Farewell to old, hello to new...
Intro: Buffy didn't know it at the time but hidden in the folds of her Halloween dress was an old pocket watch. And on that unfortunate Halloween night, things went, differently than Ethan Rayne intended, leading to a drained Hellmouth, a different future and a different slayer as well as a new Time Lady Buffy.
Disclaimer: Buffy belongs to Joss Whedon and Doctor Who to the BBC. Neither are mine.
Pairings: Unknown as of yet. A/N: Ideas would be appreciated.
‘If the Universe came to an end every time there was some uncertainty about what had happened in it, it would never have got beyond the first picosecond. And many of course don’t. It’s like a human body, you see. A few cuts and bruises here and there don’t hurt it. Not even major surgery if it’s done properly. Paradoxes are just the scar tissue. Time and space heal themselves up around them and people simply remember a version of events which makes as much sense as they require it to make.’--Douglas Adams.
TIME VORTEX, TARDIS.
She allowed herself to fall back onto the bed, in the large opulent room following her good 2 hours 3 minutes, 12 seconds and…throwing up in her bathroom.
Her mind spinning with images of a burnt orange sky, of silver trees and twin suns as she flopped onto burnished red sheets.
She thought of snow capped peaks of deep red grass.
And of Home.
She felt a tear slide down her cheek.
The emptiness in her mind was enough, it was enough to let her know that the matrix was gone and thus her ‘home’ destroyed as the minds of the Timelords were now absent. Whilst the fact that humanity had NOT been wiped out was enough to let her know that the Daleks had not won. Simply put, both had lost. The two ‘great races’ too powerful, too over-confident and to careless had brought about one another’s doom. Cancelled each other out on the great scale of balance.
And wasn’t that just a kick in the head.
A new species and no-one to guide her.
Rassilon, she ached with the loneliness as never before, felt like she could shatter into a thousand teeny-tiny pieces. Like she was spun glass that would break so very easily. But she was not made of glass and neither would she break easily. Never, never and never.
If she was to be the last of her kind she would continue with dignity. After all that was rule one: don’t die.
It could apply to this situation just as easily as her previous, even if she would change her face if she died and be perfectly fine.
And god wasn’t the thought of Body-snatching ‘fun’ creepifying to the highest level…
She sniffed softly as she slipped into a restless sleep as her body purged the remnants of cellular regeneration. Unaware that she was not alone, her mind having forgetting Janus’ mentions of the Doctor through the trauma of remembering everything, in tandem with the mental shock of her psychic awakening…
And that was exactly as the God of Chaos had planned it.
After all, what was life without a little confusion and chaos?
A hell of a lot less fun for HIM that was for sure.
LOS ANGELES, 1996.
The Slayer stared around the room, which had become a shrine, her emerald eyes sad and her gaze hollow.
The parents who had once been hers were still married, still together, their arguments not exacerbated by what appeared to be a mentally-distant-and-disturbed daughter.
Though from the looks of things they were happy, still living in LA with Joyce running a well known gallery, and Hank a successful lawyer. Who was apparently not having an affair.
Which was always a good thing, those bleached secretaries with their totally outdated red-lacquered nails sharpened to claws, were nothing of the good.
The only difference in this entirely new reality was the hidden pain, at the absence of a child and the empty room as a shrine to the still-born Buffy Summers of this world.
She’d been unaffected visiting Baby-Buffy’s grave, but this, this was so much worse.
And empty room that echoed with ‘could have beens’ and wishes.
She caught sight of a dusty pig-plushy of which she had the identical in her TARDIS, Mr Gordo.
She gave a quiet sigh of sadness, before slipping from the house.
The house that had made her realise that she was not Buffy Summers anymore, Joyce and Hank had their own Buffy and more importantly, they had lost her.
She could never replace that ever, and if she tried they’d probably have her committed or something.
Wishing them a great life as she headed for Revello Drive, unlimited shopping here she came.
Spilt milk and all that jazz.
Besides, there was someone else in this time period whom she would need to bid farewell one last time…
Someone who would need a new path.
NEW YORK, 1996, MANHATTAN
The vampire who had once been known as Angelus the Scourge of Europe staggered through the rain soaked alley, lunging desperately for his prey.
He snatched up the writhing body and sank in his fangs, drinking deep of the life-giving elixir.
It was gone too soon, leaving the hunger-cravings to claw at his insides as he dropped the now deceased rodent back amongst the trash.
Pretty much summed him up these days.
Couldn’t hunt, couldn’t kill.
But at the same time he could never be human, never forget what he had done when he was still a demon.
What was he?
He stared at his dirt encrusted hands in solemn silence.
“Of all the things I was expecting…” The words broke through the rain-filled silence like a rapier. “I mean it’s one thing to hear it described but…”
His head snapped up at the female voice, aware that somehow she’d slipped into the alley without his senses picking her up, and that made her a threat.
Not to mention the double heart-beat she was giving out.
Thumpa. Ba-Bump. Thumpa. Ba-Bump.
She was very lovely though, a heart-shaped face, loose golden curls and eyes that seemed to stare directly into his returned soul.
And yet it was her light, that she seemed to radiate that drew him to her, like she wore her heart for all to see.
If he’d still been Angelus he’d have picked her out for a ’special project’ in an instant.
As it was he wasn’t Angelus any longer, he was Angel, and he didn’t know who or what she was nor why she was interrupting his solitude.
“Who’re you?” He muttered, hiding behind a matted fringe, his voice hoarse and dry from lack of use for over a decade.
“I’m not important.” She gave a self-depreciating smile. “You however, that’s a different story.”
“M’not important.” He shrunk in deeper on himself.
“Yes, you are Angel. How long has it been? Since you got your soul?” She questioned seriously, eyes searing into his and he found he couldn’t answer, could do nothing but stare at her.
“How long have you spent hiding from the world Angel? Living off rats.” She stepped closer, and he slipped back further as though she would burn him. Noting the flash of pain in her eyes.
“What’s wrong with that?” He snapped defensively.
“Nothing…But you have to ask yourself, is it the right thing to do? Is it what you want?” She tilted her head slightly.
“What else am I supposed to do?” Angel sneered, pulling himself up from his hunched position. “Get a job? Nine till five wouldn’t exactly suit me.”
“For starters you could take a bath.” She joked lightly, before continuing on a more serious vein of thought. “But seriously, butchers throw out so much blood these days its ridiculous. You can buy it cheap, ergo no more ratty-meals for you.”
“Why would it matter?” Angel snorted.
“Because you cant go around eating rats if you want to make a good impression.” She spoke as though it were obvious and he was being purposefully obtuse.
“Impression on who? The mice?” Angel snorted, waving his arms. “Or the significant germ population?”
The blonde woman reached into her pocket, making him freeze until she pulled out a piece of paper and held it out to him.
“What’s that?” He nodded suspiciously.
“A second chance.” Her gaze blazed into him.
“You may pretend, you may hide here from the world and try and pretend you’re no good. But the fact of the matter is, I know you, Liam O’Conner. And no matter what Angelus may have done while wearing your face- you are a good man. Not a perfect man, but a good man. And it‘s time for you to step up and act like it.” Her words were impassioned as she seemed to stir up his soul, he wanted to believe her.
How he wanted to believe her but…
“I’m a monster…” He hissed softly.
“No, you’re not.” She stepped close to him and ran a tender hand across his cheek, so certain.
He couldn’t help lean into her touch, it had been so long that anyone had been tender…
“The things I did…” He was whispering.
“Then do this, step into the modern world, find the redemption you need.” She held forth the paper again.
“What is it…” He eyed it nervously.
“An address, of a young girl in Boston who hasn’t had the best luck in life. She’s a child already too old, fourteen years old and she’s going to be called as a Slayer in a year. She’s going to be alone, confused and on Kakistos’ territory. She’s going to need someone to watch out for her. A guardian angel if you will.” She glanced up at him through long lashes.
“I…what’s her name?” He managed to stammer out.
“Faith Lehane.” A small smile curved the blonde’s lips upwards, his Angel, he decided.
“If, if I go…I can make a difference?” He asked hesitantly as he took the paper.
“You’ll help the helpless.” She nodded.
Angel stared at the address for a moment and looked up once more.
“What if I don’t d…” His gaze frantically searched the now empty back-street of the new, New York.
One he’d yet to truly experience.
He’d need a new wardrobe if he went…
Angel glanced at the address again.
A chance to atone for his sins…
With a resolute nod he stuffed the address into his pocket and headed out into the night to find a butchers where he could buy some decent pig’s blood.
He’d set off for Boston the next night.
He never noticed the blonde with two hearts watching from the shadows with a heartbreakily tender smile on her lips as she pressed a kiss to her hand and blew it after him.
It whispered upon the air, even as she disappeared once again…
She stared at herself in the mirror of her massive TARDIS wardrobe which she’d already begun to fill, smiling into one of the numerous mirrors thoughtfully.
“What do you think?” She queried aloud to her TARDIS, which crooned its approval of her new appearance, much better.
Her stylish Italian leather boots were a soft brown and reached up to the base of her knees, adding a good few inches to her petite frame. Her other clothing was both practical and pretty damn stylish, her denim jeans held her legs snugly with enough give to allow her to move swiftly whenever was needed. A sheer ivory top with capped sleeves and a black camisole underneath. Over that was the fitted brown leather jacket (along with the matching black one she’d also picked up).
At her neck glinted the watch, a reminder of who and what she now was, it swung low like a pendant, almost falling to her belly.
Eying herself with interest, she noted whilst she retained her hair and eye colour they were now so much more vivid than before.
Her shift to her new Gallifreyan heritage was noticeable various aspects, her eyes for one, having previously been an ordinary green (granted an extremely bright green), they were now gleaming like a pair of emeralds set in golden skin, and around the pupil leaking into the iris was a ring of pure gold, present in the eyes of those who had looked into the Time vortex, the mark of a time lord. Almost a mark to show they held knowledge unknown to any but them, and that no other mind could comprehend without shutting down entirely.
Her skin had always been rather tanned, consequences no doubt of spending the majority of her Californian childhood outdoors. But now her skin had a luminous tint to it, free of blemishes and scars, and held the soft smell of sweet honey that was natural to Gallifreyan; and she knew that her skin was now resistant to poisons, ordinary cuts, and alterations from room temperature to extreme levels.
Her temperature was notably cooler than human, staying pretty much around the 12°C.
Her heritage had also worked to alter her form, and whilst still containing slayer strength and speed, in appearance she looked older, around the age of 20 or something, though it had done nothing for her lack of height, damn it.
“I think this is going to be very interesting.” She murmured aloud, slipping her hands into pockets that were bigger than they looked, very Mary Poppins.
Her TARDIS projected its agreement, as a saddened smile crossed her face, as she entered the central control room.
“Lets go see Giles…” She murmured, running her hands over the console fondly, as the ship moved as she needed. “Stuffy Watcher man needs shaking up every once in a while, it keeps him on his toes.” She whispered comparatively to the ship, despite the fact that there was no-one else there to here what she said.
Some habits were hard to break.
LONDON, 1998, GREAT RUSSELL STREET, THE BRITISH MUSEUM
The Slayer stared up at the museum before her, it’s neo-Grecian style making her smile quietly, Great Russell Street, The British Museum. It was bustling with people, tourists, children on school trips and teens dragged along by parents.
Few noticed the Gallifreyan, bar the casual glance at the beautiful young woman, which was natural on this world. None however noticed her inhumanity, as she climbed the steps as though she owned them, a purpose about her movement that was undeniable.
Her steps took her to the world-renowned Egyptian and Sudanese collection, staring in deep thought at the marble slab before her inscribed with words she could have read even without the TARDIS translating within her head.
“You’re interested in the piece?” Queried a familiar voice, that made her smile quietly as she turned to look at the curator, his tweed jacket and glasses as present as ever, but minus may of the strain lines which had always marked his brow.
“What’s not to be interested in, the Rosetta stone, the most instrumental object in the 20th century in understanding hieroglyphic writing, discovered by the France in 1799 at Rosetta and ceded to the British following their victory at the Battle of the Nile. Contributing greatly to Thomas Young’s principles of hieroglyph writing. A decree from Ptolemy V, describing the repeal of various taxes and all that jazz. Recently a cause of controversy due calls for its it’s return to Egypt.” Buffy responded, chuckling within at Giles’ look of shock.
After all, she looked and occasionally spoke like a typical air-headed blonde. It had been only really Giles that had ever really been able to see beyond her looks to the mind within, encouraging her to be all she could be.
But this wasn’t her Giles.
Not her Watcher.
“Yeah, I guess you could say I’m interested.” She grinned quietly.
“Y-you’re quiet well in-informed M-miss…?” He was polishing his glasses already.
“Summers.” She smiled a Mona Lisa smile. “History happens to be an area of study of mine.”
“Y-you are a student?”
“Already got my degree, I’m older than I look.” She smiled wryly. “It was a pleasure meeting you Dr Giles.” She smiled, as she turned to leave, so many hidden messages within those words, none of which he would ever be able to decipher.
“And y-you Miss…If I could just ask, h-how you knew my name.” His eyes held a glint now, Ripper rising beneath the surface. His tweed clad frame stiffening slightly, as he eyed the petite girl staring at the exhibit.
“It’s on your name-tag, Rupert ” She chuckled, motioning to the plastic tag, and sure enough- Dr R. Giles PhD, so-on and so-forth. Slipping away into the crowd, leaving a flushed and apologetic man in her wake.
Until he froze, he’d never mentioned his first name and that most certainly wasn’t on his name tag.
His gaze shot up, but she was gone. Faded into the crowd leaving behind an exceedingly bemused museum curator who couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d met that young woman somewhere before…
SUNNYDALE, CALIFORNIA, 1999, SUNNYDALE HIGH.
Every city has a pulse. It’s just a matter of knowing where to rest your finger to find it, throbbing away as the sun bleeds out of the sky and night rises to cloak every sin.
The Time Lady who had once been known as Buffy Anne Summers gave a sigh as she stared out at Sunnydale, Buffy fluttered her eyes closed as she combined her temporal senses with her slayer-fu. It was combining to paint temporal lay lines throughout the city, making her start in surprise at the realisation that the so-called ‘hell mouth’ (such a primitive explanation) was in fact a rift in time and space which the bad guys had taken to leeching power from.
The presence of a rift which had been drained dry weighing heavy on her senses. And though she had removed the majority of its power in her own transformation and the creation of her TARDIS, it was nonetheless important to ensure it was never misused again. It would certainly have to be dealt with…
Because some idiot was apparently currently giving it the spatial equivalent of a ‘poke’. And whilst violating it also left a risk of the empty rift being transformed into a hole, a set point between two places.
And that would just be irritating to fix…
Oh Rassilon she was going British and proper, the horror!
With a sigh, she searched out Sunnydale high.
She had some Scoobies to check on…
She watched with a quietly sad smile, Xander- Willow- Jesse.
Laughing, joking and happy on the steps of Sunnydale high. The sunshine seemingly haloing them, or maybe it only looked like that to her.
The place she wanted to be more than anything, but couldn’t be.
It was things like this that made it worth it. The knowledge that without her lives were better, less dangerous.
And once she fixed up the rift with the Timelord equivalent of safety scissors and glue…
They’d be safe forever.
Well for the rest of their human life spans.
The alternate timeline she’d witnessed upon her completed change would not occur without her continued presence in their personal timelines.
Jesse would not die an early, terror-filled death, and neither would Xander and Willow have to face his pseudo-betrayal upon his transformation into a blood sucking creature of the night.
Xander would never be hardened by the fact that he staked his best friend.
Would never be possessed numerous times, forced to face the loss of his ex-demon fiancé, nor watch Willow lose herself to the Darkness, and lose one of his own eyes fighting the good fight.
He’d even have children of his own eventually.
Willow, sweet Willow. Here was a Willow who was kind and gentle and helped people just because they needed help, she would remain untainted by the dark magiks into which she would have delved to aid Buffy the Vampire Slayer and eventually become addicted to. Doing horrible things without realising it, as she attempted to re-deal the unfair hand that fate had dealt and merely end up hating herself for it.
She would have a long and happy life with her girlfriend Tara McClay, she’d even become a teacher, helping countless children find their way, and that was good.
They would never remember her, but their lives would be so much fuller. Untainted by the death she had brought in her wake.
She smiled to herself as she stared at their personal timelines, shining on into the distance, set on their course.
It would be worth it, she mentally repeated.
Never noticing the single tear that fell down her cheek as she slipped away into the shadows, back to the TARDIS.
“It had to have an infestation of Gelth, didn‘t it.” The Slayer muttered to herself as she dodged the blow of an animated corpse. These particular participants of the Time War had totally given her…the wiggins. “It couldn’t have been some nice carrot-people accidentally making waves or something like that, no, it had to be body-snatching aliens.”
“We will be made of our flesh once more. You will not stop us.” The corpse/Gleth/conduit growled in twin tones; the body it had taken jerking forward with a Zombie like gait and blue tinged skin that just screamed ‘animated corpse here’ or maybe even the good old fashioned caption of- ‘run the dead are walking’ could be applied.
“Wanna bet on that, Zombie-boy.” Slayer smirked, ducking under the blow aimed at her head.
Sprinting through the underground tunnels that seemed to spider web underneath the high school that had previously been unknown to her (and what was with that?), The Slayer ran towards the central focus of the rift.
Namely, what had come to be referred to the Boca Del Inferno.
Cheery holiday spot, no?
She burst into a central chamber with a creepy seal set dead centre and with a weedy young man that she vaguely recognised strapped to it, and nearly paralysed with the copious tears of fear he seemed to be producing. Meanwhile an apparently Gelth-possessed boy, who was notably alive, with an ugly and extremely vicious look about him stood over the other boy clutching some sort of three-pronged weapon in one hand.
“Warren, I don’t like this any more.” The blonde haired teen whimpered, trying desperately to wriggle free.
“Keep still.” The dual-toned voice snapped.
“Woah, hold it right there Freddie Jnr.” Snorted the voice of The Slayer which distracted them.
“Oh thank God, help me- they’re aliens!” Squawked the younger, human, boy.
“Tsch, duh!” She sighed flicking her hair. “Honestly, it’s not like all of us are uber-evil or anything. Your stereotyping there kid.” Her piercing gaze lanced into the head honcho who seemed to be inhabiting the kid called Warren. “And as for you- your possession of the kid directly goes against the prohibitions within the shadow proclamation. He’s a sentient being.”
“The boy welcomed us. He wished to see the stars. He wished to rule and to conquer and to destroy. His mind was so very….ripe for cultivation, he barely even needed to be pushed into aiding us.” The creature sneered, before jerking it‘s head to the side in a distinctly inhuman manner. “The female will identify her planet of origin and her knowledge of the laws.”
“‘The female’ will not.” Sneered The Slayer.
“Or the human will die.” The gelth threatened.
“Don’t you need him to pull yourselves across, his mind as a conduit- a living and psychically gifted, for a human, mind to pull yourselves through right? So it’d be safe to say killing him would be shooting yourselves in the foot?” Buffy quirked her head.
“Our world is gone, this world will be ours.” Hissed the creature. “We will take the bodies these humans do not deserve. We will be flesh once more, and will not be thwarted again.”
“This world is under my protection.” Buffy pulled herself up, suddenly appearing taller and much more powerful. “And believe me Casper-The-Unfriendly-Ghost, you really don’t want to mess with me.” Her hand slipped into her pocket.
“Or what?” Leered the creature.
“Or, this…” She propelled herself forward, a snapping high-kick sending the possessed boy flying as she landed in the seal, utilising the Slayer abilities that remained, notably the advanced strength and speed, her Gallifreyan healing easily surpassing that of a Slayer.
Shifting forward she reached out to rip away the ropes which bound the sobbing blond, freeing him from his sacrificial position on the seal which appeared to bear the head of a ram.
How very satanic.
She really needed to find out who’d done their decorating scheme and kick them, repeatedly.
She caught the boy, who appeared to be babbling out terrified pleads for life and limb, at the same time as thanking her copiously. Rolling her eyes she grabbed him by his sweater and shoved him away from the seal. At the same time as she plunged the odd contraption from her pocket, that she‘d assembled in her TARDIS, into the metal of the Rift-seal-Hellmouth…Thing of many varying names.
Making it screech it’s resistance, stupid, creepy thing.
She leapt back as it began the countdown.
“What have you done…” Hissed another of the Gelth inhabiting a human-corpse that was a little to far to the side of rotten for her liking, leaking black, treacle like substance from its decaying limbs as it squelched forward.
“Done? We-ll I’ve just readjusted your little universe-hop into sealing the rift that you losers poked a hole in. You’re going back to where you came from. Buh-bye.” The Slayer smirked, giving a mocking wave as she watched as the blue, gaseous spirits were pulled away. They were dragged through the rift, screaming as they went. Corpses stolen from cemeteries dropped like flies throughout the chamber, until the rift sealed and the screams stopped.
“Well, bye-bye to the boys in blue.” She chuckled, exchanging a glance with her bemused and significantly male damsel in distress, before giving a sigh. “Not my best work, I know. But my puns can’t be fantastic all the time, it takes a job of work.”
She watched with an air of triumph as the Hellmouth seemed to seal over, the patterns upon it fading away to leave an unopenable bronze plate, more like the manhole of doom that could never-ever be opened, than the Hellmouth.
“Well, wasn’t that fun.” The Slayer snorted aloud, clambering into the now-smoking crater left of the seal, to remove the device. Couldn’t have any humans getting their mitts on an energ extrapolator.
“Look out.” She heard a shriek, turning to catch sight of the little creep who’d been working with the Gelth, large forky-thing raised in her direction before he was sent flying, surprisingly due to a tackle from the blond boy.
You wouldn’t think someone with such a skinny frame would have the body weight to do that.
Buffy hurried forwards, grabbing the little worm by the scruff of his shirt. Shaking him like a misbehaving puppy, before tossing him away from the wide-eyed blond, who she offered a hand.
“T-thanks…” He stammered. “’M Andrew…Andrew Wells”
Her gaze turned to the other human currently spluttering on the ground. “You stupid alien-bitch, you ruined everything. I was supposed to rule, I was going to be king and you…”
Her fist shot out catching him in the face and knocking him unconscious.
“What a loser.” Buffy snorted quietly, pressing her fingers to his temples to erase his memories of events, shuddering at the sick thoughts within his mind. There was a reason some shouldn’t know of the existence of aliens.
“He was my best friend…” Sniffled the teen, rubbing his wrists which were marked by deep gouges where he’d fought to get free. “He was my only friend…”
Buffy gave a quietly sympathetic sigh at the boy, humanity could be cruel sometimes. Ostracising those who were classed as ‘different’.
She reached out to pat him on the shoulder gently, making him jump in surprise.
“Oh, is that not the correct way a human is sympathetic?” She queried lightly, though she knew it was.
“You’re a real alien?” Andrew squealed, doing a rapid about face in persona that made her worry for his sanity. A psychotic break due to the situation, maybe. “This is so cool, my very own First contact! Um, Greetings and welcome to the planet Earth of the Solar System.” He spoke slowly, and left her feeling both amused and utterly patronised. “May you live long and prosper!” He made some odd trekkie symbol that she’d never quite mastered, before rambling on further “Take me to your leader! No! Wait-wait! Don't take me, please! I don't want any alien eggs in me! Or you to do experiments. Or eat me! I don’t taste good at all, Do you like pastries? I can bake pastries instead…” His words were a rapid string of breathless exclamation that had the newly minted Time Lady reeling. Watching in bemusement as he worked himself into an even more panicked stated, as he swayed, hyperventilating. Whilst silently wondering if he was going to faint on her.
"Mr. Wells? Andrew!" Buffy interjected quickly, rolling her eyes up in exasperation and tempted to give him the traditional slap to the face but deciding against it. "Thank you for that lovely welcome. But no, I’m not going to lay eggs in you. Or probe you. Or, eat you. Or any other ridiculous theories. I’ve been on Earth many times before and I was just here to save the day, okay?"
A slight snuffle, then a hesitant, slightly whiny, "Okay . . ."
She caught sight of the state of his wrists, giving a mental groan as she formulated an idea, as irritating as it was going to be. But he had technically saved her life, and she liked how she looked and really didn’t want to regenerate any time soon.
Didn’t really want to at all.
“C’mon kid.” She slipped her hand through his, gently pulling the highly shocked (as in beyond speech- thankfully) human through the cave system which she’d managed to memorise. Apparently this ‘advanced mental capacity’ had a few perks.
“What about Warren?” So he’d finally found his voice again.
“Ah, he’ll wake up and make his way out. Minus any world domination abilities. In fact, he wont remember a thing. It‘ll be one big blob of nothing” She shrugged dismissively, not really giving a damn about alien-stooge-number…Well, it was apparently a lot if her ‘memories’ were anything to go by.
“Anything?” Andrew blinked.
“Nope. My people are highly gifted psychics and…” Rassilon, that was weird to say out loud.
“Ohmygod! You mind melded with him.” Andrew squealed excitedly.
“I did not ‘mind-meld’ with your freaky little ex-friend. Honestly, star trek has caused more damage than it’s damn well worth.” She snorted. “I simply locked away his memories of the events surrounding the Gelth.”
“The huh?” Wasn’t he an eager little bunny?
“The aliens that were possessing the bodies your eager-beaver of a friend stole from nearby cemeteries.” She sighed. “Creepy things, directly break the shadow proclamation in their very nature.”
“It’s a set of laws regarding sentient beings signed by the most powerful races in the universe, including my own, and to be enforced no matter what.” Buffy sighed, already mentally kicking herself for setting him off.
Still if it got his mind off the fact that his closest friend had been planning on sacrificing him in order fulfil his fantasies of world domination and utter destruction, well, it was probably for the best.
“Wow…that is so cool! So are your people like, super-strong and super advanced protectors of the universe…?” Andrew gaped in amazement, unaware of the pain that lanced through her chest.
Wasn’t like she had any other ‘Timelords’ to compare notes with, and wasn’t that a sexist title in itself.
“Quit dawdling kid, or we’ll never get there.” Buffy interrupted abruptly, tugging him forward. Choosing to block out his babbling as they stepped out into the starlight.
“Where are we going?” His voice took on a whiny, nasal tone.
“Here.” Buffy pulled him to a halt in front of the silver sports car, parked in front of the school.
“You own a car?” Andrew blinked sceptically at her, as she used her TARDIS key to unlock it.
“Just get in monkey-boy.” She snorted, opening the passenger door and motioning him in.
The blonde scrambled in and a blissful yell emerged from within.
“By the Force!”
“I am so gonna regret this.” She rolled her eyes, as she followed him in, closing the door behind her.
“This is sooo cool, it’s bigger on the inside, it’s almost cooler than the Enterprise.” Andrew gushed as she entered.
“Hey…” Buffy huffed. “Don’t insult the TARDIS!” The ship made a soft groaning noise of discontent. “It’s alright darling, he didn’t mean it. Did he?” Her gaze narrowed on the human boy.
Who nodded frantically, his survival instinct apparently kicking in at this point and the main lights of the console room instantly brightened.
“He’s sensitive.” Buffy replied, stroking a hand across the console.
“The ship’s alive?” Andrew blinked, all but drooling.
“This is the TARDIS- Time And Relative Dimensions In Space.” She motioned to the ship. “And yes he’s sentient. It’s how things worked on my planet, a TARDIS was grown for each of us from the moment we are…what you humans refer to as born. They grow with us and when we come of age we bond.”
“That is like so cool. It’s kind of like Andromeda, hey does your ship have an avatar, like Rommie?” Andrew leaned in eagerly.
“Um…noo. We’re telepathically connected.” Buffy blinked her surprise at his eagerness. “Now, back to why we came.” She clicked her fingers, feeling the nano-genes clustering around her hand. “Hold still.”
She ran her hand over his wrists, one after another, allowing the tiny golden constructs to heal him.
The blond gaped openly at his now blemish free wrists. “Holy moley, this is like, cooler than that 24-hour marathon of the of Dragonball Z, which was so much better than Dragonball, I mean Goku was like all pshaw and Vegeta was all zapp and...”
“Um, right…” Buffy nodded lightly, returning the nano-genes to the central console.
“Oh, hey, you never did say what planet you were from?” Andrew continued, gosh always with the questioning, though it wasn’t like he could help it.
She’d have probably been the same, though a hell of a lot less dorky.
“My planet is gone.” She smiled weakly. “This is all I have.” Her hand encompassed the TARDIS.
Earth was her planet anyway, no matter what got shoved into her head, she and the blue marble would always be connected.
“Oh…Did it get sucked into a black hole or something.” Andrew’s gaze was sympathetic.
“Please, my people created black holes. It would be child’s play to remove one.” She sneered contempt fully, before doing the mental equivalent of a double take, she was getting all snobbish for a race she only knew through faked memories.
She seriously needed to re-think that area of thought.
No more prejudices for her.
“You think that’s cool? We were known as Time Lords because we created the tapestry of time, policed it, stopped things from going into flux.” She preened, running her hand across the consol. “There were millions of TARDIS once, all of us singing in mental harmony, able to travel any where and any when in time and space. We were the protectors of all other species, because we were amongst the first to evolve after the universe was created.” She smiled at the human. “We took it very seriously.”
She was doing it again darn it!
“The ship travels in time?” Andrew squawked amazement. “I take it back, this ship is like a bazillion times cooler than all the Enterprise ships, Voyager and Deep Space nine.”
“Thanks kid.” She chuckled, sprawling in the pilot’s chair.
“Why do you keep calling me kid I mean…”
“I’m considered a child by my people’s standards and I’m 100.” She gave him a wry grin. “You’re life time is like a mayfly’s in comparison to mine, I’ll live over two millennia if I’m very careful.”
Her body had apparently aged to fit her memories, she’d checked, as she’d aged to the time lord equivalent of a seventeen year old- which just happened to be one hundred plus. Kind of creepy and it really brought home the fact that she WASN’T human.
“So if you live so long, how come your people well…” Andrew trailed off.
“Kicked it?” Buffy shot a smile at him, silently glad to release the knowledge with which she had been so recently been burdened. “There was a war…the last Great Time War. Where the so called ‘Gods of Time’ as we were known fought against the ‘God’s of Destruction’ for the sake of all creation. My people fought to protect it, our enemies…The closest equivalent you would have would be the NAZIS. Any race not their own was impure and to be annihilated. Except unlike the NAZIS they had the power to destroy everything. My people were the only ones who could stop it, so they fought…And died, all of them died. They took their enemy with them, but everybody died.” She whispered softly, thoughtfully, the memories weren‘t real but they hurt.
Left her longing for something he never had and would never experienced, and that sucked royally.
Kind of kicking her when she was down, and saying this is what you could have had, if Gallifrey hadn’t gone up in a fiery inferno. Tough luck(!)
Fate sucked, and she was brooding almost as much as her ex.
Arms wrapped around her, as Andrew hugged her, and she couldn’t help but hug him back, slightly awkward at the invasion of personal space, but still... He was kind of sweet for a nerd.
And she knew he didn’t mean anything sexual by it, because hell-o so gay. He could be a jock and still be just as obvious (and oblivious) over his sexual orientation, poor thing.
“You’re a sweet human, Andrew Wells.” She smiled thinly, she‘d missed sweet, and in a way the nerd kind of reminded her of Xander with a bit of Willow tossed into the mix- mainly in the talking-without-breathing-for-ages thing, but still...
“Thanks, not many people think…I mean…They kind of think I’m a freak.” Andrew stammered shyly.
“Oh please, everyone interesting is a bit weird.” She snorted, pushing herself to her feet, smiling widely, remembering her own timeline‘s Sunnydale and her time as ‘the girl who might be in a gang or on drugs’ and made her decision. “Now…where do you want to go?”
“Forwards, backwards, other planet?” She twirled raising her arms. “You saved my life, technically, and I have a great big spaceship that can travel through time and space. You get one trip, to say thanks.”
“This is so cool!”
His shriek echoed around the TARDIS making her flinch.
This was going to be…interesting to say the least.