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The Mysterious Case of Buffy Summers

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Summary: After Rayne's Halloween, Buffy and Joyce Summers have disappeared. Andrew Wells maybe the key to finding out why. (Doctor Who/Buffy)

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Dr. Who/Torchwood > Buffy-CenteredcloudleonsgurlFR1816,373291,29415 Jan 1415 Jan 14Yes
Disclaimer: I own nothing from Buffy or Doctor Who. This is for amusement, not profit.

Summary: After Rayne’s Halloween, both Buffy and Joyce have disappeared without a trace. No one ever thought that Andrew Wells would be the first to discover why.

The Mystery Case of Buffy Summers

The chaos that Ethan Rayne had wrought on that fateful Halloween was a terrible night. Lives had been lost (vampires, demons and human alike). It would be swept underneath the rug under the guise of gangs on PCP, and other prettily worded lies that were conjured up by men in dark rooms exchanging money, blood and souls in their bargains. But no matter how many bargains were struck, the small town of Sunnydale couldn’t turn a blind eye to a certain missing blond slayer and her missing mother.

Their faces were on milk cartons, on posters and the Sunnydale syndrome never seemed to quite make them go away. Buffy and Joyce Summer were a lingering spirits of sorts, an afterthought that never truly left. It was a question that always came back around…

On Halloween night, what happened to Buffy Summers and her mother?

And more importantly, where were they?

Of course out of all the people to have found out the answer, Andrew Wells wasn’t even on the list.

The moonlight filtered in through empty classroom windows, dust (or absterous, no real telling with Sunnydale) gently floating down from the ceiling. There was no movement, and it was eerily quiet. The hallways of Sunnydale High were dark, and looked unwelcoming. Though it wasn’t that much different from the hallways during the day. There was only one major difference that made Andrew Wells’s heart swell with panic and fear.

He was alone.

During the day, he managed to get by. He could ignore the malevolent presence the school held, and even if he was driven home in tears by the bullies, he was proud that he had survived another day. But he now alone, and it was as if every evil thing, every evil thought or event that happened here suddenly was fixated on him. It was a suffocating sensation, and he cursed Warren. If it hadn’t been for Warren leaving Andrew to face the consequences for spray painting the boy’s locker rooms with curse words and pictures of…well, Andrew got in a lot of trouble by Snyder. He ran a hand through the halo of gold hair on his head, and he wondered why he stuck with Warren only to be treated this way. He had finally finished his detention. He had to clean up all the bathrooms and let’s just say that he saw things that he could never un-see though he wished sorely that he could.

He stripped off the gloves, tossing them into the trash before picking up the bucket and heading towards the janitor’s closet to drop it all off. He cringed when the bathroom door slung closed with a big bang, and he felt himself pause in step. His hazel eyes flickering around warily as if something would pop out of the shadows and slice his throat. Which was a reasonable fear, he thought let out a very nervous laugh. Each of his footfalls echoed loudly, and his breath hitched with each movement. Anxiety crawled across his skin like a thousand scurrying ants, and he swallowed thickly, his mouth dry.

He was going to be okay. He was going to be alright, he told himself. There was nothing here, but him. Nothing was going to happen. Of course, once he had convinced himself of that fact a hand came down on his shoulder. He screamed throwing the bucket and brushes into the air. They hit the floor with a loud clang, and laughter came from behind him. A familiar laugh. “Nice going, chicken shit.”

“That wasn’t funny, Warren!” Andrew snapped, whirling around on his friend.

“From where I’m standing, I’d have to disagree,” Warren smirked.

Andrew scowled. “What are you doing here? Did you actually get in trouble for once?” He said, crossing his arms over his chest. One would think having his friend here would ease his worries, but in fact, it only made it worse. Warren wasn’t always the most nice guy, but the last past months he had been disappearing off then coming back with a strange gleam in his eye. It frankly left Andrew on edge, and one time he thought about asking if he had gone over to the dark side. The only reason he didn’t was because he really feared the answer he would get in response.

“I never get in trouble. That’s what I have you for,” Warren stated, then his smirk slipped when Andrew’s scowl didn’t lift. “Don’t get attitude with me. I saved your ass. If I hadn’t let you get in trouble by Snyder the football team had ideas for punishment of their own.” His eyes moved over Andrew in speculation. “Though you would have probably enjoyed them.”

Again, Andrew was baffled by why he was friends with Warren. However, Warren was right about one thing, Warren managed to get the bullies away sometimes. Perhaps that’s why Andrew stuck around with him, but was Warren that much better than the bullies? Andrew wasn’t for certain. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Why are you here?” Andrew forced himself into his geeky façade.

“Working on a project.” Warren was immediately placated, and Andrew’s heart panged. A real friend would be able to see past that, wouldn’t they?

“Project? What project?” He wasn’t aware of any projects, and Warren had the same classes as he did.

“That’s why I came to get you, dumby,” Warren arched an eyebrow. “To show you. Come on, it’s in the library.”

“But…” Andrew really didn’t want to stay here any longer than necessary.

“Come on!” Warren sent him a glare.

Andrew wilted underneath it. “Okay.”

The walk to the library felt like walking the Green Mile. It wouldn’t end good. It just wouldn’t. That suffocating feeling increased ten fold as Warren shoved him through the library doors, and he swore he felt the ground tremble beneath his feet. And that’s when he saw it. A great long crack in the floor, and a faint light spilling out from within it. Andrew’s heart jolted in his chest, and he said, “Warren…what is that?”

There was no reply.

“Warren?” He turned and saw Warren holding some kind of orb. It was the glowing the same color as the crack in the floor, and Andrew knew that in some way they were connected like a key was connected to a door. “What are you doing?” He gasped, watching Warren walk over to the crack. He could feel the wrongness of that orb, it just wasn’t right. It was bad. Really bad, like kryptonite to Superman kind of bad.

“You know what the difference between us and those bullies are, Andy?” Warren murmured outloud, his eyes transfixed on the orb as it were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“They’re…” Andrew cleared his throat. “Bigger?”

“No!” Warren snarled.

Andrew jolted. He always knew Warren had a short temper, but this was something different. This was something else entirely, and he felt afraid. His hands clutched at his heart as he inched slowly towards the door as the alarms went off in the back of his head. Danger, Will Robinson! Danger! He would have laughed at his own thought, but at this moment he couldn’t find it in him to laugh. Especially when a scream was building in his throat.

“Power!” Warren stroked the orb, as if worshiping it. “They have power, and we don’t. That’s what it comes down to is power. But we are going to get power, and then we are going to show them! You and I are going torment them like they always tormented us!” He said, fervently. His dark gaze was glazed over, and he looked utterly mad.

He stared at Warren, fear spiking through his blood sending his pulse racing. “Warren…you are scaring me,” he said, taking a slow step towards the door as Warren stared recently at the glowing orb in his palm. Andrew always thought of blue as a calm color, as a pure color, but there was something unsettling about this shade of blue that swirled within the orb. Something completely and utterly wrong,the thought hit him again.

“Don’t be such a wuss,” Warren told him in sharp tone, shooting him a quick glance. He then did a double take, pinning Andrew to the spot and he pointed at Andrew’s hand that lingered on the doorway. “Where do you think you are going?”

“Warren…” Andrew’s voice trembled. He had never been so afraid in his life. Not even at Halloween when he had been cornered by a bleach blond vampire before his dark haired girlfriend made him let Andrew go, stating that Andrew had “stars in his eyes and no one can take the stars except Bad Wolf”. Andrew swallowed, his throat hurting as it was clogged with emotion. “Warren, just…let’s go, Warren. Please,” he begged.

“You know that’s what was always wrong with you,” Warren’s face was pale. Too pale, an his eyes looked like a black abyss as he held up the orb. Andrew could feel the evil wafting off the orb. “You always let people push you around. You are nothing more than a doormat! ‘Oh, I’m adopted! My parents didn’t want me! I’m just a pathetic little orphan!’” Warren gave a harsh mocking laugh. “You are pathetic, Andrew. I really had high hopes for you, you know? I had hoped to open the seal, that you would be beside me when I did that…but no, you never look at me like that!”

Andrew felt his chest tremble with the breath he dragged in. “Warren…you’re my friend, my best friend,” he tried to placate Warren when all he wanted to do was bolt. He didn’t want near that orb when it did whatever it was supposed to do, because Andrew knew instinctively that it would not be good.

“No! Not friend! I don’t want you as friend!” Warren snapped. “And if I can’t have you, then no one can!”

Andrew found himself feeling a whole new level of fear. He had never known Warren had any feelings like that towards him. Warren was always flirting and talking to girls, never batting an eye in his direction. No, this...whatever it was, it wasn't Warren and Andrew whatever it was, it had something to do with that orb. What had happened to his friend? How did everything turn out like this? He twisted the door handle, and Warren made a low growl in his throat. Andrew stared at him for a moment longer, then bolted out the door. He ran as fast as he could down the hallway, but then something happened. His limbs felt sluggish as if he was running through a wall of water and to his horror he froze, unable to move. His pulse was jumping against his throat and he heard Warren’s dark chuckle. “Tell me you seriously didn't think I hadn’t plan on you running?” Warren’s voice echoed down the hallway. His footsteps drew closer and closer.

Andrew felt tears well up in his eyes, and he closed his tightly. He prayed, Please. Don’t let this happen. Not to me. Not to me.

“You and me, we could have had it all, you know that Andy?” The nickname just made Andrew sick to his stomach. “But now you are only left with two options…you can either come with me willing and blow this hell mouth open…or I can make you. Oh, I quite like that…you completely at my mercy?”

He was about five feet away. Andrew could feel it, could feel his leer. His stomach rolled violently, and bile rose in his throat. There was nothing he could do. He was utterly helpless and a sob dragged through his throat and he prayed some god have mercy on him.

Then…something wonderful happened.

“How about door number three?” A perky, female voice with a weird combination of California and British accent that some how work. Andrew turned and gaped as he saw none other than Buffy Summers standing there in high heeled red converse shoes, a sleek black Italian female Italian suit and long brown coat that swish around her dramatically as she slid to a stop right behind Andrew. In a movement almost too quick for the discernable eye, her hand was raised and in it was a small mechanical instrument barely bigger than a pencil with a blue light on the end. “One word of advice,” Buffy shot Andrew a short, sarcastic grin that held a twinge of sympathy. “Run!”

She then pointed the instrument in her hand at the orb in Warren’s palm, and suddenly the orb changed from it’s eerily blue glow to a violent shade of crimson. “What? What did…you do?” Warren cried out in panic, as sparks coming off the orbs so hot that he dropped it on the floor and when he did the a great wave of energy rolled through the floor nearly knocking them all over.

“Oh, nothing much!” Buffy’s cheerful disposition didn’t falter in the slightly, as she casually slipped her weapon away. “Just reversed the polarity on your little doom’s day device while you were busy trying to turn poor little Andrew--”

“I am not little!” Andrew called out.

“Into your mindless minion,” Buffy finished as she weren’t interrupted at all.

“That doesn’t explain anything!” Warren shouted.

“That’s because you’re an idiot,” the blonde stated, her smile slipping into something more cold for the briefest of seconds and whatever is in her eyes, it made Warren look at her in fear. “In layman’s terms, the reserved polarity is causing the spatio-temporal hyperlink that you were attempting to open to collapse in on itself which means that we maybe had about,” she jerked her wrist so her jacket sleeve slid up and she looked down at her wristwatch, “fifty second before this whole building comes down. Why are you still here?” Buffy’s head snapped towards Andrew who was staring at her as if she were an alien. Her hand came down, seizing his wrist jolting him back into the present and she wiggled her fingers at Warren who stood rooted to the spot in shock. “Allonsy!”

And with that Buffy took off running as fast as she could, dragging him right behind her. Andrew’s heart was wildly beating in his chest for all around him he could hear pipes and groans from all the walls, a terrible howl coming from somewhere deep within. It was a sound that shattered a piece of his soul, a piece of innocence that he would never get back and he started sprinting now. He wanted out of this place because he knew whatever was behind them would not let him go, never let him go. The walls cracked, and crumbled. The earth beneath them began to give away, and he stumbled. But Buffy held him tight, like a lifeline and jerked him back to his feet. “Now is not a time for stumbling. Time for running!” She said, giving him a half-hearted grin though it was marred by worry. “Running’s the fun part.”

Andrew gave her a wide eyed look. “Are you mad?” He screamed over the noise as she turned to the left sharply, and he winced as he was dragged along.

“As a hatter!” She shouted back, with a loud laugh. “I need a hat! I wanted a fez, but I don’t think that would look good on me! What do you think?”

The world was literally crumbling around them, they could be smashed to death any second and she was asking him for hat advice? It was official, Andrew was going to die. This insane lady was going to get him killed. Andrew opened his mouth to scream just that as a wall caved into their path, just blocking the exit. He stared at the doors and he felt crushed. They were so close…so close…and now whatever evil thing was roaring behind them was laughing. He just knew it.

“Hang on!”

“Hang on to wha--ah!” He gave a girlish shriek as he was lifted into Buffy’s arm with a startling easy and she leapt forward. It was humanely impossible, but she did it. She jumped on top of the stone blocking there path, and she set Andrew down on his feet. Pointing to a hole, just big enough for them to squeeze through and she said, “Go!”

“But…” Andrew sputtered.

“Go. I’ve got this,” she told him, firmly. She flashed him a grin showing a set of pearly white teeth, and winked. “See you on the other side!” Then she dropped down below, Andrew looked at her then up. His heart seized in his chest, as he saw a great wave of darkness stirred forth ready to swallow them whole. “Go!” Buffy urged him once more.

He looked down at her, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he felt torn between helping her or saving himself. A knowing look crossed Buffy’s features, and she said, “You’ll have your chance at playing hero, but you have to live to actually see it through! Now go before I kill you myself!”

The threat is what did it because he was confident she could make good on it. Andrew slipped through hole, and scrambled down the rocks unsteadily as the earthquake trying to trip him up. He shoved through the doors, and gasped as the cool night air hit him. He ran, he ran until he made it the road and he turned looking back. The high school shook side to side, to and fro, and the great evil roar seemed to eclipse all else. Then suddenly it stopped…the world became quiet and Andrew just sat there staring at the high school as it stood still. Andrew held his breath, his arms wrapped around his midsection and then a great burst of energy shot out knocking him down on his backside. He gasped in pain, and scrambled to sit up.

His hazel gaze widen as he watched the high school sink into the ground as it were a house of cards being knocked down by a breeze. His heart seized in his chest, as he realized that Buffy had still been in there. She sacrificed herself to save him, and his whole body shook as the weight of what just happened crashed down on him. Hot tears rolled down his chest, and he sat there feel more like a child than he had in years.

“Calm down, everything’s is fine,” a voice said behind him, and a hand clapped down on his shoulder.

A scream of terror echoed into the night, and Andrew shot up onto his feet and whirled around prepared for a fight. Then he stared, blinking and blinking some more because there before him, hands shoved into her jacket pockets stood none other than Buffy Summers without a hair out of place. And cowboy hat on.

“What’cha think?” She reached up tapping the stylish cowboy hat, with a grin tilted on her lips. “Much better than a fez, huh?” She quipped.

“Wh…wha…” Andrew tried to form words, but he found none. He was never getting detention again, he would be a good boy from now on because if this weirdness was going to happen every time then he was going to die of a heart attack. Or something else, but personally the heart attack would be the most pleasant of options he thought. “H-how…” His voice cracked roughly.

Buffy’s hand patted his shoulder gently. “Deep breaths, Andrew,” she said his name with such familiarity as if she knew him, as if they had known each other for years. And even though, Andrew wanted to point that out, he felt comforted by her presences nonetheless. “Deep breaths.”

A wave of calm floats over him, and suddenly he finds himself slumped against a streetlight in an effort to keep himself up. “Spatio-temporal hyperlink?” Was the first words out of his mouth, and he wanted to hit himself.

Buffy wrinkled her nose. “I just didn’t want to call it a magic door. Spatio-temporal hyperlink sounds way cooler,” she said, with a delicate shrug of her shoulders. She cocked her head at him, and asked, “Are you going to be okay?”

“I…I…W-what? What happened?” He stuttered out, his hazel eyes looking up at her for clarification. He didn’t understand anything that just happened. He knew Warren wanted to make him his love slave which was honestly still freaking him out because as far as he knew Warren had been straight as arrow, and Andrew really didn’t like the idea of being anyone’s butt monkey. He was also shaking because he almost got crushed to death, and well near death experience caused trauma. This night was definitely going to leave him traumatized.

“That…was the hell mouth,” Buffy answered, truthfully. She saw no reason to not be honest with Andrew, every one of his decision would eventually lead to the supernatural path and damn it that didn’t make her feel guilty. “And that was me shutting it down.”

“The hell mouth?” Andrew didn’t understand.

Her eyes met his and he was startled by how old she looked. Not in wrinkles or gray hair, no her face didn’t look a day over a seventeen, but her eyes were a different story. They held so much. Sorrow, pain, courage, strength, those eyes had seen war. No, those eyes were war. Whoever this was…she wasn’t the Buffy Summers that was in that picture on the milk cartons. “Everything bad. Every ounce of strife, every ounce of misery and grief and heartache in the universe, every tragedy that has happened and all those that have yet to occur leave scars. A taint that won’t ever go away, and those scars…are what called Hellmouths.” Buffy pointed a finger at the crater. “And there is so much…so much evil…that it leaks out of the hell mouths trying to force its way through in the form of demons, in the form of ghosts, in the form of bullies,” she added, with a knowing look in his direction. “It keeps growing stronger, trying to taint the rest of the universe…I’m glad that today that I managed to beat it back if only for a little while.”

“You mean its not g-gone?” Andrew panted, resting one of his palms against his chest.

“No…” She pinned him with a serious gaze, and Andrew really wished she’d go back to being the crazy, cheerful blond once again. “Not yet. There is still miles to go before I can sleep.” Sweeping an assessing gaze over him, she nodded. “You’ll be fine,” she reached into her pocket, and held out an envelope. She twirled it through her fingers, before holding it out.

Andrew stared at her, and the envelope a bemused expression on his face. “What? What is this?” He gently took the envelope.

“A letter for a friend,” she said, started backing away. “Take care, Andrew.”

Andrew sat there, numb. He didn’t know what to say, or to do. Should he stop her, or tell her thank you, or--he was just so confused. He didn’t understand what just happened or what was going on. “Wait!” He cried out. She paused, shooting him a look over her shoulder. “H…how did you know my name?” Andrew asked, breathlessly. “How did you know my name?”

A sad smile attached itself to Buffy’s face. “Because I gave it to you,” she said, a sheen of tears gathering on her lashes before she turned away from him and placed a hand on the blue police box that stood there on the street. He blinked never noticing it before, and he watched as Buffy stroked the door with a deep sadness. “You ready, mom?” She whispered to the police box. Andrew jolted when he felt a electric hum that resonated through the air in reply to Buffy’s question. Buffy’s smile trembled and she opened the door and entered. He was filled with a sadness and pain in his chest as the blue box made a strange noise and disappeared as it had never existed in the first place.

The next moments pass by in a blur and Andrew watched on in detachment. First the police came shortly after the paramedics showed up. Then the media, and Snyder decided to bring his ugly mug around and was just eating up the attention he was getting from the media over it all. Andrew flinched as the paramedic swabbed his cheek with an alcohol pad. “I’m fine!” He said, adamantly.

The paramedic rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” the man said, and packed away his bag. Andrew hopped off the back of the ambulance, and headed towards the police line. He had already given his statement, and just wanted to go home when he froze in place. There on the other side of the yellow tape were Buffy’s friends, Xander and Willow along with the librarian Giles. His hands trembled around the letter that he had been holding on for dear life, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she knew that they were going to be here. Taking in a deep breath, grasping for what courage he had inside of him, he headed towards them with purpose.

“Mr. Giles?”

The man blinked, looking at him with a frown. “I’m sorry?” He tilted his head. “Can I help you, young man?”

“Andrew,” he offered, quietly. He refrained from mentioning that he had been to the library several times of the year and by all reason, one would assume the librarian would have known his name. Fighting off the flush of embarrassment, he pushed on before he lost his nerve, “That girl…uh, Buffy. She was here.”

Whatever the three had been expecting him to say, it hadn’t been that judging by the way their faces dropped in surprise. “Yo-you saw Buffy?” Willow gasped out, the first to get over her shock.

Andrew shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, she, uh, saved me back there.”

Giles’s felt his shoulders slump, his fears over his slayer dissipating ever so slightly. “Did…did she say anything?” He asked, his fingers brushing against his glasses as he stared down Andrew with a genially expression.

“Just…something about a spatio-temporal hyperlink and a hell mouth…” He said, and saw blank looks on Giles’s and Xander’s faces while Willow just appeared puzzled. “And…she gave me this. It’s for you,” he said, holding out the letter to Giles.

Giles took slowly, his fingers shaking slightly as if he had just received some great treasure and he brushed his thumb across the familiar bubble writing that he had always rolled his eyes at before as if it were the most important writing he had ever read.

For Your Eyes Only, Rupert Giles

Giles frowned lightly. Buffy had never called him Rupert, save for one time she had been mocking him playfully. A cold stone settled in the pit of his stomach, and he wondered whether to open it here or later. He glanced over at Willow and Xander who looked at him inquiringly. Buffy wanted him to keep something in confidence, and somehow he knew that the trust his slayer had in him was hanging on a thread. It was lifeline he couldn’t cut. Buffy was his daughter in everything, but blood and he would not betray that. He let out a long sigh before sliding the letter into his jacket pocket.

“Giles,” Willow looked admonished.

“Buffy wants me to keep her confidence,” Giles said, firmly. “As her Watcher, I will do that. She must have found herself in some kind of predicament to be forced to communicate in such a way.”

“She better have a good reason for abandoning us,” Xander scolded.

Giles bit the retort on the tip of his tongue, just barely. He would have regretted the words as soon as he said them. Buffy’s disappearance had hit the two teens hard, and the only way Willow had to cope was by withdrawing into her studies hoping to find some sort of spell to find Buffy while Xander could only lash out in order to deal with his feelings. Giles would endure the headaches they gave him for a while longer, but if the two didn’t realize that Buffy wasn’t doing this intentionally (at least, Giles believed that to be the case) then he would be having words with them that neither teen was going to like. “Andrew,” Giles began, wanting to know about Buffy when another one of his headaches came along.

“What happened?” The tall, dark and brooding walked in, his cape swishing behind him. Andrew noted that while he was handsome, he lacked the flair that Buffy carried with her as if it was easy as breathing.

“What do you want, dead boy?” Xander snapped.

Angel shot him a dark look before turning to Giles. Giles internally groaned, and reached up so he wiped his glasses. Why couldn’t his days be more stress free? He blamed his tutor Jane Smith who was an adventurous and spirited woman for being a bad influence on him when he was a child. What trouble the two had done had created bad karma that had finally come around to bite him where it hurt. He paused and wondered whatever happened to the bespectacled blonde woman who had a merry twinkle in her eyes before shrugging it off. “We don’t know,” Giles told him shortly. “Only the school is rumble--”

“Buffy was here!” Willow blurted out.

Giles wished there was a brick wall nearby. He felt the urge to bash his head against one right about now. Andrew watched the proceedings like he was watching a movie, and his stomach gave a growl for popcorn as soon as the thought passed through his head.

Angel drew in a breath he did not need, and asked, “Buffy...was here?”

“Yep,” Willow nodded.

Giles wished he had done more to discourage Willow and Buffy from this “grand romance” the two had created between Buffy and Angel, for he knew it would only end in tragedy…and quite a pain for him to explain to the Watcher’s Council why he allows his Slayer to date a vampire. “Yes, she was,” Giles acknowledged, with a slight incline of his head. “But she is gone.”

“Why? Where did she go?” Angel asked, quickly.

“Why don’t you ask Andrew,” Xander said, sending the boy a cool look. Why had Buffy trusted him with something important? Why hadn’t she come to Willow and him? Why Andrew? “She saved him.”

Angel’s eyes fixated on Andrew, acknowledging him for the first time. He drew in a breath ready to ask questions when a scent hit him, and he rocketed backwards on his feet in shock. “What the hell?” He nearly shouted. That scent…there was no way! It‘s impossible!

Willow jumped, while Xander put himself protectively in front of her. Giles’s eyes narrowed, and he opened his mouth to chide the vampire when he was shoved out of the way.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Andrew demanded as Angel hauled him up by his collar. Angel’s brows were furrowed, pinched together in a confused sort of anger and he suddenly buried his nose right in Andrew’s neck making the teenage boy squeak and turn absolutely red.

“He’s biting him!” Xander exclaimed, clumsily reaching for the stake in his jean pocket. “Dead boy is off the wagon!”

“He’s not biting,” Giles stared, feeling extremely awkward. “He…uh, he appears to be nuzzling him,” the watcher scratched the back of his neck, wishing for a glass of the amber liquor hidden away in his cabinet. He was seriously going to need it tonight.

“But…but he…with Buffy…” Willow looked at a loss.

“I’m not biting,” Angel growled, breathing in deeply. The boy’s scent, it was familiar. Too familiar. It was impossible. He couldn’t smell like…he just couldn’t. “And I’m not nuzzling.”

Andrew finally had enough. He had almost been turned into mindless slave of Warren’s, almost crushed to death, putting up with pissy paramedics and now this? “Then can you get off of me because,” he snapped, trying to shrug away from the unnaturally cold man, “you aren’t my type! I mean, I’m not even sure what my type is yet, but I know one thing--it’s not you!”

Angel didn’t heed his words. Instead, he took another deep breath and he let out a noise. It was a strange noise, a noise of grief and confusion and he pulled back from Andrew. His brown eyes were wounded, and he stared at Andrew in disbelief. He staggered back a few more steps, swaying drunkenly. “Her…how could she…” he muttered under his breath. “…sun…”

“A sun?” Willow’s lips turned downward, in confusion.

“No…not that kind of sun,” Angel’s voice was barely a whisper on the wind and he violently spun on his heel and rushed away into the night.

They all stood there in awkward silence before Xander broke it. “Well,” Xander tossed Andrew an uncertain smile, “I don’t know what you did, but you made dead boy run away. That puts you in my good books.”

It felt like ages before they all arrived back at Giles’s house, Andrew in tow. Willow was curled up in the chair, her knees pressed to her chest making her look more like a child than the younger woman she was striving to be. Xander was sprawled out, undignified on the floor with drool rolling down his cheek while Andrew had passed out on the couch spent from his eventful day.

Giles looked at all of them, his gaze landing on Andrew lastly. He didn’t know why he had brought the boy along, but he knew Buffy wouldn’t have trusted the teen with the letter if there wasn’t something important about him. Ditzy at times she may have been, but Buffy was far from a fool. He down the rest of his bourbon, enjoying the burn before he settled at his desk and pulled out the letter from his jacket. He let the jacket slide to the floor, uncaringly because to him he held what was most important in his hand.

Grabbing his letter opener, he slashed through the paper carefully and gently pried the letter free. His heart was thundering in his chest and he felt his palms go slick with sweat as he unraveled the plain white paper. His chest clenched when he saw the words, part of him fearing it would be blank. He took a deep breath, eyeing his empty glass wistfully. After a long pause, he finally looked at the letter and began to read.

Dear Rupert,

What I’m about to disclose is information of the utmost importance. Now wipe you glasses because I know you are startled by how I just started this letter, probably because you just realized how serious I am since I didn’t start straight out with some quip. No, I feel the time for laughter and smiles is drawing quickly to a close for me.

Giles is now even more alarmed. He could see his girl in these words, but his mind painted a picture of a young woman far wary and world worn than the last time he saw her. Panic stabbed at his gut, he whispered out, “Oh, my dear girl…what has happened to you?”

Halloween changed everything, Rupert. All the paths of destiny that once were are now gone, and the future is uncertain. This is my fault, I’m afraid. I was clumisy and spilled juice all over that dress and my mother went to get me another costume because she felt bad. Matching costumes, of a sort…at the time it didn’t make me feel better, it actually made me feel horrified. But now I’m not sure I would have it any other way. I know you are worried, and I know I’ve barely explained anything and for that I am sorry. There are so many things I would have loved to have said, but time is of the essence. The clock is counting down, 7...3...0. There is Fell whisper in the air, echoing through time. I cannot tell what it is, but it only says two words, over and over. Like a mantra. I will spare you the words, because as innocent as they may seem, they haunt me and I will not let them do the same to you. No, I write to warn you.

Beware the Weeping Angels who lie in wait for the Silence to fall. The Powers That Were have struck the gong, and it is for us Whom the Bell Tolls. If One must die, then the Rest Will Fall. I know this warning doesn’t make sense, but it will Giles. It will make sense only to you. To go forward, you must look back.

Your Slayer,


PS. Watch out for the little guy Andrew, okay? For me? He’s more important than you know.

The words whirled around his mind, and Giles felt conflicted. He wanted to feel the joy at having her write to him, but he knew not what she has gotten herself into or if she will be alright. The word were alarming, and filled him with dread. “Oh, Buffy…what have you gotten yourself into?” He asked himself before his gaze slid over to Andrew, who slept on peacefully unaware of what destiny had in store for him.

Destiny had been rewritten. The path that once was had been broken, and nothing would ever be the same. Not while Buffy and her mother moved through time and space, always running. Running forwards, trying to hold while they still could. And that’s what they would do…

Until the Silence fell.

This was just a random head cannon, and probably won’t be anything more than a oneshot unless I have a real inclination to write more. If anyone likes it, and thinks they can run with it, just PM me.

Rrs are appreciated.

The End

You have reached the end of "The Mysterious Case of Buffy Summers". This story is complete.

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