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Summary: Buffy may have thought she was free after the destruction of the Hellmouth, but the Powers are not about to let their greatest warrior go this time. Rated for swearing, rating may go up.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > Buffy-CenteredLostMarblesFR18423,4321911,7909 Sep 0419 Sep 04No

Bad News Demon

Chapter Title: Bad News Demon
Author: LostMarbles
Rating: FR18
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters connected with BtVS are owned by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.


Los Angeles
The Plaza
2:30 a.m.

Buffy Summers, currently one of twenty Slayers and counting, stood standing in the bathroom of her hotel room having just finished her shower. She was staring at her steamed over reflection in the mirror lost in thought. “We stopped the First, so why does something still feel wrong?” she wonders aloud.

“Cause kid, some things are still wrong in this dimension.”

Buffy jumps with a yelp. Clutching her towel closer to her, she spins around to meet the blue eyes of the short, badly dressed, balancing demon more commonly known as Whistler. “Do you mind? This is a naked place. Which means you knock before you scare the shit out of someone. Now get out so I can get dressed. Then we’ll talk about what’s wrong with this dimension. Okay?” As she says this, she grabs him by the arm of his jacket and throws him out of the bathroom slamming the door in his face.

Five minutes later she stomps out of the bathroom dressed in a pair of light-blue pajama pants and a white tank top. She crosses her arms over her chest and glares balefully at the annoying demon, who was currently standing in front of the television watching, from the sounds, what appears to be a porno channel.

“Damned scramblers can’t see anything good.” He glances up at her and grins, turning off the t.v. he gestures to the large suite. “Swanky place you got here. How’d you manage it?”

Buffy sighs, “The Watcher’s Council may no longer be operational but their bank accounts are.”

“Why aren’t you staying with the Prince of Prozac and his unable bodied crew of screw-em-ups?” He lounges out on the couch as Buffy continues to glare at him from her position in front of the bathroom.

“He’s living in an office filled with evil lawyers and demons. I didn’t want the girls to be uncomfortable. You know, Slayer senses and all that. And hey aren’t you being a little harsh? I thought you liked Angel and his crew. At least that’s what you said in heaven.”

“Ah. So you do remember more than peace and happiness from your time in heaven. The Powers were beginning to wonder.”

“What’s to wonder can’t they just read my mind, or heart, or whatever it is they read when they want to stick their noses into other beings business?”

“You know that’s not how it works kid. The Powers respect the private thoughts of all beings, especially their warriors.”

Buffy looks at him, an eyebrow raised. “What a bunch of BS Whistler.” Finally she looks away. “Whatever. You know what, I really don’t care about The Powers right now. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here? So I can put your visit out of my mind and concentrate on the new Slayers popping up all over the world.”

Whistler sighs and pushes himself up into a sitting position. “That’s why I’m here kid.”

Suspicious she slowly makes her way over to him. “What’s up?”

Whistler looks at her sympathetically. ‘I guess she doesn’t remember everything.’ “You’ve been feeling it, haven’t you? That something’s still not right with the world.”

“We just fought a war with more than a thousand Turok-Hans who were fighting for the very first evil. People died, young girls’ died. Please tell me what’s supposed to be right about that?”

“I could give you the whole ‘there are casualties in every war’ speech, but we both know that means shit when anyone is killed during a battle. We also know that’s not what I meant. You’ve done what you were supposed to do, and you’re no longer needed in this world kid.”

Buffy starts to get upset at this. “What do you mean I’m not needed? There are Slayer’s to be found and trained. Or are you on that little ‘Buffy’s gone too far kick’ that seemed to be going around earlier? Are you gonna kick me out of my hotel room?”

“No actually you’re being kicked out of this dimension.” Whistler states calmly.


Whistler stands and holds up his hands in what he hopes to be a placating manner, as the Slayer starts toward him. “Don’t shoot the messenger kid. This is coming from the big head herself. And anyway you agreed to the terms of you return to life.” That manages to stop her in her tracks, for which Whistler is eternally grateful. Facing a pissed off Slayer (especially one with this ones kill record) was not something on his to-do list.

“What terms? What are you babbling about Whistler? I suggest you get to the point or I’m going to rip out your spine and use as a putter.” She snarls.

Whistler winces at the imagery. “Gees kid that makes me almost long for the ole’ rib-cage into a hat threat.”

She crosses her arms again and begins to tap her foot in irritation. “Spill, mouthpiece.”

“Okay, okay. This is how it is. You are one of the greatest warriors, when you died you were out of the Powers reach. But when Red resurrected you, you became theirs once again. And since the Hellmouth is now nothing more than a great big pot hole, they feel you’re no longer needed here. But there are a lot of dimensions that are having problems. That the heroes of those worlds can’t deal with. So you’ll be the Powers . . . balancer so to speak.”

“Like you?” Buffy asks, scorn lacing her tone.

Whistler shoots her a dirty look. “No. Not like me. Me I’m completely non-confrontational, barring the occasional stubborn champion. I’m bound by very strict codes not to do more than show potential champions a more righteous path, but I can’t directly force them to do anything. While you, you’ll have no such codes. You’re also not gathering champions. You’re going to be sent to different dimensions, hopefully, helping the heros reach their full potential, and taking some of the pressure off of them.”

Buffy stares at him for a full minute, before throwing her head back and howling with laughter.

After about five minutes of listening to her slightly hysterical laughter, Whistler finally breaks in annoyed. “All right, all right. Quit with the guffawing kid, it isn’t that funny. In fact it’s not funny at all.”

Buffy starts to calm down, wiping tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry but you really had me going there for a minute. I mean what kind of godly being is going to allow a witch to rip someone out of Heaven, just so that they can have a tool to clean up the messes of other universes. I mean that’s insane.” She starts giggling again.

Whistler stares at her sadly. She finally stops laughing altogether. “Jesus’ you’re not joking are you. They’re really going to send me away.”

“I’m really sorry kid.”

Buffy falls into the chair behind her in shock. Finally she looks up at him. “What about my friends, my sister?”

“They’ll stay here and fight the good fight.”

She looks at him incredulously. “How can they expect me to leave them?”

“They just do.” He tells her, nearly overwhelmed by the grief resonating from the small blonde. Though she lets nothing of her inner turmoil show.

“Will I ever see them again?”

He shrugs, wishing that he had more answers. “Don’t know kid. The cards haven’t been drawn yet. Look all I know is that if you’re ever really needed in this world, you’ll be sent here.”

Buffy doesn’t appear to hear him. “How am I going to say goodbye to them?” Silent tears start to trickle down her face.

Whistler takes off his hat with one hand and rakes the other over his head. “Look kid, I’ll come back in three days. You have until then to say goodbye and get your affairs in order. Okay?” He asks carefully. Wanting to make sure that she actually hears him this time.

“O-okay.” She says. A fine tremor begins to run through her body.

He heads toward the door and opens it. Just before he closes it, he looks at her once more. “Remember kid, three days.”


Next Chapter: Revelations & Responses
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