Disclaimer: I am stating for the record, that these characters, much as I might wish it, are NOT mine. Sigh. They belong to the genius creator Joss Wheedon, and the wonderful people at MGM and Gekko who brought us Stargate SG1.PROLOGUE: Personality...What Personality?
In their own little slice of reality, The Powers That Be observed their most powerful champion as she fought to survive. They watched as she leapt from one building to another in her efforts to reach the safety of the city limits. She was keeping pace with the bus which was speeding just ahead of a rapidly expanding cavern as the town of Sunnydale collapsed in on itself.
For all intents and purposes, this champion should have died years ago. Had, in fact, died years ago and more than once. The situation which had brought about the battle with the First had not even been in the myriad of possibilities they had considered.
“What can I say? Free will is a bitch.” The rough Bronx accent did nothing to appease the Powers That Be. You are nothing more than a Messenger. Keep your thoughts and comments to yourself.
The reprimand was delivered without inflection, but with considerable volume as it reverberated in Whistler’s mind. He could do little in response but to obey, even as he fumed inwardly. As far as he was concerned, the Powers That Be needed a serious personality adjustment.
“They are definately in need of something.” The figure appeared out of nowhere, shrouded in a white glow, its tone sardonic. “It seems to me, that beings which are without humour, personality or even a shred of compassion do not have any place in the life of a human, be they a champion or not.”
Whistler had a distinct feeling that whatever was about to happen was not going to impress the Powers. Knowing better than to allow his thoughts to show on his face, Whistler grinned on the inside as he tried to be as unobtrusive as possible. And who are you to judge us?
“My name is Daniel, and though in my dimension I have this rule of no interference, I’m fairly sure they won’t banish me for this. I don’t think it’s in their jurisdiction.” He grinned at them, but it was more a bearing of teeth. He looked down at their image of the running girl and his face darkened. “You no longer have any say over the life of this Slayer. She will be given choices, and opportunities beyond what she could ever hope to gain if she continues on this path, your path.”
He glared at the Powers.
“And unlike you, we will respect whatever decision she makes.” Upon saying that, he vanished.
The Powers That Be exchanged thoughts, and came to the conclusion that whoever he was, he was bluffing. The Slayer was their Champion, and there was no one with the power to sunder that connection.
Having heard most of the conference between the Powers, Whistler couldn’t help but be amazed by the arrogance they exuded, and he prayed to any god that may be listening that Daniel could follow through on his promise.
As he prayed he watched the image of the Slayer as she threw herself from a building towards the rapidly moving bus. He winced knowing that no matter how she landed it was still going to hurt. Lots.
But she never hit the bus. Or the ground. Whistler watched in awe as in the middle of that leap a bright white light encompassed the flying form, before disappearing into the atmosphere.
Whistler smiled. “Good luck Slayer.” He whispered. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but it was most likely to be the last. Then he leaned back and laughed as the Powers screamed furiously into space. The Powers That Be, for beings without personality, really did a very good impression of rage in Whistler’s not so humble opinion.