good night’s sleep, but knowing her that’d be days away.

Instead of opening her eyes, she felt to where the pocket of her coat would be to get her cell phone from her pocket so that she could call Laurent and tell him what happened. Rather than finding her coat, the pocket where her cell phone should be, there was nothing, except a blanket. Her eyes snapped open and she sat up quickly enough to make herself dizzy.

“You are awake,” a man with a German accent said, she couldn’t tell from where, her eyes were still unfocused and her radar was still out of whack.

“Where am I? What happened?” she asked quickly.

She was starting to panic. He moved further back into the shadows, making it impossible for her to see him, so that she didn’t get scared. She turned her head in his direction; her eyes were a silvery color that reflected the light.

“Stop moving away, I know you’re there,” she said, her voice calm and controlled, as she reached up with her left hand and felt the scrap of sheet he’d used to bandage a large cut on her right arm. “You tried to help me, come out, I won’t do anything.”

She was right, her jacket was lying on a nearby pew, and she didn’t have weapons on her that he’d noticed. She looked like she had good control, so he did as she asked, and stepped into the dim light of the candles, only feet away from her.

“’Ello,” she gave him a small smile; he took that as a good sign.

“Hey,” she nodded, taking the wrapping off her arm. “I’m Sage Quinlan, you?”

“Kurt Wagner,” he answered, the W coming out as a V. “But in de Munich circus I was known as Nightcrawler.”

“Mmm, that’s a cool name, I’m also known as Mystic, or Magi, I like Magi better, but it doesn’t really matter,” she told him, before taking a closer look at the cut on her arm. “Damn vampire bitches, give me headache.”

She looked up at him, made sure he was watching, as she put her finger tips lightly on the cut, a white light formed, and when it was gone, so was the cut.

“Lucky me, I got the healing blood, goes great with a job like mine,” she laughed lightly. Then, taking on a more serious demeanor, she told him, “You can’t stay here. It’s not safe.”

He was quiet.

“You’re used to that aren’t you? Yeah, so am I, but this time it’s big, you will die, if you don’t let me help you. That’s what my vision was about; you need to come with me. It’ll be safe,” she told him, as she turned herself so that she was sitting on the edge of the altar.

The blanket fell down to her lap, revealing her white spaghetti-strap tank-top, which had embarrassed him when he took off her coat to clean her cuts.

“Also, it’s not so cold, dark, or dank,” she added, crossing her arms over her chest. She laughed lightly, and asked, “Could you hand me my coat, I wasn’t planning on stopping anywhere on my way home, otherwise I would have put on more than a tank-top and a mini-skirt.”


“Hey Laurent,” Sage said into her cell phone, as she pushed her Porsche a good twenty miles over the speed limit for outer Boston, lucky  for her, she was on private roads, no cops to pull her over.

“Sage, you’re alive, I was starting to worry,” he replied quickly.

“Yeah, right, you just wanted first dibs at my stuff,” she laughed.

“Any luck?”

“Uh-huh, say hi to Kurt,” she said, pushing the speaker button on the phone and holding it out towards her passenger, telling Kurt, “Say hi to Laurent, he’s the guy who told me to look in the church.”

“’Ello,” Kurt said.

“See he’s nice,” she told her friend, after hitting another button on the phone and holding it up to her ear again.


The next month went by quietly for all. Near Boston, Sage provided a place for Kurt to stay at her house in the nearby town of Belmont. She and Laurent hunted down several big demons that being what she did for a living; she was a paid demon hunter, part of a large network of Demon Bounty Hunters. They all worked alone, but helped one another, when help was needed. Laurent was her connection; otherwise she’d go after the demons without any reason besides that they’re dangerous. She had a hard time explaining this to Kurt, but once he’d met Laurent and then had a run-in with one of the demons Sage was after, he understood, though never allowed himself to approve.

Things in New York weren’t quiet, but they never were, things were normal to the farthest extent that the word could be taken. Jen had slipped into the normal life of a student at the school, though just as she’d told the Professor, Jean determined that her powers didn’t come from the X gene. Buffy and Logan went out on patrol every night, never finding anything more than they already knew, except that this future master wasn’t even in New York yet.


Jennifer, would you please come to my office, you have a phone call, Professor Xavier told Jen telepathically.

Thanks, Professor, she replied, as she told the group of girls she’d been studying with that she’d be back in a little while.

“Jen,” Sage said, once Jen picked up.

“What’s up?” Jen asked.

“Have you been hearing it?” Sage asked in reply, jumping right into why she was calling.

“Yeah, you too, huh,” Jen replied.

“Right, I’ll be coming down in a month, I’ve gotta finish up a ton of things here,” Sage told her.

“Of course,” Jen agreed, recognizing the unanswered statement that Sage might not be returning to Boston that everything might end if things didn’t turn out well.

“Ok, I’ll give you a call before I come,” Sage told her.


Yes, professor?

Your cousin is welcome to stay here.

Thank you, professor.

A/N: As I said at the beginning of this chapter, I wrote this part ages ago, so it might be a short bit before I finish off with the next part, especially since I'm just starting exams in a few days.
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