The Summers of Our Discontent
By Gaeriel Mallory

NOTE: I haven’t watched Buffy in a long while (not since she died) and past episodes have become rather hazy in my brain due to college and the heavy memorization needed for biology. Something had to give. So forgive me for any inaccuracies on the Buffy side of the spectrum. As for X-men, this is in the movieverse continuity—mainly because the comics got too complicated for me to follow after a while. Consider if future movieverse. :) Hope you all enjoy! And yes, there is a sequel in the planning stages (i.e. rolling around in my brain). And kudos if you pick up on the Shakespeare reference!
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. The X-men are the property of Marvel Comics and Twentieth Century Fox. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and related characters are the property of Josh Whedon and Mutant Enemy.

Chapter One ~ Chapter Two ~ Chapter Three ~ Chapter Four

Chapter One:

Buffy Summers stared at her father in shock. “What?!?”

Hank Summers looked at her eldest daughter. “I’m sorry, Buffy. I know how much you two love each other, but face it. You’re only twenty, barely an adult yourself. How can you take care of Dawn?”

She glared at her father. “I’ve been taking care of her just fine! You don’t need to ship her off to some boarding school all the way across the country.”

“Buffy, there is no way that you can take care of a fourteen year old. You’re still in college for God’s sake. And I’m away all the time on business. Look, this is for the best. Your cousin teaches at the school as at least she’ll have family.”

“I’m her family.” Her chin clenched. More family than you ever were, she thought spitefully.

“And I’m her father. You’re only her sister.”

Mentally, Buffy snorted. Right, only her sister who moonlights as the Slayer and who is the one person keeping her safe. “I won’t let you do this. Sunnydale is Dawn’s home. All her friends are here; you can’t just take her away!”

Hank shook his head. “Buffy, I wish there was another way, but this is for the best. Look, Scott and his wife are flying in tonight. Try to be civil, at least, please?”

She got up from her seat without answering her father and walked out of the house. She had to talk to Giles.

*          *          *

Dawn jumped up from her seat on Giles’ couch. “No! I’m not leaving!”

The former Watcher took off his glasses and sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Dawn, he is your father, and therefore has legal guardianship over you.”

“I’m not even real! I don’t exist, remember? I don’t have a father!”

Buffy walked over and hugged her sister. “Everything is going to be all right. I won’t let them take you away from me.” She looked down at Dawn’s tear-streaked face. “If I have to, I’ll follow you to that school in New York.”

Giles bit back an exclamation at the thought of the Slayer leaving the Hellmouth undefended. “There is another thing to consider.” When the two Summers sisters looked at him, he added, “Glory.”

Buffy’s lips tightened at the mention of the insane hell goddess. “What about her?”

“She’s after the Key. It might be safer for Dawn if there was a continent between the two.”

“You mean you’re just going to let Dawn be taken away from me? Whatever happened to protecting her? How can I protect her when I’m here and she’s in New York?” Buffy glared at Giles.

“You can protect her by defeating Glory once and for all. Once she’s dead, then Dawn can come back here. But so long as Dawn is in Sunnydale, there is the chance that Glory will realize just what form the Key is in.”

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here! But oh wait, that’s right. I’m not real, am I?” Dawn ran out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

*          *          *

Scott Summers exited the rental car and looked over at his wife, Jean Grey. She smiled at him. “Nervous?”

“I haven’t seen them in years. And the fact that I’m here for their mother’s funeral and then to take one of them away…I wouldn’t be surprised if they hate me.”

Jean hugged him with one arm as they walked up the pathway to the house. “They won’t hate you. Resent you, possibly, for what you’re going to do, but they’ll get over it. They’re only children.”

“Buffy’s not a child.”

“But she is young. She’ll learn that you mean well.” She kissed him on the cheek. “If anything, she’ll probably be more mad at her father than at you. After all, this wasn’t your idea.”

He sighed as he rang the doorbell. “I hope you’re right. And I hope that Dawn can adjust to what the Institute really is.”

The door opened at a dark haired man looked out. “Scott? Is that you? I thought you weren’t coming until tonight!”

“We caught an earlier flight. Uncle Hank,” Scott hugged his uncle. “It’s been a long time.”

Hank opened the door wider. “Come in! Where are your bags?”

“In the car. We were planning on getting a hotel--”

His uncle cut him off. “Nonsense. You’re staying here. You’re family, after all.”

Buffy walked in from the other room talking on the phone. “Yeah, Cordy. There’s plenty of room here. It’ll be a tight squeeze but Dawn and I can share.” Seeing the two newcomers, her face turned expressionless and she turned around and walked back into the kitchen. “Ok, I’ll see all of you tonight then.”

Scott and Jean exchanged glances. “Are you sure, Uncle Hank? I mean, this is Buffy’s house and it sounds like she’s having people stay here too. It would be no trouble…”

Hank cut him off again. “You’re family. Buffy’s friends can stay here or somewhere else, but there’s no way I’m letting my nephew get a room in those cheap motels they have in this town.”

“I don’t want to intrude…”

“You won’t. I’ll help you get your bags.” Hank Summers than walked out the door leaving Scott and Jean to follow.

*          *          *

Dawn found Spike getting drunk at his crypt. “Spike?” She gently tapped him on the shoulder.

He rolled bloodshot eyes at her. “Oh, it’s you. What do you want?”

She looked at the vampire. “Are you all right?”

Spike looked at his flask in disgust. “No, little bit, I’m not all right. Tomorrow, my friend is going to be buried.” He took a long drag from the flask.

Dawn reached over and took the flask from him. “This isn’t the answer.”

“You’ve been hanging around your do-gooder sis too long,” he complained but he made no move to reclaim the container. He stared at the stone wall for a long time, not talking. Finally, he spoke up. “How are you holding up?”

Dawn played with the flask in her hands. “I’ve been better. Dad wants to send me to some school in New York. Doesn’t think Buffy can take care of me.”

“Why can’t the bloke take care of you himself?”

She snorted. “Dad? Yeah right. Having a daughter around will just cut into his time to chase women.”

“Sounds like a real winner, your pop.”

“Oh yeah. He’s father of the year.” Dawn felt a tear slid down her cheek. “I don’t want to leave.”

“Why not?” Spike looked at her. “Seems to me that at least you’ll be safe from Glory.”

Dawn threw the flask against the wall. Spike started. “Hey, watch that! I’ve had that for fifty years!”

“I’m sick and tired of people trying to tell me what I should do to stay safe! What about what I want? All everyone seems to care about is that I’m some stupid Key and that if Glory gets me, the world goes to hell.” She whirled around and shouted, “It’s not fair!”

Spike gently enveloped her in a hug. “I know it’s not fair, nibblet. But sometimes, that’s the way it is.” He held her as she cried into his leather jacket. He stared mournfully into space. “That’s just the way it is,” he repeated.

*          *          *

“Buffy, where’s Dawn?”

She glared at her father. “What? Now you care about your daughter? Too bad you’re shipping her off to New York so that you don’t have to think about her again.”

“Buffy, please don’t do this,” Hank begged.

“Don’t do what? Don’t tell you what a terrible father you’ve been? Don’t make you realize that you don’t even remember that you have children most of the time? Or maybe don’t make you feel guilty that the only reason you’re here visiting is because Mom is dead and her funeral’s tomorrow! What the hell don’t you want me to do?” Her voice had been rising and her hands clenched into fists. She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around, grabbed the hand and slammed Scott into the wall.

When she realized what she had done, she let him go. “Don’t sneak up on me,” she warned him before pushing past Jean to leave the kitchen.

Scott rubbed his shoulder and winced. “That’s some daughter you have there.” He adjusted his red-tinted glasses.

Hank sighed and shook his head. “She’s right. I’m a terrible father.”

Jean spoke up. “Buffy was angry and she lashed out. She has gone through so much and there’s so much frustration in her.”

“Doesn’t make her any less right.” Hank sat down at the island in the middle of the kitchen and put his head on his hands. “Where did I go wrong?”

“I can’t answer that for you, Mr. Summers. Only you can.” Jean took her husband’s hand and led him out of the room, leaving Hank alone with his thoughts.

*          *          *

Night had fallen and Buffy was itching to go out and kill something. She had to wait for Angel and Cordelia to arrive, though, before she could patrol. She was worried about Dawn; she still had not come home yet. Sunnydale was not a town you wanted to be out in after dark.

The doorbell rang and she got up to answer it. When she saw Xander, Willlow, Anya, and Tara on the other side, she nearly cried. Xander hugged her. “Thought we’d come and give you some moral support when Deadboy gets here.”

“Thanks, guys. This means a lot.”

Willow smiled. “We’re friends. This is what we do. ‘Sides, I want to see just how much Cordelia’s changed first hand. I wouldn’t believe it otherwise.”

Buffy gave a watery chuckle as they moved to the living room. She had just sat down when she heard the door open again. “Anyone home?” Giles’ voice called out.

“In here,” she answered. He walked into the room and took a seat next to Buffy on the couch.

“So, I take it that everyone had the same idea?”

Anya nodded. “Yup. Moral support for Buffy so that when she sees her old boyfriend who she turned evil when they had sex and then sent to hell…”

Xander broke in. “Anya…tact, remember?”

Buffy smiled a little. “It’s all right Xander,” she said, even though Anya’s words had just increased her nervousness.

Scott poked his head into the room. “Hi! You must be Buffy’s friends,” he said cheerfully. When Buffy made no move to introduce him, he walked into the room. “I’m her cousin Scott.”

Giles shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure. Rupert Giles.” The others added their own introductions as Buffy studiously ignored her cousin.

Finally, Giles sighed at her. “Buffy? Are you all right? Aren’t you going to say something to Scott?”

She looked up and started to open her mouth when the doorbell rang again. “That must be Angel.” She ran out of the room.

Scott looked after her. “It’s all right,” he told Giles. “Thanks for trying.”

The Watcher shook his head. “She should at least be civil to you.”

“I can’t say that she has much cause to be. To her, I’m the embodiment of all that she has gone through these past few months with her mother. She lost Aunt Joyce, and now here I am to take Dawn away from her too.”

Xander coughed. “Yeah, about that…Do you really have to? I mean, we love Dawnie. We can take care of her real good here.”

Scott shook his head ruefully. “It’s not my decision. It’s Uncle Hank’s.”

Buffy reentered the room followed by three people: two men and a woman. “I think you know everyone here except for Tara,” she told them. The blond witch waved shyly at the trio. “Tara, this is Angel, Cordelia, and Wesley.”

Giles cleared his throat and stared pointedly at her. Buffy sighed and waved in Scott’s general direction. “And that’s my cousin Scott.”

Turning back to the L.A. trio, she remarked, “Hope you don’t mind sleeping on the floor. My dad decided to have some unexpected houseguests.”

Angel glanced over at Scott. “No, it’s fine, Buffy. Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, well, the funeral’s tomorrow night so there’s no problem with anyone attending. I had to pull a few strings, but it worked out. You can just grab your bags and I’ll show you to your rooms.” She walked up the stairs and after smiling at everyone, the three followed.

Almost immediately, Buffy returned downstairs wearing a leather jacket. “I’m going out,” she called into the living room.

Scott frowned. “This late?” he asked her.

She smirked. “It’s a small town. What could happen?” She then walked out the front door.

*          *          *

Spike had insisted on walking Dawn home. She tried to be annoyed at his overprotectiveness, but in reality, she enjoyed his company. They walked in silence through the darkened streets. Finally stopping in front of the Summers house, Spike turned to the girl. “Do you want me to come in with you, pet?”

Dawn fidgeted a bit. “Would you? I don’t know if I can face Buffy and Giles after what I said to them.”

The vampire laid a hand on her shoulder. “Not to worry, love. It will all come out right in the end.”

Dawn opened the door and opened it quietly. She heard voices in the other room; she recognized those of the Scoobies and she headed into the living room. Angel was sitting on the floor but he jumped up when he saw her. “Dawn!” He hugged her before looking down at her face. “How are you doing?”

She shrugged. “Been better.”

Angel looked past her. “Spike.” His voice was carefully neutral.

“Poofster.” Spike mock saluted him. The souled vampire only glared in return.

“Where’s Buffy?” Dawn looked around for her sister.

“She went out.” Scott frowned as he took in the disreputable looking man who had come in with his younger cousin. “And you are?”

“Spike to you, four-eyes.” The vampire sneered. Dawn hit him lightly before turning to her cousin. “Hey, Scott.”

Spike cleared his throat. “Well, I can see that everyone here is settled in so I’ll just head out. Maybe I’ll run into Buffy and help her kill something.” He disappeared out the door. Behind him, he heard Scott ask, “Kill something?”

*          *          *

The vampire got up off the ground and growled at her. “Yeah, come on. I’ve had a really bad day and beating you to a bloody pulp is making me feel better.” Buffy kicked the vampire in the head. “Releasing my frustrations and anger out on the undead population of Sunnydale. My psych professor would have said that I had unresolved issues.” She staked him and he turned to dust. “Too bad she’s dead.”

Putting her stake back into the pocket of her jacket, she continued down the street. She thought about what Giles had said earlier, about how Dawn would be safe in New York. She’s still my sister, and I was given a duty to protect her. She kicked a rock that was lying on the ground and it shot up into the air and landed on the roof of a nearby building. Maybe the best way to protect her is to get her away from here, a nagging part of her mind whispered. Have you thought that maybe Giles was right? So long as she’s here and near you, she will always be in danger, simply because of who you are.

Shut up, she told the voice.

The voice, however, persisted. As long as Dawn’s here, she’s a liability. You’ll always be watching out for her. She deserves a normal life.

What had happened to her chance of a normal life? It had gone away when she was fifteen and Merrick had found her and put a stake into her hand. “This is your destiny,” he had told her. “You cannot renounce it. It will always be a part of you.”

Buffy hugged herself. There will be no more carefree nights for her. No giggling with friends over cute guys or spending hours on the phone talking about nothing. No—normal was not for Buffy Summers.

But maybe she could give Dawn a chance at it. The Slayer headed for the butcher’s. She’ll pick up some blood for Angel before heading home.

            *          *

Scott and Jean were sitting out on the front steps when Buffy got back home. “You know, you really should stay indoors at night,” she told them.

Her cousin looked up at her. “I thought you said this was a small town. ‘What can happen,’ remember?”

She shrugged as she gracefully sat down on the walkway, putting the bag with the container of pig’s blood down beside her. “So I might have exaggerated.” She felt the wooden stake in her pocket poke into her side and she adjusted her jacket. “About earlier, I want to apologize about how I acted.”

Jean looked at her with bright green eyes. “We’re here to take your sister away from you. It’s only natural that you would be ambivalent towards us.”

“And it sure didn’t help that Uncle Hank invited us to stay here, in your home, without talking to you first.”

Buffy shrugged again and looked at the ground. “It’s not your fault. I’ve been really stressed out lately over everything and…well…it’s still no excuse. Bottom line, I was rude to you and I’m sorry.”

Scott nodded. “Apology accepted. Now, I think you should head back inside before Angel kills your father. Uncle Hank hasn’t exactly been the most polite to your friends.”

Buffy picked up the bag again and got up. Smiling slightly, she said, “I suppose I should. He is my dad, like it or not.” She headed inside.

Jean reached over and put an arm around Scott’s waist. “What are you thinking about, honey?”

“About the unfairness of life. They have a deadbeat for a father and their mother just died; and now they’re going to be separated. It’s just not right.” He shook his head, causing a lock of hair to fall over his glasses.

She reached out and tucked the hair back into place. “The same could be said of you. Both your parents died and you were shuffled around from orphanage to foster home to orphanage when you were younger. You were separated from your bother. And then you discovered you could shoot beams out of your eyes. It seems to me that you’ve gone through just as much if not more than Buffy and Dawn. They’ll survive. You did, and your experiences helped form the man I fell in love with.” She kissed his cheek.

He looked at her. “Have you been looking into their heads? Do you know what they really think of me?”

She shook her head. “It would be betraying their trust.” She got up and dusted off the seat of her pants. “You coming back inside?”

“In a minute. I want to think a bit.”

She smiled as she opened the door. “Don’t stay out too late.” She went inside and shut the door behind her.

*          *          *

Spike wandered the streets, taking a sip from his metal flask every few steps. “You hate me, don’t you?” he asked the Powers that Be. “I’ve been alive for two hundred years, and in that time, I’ve found one person who treated me like I was normal. One! And then you take her away.” He took another gulp and let the brandy slide down his throat, savoring the fiery path it left in its wake.

“Why?” he screamed at the sky. “Is this punishment for all that I’ve done over the centuries?” He kicked a mailbox and it broke into two.

“Because if it is, then you’re punishing the wrong people. The Slayer doesn’t deserve this! She’s on your bloody side! And Dawn! It’s not fair to her. She just found out that she’s not even real! Well screw you! All of you! You can take your sodding Powers and stick them up your ass!”

The vampire lay on the ground and put his head in his hands, sobbing.

“Hey, buddy, are you all right?” A hand gently shook his shoulder. Spike looked up and blinked blurrily. His vision swam for a moment before focusing onto the worried face of Scott Summers.

“Hey, four-eyes,” he said before letting his face fall onto the ground again. He heard Scott sigh and felt the other man help him up.

“Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

The vampire looked around him and saw that he had somehow ended up on Buffy’s street again. The mailbox he had killed had belonged to one of her neighbors. “Oh shit,” he muttered. “She’s going to kill me.”

“Who’s going to kill you?” Scott asked as he half-carried Spike towards the Summers house.

“Buffy.” Spike said. “Has this little thing against me breaking stuff.”

Scott chuckled. “Do you break a lot of stuff?”

“Oh sure; it’s fun. But Buffy always stops me; bloody Slayer.”

“Slayer?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. The Chosen One. The one girl in each generation blah blah blah. Basically, the biggest party pooper in existence.”

“Sure.” Scott shook his head and laughed under his breath. People sure say the strangest things when they’re drunk.

“I mean, she never lets me kill anybody.” Spike snorted. “Right. She shacks up with the Scourge of Europe who has a higher body count than me yet kicks my ass when I even think about biting one insignificant person. Course, now with the bloody chip in my head, that’s not too much of a problem anymore.” His voice turned mournful. “But she still takes this perverse pleasure in hitting me any chance she gets.”

“The Slayer?” Scott maneuvered the inebriated vampire up the front steps.

“Yeah. Poor Slayer…After all that’s happened to her…” his voice trailed off and Scott realized that the other man had passed out.

“Great.” He turned the doorknob and shoved open the door. “A little help here?” he called into the house.

Buffy walked down the stairs and her face twisted into a look of disgust when she saw Spike. “Wonderful. He managed to drink himself into a stupor.”

“Um, Buffy, what do you want to do with him? He’s kinda heavy.” Scott struggled to keep a hold of Spike.

She took a hold of his other side and led Scott into the living room. “Just dump him on the couch,” she told her cousin. She then glared at the unconscious form draped over the sofa. “I can handle it from here.”

“Are you sure? Why don’t you go back to your friends upstairs and I can get him tucked in.”

She shook her head. “I’ll do it.”

Scott shrugged and went upstairs to the guest bedroom where he and Jean were staying. He walked past Dawn’s room and saw it full of Buffy’s friends. They were talking and sharing stories. He shook his head as he opened the door to his room. What I wouldn’t give to have a normal life like that, just for a moment.

*          *          *

After Scott went upstairs, she easily picked up the vampire and carried him into the basement. “I should leave you to get fried by the sun, you know,” she told him as she dumped him onto the air mattress that she had put out for Angel, who would now have to find another place to sleep.

She took off his jacket and his boots and laid a blanket over him. She looked down at him for a moment before smiling sadly. “I think you’re taking Mom’s death the hardest. Guess you do have a heart after all, Spike.”

She then headed back upstairs.

*          *          *

The next morning, Giles came over in order to cook breakfast for everyone. Buffy’s skills lay more in staking vampires, not cooking. He juggled the bag of groceries as he hunted for the key that Buffy had given him. Opening the back door, he was surprised to see Scott Summers and Jean Grey moving around the kitchen. Appetizing smells wafted through the air to where he stood.

“Oh, hello.” He stammered as he put the groceries on the island. “It seems that you had the same idea as I did.”

Scott flashed him a grin. “Pull up a chair. You can cut up vegetables for the omelets.”

Giles nodded as he took out a cutting board and knife. He set them down at the island and started unpacking the paper bag. Selecting a tomato from his early morning grocery trip, he started chopping.

One by one, people drifted downstairs to find the source of the smells that had wakened them from sleep. When Buffy walked in, she smiled at Giles before walking over and hugging her cousin. “Thanks, Scott,” she told him as she accepted an omelet. The Watcher nodded in approval as he observed the easy manner between the two. It seemed that they had patched things up between them.

Cordelia sauntered into the kitchen, still yawning. “He’s cute and he cooks,” she commented. “You’re one lucky woman,” she told Jean as she took a seat at the table. The red-haired woman just smiled and kissed her husband on the cheek.

“Where’s Angel?” Jean asked as she looked around the crowded kitchen. The vampire was the only one missing.

Wesley took a sip of his coffee. “He’s still sleeping. I’m afraid that he’s more of a night person than a day person.”

Scott poured more egg into the frying pan. “I’ll just make an omelet for him then. He can reheat it whenever he gets up.”

Buffy shook her head. “You’d just be wasting food. He won’t eat it.”

“Why not?” Scott looked over at his cousin, brushing hair away from his glasses.

“Um…well, he has a weak stomach. He has a mostly liquid diet.” Buffy mentally kicked herself. Smooth, Summers. Real smooth.

Scott shrugged. “Anyone want more?” he asked as he expertly flipped the egg over.

“I’ll take it.” Hank Summers held out his plate. He looked over at his eldest daughter. “Buffy, I hate to do this to you, but I’m going to have to leave just after the funeral tonight. There’s this big merger that is going down and I need to be in Greece by tomorrow.”

Buffy’s lips tightened and her hand clenched around her fork, warping the metal. “Running away again, Dad? Don’t worry; we’ve gotten used to it.” She slammed the fork down onto the counter and went over the refrigerator and pulled out a paper bag. “I’ll just give Angel his breakfast,” she informed the room at large before marching out of the room.

Hank shook his head. “I did it again, didn’t I?” He sighed and got up. “I think I’ll take a walk.” He opened the back door and left.

Awkward silence fell over the room. Dawn had been conspicuously silent throughout breakfast. She had toyed with her food and for the most part, her omelet lay untouched on her plate. Cordelia, who was sitting next to the girl, reached out and hugged her with one arm. “Come on, Dawnie. You’ve got to eat.”

Dawn put a bite into the mouth and chewed and swallowed. She then put down her fork and got up. “I’m done. I’m going to see how Spike’s doing.” She looked to Giles in question and the Brit just pointed towards the basement door. She smiled shakily and went downstairs.

“Poor child,” Jean commented as she stared after Dawn. “She’s gone through so much.”

Giles, Cordelia, and Wesley looked at each other. A common thought ran through their minds: She has no idea.

*          *          *

Jean and Scott had insisted on doing the dishes. They figured that the others would need some time to prepare for the funeral, both mentally and emotionally in addition to physically. Of the group, they had been the two who had known Joyce the least.

Jean frowned when she picked up the fork that Buffy had used. “Scott, look at this.”

He felt his eyes widen when he took in the damaged utensil. He took the fork from his wife and tried to bend it and failed. “How?”

“Could Buffy be a mutant?” Jean asked.

He shook his head in puzzlement. “I don’t know. There was never any sign of this when she was growing up, but then, I haven’t seen her in years. I suppose it’s possible…”

“You’re going to have to talk to her. If she is, Xavier’s Institute may be the best place for her.” She added gently, “At least she’ll be with her sister.”

He smiled slightly, still studying the fork. “There is that,” he murmured. He had been feeling guilty about having to split up Buffy and Dawn. “But Buffy’s an adult. She has a life here. She may not want to leave.”

“You’ll never know if you don’t ask her.” Jean took the fork back from Scott and tossed it in the trashcan. “Now, are you going to finish washing those dishes?”

*          *          *

Shortly before nightfall, Spike emerged from the basement, holding his head. He moaned at the light from the lamps and closed his eyes. “Someone stop the ringing.”

Buffy shoved a mug and a bottle of painkillers at him. She scowled at him. “Here. We’re going to be leaving soon. Try and make yourself presentable.”

The vampire glowered at the animal blood in the mug. He finally sighed and downed the red liquid followed by two aspirin.

Scott and Jean descended the stairs dressed soberly in black. “Ready?” the red head asked as she checked the contents of her purse.

Angel emerged from the living room and for a moment, Buffy stared at him, struck at his handsomeness. After a moment, she mentally shook herself. Not for you, Slayer. Never for you again, she thought with regret. She checked to make sure she had several stakes on her person. The funeral was being held at night—and the trouble she had gone through to make that happen!—and there was always a chance of undead party crashers. It was part of the price of living on a Hellmouth.

The Scoobies were waiting outside, their features gloomy. Buffy hugged each one. “Thanks for coming,” she whispered.

The group headed for the cemetery.

*          *          *

Hank Summers watched as the coffin was lowered into the ground. He did not understand why his daughter had been so adamant about holding the interment after dark; cemeteries were creepy enough during the daytime, but at night?

He felt a wave of regret. He had tried to be a good husband and father. He had failed, miserably. Perhaps he had not deserved to succeed. Was not meant to. For a moment, he wondered what his life would have been like if there had been no divorce. Would he have been happy?

He would never know now.

*          *          *

Spike felt as if his long-dead heart had been ripped from his chest. Joyce had been his one true friend. When he had come back to Sunnydale after Dru had left him, Joyce had been there to comfort him. She had let him talk and talk over cups of hot cocoa.

He blinked, trying to hide back his tears. Joyce Summers—mother of the Slayer, friends with a vampire. There’s irony for you.

Life’s a bitch.

*          *          *

Giles wiped tears from his eyes. He and Joyce had not always been on the best of terms, especially after she had found out about Buffy being the Slayer. However, they had always shared a common kinship in their relationship with Buffy. He was the closest thing that she had to a father.

I promise I’ll take care of her, he vowed. I swear this.

*          *          *

Buffy felt the intense desire to hit something. This could not be happening; this could not be real. Her mother could not be dead. It was all a mistake. She would wake up and there would be Joyce, still alive and happy. It had to be a dream.

It had to.

Because her mother cannot be dead. She was supposed to be there for when she got married. She was supposed to be Grandma for her own children. She was supposed to not die, dammit!

I’m supposed to watch over Dawn, she thought, but who will watch over me? Her tears fell to the ground

*          *          *

Scott watched his eldest cousin out of the corner of his eye. She was biting her lip and clenching her fists, probably unaware she was doing so. Losing a parent is always hard. He knew that firsthand.

But things had turned out all right for him in the end. He had found a new family with the X-men, had fallen in love with Jean. He was happy.

He hoped that one day, Buffy would be happy again, too.

*          *          *

I’m not real, so am I really feeling grief? Dawn thought. She wasn’t my mother. I don’t have a mother. I’m just some ball of energy…

But balls of energy do not have emotions. They do not laugh, cry, or mourn.

Maybe she was real. She had to hold on to that, because otherwise, she would go insane. So Dawn grieved, and accepted herself.

*          *          *

Hank looked at his watch. “I’m sorry, but I have to go if I’m going to catch my plane.”

Buffy nodded without really hearing him. She was still staring at the freshly dug grave. How many times had she sat watch over graves, ready to stake newly risen vampires? But there would be no creature breaking out of the coffin and through the dirt from this grave. Only her mother’s body, lying there, slowly decaying.

She vaguely heard everyone bidding her father goodbye. She was lost in thought. When a hand fell on her shoulder, she jumped in shock.

“Buffy,” Giles’ quiet voice said. “We should get going.”

“You guys go ahead.” She looked around at her friends and family. “I’m uh…I feel like taking a walk.”

“Are you sure?” Scott asked as he opened the door to his car.

She nodded and started walking off. “Yeah. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll go with you.” Angel started following her but stopped when he saw the look on her face.

“I just want be alone right now. Please.”

The vampire nodded and headed for his car. “You be careful.”

“Always am.” She walked off.

*          *          *

Scott and Jean had felt the need to take a walk themselves. After they had gotten back to the house, they had left again on foot. After their departure, the rest of the group sat in awkward silence in the living room. Finally, Xander spoke up. “So…anyone for patrol and killing something?”

Giles frowned at him but Angel got up. “Good idea. I’ll go get my axe.” He went upstairs.

Cordelia turned to Wesley. “He brought an axe to a funeral?” She shook her head. “He is in need of some serious—” She doubled over in pain and clutched her head.

Dimly, through her vision, she heard Wesley calling Angel’s name. Images flashed before her eyes and she gasped.

“Alleyway. Redland Street.”

“That’s near the magic shop,” Giles observed.

She ignored him as she fought to speak coherently. “It’s Scott and Jean. Attacked by a big nasty demon with green scales.”

“We’re on it.” Angel ran out the door carrying his axe. Wesley and Spike followed. “Wait for me, Poofster! If you’re going to kill something, I want in.”

Giles stood up as well and began searching for the keys to his car. “Well?” he asked the Scoobies. “Are you coming or not?”

Dawn sat down next to Cordelia whose face was still scrunched up with pain. “I think I’ll stay here and take care of her,” she said quietly.

Giles nodded and he and the others left.

*          *          *

Buffy was walking along the deserted street lost in her own thoughts. A scream penetrated the night air and she froze before running off in the direction it had come from. The streets blurred as she sprinted, intent on her goal and hoping that she would get there in time. There had been too many instances where she had arrived too late and could only chase after the demon or vampire to keep it from killing again. Sometimes, she could not even do that.

Her footsteps pounded in time with her thoughts. Oh please oh please oh please…

She rounded the corner and saw two figures huddled against the wall of an alleyway. In front of them snarled a demon.

“Hey, tall green and revolting. Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” She assessed her opponent. Too big for a stake…time for good old fashioned brute force.

The demon stared at her and its tongue flicked out, tasting the air. “Sssslayer,” it hissed.

“Yup, that’s my name. And soon, your name is going to be ‘dead’ so don’t get too cocky.” She leapt up into the air and slammed into its head, driving it to the ground. Not letting it recover, she grabbed a trashcan and smashed it down on it.

She somersaulted backwards and waited for the demon to struggle to its feet before running and jumping up to deliver a two-footed kick to its chest. She tsked. “Come on, I want a challenge here.”

It growled and charged at her, swinging a punch which she ducked easily. She then delivered her own jab to its throat.

Behind her, she heard a car screech to a stop and she groaned. Keep driving, stupid. “Buffy!”

She whirled around. “Angel, get back!” The demon took the opportunity and slammed her face first into a wall. By the time she got back to her feet, Angel and Spike had encircled the demon from both sides.

Spike kicked the demon in the back, causing it to stumble towards Angel who raised the axe and cut deeply into its arm. It roared in pain and backhanded Spike into the one of the couple that the demon had originally attacked.

“Scott!” a familiar female voice cried out.

Buffy glanced over and cursed inwardly when she saw her cousin crumpled on the ground. She ran and kicked the demon in the head, flipped over, kicked it again before grabbing the axe from Angel’s grasp and slamming the blade deep into its skull. It fell to the ground, the axe imbedded into its brain.

She stood breathing heavily for a few seconds as she tried to control her anger. When Angel laid a hand on her arm however, she snapped. “Don’t touch me! I didn’t ask for you help, you know!” She walked over and knelt over her cousin.

“Buffy…” Angel’s pleading voice called behind her.

“This is my town, and here, you play by my rules. I could have handled that demon just fine by myself. If you and Teedle Dee over there,” she nodded towards Spike who sneered at her, “hadn’t shown up, my cousin wouldn’t be hurt and there wouldn’t have to be a whole lot of awkward explanations to give.” She easily scooped up Scott in her arms and walked towards the mouth of the alley.

Jean stared after her, mouth open in shock. “What was that?”

Spike answered as he searched for a cigarette. “That was a demon, love. And it was looking for a snack.” He lit the cigarette and took a puff. “You were lucky the Slayer showed up when she did.”

Another car pulled up right next to Angel’s black convertible. Giles opened the driver side door and looked out. “What happened?”

“Scott’s hurt. I think Buffy took him to the magic shop.” The Watcher nodded in thanks to Angel and got back into his car. “I’ll meet you there,” he called before driving away.

Angel looked at Jean. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go see how your husband is doing.”

*          *          *

When Giles and the Scoobies entered the magic shop, Buffy had already laid her cousin out on the table. She had removed his glasses and was putting a wet washcloth on his forehead. “Are you all right?” Giles asked.

“I’m fine,” she answered curtly.

“Maybe you should let one of us do that.” Xander reached for the washcloth but backed off when she glared at him. “Or not.”

The bells over the door jingled as Angel, Spike, Wesley, and Jean entered the store. Jean saw her husband on the table and ran over. “I’m a doctor,” she told Buffy. The Slayer handed over the washcloth to the other woman.

Giles rubbed his eyes. “Buffy, perhaps it would be best if you went back to the house and calmed down a bit—”

She whirled on him. “Don’t you dare, Giles! I have lost too many people in this stupid fight: Merrick, Ms. Calender, Ford, Kendra…Hell if I’m going to leave and then find out I lost Scott too. So don’t you dare tell me calm down!” Buffy paused before continuing in a softer tone. “Dammit, I’m only twenty.”

Giles reached over and awkwardly hugged her. “Buffy…”

“You know what the worst thing is? The fact that she didn’t die because I was the Slayer. If it was some demon going after her, I could have fought it off and saved her. I can dust vampires in my sleep but I can’t fight a brain tumor.”

He had nothing to say in response to that. He just hugged her tighter and let her bury her face into his shirt.

Scott groaned on the table and stirred. He raised a hand and felt his face, still with his eyes closed. “Glasses,” he croaked.

Jean handed them to him. “They’re right here.” She helped him put them on and then to sit up. He groaned again and buried his head in his hands. “What happened?”

The red haired woman glanced around the room. “I don’t know. I think that perhaps Buffy would be able to explain the best. It seems that our suspicions may have been true.”

“Wait a minute. Suspicions? What the hell do you mean by that?” Buffy wiped the tears from her eyes and glared at Jean.

“You’re a mutant.” Jean’s voice was matter-of-fact.

“Like hell I am!”

Scott said softly, “Buffy, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Both Jean and I are mutants.”

The Slayer glared at her cousin. “I told you, I’m not a—!” She paused and frowned. “Wait a minute. Did you just say you’re a mutant?”

He nodded. “That’s why I have to wear these glasses. Otherwise, I’d be having beams come out of my eyes all the time.”

Xander’s eyebrows rose. “Cool.” Willow elbowed him gently.

Jean frowned. “Buffy, you have to be a mutant. How else could you do the things that you did back in the alley?”

Buffy looked at Giles. “You want to tell them, or should I?”

Giles sighed. “You see, in every generation there is a girl, the Chosen One, who is given the powers to—”

“Oh, come off it.” Spike folded his arms. “Ok, love, it’s like this. Buffy here is a vampire slayer. She was given super-strength and healing by the Powers that Be so that she could be able to take on demons, ghouls, and all those other nasties that go bump in the night.”

“Vampires. Demons.” Jean frowned. “There are no such things.”

“I suppose the thing that attacked you and four-eyes was just a distant cousin of Oscar the Grouch then.” Spike snorted. “Look, fine, don’t believe me? Then explain away this.” He growled and his face transformed into a demonic visage. Glowing yellow eyes peered out from underneath a heavy brow-ridge and his fangs gleamed.

Jean cried out and stepped back, running into the table. Scott stared. “Good lord…”

Spike reverted his face back to normal and smiled smugly.

“You could have warned them,” Buffy said. She turned to the two mutants. “Spike here is a genuine vampire. Only he’s neutered because of some chip that got placed into his head. Can’t hurt humans.” She smirked at the English vamp.

“You can’t bloody well just forget about that, can you?”

“Where’s the fun in that? If I weren’t so mature, I’d dance around you singing, ‘Spike is fixed. Spiked is fixed. Nah nah nah nah nah.’” Xander hopped up and down lightly, waving his arms.

Buffy glowered at him. “Xander.”

He gave her an innocent look and shrugged. “What?”

Willow sighed and tugged Xander’s arm. “Why don’t we go back to the house and see how Dawn and Cordelia are doing?”

Anya and Tara looked at each other and then followed the other two out the door.

Jean stared at Spike. “A skin disorder, or a birth defect…” she murmured.

Giles cleared his throat. “I’m afraid not. There are more things out there than modern science are willing to believe in. Vampires and demons are just a few.”

“You mean there are more things?” She stared at the Watcher incredulously.

“Well, there are witches, other dimensions, werewolves, gods…all sorts of things that you would find in a horror novel.”

“Not to mention giant snake men, that alien creature from the moon,” Buffy ticked off, “regular guys trying to bring hell on earth, mummies, and guys made out of bugs. Oh, and robots.” She looked over at Giles. “Why do we keep getting robots? I’m the Vampire Slayer. Robots weren’t in the job description.”

“Neither were covert government projects, but we have had more than our fair share of those as well,” Giles pointed out.

Scott waved his hand. “Um, excuse me? I’m still having a little trouble processing this. So what you’re saying is that Buffy isn’t a mutant, but some sort of savior to the human race?”

“More like the lone knight keeping the barbarian hordes from storming the castle. We’ve averted the apocalypse numerous times and I’m certain we will do so again in the future.”

Buffy nodded. “Yup. Normal day: get up, eat breakfast, save world, kill some demons, and then go to bed.”

“And you’ve been doing this for how long?” Jean had a pained look on her face.

“Since I was Called at fifteen. Same year that I had to burn down the gym at my old school because it was full of vampires, was expelled, went through my parents’ divorce, moved to Sunnydale, and found out that I was now living on the Hellmouth.”

“The what?”

“Hellmouth. Mouth of hell. It’s like Disney world for the demonic race. Just call me Mickey.”

 “I see…” Jean shook her head and rubbed her temple. “Why don’t we go back to the house? I think I need some sleep. Maybe when I wake up, this will all just be a bad dream that I’m picking up from Logan or something.”

Giles spoke up. “I can assure you, Mrs. Summers, that this is quite real. I’ve been living this all of my life.”

Scott got down from the table. “Wait until Xavier learns about this.”

His wife helped him stand and walk. “He can handle mutants. I’m sure that he can handle the supernatural. It’s the rest of the team that I’m worried about…”

*          *          *

“Do I have to go?” Dawn asked again. Everyone had gathered in front of the Summers residence, ready to bid goodbye to Scott, Jean, and Dawn. It was daylight so Angel and Spike had to stay indoors; they had already said their goodbyes. Spike had hugged Dawn hard and told her that she could call him anytime. He’d get a phone hooked up in his crypt or something. She had smiled at that.

Xander lightly punched Dawn on the shoulder. “Come on, kiddo. Lighten up. You’re finally going to get away from this hellhole. Think about it: no more worries about vamps or demons, no more people grabbing you because of who your sister is. And best of all, not psychotic gods trying to get their hands on you.”

She tried to smile. “I’ll be fine.”

Giles awkwardly hugged the girl who had become one of his “children.” “If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to contact me.”

Willow and Tara both embraced her. “Hey, you’ll love it in New York. There’s plenty of space for you to run around. And there will be other kids for you to hang out with and stuff. You’ll have fun.” Willow smiled reassuringly.

Dawn smiled back. “Yeah. For once, I won’t be the freakiest one around.”

“Well, you aren’t the freakiest one here. I mean, you have two witches, an ex-demon, a Slayer…I mean, your best friend is Spike!”

Dawn had to laugh at that one. “Thanks, Willow. I’m going to miss you.”

“Oh,” Willow hugged her hard. “I’m going to miss you too, Dawnie. Don’t forget to write or call or something. I’ve even been working on a scrying spell with Tara so that we can talk to you through mirrors or something.”

“I’d like that.” Dawn turned to Tara. “I’m going to miss you too.” She hugged the blond witch. Tara looked surprised for a moment but then hugged the girl back. “You’ll do fine. You’ll wow all the other kids with your magic skills we taught you.”

Cordelia and Wesley took their turn. Cordelia’s advice to her was, “Try and go into the city sometime. I mean, you’re in the same state! Why not go? They have fabulous clothing stores there and museums and theaters and stuff.”

Wesley had cleared his throat awkwardly before wishing her luck.

Finally, Buffy was the only one that was left. She crouched down so that she was the same height as her sister. “I’m going to miss you, sis.” The two of them hugged. “Never forget that we’re family,” Buffy whispered in her ear. “And family is always there for one another.” They pulled away. “I’m just a short plane ride away. After this whole thing with Glory is over with, I’m going to fight with Dad to get you back here. Sunnydale is your home,” she said vehemently.

“Thank you.” Dawn felt tears running down her cheeks.

“I love you, Dawnie.” The two sisters embraced again.

As Dawn got into the back of the rental car, Scott and Jean made their goodbyes with everyone. “If you ever change your mind,” Jean said, “just give the Institute a call. I’m sure there will be room for a Slayer somewhere.”

Buffy had just smiled.

As the car drove down the road, the entire gang stood looking after it, waving. When it had disappeared from sight, Buffy turned back to face her friends. “Well,” she said. “What are you waiting for? The sooner Glory’s dead, the sooner Dawn comes home.”

Everyone headed inside to plan. They had a hell-goddess to kill.

----------------------------------------

Chapter Two:

Westchester, New York

Dawn Summers stared at the passing landscape. She was nervous. Today, she would arrive at Charles Xavier’s Institute for the Gifted as a student. She did not know how she felt about that. The fact that she was now safe (or at least safer) from Glory was a relief but she missed her sister, Buffy, and their friends back in Sunnydale. And then there was the fact that she would be the only non-mutant at the school.

 Not that she could be considered normal in any sense of the word. She may have had fourteen years of memories, but only the last few months of those memories had been real. Before that, there had been no Dawn Summers, daughter of Hank and Joyce, sister to Buffy.

There had been a ball of energy known as The Key that would unlock the door between this world and the world that the insane god Glorificus had come from—the door that if opened would destroy both. In order to prevent that, some monks had taken the Key and made it into human form.

Her.

She hugged herself. The idea that she was the means to bring about Armageddon terrified her. She just wanted to be normal. At the Institute, she would still not be normal, but at least she would not be the only one.

Scott drove the car through huge iron gates. They then headed up a long driveway and stopped in front of a huge house. Dawn stared. The closest building in size to this place that she knew of would have been Angel’s old mansion in Sunnydale and even that was dwarfed by this place.

Dawn opened the door and stepped out, adjusting her clothing. Scott took the suitcases out of the trunk and headed up the front stairs. “Come on,” he said. “We’ll get you settled in.”

*          *          *

Scott opened the front door. He smiled slightly as he felt a familiar touch on his mind. Hello, Professor, he thought.

Scott. How was your trip?

Interesting. I have many things to tell you.

I look forward to hearing them. I see that you brought your young cousin back with you. How do you think she will fit in here?

Scott smirked slightly. Much easier than we had originally thought. It seems my family is full of surprises.

Oh? Is she a mutant?

No. I’ll explain it all to you when I bring her up to meet you. Right now, I’m going to show her to her room and get her settled in.

All right, Scott. I shall be expecting you. The mental link closed.

He returned his attention to the conversation his wife was having with Dawn. “When is Buffy sending over the rest of your things?” Jean was asking.

Dawn shrugged. She seemed a lot more subdued than she had been back in California. “I don’t know. I think that she’s hoping to get this thing with Glory cleared up really soon so that I can go back.”

“You still should have something.”

Dawn shrugged again. “I have everything I need in my suitcase right now. If there’s anything I don’t have, I could just buy it or ask Buffy to FedEx it or something. It’s no biggie.”

Scott led the way upstairs to the students’ wing. “The boys are down there.” Scott pointed down the hall. “The girls room down this way.” The walked down the hall, stopping about halfway towards the end. Scott opened the door and set Dawn’s suitcase down inside. “Well, this is it.”

Dawn looked inside. The room was small, but comfortable. A large window let in streams of sunlight which fell onto the comfortable looking bed.

“Most students have a roommate but all of the teachers agreed that it would be better for you to be alone, at least for now, to help you recover after all you’ve been through.”

“Special treatment for the girl who’s not real?” she asked bitterly.

“No,” Jean’s quiet voice answered. “More like giving you time for you to grieve for your mother in peace.”

“Oh.” She did not have anything to say in answer to that. She wrapped her arms around herself and stared at the wood floor. “Sorry. I’ve been really sensitive to that and I really shouldn’t be.”

A hand rested on her shoulder and she looked up into her cousin’s face. “It’s all right,” he said quietly. “I can’t even imagine the shock you felt when you found out.”

They let Dawn have a quiet moment before pulling her out of the room again. “Scott and I live just down the hall so if you ever need anything, feel free to come visit.” Jean opened a door towards the end of the hall and Scott shoved the other two suitcases inside. “At the moment, the other students are in class and starting tomorrow, you’ll join them. Right now, however, we’re going to take you to meet Professor Xavier; he’s in charge of the school.”

*          *          *

Xavier was perturbed. He had been attempting to probe the newest student, Dawn Summers, in order to get an idea of her personality and how well she would fit in at the school. All of his attempts, however, had failed, sliding away from her as if he was trying to hold onto a glass pane. What this meant, he did not know. Scott had said that his cousin was not a mutant. Could he have been mistaken?

He felt a brief touch on his mind before he heard the knock on the door. “Come in,” he called out from behind his desk.

The door opened and in walked two of his first ‘children’: Scott Summers and Jean Grey. Jean Summers, now, he reminded himself and felt a wave of sadness. Where has the time gone? Wasn’t it only yesterday when they came to me, still children and blossoming into their powers? He had been there when the two had first meet, had witnessed them falling into love, and had even given away Jean at their wedding.

Scott gently steered a young girl so that she stood in front of him. “Professor, this is my cousin Dawn.”

Xavier inclined his head. “How do you do? It is always a pleasure to meet a new student.” He projected an outward calm, but inside, he was amazed when to his mind, the girl was not there. There was a blank space where her mind should have been. When he pushed against that emptiness, he again encountered that glass wall that he slid off of.

She grinned shyly at him and stammered out a hello. Xavier had to smile slightly at that. How many children had given him that same grin the first time they met him? He rolled his wheelchair around his desk. He noticed that her eyes widened a little but she showed no other outward sign of surprise at his disability.

“Dawn,” he began, “as Jean and Scott have already told you, this school is one for mutants. I understand that you are not one but your father managed to secure a place for you here, not knowing the true nature of the Institute. However, there is something that is puzzling me about you.”

She frowned. “What?”

“I can’t sense you.” He tapped his forehead. “I’m a telepath, but all I see when I try to reach you is this area of nothingness. When I push against it, I encounter this barrier. You claim not to be a mutant; both Scott and Jean say that you are not a mutant. So how is it that you could have mind shields that I cannot get past?”

“Oh, well…” She fidgeted, shifting her weight from one foot to another. “I’m not real?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Dawn glanced at her cousin and at his encouraging nod, took a deep breath and started talking.

*          *          *

Dawn returned to her room after her meeting with Professor Xavier. It had left her emotionally drained. She flopped down face first onto her bed and reveled in the scent of fresh sheets.

There was a knock on the door and Dawn moaned, shoving herself upright. “It’s open,” she called out. Not an invitation—Hellmouth habits die hard.

The heavy wooden door opened and two girls a few years older than she was walked in. One was a tall Asian girl with short hair and twinkling eyes. The other was a shorter brunette with a streak of white in her hair. She was smiling though there was a sadness in her eyes as well. Dawn had seen such sadness before, though in a much greater quantity in Angel’s eyes.

Here comes the welcoming committee. Might as well make nice. She felt a flash of annoyance with herself. The two girls were obviously trying to make her feel comfortable in this strange school. It was no reason for her to resent them.

The Asian girl smiled. “Hi,” she said. “We thought we’d come introduce ourselves. I’m Jubilation Lee, but everyone here just calls me Jubilee.”

The other girl gave a wave. “I’m Rogue,” she said with a faint Southern twang.

“Dawn Summers,” she replied. She tucked her hair behind her ear—a nervous gesture—and motioned the other two girls into the room. “So, what’s the scoop on this school?”

“I like it here,” Rogue said as she sat down at the desk. Jubilee joined Dawn on the bed. “Before coming here, there really wasn’t a place I felt like I belonged. Outside, I’m different from normal people. Here, though, I may still be different, but I’m not the only different one.”

“Normal in our differences.” Jubilee smirked. “I like that.”

Dawn smiled.

“So, what’s your story?” Jubilee asked.

“Well, I’m from a small town in southern California. Sunnydale. You’ve probably never heard of it.” Unless you’re a demon, a vampire, or a power-hungry warlock. “I probably wouldn’t be here except my mom just died and my dad somehow conned my cousin Scott into getting me enrolled.”

“You’re Scott’s cousin?” Rogue asked surprised. “I didn’t think he had any family.”

“After his parents died, he and his brother Alex got grabbed by the government and stuffed into the system. We couldn’t touch them because of bureaucratic red tape. We only got back in touch after Scott came here as a student.”

“That’s just…wrong!” Jubilee exclaimed. “Man, and I thought I had it bad being a foster kid.”

“What happened to Alex?” Rogue asked.

Dawn shrugged, looking at the floor. “We don’t know. We tried finding him, and I know did too…It just seemed like he disappeared.”

“Wow. That’s harsh.”

“Yeah.” Dawn sat in silence, thinking. “I don’t remember Alex. I was just a baby when their parents died. He would be around my sister Buffy’s age now.”

Jubilee looked at Dawn. “You said that you probably wouldn’t be here except for your dad. You’re not a mutant?”

Dawn shook her head. “No.”

“And you aren’t weirded out that you’re surrounded by mutants?”

Dawn shook her head. “Believe me, I’ve seen stranger.” Way stranger. “So, what are your powers?”

Jubilee held out a hand and it began to glow silver. “I can shoot fireworks from my hands. Technically, it’s plasma, but it sure looks like fireworks.”

Rogue seemed to shrink inside herself a little when Dawn asked about powers. “I absorb other people’s life force and their own powers if they’re a mutant through my skin. I can’t control it so I have to be real careful.” She held up her arms which were covered by long velvet gloves.

“Oh.” Dawn studied the girl, trying to imagine how that could have affected her. How would I have turned out, if I couldn’t touch anyone? Maybe being a great ball of energy isn’t so bad.

Rogue shrugged. “I’ve had a few years to learn to deal with it. After a while, it became second nature and I hardly notice it anymore.” The sadness in her voice said otherwise, but Dawn did not comment on it. Buffy had been the same way for a few years after she first became the Slayer, especially during the high school years when all she wanted was a normal life.

There was another knock on the door and Jean’s head appeared around it. “Hey, seems you found the welcoming committee.” She smiled at the two girls who waved back at her. “I just wanted to tell you that dinner’s at six. Be there or go hungry.”

“'Kay,” Dawn answered, glad for the interruption.

*          *          *

Sunnydale, California

The hell-god known as Glory stared at the map in disbelief. She held a crystal on a string over the map. The crystal was not staying above Sunnydale as it should have been. Instead, it was tugging on the string, towards the east.

Her eyes narrowed as she slowly moved the crystal across the map. Finally, the tugging on the string stopped over New York.

Why would the Key be in New York? She growled low in her throat. That damn Slayer thought she could hide the Key from the great Glorificus, did she? She will learn her mistake.

“Minions!” she called out.

*          *          *

Buffy patrolled but it was unusually quiet that night on the Hellmouth. It was so quiet that she decided to cut patrol short in hopes of getting some sleep before class tomorrow. She and the rest of the Scooby Gang had been trying to find a way to take Glory down. No luck so far.

They had become practically regulars at Willy’s, a bar frequented mainly by demons and run by a weasel of a human. Willy: bartender, server of liquids you do not want to know about, and reluctant stoolpigeon to the Slayer.

He knew nothing.

Giles had researched and cross-referenced and researched some more. There was no mention on how to kill an insane goddess from a hell dimension.

Though lately, Glory had been lying low. That worried Buffy. She had learned that quiet usually meant that the bad guys were planning something big that would result in mayhem, late nights for the Slayer, and bruises. Lots and lots of bruises.

Before entering the empty house, she made a mental note to swing by Glory’s mansion the next day in hopes of finding out what she was up to. In the meantime, there was that literature paper to write.

*          *          *

Spike walked back to his crypt, a bag full of containers of pigs’ blood under his arm. He was not paying attention to his surroundings, letting his feet carry him through the familiar route from the meat plant back home.

He missed Dawn.

He would never admit it to anyone, but he had come to regard her as a younger sister of sorts. Why was it that the two people he had grown the closest to were now gone? One had died of a brain tumor; the other was sent away to boarding school a continent away.

About to enter the cemetery, he stopped and sniffed the air. “All right, you might as well come out. I know you’re there.”

A nearby bush rustled and a tiny wrinkled figure emerged. Spike snarled when he saw it. “What? Poking around graveyards instead of giving Glory a manicure?” he sneered. He grabbed the creature by the throat and slammed it into a tree. “What are you doing here?” His face transformed into his vampire mask.

The creature whimpered. “O-orders to w-w-watch. M-make sure n-nothing hap-happened while Her Magnificence was g-g-gone.”

The vampire frowned and tightened his grip around its neck. “Gone where?”

“N-n-new York. After the Key.” The minion trembled in fear. “Please don’t hurt me.”

Spike smiled nastily as he let go, watching as it dropped a foot to land in a heap in the dirt. “I won’t hurt you…if you run.”

He watched as it scurried away and then sighed, looking at the paper bag longingly. Dinner would have to wait. He left the cemetery again and headed for Buffy’s house.

*          *          *

Westchester, New York

Dawn had just hit the snooze button on her alarm clock when the phone started ringing. Oh God, who can be calling this early? I’ll let Buffy answer it. When the ringing did not stop, she groaned and raised her head from the pillow. Looking around the unfamiliar room, she groaned again, swinging her legs off the side of her bed. Oh yeah. I’m at Xavier’s. She reached for the receiver and the ringing mercifully stopped. “Hello?” she mumbled.

“Dawn! Thank God you answered.”

“Buffy? What’s wrong?” Dawn instantly came fully awake. Her sister sounding this worried usually meant big bad demonic trouble.

“Glory somehow found out that the Key isn’t in Sunnydale. She’s on her way to New York; might already be there.”

“Oh, shit…” Dawn scrambled for some clothes.

“I’m catching the next plane over there. Giles, Willow, and Tara are coming with me. We should get there sometime tonight.”

“I’ll tell Scott.” Dawn pulled on a pair of jeans and hunted in her still unpacked suitcase for a shirt.

“You do that. If Glory finds you before I get there, just…just try and stay out of her way. I don’t think that she knows you’re there but if she finds out, she’ll figure that you have the Key and go after you.”

“Ok. Stay out of sight. Got it.” She struggled to button the shirt she had found while keeping hold of the phone.

“I got to go, Dawnie. We’re about to leave now. I’ll see you tonight. Bye.” The phone clicked before she could respond and Dawn sighed before hanging up the receiver.

Ok, Dawn, think. If Glory was able to find out that the Key was here, then assume that she can pinpoint your exact location. So the best thing to do may be to keep moving. Don’t think Scott would be too happy about that. Maybe I can get someone to take me into town to get supplies for a concealment spell…

She started making a list of things that could be helpful. “Would holy water work on a hell god?” she wondered. She shrugged and wrote it down anyway. It could not hurt and it would help if she ran across any vampires. “Protection spell…What were the ingredients for that concealment spell Willow taught me again?” Rosemary, sage, powdered dragon’s teeth…She wrote down all that she could remember.

She ran out the door and continued down the hall to Scott and Jean’s room. She did not see the other man until she collided with him. “Hey, where’s the fire?” a gruff voice asked her.

She looked up to see a man with wild black hair staring down at her. “Um…going to ask Scott if I can go into town.”

The man studied her. “You’re the new student? Don’t tell me you’re his kid cousin.”

“Um, yup, that’s me. Dawn Summers. So who are you?”

He chuckled. “Logan, but you can call me Wolverine. I like you, kid. You’ve got spunk. Listen, I don’t think ol’ stick up his rear will let you take a trip into town, but I might be willin’ to take you. In fact, I was going to go pick up some things myself.”

“Really?”

“You bet, kid. Let’s blow this joint.”

*          *          *

Dawn got directions from the bookstore clerk and left Logan looking at some books. Huh, who’d have thunk that a town this small would have an occult shop? And it’s not even on the Hellmouth!

The sign above the door proclaimed, “The Whispering Dragon.” Dawn snorted in amusement at the name and went in.

“Good day, young miss. And how may this humble one serve you this fine morn?” a voice with an exotic accent asked.

Dawn studied the guy behind the counter. To an ordinary person, his odd appearance would have been taken for a good make-up job. To the sister of the Vampire Slayer however…

“I dunno. What’s a Taral demon doing in Nowheresville, New York?”

The demon stared at the girl in amazement. “Well, I guess I can drop the act,” he commented in a drawl that would have been right at home in the middle of Brooklyn. “So, what do you want, kid?”

“You got ingredients for a protection spell and a concealment spell?” she asked, studying the small shop. She saw a display on the other side of the small establishment and headed over.

“Sure thing. Tell me, what’s a little girl like you needing a protection spell for?” The Taral demon bustled about behind the counter, measuring out ingredients and wrapping them in brown paper. He turned around. “Whoa!”

Dawn had laid out a nice collection of knives, stakes, holy water, candles, and wooden crosses on the counter.

He shook his head and rang up her purchases. “Girl, I sure hope you know what you’re doing.”

When he told her the total cost, her eyes narrowed. “You have got to be kidding me,” she said. “I know for a fact that rosemary is only worth about five dollars for a quarter pound and ten dollars for a bottle of holy water? Nothing doing, pal. You ring all this up again, and this time, don’t try and cheat me.”

“Me?” he asked innocently. “I will have you know that I am giving you a bargain on these herbs! Why this is the best quality hemlock you will find in the world, hand picked on a remote mountain in Tibet and dried under the light of the full moon.”

Dawn snorted. “Right. More like grown in someone’s garden and dried in the oven. Look, what are you trying to pull on me?”

“Listen, kid, who do you think you are? I’m telling you this is a fair price!”

“And I’m telling you that my sister helps run a magic shop in Sunnydale and I have had to do inventory there so I know how much everything is supposed to cost.”

“Sunnydale?” The demon rolled his eyes. “Figures I’ll get some brat from the Hellmouth. Fine, fine.” He re-rang up the order and the final cost came out to something more to Dawn’s liking.

“You know, I’m technically not supposed to sell the knives to anyone under the age of eighteen.”

She handed over the money, glad that Buffy had given her a healthy stash of spending money. “Yeah, well, if it makes you feel any better, consider me eighteen.” She headed for the door, bags in hand. “Thanks,” she called back.

“Come again, soon!”

Dawn rolled her eyes. She met up with Wolverine in front of the bookstore and they headed back to the Institute.

“Phew, what did you buy?” Wolverine opened the windows in the car another notch.

“Just some herbs,” she said.

“Next time you need a ride to town, you ask someone with a less sensitive nose,” he grumbled.

*          *          *

Scott met the two of them as they pulled up in front of the mansion. “Uh oh,” Wolverine muttered. “Our fearless leader looks pissed.”

“Where were you, Dawn?” Scott asked.

“In town. I needed to pick up a few things.” She shifted the weight of the two bags and headed up the front steps.

“You listen to me, young lady. There are rules here, and one of them is that students are not supposed to leave the grounds without permission. They are also not allowed to miss class without a damned good excuse.”

“Leave the kid be,” Wolverine drawled. “I offered to drive her to town and she accepted.”

Scott glared at the other man from behind his ruby-quartz glasses. “I’ll deal with you later, Logan.”

Wolverine made a show of yawning. “Yeah, sure.” He strolled inside, hands in his pockets.

Scott turned back to his cousin and found that she had followed Wolverine indoors. He caught up with her. “Well, want to tell me what was so important that you couldn’t wait until after classes?”

Dawn scowled at him. “How about the fact that I have a hell goddess on my trail?”

“What?”

“Yeah, Glory found out that her precious Key was no longer in California.”

“When did you find this out?” Scott folded his arms and looked at her.

“This morning when Buffy called. Oh, by the way, she and a few of the others are flying in tonight.”

“Thanks for telling me.” His voice was dry. “You didn’t think we could protect you?”

“No offense to you and the other teachers here, but I think this is a little out of your league.” They were in front of her door and she set down one of the bags in order to unlock and open it.

“Why don’t you let us decide on that?”

Dawn began unpacking the two bags. She placed the packets of herbs carefully on her dresser, making sure that the labels were visible. “How do you kill a vampire?” she asked quietly.

Scott was taken back. “What?” he asked, confused.

She turned to look at him. “How do you kill a vampire? A stake through the heart, beheading, fire. Exposure to sunlight works too, but it has to be for a while or else they just start to burn and get really pissed. Holy water burns them as well and being near crosses causes them pain. Did you know that?”

Scott shook his head mutely.

“Do you know that the only way to kill a Pulogos demon is to cut its head off and burn it? If you just cut the head off, the body will just find it and reattach it. Do you know that the blood of a Rukal demon is deadly but in small quantities can heal?”

“I think you’ve made your point,” Scott said softly. He walked over and gently hugged her. “Dawn, you’re my cousin. I promised Buffy that I’d look after you. Do you know how worried I was when you didn’t show up for your first class and no one could find you?”

Dawn hugged him back before pushing him away. She turned back to her bags and finished unpacking them. She smiled slightly when she heard him bite off an exclamation when she laid three very sharp knives out on the dresser top.

“The professor and Ororo want to see you,” he told her.

She turned and raised an eyebrow at him. “Talking in your heads behind my back again?” she asked.

“Dawn…” he said warningly.

“Okay, okay. I’ll go talk to them. But I have to perform this spell first so that Glory won’t be able to find me. I don’t suppose you have a largish room with really good ventilation, do you?”

*          *          *

In the end, she had to do the spells on the basketball court. She would have preferred someplace darker but it would have to do. She had arranged the candles in a circle and seated herself in the center of the circle. A stone bowl was in front of her and she was laying out the herbs around her, making sure she could distinguish them from one another. The bag of powdered dragon’s teeth was in her hand.

“Dawn, is this really necessary?”

She turned to look at the man in the wheelchair and smiled. “I don’t know. Depends on how close Glory is to finding out where I am. It would make me feel better, anyway.”

Xavier sighed and rubbed the side of his temple. Magic, demons, gods…it was almost too much for him to take in. After hearing Dawn’s story yesterday, he was inclined to disbelieve it except that both Scott and Jean had insisted it was true.

Well, Ororo, what do you think? he asked the white haired, dark skinned woman standing beside him.

I do not know, Charles. There are more things in the world than I could dream of and in Africa I had seen things that most would label insanity.

So we give her the benefit of the doubt?

What else can we do? If we forbid her from casting the spell and this ‘Glory’ does find her, then it is on our heads.

Dawn closed her eyes and chanted something under her breath. Willow and Tara had drilled the spell for fire into her so that she could use it if ever cornered by a vampire. Around her, the candles flared to life. Jean and Scott took a step back and Ororo cried out in surprise.

The girl took a handful of powdered dragons’ teeth from the pouch and threw it into the bowl. “Draw the circle,” she whispered, “Hide from sight.”

She had had to combine the protection and the concealment spell. Willow and Tara had taught her the basics of spell casting and simple spells. She hoped she had done this right.

An incandescent bubble appeared, a perfect semi-circle just within the ring of candles.

One by one, the herbs joined the dragons’ teeth in the bowl. She again chanted the spell for fire and the herbs burned. The semi-circle began shrinking until it molded itself to her and disappeared. The fire in the bowl and the candles then went out.

Dawn looked at the four adults who were watching her, their eyes wide and their mouths open. She smiled at the sight. “I’m done,” she announced. “How about something to eat? I didn’t get breakfast, you know.”

*          *          *

Xavier probed the area where Dawn should have been. Before, there had been a hole, but now, that was not even there. He opened his eyes and nodded at the girl. “I think it worked,” he told her. “In my mind, everything is as is should be. I still cannot sense you, but there is no emptiness to alert me that you are there.”

“Good.” Dawn finished the rest of her spaghetti and looked longingly at the pot simmering on the stove.

Ororo Munroe saw her glance and laughed. “I cannot believe you are still hungry,” she told the girl as she refilled Dawn’s plate.

“It’s the magic. Tara explained it to me once. When spell casting, you are pulling some of the energy required from around you but the majority of it has to come from within. So that’s why you will never find a fat magic user. Well, a good magic user, anyway.” She shoved a forkful of pasta into her mouth and chewed.

“So this Glory won’t be able to find you now?” Jean asked.

Dawn shook her head. “I don’t know how she found out that I wasn’t in California anymore. If she is tracking me magically, then it will confuse things. But if she’s tracking me physically, somehow, then the concealment spell does nothing. Hopefully, if she gets close to me, the protection spell will kick in.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Well, with any luck, Buffy will already be here.”

Scott frowned. “We have our own resources too, you know.”

Xavier nodded. “I am sure that there are ways that we can keep you safe. We have had to deal with protecting things and people before.”

Dawn shrugged and continued eating. “Whatever you want. It’s your call. I’m just here ‘cause my dad shipped me off.”

*          *          *

Somewhere in New York

Glory had a state map spread out before her and was trying to scry the position of the Key again.

Trying.

The stupid crystal would not make up its mind! It would tug one way and then totally reverse directions and tug another way.

She growled and threw the crystal at the wall. “Dammit!” she screamed. “Damn the Slayer. Damn this stupid world. Damn them for throwing me out. Damn damn damn!”

*          *          *

Westchester, New York

The rental car stopped in front of the closed gates. The area was brightly illuminated by lights set on top of the wall. “This the place?” Buffy asked Giles.

The Watcher nodded. He got out of the car and approached the gates. There was a speaker built into the stone wall. He pushed the button. “Hello?”

An automated voice replied, “Please state your name and purpose.”

Giles cleared his throat. “Um, my name is Rupert Giles. I’m here with Buffy Summers to visit her sister Dawn.”

“One moment please.”

The gates swung open and the Brit got back into the car. “Well, here we go,” he told the others.

“Oh wow,” Willow breathed when she saw the mansion. “Xander will freak when we tell him about this place.”

The front doors opened and Dawn ran out to greet them. Buffy got out of the car and swept her sister in a hug. “Hey, what’s this?” she laughed. “Miss me already? You’ve only been gone, what? Two days?”

“Just kill Glory already so I can go home,” Dawn asked.

Buffy hugged her sister tighter. “You got it, Dawnie. I’ll do my best.”

“Hey, what’s this? No hug for me, nibblet?”

Dawn looked up and smiled widely. “Spike!” She ran over and swept the vampire up in a hug. “Buffy didn’t tell me you were coming.”

The vampire looked faintly embarrassed at the show of emotion. “Well, she didn’t know. I stowed away in the luggage compartment. Less chance of a sudden exposure to sunlight there.”

Giles frowned at him. “Yes. Imagine our surprise when Spike greeted us outside the airport.”

Buffy snorted, causing Willow and Tara to smile at each other.

“Good evening. Dawn, if you would be so kind as to introduce us?”

Dawn looked up at Professor Xavier who was sitting at the top of the steps with Scott and Jean standing next to him.

“Oh, yeah. Professor, this is my sister Buffy and this is Giles, Willow, Tara, and Spike.”

“A pleasure,” he told them. If you’ll follow me to my office, I believe we have some matters to discuss.”

The others followed him inside. Spike started walking but stopped at the threshold. “Hey, one of you blokes want to invite me in?”

Scott observed the vampire and smirked. “Gee, I don’t know…”

Jean nudged her husband gently in the ribs. “Come on in, Spike.”

The vampire stepped inside and nodded towards her. “Much obliged, Red. No thanks to four-eyes over there.”

“Behave, Spike, or I’ll put a piece of wood through you.” Buffy glared at him. “We’re here for a reason. You remember that.”

He mock saluted her. “Aye aye, ma’am. Kill hell goddess and bring my little bit home.”

*          *          *

Willow and Tara held hands and reached out towards Dawn. Their eyes were closed. They stayed that way for a while and then opened their eyes again.

“Well?” Dawn asked.

They released their hands. “You did a good job,” Tara told her. “It will eventually wear off and you would have to renew it but it’s pretty good work.”

Dawn beamed. “Yay. I completed my first solo spell casting.”

Tara frowned slightly. “You shouldn’t do magic alone unless you really know what you’re doing. When we get back to Sunnydale, I’m going to have to speed up your lessons if you continue working magic.”

“You listen to them, Dawn,” Spike advised from where he was sitting in the corner. He did not really like the idea of his young friend performing serious magic.

There was a knock on the door. “It’s open,” Dawn called out.

Jubilee stuck her head through the doorway. “Hey, a bunch of us are getting together in the rec room to watch a movie. Wanna come?”

Dawn smiled. “Maybe later. I have some things I need to get done.”

Willow spoke up. “No, no. You should go and have fun. We can’t really do anything right now.”

“You sure?”

“Oh yeah. Buffy and Giles are still in a planning session with Xavier. Why don’t you take Spike with you?”

Dawn nodded and looked towards the vampire. He sighed and slowly got to his feet. “I suppose…”

“Great!” Dawn grabbed his arm and ran out of the room.

“Whoa! Slow down a bit, will ya?”

Tara and Willow waited until they had left before dissolving into giggles.

*          *          *

Someplace in New York

Being denied magical means to find the key, Glory had been forced to go through more mundane channels, to her irritation. She studied the information in front of her. “Ugh,” she complained. “Another hell hole town in the middle of nowhere.”

She had had to do some research but she eventually found out that the Slayer’s brat of a sister had recently been sent to a school in New York. She had reasoned that the sister would have the Key.

So it looks like she would be heading to Westchester and Xavier’s Institute for the Gifted.

Thought you can hide it from me, Slayer? she thought. You’re about to learn otherwise.

----------------------------------------

Chapter Three:

Westchester, New York

Logan and Rogue carried in bowls of popcorn. Their arrival in the rec room was met by cheers.

“Finally!” Bobby Drake announced. He vaulted over the sofa, causing Jean and Scott to duck and laugh, and took the bowl Rogue was carrying. “Come on, I saved you a seat.”

She looked at Logan how glared briefly at Bobby before nodding to Rogue. “Go on, kid. I’ll be fine.”

Logan took a wooden chair and turned it around and sat down in it backwards, leaning his arms on the back. Just then, a girl ran through the wall, panting. “Am I late?” she asked. “I lost track of time.”

Logan hid a smile. He then tossed the other bowl of popcorn towards Scott, who was sitting next to Jean on the couch. “Hey, Cyke, catch.”

Scott looked up, surprised, and barley managed to catch the bowl. A few popcorn kernels spilled over the side to drop onto the floor. “Thanks for the warning, Logan,” he said dryly.

The Canadian smirked. “So, what’s on the playbill tonight?”

Bobby looked up and grinned. “There’s a horror movie marathon playing on channel thirty nine. And they’re all bad horror movies too.”

Logan shook his head and sighed. The things he put up with. He looked up when the door opened and saw Jubilee leading in that new girl, Dawn and some bleached blond Billy Idol wannabe in a black leather trench coat. His eyes narrowed as he caught a whiff of the guy’s scent. He’s not human...

Rogue waved to the group. “Hey, Jubes! There’s room on the floor over here.”

Dawn smiled shyly at everyone as she picked her way through the crowd. Billy Idol leaned against he wall. She looked back at him. “Come on, Spike.”

He shook his head. “Sorry, pet,” he said in a Cockney accent. “You know I’m not much of a joiner.”

“It’ll be fun, Spike. Please?”

Spike sighed and pushed away from the wall. “So long as we’re not watching some bloody chick flick.”

Rogue pushed her hair back from her face. “Nope. B horror movies.”

Spike grinned. “Why didn’t you say so? I’m in the mood for a good comedy.”

Logan stared at him. Strange guy. He then mentally shrugged. Strange was not a crime, especially at Xavier’s. Besides, how strange can one guy be?

*          *          *

Spike laughed hilariously. “Oh come on! You call that a fight! My last girlfriend could fight better than that!”

Dawn looked at him. “Um, Spike, your last girlfriend was Harmony. Got in a catfight with Xander, remember?”

“My point exactly, nibblet. Now shush, I can’t hear the dialogue.”

On the screen, two figures circled each other. “You shall die for what you have done, you foul beast from Hell!” The demon hunter waved a sword around. The obviously fake demon snarled and lunged towards the other figure, swiping the sword from his grasp.

Now Dawn was yelling at the screen. “Moron! You hold the sword with two hands!”

Rogue leaned over towards Jubilee. “Those two are kinda too into the movie, don’t you think?”

The Asian girl nodded. “Tell me about it. And I thought I was loud at movies.”

“You bleeding idiot! Cut off its head, not poke it with the sword repeatedly. You’re just going to get it pissed off.” Spike waved a fist at the screen and then groaned smacking the palm of his hand against his face as the demon died. “Well, that’s Hollywood for you,” he sighed. “No sense of reality.”

Logan growled under his breath. He had tried to ignore the loud Brit for almost an hour but he was nearing his breaking point. He finally got out of his chair and reached over and plucked the vampire up by his coat collar and slammed him into the wall. “Listen, bub,” he snarled. “Some of us are trying to watch a movie here.”

Spike smiled sweetly. “So sorry to spoil your viewing experience, bub.”

Logan slammed him against the wall harder. “Either you shut up or I’ll rip you a new nose hole.”

“Oh, that’s original. You must have been overslept the day they were handing out wit.” Spike eyed the other man. “And good hair.”

Logan glowered and was about to speak again when Scott called out. “Both of you, back off, now.”

Spike looked around Logan. “Sorry, four-eyes, but I’m not in your secret club. Can’t boss me around.”

“Oh, but I can.” A fist came in from the side and slammed into the vampire’s face.

He cried out and Logan let him go. Spike glared up at Buffy. “What the hell did you do that for?”

“I told you to behave, remember? This,” she pointed from Spike to Logan and back to Spike again, “is not behaving.”

Spike muttered something under his breath before shoving past Buffy. “Sod this. I need a smoke.”

Buffy sighed and flopped down on the ground next to Dawn. “So, sis, how are things?”

Dawn shrugged. “All right.”

“How was your meeting with Xavier?” Jean asked.

“Long.” She eyed the television. “What are you guys watching?”

“The Monster of Hell Reach Pass,” Scott said. “They’re having a marathon.”

“Oh, yay. Horror movies.” Buffy got up. “I think I’ll pass.”

“Don’t like horror movies?”

“Don’t watch them. Same reason historians shouldn’t watch historical based movies. They end up critiquing everything. Willow and Xander have forever banned me from watching horror movies and movies with any fighting.”

“Yeah,” Dawn commented. “You should have seen her during Braveheart. She was going crazy.”

“Is it my fault that Mel Gibson can’t use a sword properly?” Buffy started heading towards the door. “Hey, Scott, you got a gym somewhere in this place?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “It’s in the east wing.”

*          *          *

Buffy emptied her mind and attacked the punching bag. Kick, jab, jump, kick, punch, punch, roundhouse kick… She threw herself into the workout, releasing the frustration, fear, and anger that had been building up ever since she had learned that Glory had taken a cross-country road trip after Dawn. Punch, punch, punch, punch…Whoops. She stared in dismay at the sand dribbling out of the hole in the punching bag.

“Impressive.”

She whirled around, instinctively crouching into a fighting position. Leaning against the wall was the man who had been threatening Spike in the rec room. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Your friend was annoying me. Thought I’d come work out.”

Buffy grabbed her towel and wiped her face and hands. “He’s not my friend. The only reason I haven’t killed him is because he comes in useful at times.”

“Not to mention the way your little sis has latched onto him.” He straightened away from the wall and started walking over. He took in the battered punching bag and whistled. “You’re stronger than you look, blondie.”

She threw the towel onto the floor. “Look, you got a reason for bothering me or do you just want to get your ass kicked?”

He smiled and crouched into the fighting position that was so familiar to him. “Bring it on.”

She smiled dangerously in return before attacking.

*          *          *

Scott, there is something that you may find interesting in the gym.

Scott tore his attention away from the movie. Professor?

It is nothing too important. Just that your cousin is fighting Logan.

He grinned. Oh, this I have got to see. He turned to Jean. “Want to get out of here?” he whispered.

She looked at him in surprise. “And go where?”

“There’s something you have got to see in the gym.”

*          *          *

Logan grunted in pain. The girl was a lot stronger than she looked. And quicker too. She was a real fighter. He grinned. He had not enjoyed himself this much since the last time he was punching the lights out of Sabertooth’s head. “So, what kind of name is Buffy?” he asked as he blocked her punch.

“I don’t know. What kind of name is Logan?” She grabbed his arm and flipped him over her shoulder onto the mat.

He grunted as he got up. “Call me Wolverine.”

“Ok, Wolvy.” She back flipped out of the way of his kick. “If we’re going by codenames now, call me Slayer.”

He grinned. “Don’t call me Wolvy.”

“Don’t call me blondie.” She kicked him in the chest and he felt himself fly through the air and impact with the wall. He got up slowly, blinking at the stars in front of his eyes. He looked up at her to see her standing halfway across the room, hands on her hips. “I win,” she announced.

There was clapping and cheering and he looked towards the doorway to see that they had gathered a crowd. He winced when he saw Scott and Jean at the front. I am never going to live this down. Beaten by a girl half my size. He sighed.

*          *          *

Somewhere in New York, en route to Westchester

Glory tapped her foot impatiently. “It would have been quicker to walk,” she muttered under her breath.

Her minion sat beside her in a heavy robe. “I am most sorry, your Beautifulness. But I do not think there is anyway to get the driver to go any faster. But if you wish, I shall go and ask him to.”

She pursed her lips. “Don’t bother,” she said as she got up. “I’m hungry.”

The minion winced at the screams.

*          *          *

Westchester, New York

Giles woke up early and headed downstairs. He wandered around in search of the kitchen. This place should come with a map or something, he thought to himself. He finally found his destination by following the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

“My word!” Giles stared at the large blue creature—ape?—standing in front of the refrigerator.

The creature turned and smiled revealing fangs. “Oh, hello. I don’t believe we’ve met.” It extended a large blue furred hand. “I’m Dr. Henry McCoy, but you can call me Hank.”

Giles stared at the hand for a moment before reaching out and shaking it. “Rupert Giles. I apologize for staring but your appearance startled me.”

Hank waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I have gotten quite used to it, I can assure you.” He held out a mug. “Coffee?”

Giles accepted it gratefully. “Oh, thank you.” He took a sip and sighed. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing up so early? No one else seems to be up yet.”

Hank chuckled as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “Early to bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. Benjamin Franklin. I have to healthy down, and I would like to think I have the wise as well. As for wealthy…I am still working on that one, I am afraid.”

Giles smiled. “A very nice sentiment. I am afraid that I shall be none of those things if it weren’t for this wonderful beverage.” He raised his mug.

Hank smiled again. “Do you mind if I turn on the television. I like a bit of news with my breakfast.”

Giles waved. “By all means.”

Hank turned on the television perched on top of the refrigerator. He flipped through the channels until he came to a news program. “…still no leads on to the number of mentally ill people found by the side of the road earlier this morning. The odd thing is that all of them before today had showed no signs or history of mental illness. All were apparently traveling on the same bus to the town of Westchester. The bus is missing and police are currently trying to track it down to see if some biological contaminant was the cause…”

“Oh my stars and garters. I wonder how that could have happened. Don’t you find that odd, Rupert?” Hank turned toward the other man to find him pale faced and clutching his coffee mug with whitened knuckles. He was staring at the television in horror. “Rupert? Are you all right?”

The Englishman shook himself free from his daze and looked towards the scientist. “Oh, yes. I’m terribly sorry.” He set down his mug and got up from the table. “If you will excuse me, I must be going.”

Giles practically ran out of the kitchen without waiting for Hank to reply. He raced up the stairs to the sleeping quarters and the rooms that he, Buffy, Willow, and Tara had been given. He skidded to a stop in front of the Slayer’s room. “Buffy!” he shouted as he pounded on the door. “Buffy! Get up this instant. This is important!”

The door was yanked open and he was confronted by a sleepy and grumpy vampire slayer. “What is it Giles? Can’t it wait?”

“No. It’s Glory. She’s on her way here.”

Buffy yawned and ran a hand through her hair. “I thought we knew that already.”

Giles shook his head. “No. I mean she’s on here way here. As in Westchester and the school. And she’s close.”

The Slayer snapped awake. “How do you know this?”

“It was on the news. A group of people found by the side of the road. All were on a bus heading here, and all were mentally ill but were not before today. Does this sound familiar?”

Buffy frowned and her eyes grew hard. “Get everyone else up now. We have to get ready. And someone should tell Xavier that he has a hell goddess on the way.”

*          *          *

En route to Westchester

He fought for dominance. He hated this—this struggle that happened every time between he and Glory. He had to go through it whenever she got the upper hand. It had grown increasingly harder for him to fight her. He wondered if one day he would lose and the being known as Ben would disappear altogether, leaving only Glory behind.

Pain.

Blinding light.

Pain.

He burst through, screaming as he did. He felt his body shift and he felt her anger as he shoved her deep inside himself. He opened his eyes and—

“Holy shit!” He slammed his foot down on the brakes, stopping the bus just before it collided with the tree.

He looked around himself wildly, finally spotting the huddled form of one of Glory’s followers. “Where the hell am I?” he demanded.

The pathetic creature looked up. “You! No no no.” It wrung its hands. “This is a bad time for you to come back. Bad bad bad. The great Glorificus will be very angry. Very angry.” It moaned.

Ben got out of the driver’s seat and walked over to the creature. “Why will she be angry? Tell me!”

It stared up at him. “The Key. We are very close to getting the Key.”

The Key. A chill ran up his spine. If Glory gets her hands on it, she will open the portal between the worlds, destroying this one. And him. But there was a chance. If he could get to the Key before Glory regained the upper hand and if he destroyed it—

He grabbed the minion. “Where is it?”

“Westchester.”

Westchester? Ben looked out the window at the unfamiliar scenery. “Where are we?”

“New York. Her Magnificence tracked the Key here.”

“Oh.” He paused for a moment, trying not to think how much time must have passed since he was last aware. I probably lost my job already. But there were more important matters. Such as finding the Key and destroying it. He looked down at himself, dressed in a revealing blue dress and high heels.

And finding himself some clothes.

*          *          *

Westchester, New York

Gossip buzzed through the halls of the Xavier Institute. All of the teachers had holed themselves up in the Professor’s private office. Also in on the meeting were the newcomers from Sunnydale who had arrived last night along with the newest student, Dawn Summers.

Classes were cancelled for the day and the students looked at each other in shock at that announcement. The only times that classes were cancelled were when the teachers were busy with X-men duties.

What could be going on? And what did it have to do with Dawn, who was not a mutant?

*          *          *

Ororo Munroe sat back in her seat and rubbed her eyes. “So what you are saying is that this ‘Glory’ is impossible to kill?”

“Nothing is impossible to kill,” Giles replied. “Everything has its weaknesses, even gods. We just have to find it and exploit it.”

“But what would a hell goddess have for an Achilles heel?” Hank asked.

Buffy sighed. “I’ve been dealing with her for months and I still have no idea. She’s strong, virtually indestructible, and a powerful magic user to boot. The only thing that I can think of us is that she is extremely irrational. She’s incredibly vain and egotistical. We might be able to use that against her though I don’t know how.”

Xavier looked thoughtful. “It is a shame we do not have a shape shifter among us at the moment. We could have then presented her with a copy of herself.”

“Quite.” Giles pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose—a nervous gesture that the Scoobies were familiar with. “I suggest that the best way to fight Glory is with a good defense. We do not know all that she is capable of. Yet, she does not know all the resources that we can bring to bear on her either.” He nodded towards the Professor. “What can your team do?”

“Telepathy, control of the weather, telekinesis, plasma rays. That’s only the X-men, though, and not the students. There are several mutants with very powerful powers among the student body.”

Giles sighed. “I do not like bringing children in on this but we may have no choice. We must use everything we have.”

“I agree.” Xavier nodded to two of his X-men. “Ororo, Scott, if you could gather the students and brief them. Make it perfectly clear to them that they are to only use their powers from a distance and not to confront Glory directly.”

The two nodded and left the room. Xavier then turned towards Dawn. “You have been awfully quiet. Do you have anything to add to this?”

Dawn shook her head. “There’s really nothing I can do. I don’t have powers. I can’t do anything except wait for her to come get me.” She laughed bitterly. “Let the Slayer protect me. That’s why the monks sent me to her, right?”

Willow reached out and grasped her hand. “Don’t see yourself short, Dawnie. You pulled off a wicked protection spell, remember?”

“Speaking of which…” Xavier looked at the two witches. “What are you going to do?”

Tara looked out the window. “Whatever we can. Protection spells, fire, fog…whatever we have to.”

Xavier studied her for a long moment before nodding. “I suppose that is all we can do.”

*          *          *

It was sunset when Ben finally pulled up in front of the gates of the Xavier Institute for the Gifted. He was dressed in sweats that he had found among Glory’s clothes. He felt her within him, trying to get out. He forced her back down and prayed that she would not resurface until after he destroyed the Key.

He exited the bus with the minion following behind pitifully. “Please reconsider your actions. Her Magnificence won’t like this at all.”

He whirled on the demon. “I couldn’t give a damn what that bitch thinks about this!” He felt anger bubble up inside of him. “This is my life too, and to hell with her! Now I’m going to go find her precious Key and make sure that she can never get her hands on it.” He turned back towards the gate when he doubled over in pain. “No…not now…”

He screamed. Pain pain pain. No! He forced her down. “No, damn it!” he shouted. “I’m not letting you win…” he gasped.

His body contorted and he felt himself being shunted inward. Noooo…

*          *          *

Glory straightened and laughed. “Silly man. Try and trick me, will you.” She studied her surroundings. “Well, at least that idiot got me here. That’s something.” She approached the closed gates and grasped them with her bare hands and ripped them from the walls. She tossed them on the ground and advanced up the driveway. “Ready or not, Slayer, here I come.”

*          *          *

“She’s here!” Kitty burst through the door of Xavier’s study. “She’s here!” she called out again.

Xavier nodded at her. “My thanks, Kitty. Go take your place with the other students now.”

She nodded and ran out the door again—right through the door. Spike stared after her and shook his head slightly. “Mutants,” he muttered as he gathered Dawn and started moving towards the door. “What else is next?”

Wolverine snarled under his breath. “Watch it, deadboy.”

*          *          *

Bobby watched the blond haired woman walk up the drive. He closed his eyes as he concentrated. He reached his hand towards her. Freeze.

*          *          *

Glory cried out as her foot slipped and she fell heavily on the ground. She stared at shock at the ground which was covered by a heavy layer of ice. She snarled as she carefully got up. “Nice try, witches, but not good enough. Now why don’t you just come out so that I can suck on your brains already?”

A fireball zoomed through the air towards her. She deflected it into the sky with one hand. She did not notice the second fireball until it was right on top of her.

*          *          *

Jubilee watched as the woman was engulfed in fire. She smiled and pushed her sunglasses down into place. Too bad Rogue could not help. She had wanted to but Xavier had refused. “I do not want to even think what would happen to you if you had an insane hell goddess in your head. No, Rogue. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to stay on the sidelines for this one.”

My turn, bitch. For both me and Rogue. She held out her hands and plasma streaked through the air. She smiled at the cry of pain. Try and hurt my friend, will ya? Not while Jubilation Lee is here!

*          *          *

Now, Scott!

Cyclops acknowledged Jean’s order and reached to the side of his visor, releasing the powerful red beams from his eyes to add to the mix. The area the three-way attack was directed towards was bright—too bright to look at with normal eyes.

Suddenly, he found himself flung backwards. He blinked, trying to clear his head. Oh no…

Still standing in the middle of the drive was a fully intact, and pissed Glory.

*          *          *

Oh, the Slayer was going to get it. When she got her hands around that pretty little neck, she is going to snap it like a twig. She will enjoy the feel of the limp body hanging from her fingers.

“Think that is going to stop me? Oh no. It’s going to take a lot more than that to stop me.”

There was a slight sound behind her and she turned around to see a boy, about twelve years old. Glory stared at the boy in distaste. “And who are you supposed to be?”

The boy only waved before disappearing in a cloud of sulfur dust. She coughed and looked around her. “Where did you go? Come back here you little brat!”

He reappeared a few feet to her left. She growled and ran towards him, ready to sink her fingers into his brain only to have him disappear again right before she reached him.

“Stand still you little squirt!”

“Now, that wasn’t very nice,” a female voice called out.

Glory glared at the owner. “Listen, girlie. I eat little girls like you for lunch. So why don’t you go run and get my Key before you make me really really mad!”

The girl maddeningly shook her head and crossed her arms. “I don’t think so, bitch.”

Her lips curled in a sneer. Dammit, but she was hungry. She had used up all that energy she had gotten from the busload of people while fighting with Ben and repelling the fire attack. “Fine,” she whispered. “Guess I found dinner.”

*          *          *

Kitty stood her ground as Glory advanced towards her. As the goddess pushed her fingers towards her head, she smiled in satisfaction at the rage on Glory’s face.

“What’s the matter?” Kitty ran through the woman to reappear on the other side. “Aw…is the poor hell goddess hungry?”

Glory stood in one place, her face contorted in anger. She never noticed the figure sneaking up behind her until she felt the pain in the middle.

*          *          *

Wolverine ran Glory through with his claws. He grunted as he lifted her up with one hand, still impaled, and threw her to the side.

He nodded with satisfaction at the sound of her hitting the tree. He watched as she slowly got to her feet. She lifted up her shirt and touched the bloody holes. Even as he was looking, the wounds closed up.

She looked up at him. “Oh, you are going to pay for that.”

He crouched and held up his fists. His claws glinted in the fading sunlight. “Shut up and fight.”

She grinned nastily. “Oh, nice claws. Are you compensating for something?”

He growled before attacking.

*          *          *

The Slayer watched the battle from a window. “I don’t like this,” she announced. “I don’t like waiting.”

“You must be patient, Buffy. This way, we keep Glory off balance,” Xavier said calmly.

“Yeah, off balance, irrational, insane, and still deadly. I don’t like it.” She watched as Wolverine and Glory circled around each other. She glanced over her shoulder at her Watcher. “How much longer until I can get out there?”

Giles looked at Xavier. “Charles?” he asked.

Xavier nodded and closed his eyes, placing his hands to his head in concentration.

*          *          *

Just as Glory was about to punch Logan, she felt someone trying to get into her mind. She screamed and pushed. “Get out!”

*          *          *

The wheelchair flew backwards and collided with a bookcase, causing several books to fall to the floor. Hank ran over to his friend who was doubled over in the chair. “Charles!”

Xavier waved him away and slowly sat up. “I’m fine.” He was pale and sweating slightly but he managed a small smile. “I found something out about her. I found out how to defeat her.”

“What is it?” Buffy looked at him, waiting for his answer.

“She has a dual nature. In her current form, she is invulnerable. In the other form however…”

Buffy frowned and turned back towards the window. “So we need to get her to change forms. But how?”

*          *          *

Jean felt a familiar touch in her mind. What is it, Professor? I’m a little busy right now. She was coordinating the attack against Glory.

Link with me.

She complied and images and information flooded into her. She nodded. I got it, Professor. But can the two of us do it ourselves?

I do not know, and I do not want to find out. Can you ask for some magical assistance?

She turned towards Willow and Tara who were in the room with her. “We found out how to defeat Glory. But we need your help.”

*          *          *

Tara’s mind raced as she tried to find a spell that would work. Finally, she nodded. “There is a spell to bring to the surface things that are hidden.”

Jean smiled. “That is perfect. Will is work with the Professor and me using our powers?”

“It should. If all of us were pulling at the same time, it should work.”

Jean nodded. “Good. Go get ready. We’re may only get one chance at this.”

The two witches left in search of supplies.

*          *          *

Buffy frowned as Xavier outlined the plan. “Will it work?”

“I do not know. But it may be our best chance. There is just one problem though…”

“Yeah. I have to kill her.” Buffy’s mouth hardened into a line. “Look, Professor, there is no other way. She has to die in order for all of this to end.”

Xavier sighed and nodded reluctantly. “Yes.”

“If it makes you feel any better, she’s not human.”

“There are some that would not consider me human,” Hank remarked softly from the corner of the room.

Buffy turned towards him. “But you’re not evil. She is. And she wants my sister and I’m going to do anything I have to make sure Dawn is safe. I have killed before. They were demons and vampires, but I still killed them. It’s my job.”

Xavier was startled at the vehemence in her voice. He took a deep breath before he spoke. He was not by nature a violent man, but he was a practical one. He knew that in some instances, there was one thing that could be done, like it or not. “Well, then,” he said, carefully keeping his voice steady. “It looks there is no choice.”

*          *          *

Wolverine was covered in blood, and not all of it his own. Glory was covered in her share as well, but with one difference: all of her injuries healed within seconds while his took longer. He had been gifted with accelerated healing but he might as well have not had it for all the good it was doing him at the moment.

He saw a speck in the sky above him and he grinned ferally. “I’d look out if I were you,” he growled.

Glory looked at him questioning. “Wha--?”

He jumped to one side and rolled as the lightening struck the hell goddess.

*          *          *

Ororo, known as the X-men Storm, poured energy into the repeated lightening strike. Again and again, she directed pure electricity at the figure on the ground.

Dawn Summers may have only been a student at the Institute for two days but she was still a student. And there was one thing that Ororo would not stand and that was someone trying to hurt one of the children under her charge.

*          *          *

Jean studied the setup in the room. It was much like the arrangement that Dawn had prepared for her spell the other day. Was it only yesterday? she wondered. How much has changed since then.

Willow nodded at Jean.

We’re ready, the telepath sent.

*          *          *

Xavier looked towards Buffy. “Ready?” he asked.

She hefted her sword—a Japanese katana—and answered in the affirmative. Giles opened the window, giving her a clear path to the outside and Glory. “We don’t know if you’re going to get another chance at this,” he warned. “Make it count.”

She nodded at her Watcher and adjusted her grip.

*          *          *

Willow and Tara held hands and chanted. Energy swirled around the two of them. Jean watched in fascination for a moment before closing her eyes and linking with the two witches. She felt the link falter before someone grabbed hold of it. She then reached out again, careful not to break the first link, and found Xavier. He joined in the link and it crystallized.

Their four minds melded into one seamless force. She was overwhelmed with sensation and probably would have lost hold of herself if it were not for a familiar touch on her mind that pulled her back. Thank you, Professor.

She felt his familiarity surround her for a moment in a brief embrace. He pulled her gently. Come. We have a job to do.

In the background, she felt the presence of Willow and Tara as they molded the spell, anchoring the two telepaths as well as giving them the power needed to complete their task.

She linked tighter with the other three and with Xavier in particular before reaching out, searching for their target.

*          *          *

Storm let the lightening die down and watched with horror as the figure on the ground picked itself up and stood slowly. The dirt was blasted black and had turned to glass in places. She could feel the almost unbearable heat from where she stood. How can she still be alive?

Glory’s clothes were in tatters and her face was smeared with soot. Her face was twisted in fury. She advanced towards Storm who backed up.

The look in the goddess’s eyes terrified the mutant. She had seen such madness before in the eyes of elephants that had gone feral back in Africa. They had destroyed everything in their path and killed indiscriminately. But what scared her the most was not the madness, but the intelligence that was in the eyes as well.

She tried to grasp for the winds to carry her away but her control faltered and she felt a hand encircle her throat and lift her up. She felt it squeezing…squeezing…

Blackness.

*          *          *

“Ro!” Logan screamed when he saw his teammate’s body go limp. His claws unsheathed with a *snickt* and he growled. No one hurt one of his friends. No one.

He was about to attack when he saw Glory drop Ororo and double over. “No!” she screamed. “No!”

She stumbled a few steps away from the fallen Storm and leaned heavily against a nearby tree. She screamed again, a wordless cry as her body rippled and changed.

*          *          *

Buffy leapt out the window and raced across the lawn. One chance, she told herself. She gripped the katana hard with both hands as she neared her target.

She shifted her balance and thrust upward with all her might. She felt the blade enter flesh and continued driving the sword up. A part of her mind heard and registered the soft cry of pain but she remained focused.

Finally, she backed off and the body fell onto the ground. It was only then that she saw the face. Ben…

She let go of the handle and dropped beside the body. “Ben!” She cursed under her breath as she checked for a pulse. Damn it, this isn’t fair!

His eyes fluttered opened and he smiled slightly at her. “Buffy,” he whispered.

She felt tears roll down her cheeks. “I am so sorry,” she murmured. “Sorry…”

“Glory…gone…” He gasped and a trickle of blood rolled out of his mouth. “You did…right thing…” He panted and struggled to talk. “Did what…you had to…”

His voice trailed off and his eyes stared unseeing at her. With a trembling hand, she reached over and gently closed them. It was only then that she realized that her hands were covered in blood.

*          *          *

Logan cradled Ororo in his arms as he fumbled with the collar of her suit. Why did their uniforms have these high necks anyway? He ripped one glove off with his teeth and felt for a pulse. He sighed with relief when he felt the slow beats under his fingers.

He felt Cyclops behind him. He looked up at the leader of the X-men, for once no sarcastic comment on his tongue. “She’s all right,” he told Scott.

Scott nodded and looked towards his cousin who was kneeling in a pool of blood, looking at her hands in horror. She sobbed loudly and cradled her hands against her chest, her head bowed.

It was then that Logan noticed the dead body—the decidedly male body. He wondered what had happened. There was a lot more going on than he had been told.

*          *          *

Jean clutched her head and groaned. She had one hell of a headache. She opened her eyes and immediately closed them again. Too bright! She realized that she was lying on the floor.

She felt arms lift her up into a sitting position and a glass of water lifted to her lips. She drank. Two pills were pressed into her hand and she swallowed those and sat back against he wall.

Jean? Are you all right?

She grimaced. The pain only intensified with the telepathic contact. Fine. Head hurts, she answered curtly. Win?

She felt his chuckle. Yes, we won. Dawn is safe.

Good. She then let herself sink back into blessed unconsciousness.

*          *          *

Dawn hated feeling helpless. She and Spike were sitting deep underneath the school, inside Xavier’s plane, the Blackbird. If anything was to go wrong with the battle, Spike had strict orders to fly Dawn to safety.

She had lost track of how long the two of them had been in the Blackbird. She looked over at the vampire. “Do you think they’re going to win?”

Spike looked over. “Course they’re going to win. They’re the good guys, remember?”

“But good doesn’t always win.” Dawn got up and paced. “There was Jack the Ripper, and…and…the Titanic! You can’t tell me that the Titanic sinking was good. And then there was—”

Spike sighed and reached out and pulled Dawn back into her seat. “Stop worrying, little bit. Your sister isn’t going to let anything happen to you.”

There was a sound outside of the plane and both froze. The door to the outside slowly opened and Spike pushed Dawn behind him.

Buffy walked in. She was covered in blood and dirt. She looked blankly at the two. “Glory’s dead.”

Dawn pushed past Spike. “Then I’m safe. So everything is good, right, Buffy?” When her sister did not answer, Dawn looked into her face. What she saw there scared her. “Buffy? Is everything all right?”

The Slayer did not answer. She turned around slowly and walked out of the Blackbird and down the ramp.

Dawn stared after her. “Buffy?” she whispered.

----------------------------------------

Chapter Four:

She scrubbed frantically at her hands. She felt tears well up in her eyes and she awkwardly wiped them away with her sleeve while still keeping her hands under the running water.

Ben’s eyes staring up at her…

She squirted more liquid soap into her hands and scrubbed harder.

The body falling on the ground, limp…

She sniffed and turned the facet handle to the left, making the water run hotter.

The blood…

Scrub scrub scrub.

The blood had been everywhere. There had been a great pool of it on the grass and spreading onto the asphalt of the driveway. It had stained her clothes and covered her hands.

Her hands.

She scrubbed harder. The water that spilled from her hands had stopped being tinged pink a long time ago but she still scrubbed.

*          *          *

Scott sat next to Jean’s bedside. She was sleeping peacefully, her red hair spread around her face on the pillow. She was a little paler than usual but other than that looked normal. He grasped one of her hands in his own.

She stirred gently, murmuring before settling down again. He watched over her, content just to be by her. He sported a bandage around his head from where Glory had knocked him into the tree. Jubilee had been knocked unconscious but they had found her and she was currently residing in the medical bay downstairs.

Scott smiled a bit when he thought of Hank taking care of his patients down there. Along with Jubilee, Willow and Tara were also down there, as well as Xavier and Ororo.

The two witches and the Professor had suffered the same backlash as Jean had when the spell was completed. Willow and Tara had woken up briefly and had swallowed several painkillers before drifting back to unconsciousness. Xavier had been a little more stubborn, holding onto awareness with tooth and nail until Hank had slipped him a sedative.

As for Ororo…

Scott frowned thinking about his teammate and friend. The weather witch had suffered the greatest injury out of all of them. Thankfully, the spell had kicked in before Glory had been able to do any permanent damage to her. Her throat was severely bruised and she had strict orders from Hank not to overexert herself or talk for a few days but she will recover.

Overall, they had been lucky. No one had died and everyone had gotten through the battle still in one piece. Physically, anyway. Scott’s thoughts turned towards his two cousins. Buff had been horrified when Glory’s other form had been someone she had known and befriended back in Sunnydale. After telling Dawn and Spike of the outcome of the battle, she had locked herself in the bathroom and had not come out since.

The hand he held in his twitched and Scott sat up. Holding his breath, he watched intently as Jean’s eyelids fluttered and her green eyes stared up at him. “Hi,” she whispered.

He felt his lips curl up on their own violation. “Hi,” he whispered back. He reached out a hand and smoothed back her hair. “How are you feeling?”

Jean smiled back. “Tired. A little sore. Hungry.”

“Well, which do you want to remedy first?”

She reached up and stroked his cheek. “How about some food, handsome?”

He got up. “Your wish is my command,” he said teasingly. He heard her laughter behind him as he left the room.

He walked down the hall and paused as he noticed the sound of running water. He looked at the closed bathroom door. She still can’t be in there, can she? He knocked. “Buffy? Are you all right?”

There was no answer so he knocked again. “Buffy?” He sighed when the only sound he heard on the other side was water running. “Buffy, open the door this instant. Open it or I’m going to break it down.”

He heard the squeak as the facet turned and the water stopped. He waited and the door slowly opened. Buffy’s tear streaked face greeted him. She had not changed and her clothes covered in blood. Scott reached out towards her. “Hey, are you all right?”

She looked away, hugging herself. It was then that he noticed her hands. They were red from rubbing and the heat from the water. He gently held one. “Want to talk about it?” he asked softly.

She shook her head silently.

“Say something, Buffy. Anything. Talk to me.”

She looked up at him, her eyes red. “I killed him,” she whispered. Her whole body shuddered and then tears started rolling down her cheeks. “I killed him.” Scott reached out and hugged her.

“Hey, it’s going to be all right,” he murmured. The two sank towards the ground and he supported her as she sobbed into his shirt. He leaned back against the wall and just let her cry, whispering useless platitudes to her and stroking her hair.

*          *          *

Giles surveyed the gates and sighed. “I’m afraid that these may be a lost cause.”

The man standing beside him grunted in agreement. “How did you say this happened again?” He stuck his pencil behind his ear and flipped through the papers on his clipboard.

“Oh, well, one of the students here was driving home. He wasn’t really paying attention and didn’t notice that the gates were closed.”

The man winced. “Ouch. The kid all right?”

“Oh yes. He’s fine. The same cannot be said for either the car or the gates I’m afraid.”

“Yeah. Well, that’s kids for ya.” He ripped a piece of paper and handed it to Giles. “Here’s the estimate. If you want, I can get some guys here first thing tomorrow to fix it.”

Giles accepted the slip with a sigh. He really wished that there was someone else who could have done this but all of the other teachers except for Hank—who could not exactly have met with the repairman without a lot of raised eyebrows—were either in the medical bay or sporting bandages. He looked at the figure written on the paper and blanched. “This is rather…high, isn’t it?”

The man shrugged. “This is specialty work. Automatic gates that open remotely are expensive to install and they sure as hell ain’t cheap to fix. Not to mention that the metal is warped and will have to be welded back into shape in some places…You should be happy that I even came over this late at all but Charles Xavier is a good customer.” He shrugged again. “So, what do you say pal? Take it or leave it?”

Giles sighed. “Take it, I suppose.”

*          *          *

Jean slowly got out of bed. She had waited patiently for her husband to return but after fifteen minutes, there was still no sign of him. She reached for her robe and put it on over the shorts and t-shirt she had woken up in. She then walked to the door and opened it. Turning into the hall, she yawned, stretching her back.

She was so looking forwards to going back to bed. But first some food…

She shuffled down the hall, stopping when she rounded the corner and found Scott sitting against the wall, Buffy in his arms. From what she could see, Buffy was crying and Scott was comforting her.

Poor child…

She headed over towards the two of them and gently touched Buffy’s shoulder. When the Slayer turned wet eyes towards her, she smiled softly. “Let’s get you to bed,” she suggested.

Buffy only nodded and allowed Scott and Jean to help her up and steer her towards her room.

*          *          *

Dawn and Spike sat in the kitchen. She stared into her cup of hot chocolate, watching the steam rise up into the air. She still could not believe it. She had seen the body, had recognized the face, but somehow, it was still surreal.

Glory could not have been Ben.

Ben had been kind to her when she visited the hospital. He had comforted her during the entire ordeal with her mother and the brain tumor.

Glory…Glory had been pure evil and insane. The two could not have been the same person.

Spike sipped his chocolate and looked over at her. “It helps to talk about it, little bit. Your mother taught me that.”

She sighed and with one finger traced the rim of the mug. “I don’t know,” she told the vampire. “What should I be feeling? Should I be happy that Glory is finally gone? Or should I be upset because for her to die, a friend had to be killed?”

Spike studied the girl he had befriended. “I can’t tell you that. You have to figure that out for yourself. But just imagine what the Slayer is going through right now. She knew this Ben chap too and she was the one who killed him.” He frowned. “I wonder what the Watcher’s Council will have to say about that, what with their ‘thou shalt not kill humans’ thing.”

Dawn shrugged. “I don’t care what the Council thinks. They no longer have any hold on Buffy and can’t do anything to her.”

“Don’t be too sure about that, Dawnie. The Council is a lot more powerful than any of us wants to believe. It’s only been luck that they’ve decided not to go after Buffy.”

“And cowardice.” Dawn smiled a little. “They don’t know what to do with her. They’ve never had a Slayer like her before. She’s independent and brash and they can’t control her.”

“And they can’t get rid of her because of all the good that she does. She’s the most powerful Slayer in over a century.”

“That’s true.” Dawn frowned down at her mug and lifted it up to her lips. “I just hope that she can get through this.”

*          *          *

Buffy tossed and turned in her sleep.

Death is your gift… The spirit of the first Slayer haunted her dreams, beckoning her. You are alone. You will always be alone.

No! Buffy screamed. I refuse to believe that.

Death… The first Slayer held out a katana and Buffy took it. Death is your gift. She looked at Buffy, expectation in her eyes.

Against her will, Buffy started going through a drill with the katana, moving fluidly from one position to another. The blade sliced through the air, an extension of her body. She turned, holding the katana against herself. She felt her arm extend and the pressure of impact. The blade kept moving even as she screamed at her body to stop.

She completed the turn with her head being the last part of her body to face her target. No!

Her mother stared at her, holding the blade that had entered itself into her gut. Blood spilled from the wound over her hands. Joyce looked at her daughter, horror and disbelief in her eyes. Buffy?

Buffy let go of the katana as if it had burned her. No! she screamed. She looked at her hands and saw them covered in blood. No, she whispered. She felt liquid run down her cheeks and she caught them in her hands. She saw that they were not tears but drops of blood. No. She scrubbed at her hands, trying to cleanse herself. Come off, she begged. Please come off.

No matter how much she scrubbed, her hands remained bloody. She looked again at Joyce who was still regarding her with pain in her eyes.

“No!” Buffy sat up in bed, trembling uncontrollably. She thought back over her dream. Well, certainly don’t need Freud to tell me what that meant. She got out of bed and noticed that someone, probably Jean, had changed her out of her bloody clothes and into a pair of clean sweat pants and a t-shirt. Funny, she did not remember that. Walking over to the dresser, she looked at herself in the mirror above it.

“Death is my gift,” she whispered to herself. “No,” she said louder. “I refuse to believe it. Mom’s death is not my fault. I did not kill her. And with Ben, well, there was no other choice. Glory had to die. It was as simple as that. She was going to bring hell on earth. And the only way to kill her was to kill her vulnerable form, and that just happened through some quirk of fate to have been Ben. That’s all. There was nothing I could have done.”

She stared at herself some more and sighed, slumping her shoulders and leaning against the dresser. “So why do I feel so guilty?” she asked herself softly.

*          *          *

Willow and Tara had woken up and had been very vocal in their need for food. Hank had finally thrown his hands up and directed the two witches to the kitchen. “But right back to bed for the both of you after you eat,” he had ordered.

The two made their way upstairs and found the kitchen already occupied. Scott was sitting at the kitchen table watching somewhat bemusedly as Jean practically inhaled an enormous sandwich. She spotted the two of them and waved them in, pointing at the counter which was covered with everything that could possibly be used to make a sandwich. “Help yourself,” she called out before she took another bite.

Willow and Tara had just sat down with two rather thick sandwiches when the Professor rolled in. “Ah,” he said. “It seems that I was not the only one in the hankering for a late night snack.”

“It’s the magic,” Tara explained.

“So Dawn explained to me. I am afraid I was not sufficiently sympathetic at the time, now that I have an idea of what she was going through.” He made himself a sandwich that rivaled that of the two witches’ combined.

He took a large bite of it and sighed in contentment. “I must say, for my first foray into the world of the supernatural, it was not much different from using my mutant powers. It was only more…”

“Intense I think is the word you’re looking for, Professor.”

He nodded. “Yes. Thank you, Jean.”

Willow smiled. “Well, from what I can tell, mutant abilities are a lot like magic. The only difference is that you are born with them while magic can be learned. It’s only that mutations are somewhat limiting in their scope.”

“Quite.” Xavier looked fascinated. “I wonder if Cerebo would pick up on you using magic…”

Scott laughed. “Oh no. I recognize that look. I suggest the two of you run while you can before he uses you as lab rats.”

Xavier looked a bit affronted. “Really, Scott. One would think that you would hold your mentor in higher regard.” The twinkle in his eye gave him away though, and all five of them laughed.

*          *          *

The halls were deserted. Well, it is the middle of the night, Buffy thought to herself. After waking up from her dream, she found that she could not fall asleep again. So in the tradition of the many Slayers before her who suffered from insomnia or had something on their minds, she had decided to work out.

She had the entire gym to herself. She noticed with some regret that the punching bag still had the hole in it from before. Too bad. I really could hit something. Her eyes lit up however when she spotted the giant trampoline in the corner. For the first time since Giles had told her that Glory was on her way, she smiled.

God, she thought as she climbed up. When was the last time I was on one of these?

Sixth grade, her mind supplied. Her grandmother had given her a trip to gymnastics camp for her birthday. Even at that young an age, she had still excelled. Those skills had come in handy when she tried out for the cheerleading squad in high school. And later, as well, when she found that agility and acrobatics can get you out of a tight spot when dealing with demons.

She gave an experimental hop and grinned outright when she rebounded a foot into the air. She bent her knees and really pushed this time. At the apex of the jump, she twisted so that she spun around and around in all directions. Landing, she laughed and jumped again. To be a kid again. What I wouldn’t give.

Jump, somersault.

No demons to kill, no one trying to come after you, no Hellmouth to protect. Yeah, that would be the life.

Grinning, she positioned herself so that she landed in a handstand. Bending her elbows, she launched herself into the air again, cartwheeling in midair.

On her next trip down, she was surprised to see another figure pass her. “Dawn? What are you doing?”

“Same thing you are.” She waved as they passed each other again. “Looked like fun so I decided to join in.”

Buffy laughed again, letting go of her guilt, if only momentarily. The two sisters played and laughed, each trying to get higher than the other. For the moment, there were no demons, no vampires, no troubles. Just the trampoline, each other, and only the sky to limit them.

*          *          *

Hank Summers was woken up with the phone ringing. He picked up the receiver. “Hello?” he said, still half asleep. He had gotten back from Greece late last night and had not gotten as much sleep as he wanted to.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I wake you? I must have gotten the time difference wrong. This is Charles Xavier. Your daughter Dawn is currently enrolled in my school.”

Hank sat up. “Is something wrong with her? Did she do something?”

“It is just that she seems very unhappy here. Mr. Summers, if I may be so bold, I would recommend that Dawn be allowed to return to her old school. She has gotten extremely homesick.”

Hank rubbed his eyes. “But it’s only been a few days. Maybe if she’s given time to adjust she’ll find she likes it there.”

“It’s not only her that I am concerned with. Your other daughter, Buffy, showed up as well, demanding that her sister be returned home. Now, you are their father and I am sure that you feel that you know what is best for them. However, I have been teaching for a very long time and I can see that Dawn does not belong here. I feel that she would be happier back in Sunnydale.”

“Wait a minute. Buffy showed up? What is she doing over in New York? She has classes!”

“My point exactly, Mr. Summers. It is obvious that the two love each other dearly and I would hate to have to separate them. I am sure you can understand where I am coming from.”

Hank sighed. “But I want what is best for Dawn. Your school, I feel, is just that.”

“From what your two daughters have told me, you neglected to ask them of their opinions in the matter. Now, Buffy is perfectly capable of taking care of Dawn herself. She is also old enough. I’m sure that is she were so inclined, she could petition for legal guardianship.”

“She wouldn’t!”

“And I would support her. Mr. Summers, I have very important friends throughout the country. Senators, judges, and the like. I would be perfectly willing to use any means at my disposal to ensure that the two are happy. After all, Scott is like a son to me, so I suppose that makes Buffy and Dawn my nieces.”

Hank opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to speak. “I…see,” he managed finally. “I suppose I can arrange for Dawn to go back to her old school in Sunnydale…”

“I am so glad. Thank you for your time, Mr. Summers. Good day.” The phone clicked, signaling that the other man had hung up.

Hank stared at the receiver in his hand for a few seconds before shaking his head in confusion. What had just happened there? After the first sleepy ‘Hello’, he had rapidly lost control of the conversation.

*          *          *

Buffy hugged Scott. “Take care of yourself,” she told him.

He smiled down at her, his ruby quartz glasses hiding his eyes. “You too. And you take care of Dawn.”

“Don’t I always?” She smiled and hugged him again. “Hey, keep in touch this time. I don’t want to only have to see you when someone dies.”

A little distance off, Logan was saying his goodbyes to Dawn. “Hey, kid, when you get home, give some vampire a punch in the gut for me.”

She laughed a bit. “I’ll do that,” she told him.

“And no more getting into cars with strangers.” He waved a finger in her face. “For all you know, they could be homicidal killers. You be careful.”

After that, it was Rogue and Jubilee’s turn. The two hugged Dawn. “You have my e-mail address, right?” Jubilee asked her. “You drop me a line sometime. Tell us how life is on a Hellmouth.”

Rogue shook her head. “Man, I still can’t believe it. Demons and vampires. Wow. And here I thought my life couldn’t get any stranger.”

Dawn smiled. “Believe me. When you get to that mindset, that’s when the Powers that Be throw you a curveball. I should know.”

The three laughed.

Giles and Xavier were off to the side a bit, watching the group. “So,” Giles commented. “It has been an interesting few days.”

“That it has.” Xavier smiled when he saw Ororo try to communicate to Willow and Tara using only gestures. “I must say that you have certainly broadened my view of things. Suddenly, the world seems a whole lot bigger and a whole lot more mysterious.”

“I can relate. When you enter magic into the equation, anything seems possible.”

Xavier nodded. “Yes. Anything at all.”

Over the noise, the announcement was made that flight 745 to Los Angeles was boarding. Buffy hugged Scott one more time before picking up her carry-on. “Well, I guess this is it. Spike’s probably all nice and comfy in the luggage hold.” She turned to Jean. “You take care of my cousin.”

“Oh, I will.” Jean linked arms with her husband and leaned against him, a content look on her face. “Have a good flight.”

Buffy waved back as she and rest of the Sunnydale crew headed for the boarding gate.

*          *          * 

Dear Buffy and Dawn,

Things are fine here at the Institute, though I must say that your visit has definitely left a mark on us. The number of customers that the occult shop in town, The Whispering Dragon, has increased enormously which has the proprietor happy. Almost all are students here though there are a few teachers as well.

Speaking of which, Ororo has asked me to ask you to send some dried demonsbane in the mail. It seems that the demon who runs the shop is severely overcharging her.

Life is slowly returning to normal. And if there are a few more pencils floating in the air, then so be it. I suppose there are worse things than a healthy interest in magic. At least they aren’t doing drugs.

A new student arrived the day after you left. His name is Remy LeBeau and he has the ability to charge things he touches with kinetic energy. Hank was fascinated and must have run dozens of test on him. Be glad that you missed out on the blue ape using you as a lab rat. Remy, or Gambit as he more often called, seems to be fitting in here. He certainly is a charmer and has most of the female students in the palm of his hand. I’m glad that Dawn got out of there when she did or Gambit might have had to deal with a very protective cousin!

We buried Ben. There is a cemetery on the grounds of the school and we put him there. He has a simple gravestone, just his name (First only. You never did say what his last name was.) and the day he died. Maybe in death he is finally free of Glory.

Charles is already talking of having you all come back to visit sometime during the summer. He felt that Buffy would be a more than adequate teacher in self-defense and martial arts. And I get the feeling that he would also like to observe the Slayer some more—determine what it is that makes you different from a mutant. I wouldn’t be scared though. It’s just that sometimes the scientist in him gets a little carried away. When he and Hank get together sometimes, it’s like they’re on their own wavelength. And when you add Jean to the mix, it gets downright intimidating.

Jean says hi, by the way, and hopes that everything is well in Sunnydale. She somehow managed to get the Professor to agree to letting the X-men come visit the next time we get a vacation. We’re all looking forward to that. Especially Logan. I think he’s looking forward to meeting Spike again. On some strange level, the two of them bonded—don’t ask me about it. I’m probably just as confused as you. I can just see the two of them, trolling for vamps. Makes me glad that I still have a pulse.

Anyway, that’s about all. I’ll keep the two of you updated on going-ons here at the Institute. Just doing my part to stay in touch. Love you both; take care.

Scott

Buffy finished reading the letter and folded it, carefully slipping it back in the envelope. She noticed that Scott did not mention Ben until the middle of the letter and then quickly changed the subject again. Probably to try and spare her.

She got up from the sofa and walked to stare out the window, letting the afternoon sunlight bathe her. She had finally come to terms with Ben’s death. She had lost so many in her fight throughout the years. But she had never directly caused their death herself.

She supposed that some may consider her a murderer but for some reason, her mind refused to associate herself with that word. She was not Faith who had killed and then tried to deny it, trying to act like it had not happened.

It had been the opposite with Buffy. She had stayed up late, replaying the entire scene in her head, unable to fall asleep. Every time she passed the hospital, she felt a pang of guilt. But eventually, the pain lessened. Dawn was still alive. The world was still here. Everything was as it should be.

She would never forget Ben. Never.

But she had spent too much time in the darkness; she wanted to step into the light again. She would never be truly free of the darkness—no, it was too much a part of her. She was still the Slayer after all. But instead of being one or the either—light or dark—she could be both.

Yes.

Buffy stood at the window, feeling the warmth of the sunlight on her skin. Later, she would have to go and hunt in the darkness again, but for now…for now, she rested. It was enough.

--fin--

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