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Part 1
Sunnydale High School’s library was completely empty as soon as the final bell rang. This was a fairly common occurrence, thanks to the warm California weather. The sun was shining bright and warm, inviting even the most dedicated summer school student to enjoy the great outdoors. The few who ventured into the dimly-lit home for books despite the temptation didn’t stay long, unconsciously trying to avoid the evil vibe coming from within. They assumed the vibe was school-related. Of course, they didn’t know that it was coming from the gate to Hell that resided just below the numerous research tables formed in the center of the room. As a result of both factors, the library had become sort of a safe haven for one Slayer and her Slayerettes.
“Okay, we’re just going to jump right in. When I say go, I want you to try to punch or kick me as hard as you can.” Buffy Summers wiped the sweat from her brow and assumed her fighting stance. She was clad in typical fighting gear--track pants and a tank top--used normally to fight the Hellmouth’s worst. But this time it wasn’t demons or vampires that she faced. It was her best friend, Willow Rosenberg.
“I’m not going to hurt you, am I Buffy?” Willow’s eyebrows knitted together in concern for her friend as she assumed a similar position.
“Go!” replied the energetic blond as if her friend’s comment needed no response. After all, Buffy had dealt with far worse pain. Willow gave her a small nod and began the assault, concentration masking her expression. Despite her petite stature and distaste for attacking her friends, she was getting in some high quality hits. They were probably a result of her summer as the Slayer’s replacement, but it was still a rather impressive demonstration of physical prowess. Buffy smiled proudly and glanced at the librarian standing in the doorway of his office.
“Hey Giles,” she began, dodging and blocking the numerous kicks and punches that flew towards her, “what do you think? Maybe I can finally take a vacation. I’m thinking Disneyland.” She paused to look for his response, and left herself open for a kick that sent her sprawling on the ground.
Willow stood above her, looking down at her friend. “Buffy?” she asked meekly, “are you okay?” She reached down her hand, offering to help her up. Her concerned expression faded when she saw the Slayer was laughing. Buffy took the proffered hand and quickly jumped to her feet.
“I’m fine, Will, really.” She paused to catch her breath and pulled her blond hair back into a ponytail. Rupert Giles set down the heavy book that had him pondering. He took off his glasses and began wiping them off--a nervous habit--and then walked over to where the two girls stood. Buffy turned her attention to him and sighed. “I know the drill. In every generation there is a Chosen ONE, that being me and no one else. She ALONE will stand against the vampires, demons and forces of darkness. She is the Slayer,” Buffy recited, mimicking the words spoken to her hundreds of times. She paused thoughtfully and gave him her trademark smirk, “Sort of like a one-man band.”
Giles was about to scold her for her misuse of the prophecy when Willow interrupted him. “But you’re not a one-man band, Buffy. You have us,” she said. Buffy smiled sadly and gestured for them to continue training.
Concern filled the eyes of the librarian as he watched them prepare for another round. As the Watcher, it was his job to make sure Buffy was doing hers correctly. At first, her friends were not a welcome addition to the mix. But over time, he had grown rather fond of his charge and her ‘Scooby Gang’. The many nights of research as well as their assistance against numerous enemies has proven them all to be capable allies and loyal friends.
Willow herself had proven to be an invaluable asset to the Slayer’s cause. Her skills at hacking into that dreaded computer had him impressed, and her recent discovery of practicing the Wiccan arts had him amazed, but her newfound talents as the Slayer’s apprentice had him utterly dumbfounded. He had been researching the reason for this newfound physical competence, but had yet to find answers. “Willow, I do not want you to use this as an excuse to put yourself in danger. You are not ready for the challenges that Buffy must face. Until I can find the reason for this-“ he stopped when he saw her emerald green eyes twinkle with anticipation.
“Time for deep-research mode,” she presumed. Giles nodded. Willow was, perhaps, the only girl in California who actually looked forward to a night of research.
Buffy inhaled the soft scents of summer that drafted through the dark cemetery. A faint yet sweet scent of lilacs was interwoven within the cool breeze, accompanied by that of grass cut only hours ago and flowers strewn carefully over freshly dug graves. Various other scents danced around her, but there was one in particular that caught her attention. It was the stench of death.
A shrill scream broke the silence. The Slayer immediately froze, then reached for the stake she had waiting in her bag of tricks. That bag was then discarded as she raced towards the screaming. It was right past the large tombs on the northwest corner. It seemed like years before she reached it, but she did. She froze.
There stood her best friend, clad in a white tank top and black leather pants reminiscent of her vampire twin of the other dimension. Her fiery red hair danced around her face, shadowing over the mask of rage that was her expression. Buffy could only stand and stare as she watched her quiet, meek little friend let out a second shrill of rage and finished pounding into two vampires at once. Again. She kicked the first one in the stomach, sending him flying into the open door of a tomb. Without hesitation, she then spun to the other, dusting him with a stake that appeared from nowhere. With a smug confidence similar to the Slayer’s, Willow smiled faintly, then turned back to do the same to the first one. He was gone.
“Willow?” Buffy found her voice, but could not contain the amazement in its tone. Willow spun to face the Slayer, stake poised for attack. She dropped it immediately when she saw who spoke. Her face reddened as green eyes met hazel, then dropped to the ground.
“Uh, hey Buffy. What brings you here?” Willow asked, trying desperately to sound nonchalant.
She failed. “Nice attempt at casual,” Buffy replied. Then she remembered the question and answered cheerfully, “I was supposed to do the patrol thing tonight. You know--go to the graveyard, stake a few Vamps, go home--but it looks like my job here is finished.” Willow smiled weakly at her friend’s sarcasm. Buffy continued, “Seriously, Will, what’s going on here?”
The two girls began walking through the musty night, dodging tombstones as they continued their conversation. Willow seemed lost in thought, so the normally impatient Buffy waited in silence for her to begin an explanation. Finally, she started. “Do you remember when the Vampire Willow was here?”
Buffy made a face, remembering the chaos brought out by that little ‘episode’.
Willow continued, “Do you remember the conversation we had when she was locked in the book cage? I was freaking out, ‘cause she was all violent and stuff, and you said that a vampire’s personality has nothing to do with the person that once was.”
She nodded, recollecting the events clearly. “Yeah, I remember. Then Angel agreed,” she recalled.
“Did he?” Willow asked rhetorically. Then she paused as if to change the subject. “I never believed in fate until I met you, Buffy. But then all of a sudden, I’m reading these books that predict your every move. I’m seeing other dimensions, places where all our lives are STILL intertwined. And I realized something. You moving here, Angel’s return from hell, my evil twin… It’s happening for a reason. I think it’s changing all of us.”
Buffy gestured to her friend’s outfit, hoping a joke would ease some of the emotional tension. “Well it certainly brought out your passion for leather,” she teased. Then her face returned to its previous seriousness as she watched her friend try to laugh. “I understand. I do. All those powers and all that responsibility, they make you feel invincible and powerless all at once. You question everything. I went through the same thing when I was called.”
Willow’s eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully. “I think it’s more complicated than that. But I don’t know what it is, or how to explain it the right way,” she said. Buffy watched her friend’s face change with the many emotions she felt. For once in her life, the Chosen One was speechless. She could think of no response to her friend’s confession, no addition to their conversation. Instead, the Slayer and her counterpart walked in comfortable silence back to the library. They were so wrapped up in their thoughts, neither bothered to notice the man in the shadows who watched the whole thing.
Alexander Harris looked at the massive book laid out in front of him and sighed. It had to have about a million pages. He was so sick of reading he seriously considered gouging his eyes out. Of course, one of them was already black and blue from the previous night, but he contemplated giving it a twin. It was nearly four in the afternoon when they began researching, and now it was a little after midnight. They had been reading for about eight hours in books on every imaginable topic. They were stacked everywhere--on the floor, tables, and chairs, even under Cordelia Chase’s sleeping head.
He glanced lovingly at her peaceful expression and grinned. Not too long ago, Cordelia was trapped in a superficial world of credit cards and shopping malls, caring only about her popularity. Eventually, she became aware of the monsters that resided in Sunnydale. It was because of these dangers that “Queen Cordelia” slowly befriended the Slayerettes and surprisingly became a valuable member of their group. Then Cordelia’s life crumbled, starting with Xander’s infidelity and ending with her family’s bankruptcy. To escape, she moved to LA and somehow ended up working for Angel.
He reached out and brushed a piece of silky brown hair off of her face. Xander’s grin widened as he remembered their first kiss. The two were declared mortal enemies, constantly insulting and belittling each other. Both were so ashamed of their budding relationship, they literally kept it in the closet. It was Willow who discovered them, forcing them both to face reality. He was glad they did. For as long as he could remember, Willow was doing something to set him straight. < Willow. >
The thought of his childhood friend brought him crashing back to Earth. Xander wished she could be there with him. She left, saying she couldn’t just sit still and read, but he assumed it had to do with sitting in the same room as Cordelia and him. Then again, Willow wasn’t herself lately. In the sense of being someone completely different. He couldn’t figure out what was going on with her. One minute, she was the quiet, thoughtful girl he’d grown to love, and the next she was outspoken, wild, and spontaneous. The old Willow could sit and research for hours and love every minute of it. Now… he had to know what was happening. Inspired, he returned to his book just in time to be interrupted.
“Yes!" the exuberant shout came from Giles’ office. Xander jumped to his feet.
Cordelia’s head popped up. “It’s morning already?” she asked, confused. She took in her surroundings, remembering where she was. Realization flickered on her face. “Oh.” Irritated, she looked over to her boyfriend, awaiting a reason for disturbing her beauty sleep.
He knew the unanswered question. “Not me. That was the G-man.” He reached down his hand and helped her to her feet. They walked into the office and their jaws dropped. The room was normally a little cluttered, but it turned into a disaster area. Not one spot on the floor or desk was cleared, and the librarian’s condition was worse. Dark circles were formed under his eyes, although they now glowed with renewed exuberance and relief.
The Watcher smiled up at them; “I found the answer. The Book of Prophesies predicts that the Slayer will fall and another shall take her place. At the beginning, I thought that meant a new Slayer becoming Faith’s replacement. But a translation of the text shows the replacement of the Slayer is not one herself.” The normally reserved librarian was so jazzed by information he forgot to breathe between sentences.
Cordelia’s eyebrow shot up. She needed clarification. “In English?”
Normally, Xander would break in with some kind of witty comment to disguise his confusion. He was too tired for that, now. And he wasn’t confused. “Willow’s the new Slayer,” he ventured.
“No, not exactly,” Giles said. “Her-um-powers are only temporary. They last only as long as she is needed.”
“How long is that?” Willow’s quiet voice interrupted the conversation and they all turned their attention to her. They observed her appearance, beyond surprised that the girl they all knew would voluntarily wear such an outfit. Usually, fuzzy sweaters and schoolgirl skirts were her style.
“Willow?” The shocked statement came from Xander. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. Your new look’s kinda recycled now, isn’t it? He then turned his gaze to the other members of the group for their responses. Cordelia’s other eyebrow joined the first as a look of astonishment crossed her face. Giles was frozen, mouth dropped.
Buffy smiled from behind the petite redhead, then chimed into the conversation, “Fashion tip, Giles. Mouth looks better closed.” The librarian’s mouth immediately snapped shut, and still no words came out of anyone else’s. The group stood silently for what seemed like years before Cordelia broke it with one observation. She never was good at tact. “Guess you got past that ‘Sears’ phase while I was gone, huh.” The rest of the group turned to look at the brunette. “What?”
It was nearing 2 a.m. and they were seated at one of the numerous research tables waiting for Giles to finish translating from his prophecy book. Cordelia and Xander sat at the end of the table, talking quietly to Willow. Buffy occasionally joined the conversation, but spent most of the time watching Giles. Eventually, he sat back in his chair.
“So what’s the what?” asked Buffy. She spent enough time around Giles to recognize his ‘uh-oh’ face. The Watcher pushed his glasses farther on his nose and looked up at her with worried eyes.
“The end of the world,” he said softly. The room suddenly got quiet as the rest of the group turned their attention over to them. The others didn’t take notice to the amount of cryptic in his voice, but Buffy did. It worried her more than the actual message.
“Didn’t we do that last week?” Xander asked. Buffy mostly ignored him as she searched Giles’ expression. She vaguely noticed Cordelia pinch the male Slayerette’s arm. “Ow!”
“Xander, this is terribly serious,” said Giles, momentarily distracted. He then turned back to Buffy, his face vacuous.
“Read it, Giles,” she said sternly. If he wasn’t gonna say it outright, she wanted to hear the prophesized words. He gave her a nod and turned his attention to the pages.
“The fall of the moon and the sun disappeared, consequences chosen by an enemy revered. A different world, Hell on Earth, the Innocent shall suffer by darkness rebirth. Good versus evil in a fight to the death, the chosen one watches as he draws his last breath. Evil, darkness, fear prevails, all is as it should be when bravery fails.” A chill ran down the Slayer’s spine, and she finally understood why Giles was acting so creepy.
“Wow,” Willow said under her breath.
Xander caught her statement. “Yeah, even the translation rhymes,” he cracked.
“THAT was the translation? I’d hate to read the original,” Cordelia chimed in.
Giles frowned. “Well the translations are a bit, um, cryptic, but the message seems to be quite clear.”
“And that is what? Get a new translator?” Cordelia retorted. Giles gave her a stern look, then turned back to Buffy.
“It means someone’s gonna open the Hellmouth, and I’m destined NOT to stop it,” she answered, feeling sick to her stomach. Angrily, she slammed her fist onto the table. “Why am I always destined to fail?” she asked no one in particular. The others, alarmed by her outburst, merely stared in reply. “Can’t I ever be happy? No! No happy’s for Buffy! Instead, she gets a lifetime of prophecies, curses and happiness clauses, all because those damned prophets said so! First, I got to die by the Master. Then I got to send my boyfriend to Hell! Now, I find out Hell’s coming to Earth and all I get is a front row seat to watch the whole thing go down. Not fight. Not beat the bad guy, not save the day, but WATCH.”
“Buffy--” Giles tried to break in.
“No, Giles. Watching is YOUR job, not mine. I’m the Slayer, damn it. I FIGHT.” With that, Buffy jumped from her chair and grabbed her coat. She turned and stomped out of the room, pausing momentarily at the exit door. Without looking back, she took a deep breath. She could get as angry as she wanted, but the prophecy wasn’t going to go anywhere. It needed to be dealt with and she was the one to do it. More calmly, Buffy said to the door, “Giles, find a way to stop this. I don’t give a damn about what the prophecy book says. Find an anti-prophecy book to cancel it out. Whatever. Just help me fix this.”
“Buffy…” This time it was Willow who softly called her name.
She turned to the redhead and said softly, “Go get Angel.”
Her best friend’s expression was confused before Buffy continued, “He was the key to awaking Acathla and opening the portal to Hell. He kinda has experience in this area, so they’ll probably look for him.” Then she turned and walked out the door.
Willow walked through the moonlight to Angel’s home thinking about the past. Once, the Wicca-in-training opened a portal into a different dimension. She was helping Anya, a girl from school, perform a spell to retrieve her necklace from another dimension. She accidentally opened the portal and brought back an evil vampire version of herself instead. Most people couldn’t even get close.
The thought of her accomplishments in the black and not-so-black arts made her both proud and scared at the same time.
Willow was so lost in such thoughts she didn’t even pay attention to her surroundings. Strangely, her newfound ‘spider sense’ did not go off once while she was out. In fact, she did not see one vampire during her moonlit walk. As she entered the corridor the led to the old mansion, she prayed it was because the night was almost over. The cold air made her shiver as she reached her destination. She knocked on the door and waited, but there was no answer. She tested the doorknob. It opened.
“Angel? Are you here?” Willow asked cautiously as she entered. Once again, there was no answer. < He’s probably out feeding, or whatever vampires do at night. I can wait. > The Slayerette sat on the couch, stifling a yawn. Her elbow was rested on the arm of the couch, head rested in her hand. She closed her eyes.