Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, Marti Noxon, Mutant Enemy, Twentieth Century Fox Productions, Kuzui Enterprises, Sandollar Television, and UPN. Any copyright infringements were not intended. This story was written for entertainment and not for profit.

Spoilers: For Buffy, general spoilers for the Master and his lair, general S3 spoilers, more specific spoilers for both parts of "What's My Line?", "Chosen", "Hell's Bells", "Spiral", and various Angel and Buffy tidbits.

Timing: In 1998: after "What's My Line, Part Two". In 2002: between "As You Were" and "Hell's Bells". In 2003: during and two months after "Chosen". In 2007: four years after the end of Buffy. In 2028: fifteen years after the conclusion of Buffy. In 8,000 BC: way, way, way, way (there aren't enough pages in this fic to illustrate how many 'way's there are) before the first episode of Buffy.

Summary: It's a few days before Xander and Anya's wedding, but it's also a few days after the debacle with the Order of Taraka in junior year. Buffy, Faith, and the Potentials are preparing to enter the Hellmouth and go up against the First's army, while at the same time the Shadow Men are merging demonic energy to a human girl to create the first Slayer. Time seems to have ceased flowing in one direction, but Xander seems to be the only one to realize it. Also, there's someone after him and he's determined to get Xander one way or another, and it's all because of a destiny Xander never would have dreamed of having or even wanting.

Author's Notes: Here is yet another story where nothing really happens, where there is a plot but, instead of very drastic changes, everything is returned to pretty much the way they started. I hope you enjoy. I sincerely hope I don't confuse the hell out of everyone with the number of times I go back and forth and forward and backward in time. I also hope I don't confuse myself.

Special thanks go to my amazing beta-readers/editors, Grossclout, aka the Editor From Hell, and Julian Leow.

*****

PROLOGUE

Before the first human was born on Earth, there were the dinosaurs, and before dinosaurs, there were demons.

Wars between rival demon clans and nations brought about the ice age and the destruction of most of the dinosaurs, not an asteroid as modern science has theorized. Humans and demons alike hunted the rest of the dinosaurs to extinction. When that was done, humans and demons began to hunt each other. At first, it appeared that the demons would ultimately be the victors of the long, millennia-long struggle. Then more and more humans began to be born and they spread all over the known world, taking over lands where only demons once dwelled. It was then that the balance shifted, turning in favor of the humans.

In response, the demons retaliated even further. Spells, mating rituals, power-whatever it took, demons everywhere sought new ways of dealing with the human threat, whether through an increase in demon procreation or through conquests for more and more power that they could use to fight the humans. Slowly but surely, the demons began to regain the upper hand.

The demons were not the only ones to seek magical weapons and allies. Tribal shamans became the first warlocks and witches to ever walk the earth. However, their aid still wasn't enough. The humans needed something else to avoid complete annihilation by their common foe.

It was for this reason that the first Slayer was created.

Many hoped that with her help, the scales would tip in their favor once again. For awhile, it appeared to work. With the Slayer and her successors on their side, the humans were able to destroy a good portion of the demons all over the world.

Many, however, feared it ultimately wouldn't be enough. Three of those people were the same shamans that created the first Slayer. They were known as the Shadow Men for their dealings into dark and mysterious magick; even the demons feared them.

The Shadow Men stood on the crest of a dune. No one else, humans, demons, and animals alike, were around for miles. Strong winds blew through the desert, whipping sand into their eyes, mouths and clothes. The Shadow Men ignored the storm; they couldn't feel it and were not bothered by it. It would soon pass. What was more important was the fate of their world.

"It will not be enough," one of the three men spoke to his companions.

"We must do more," a second said.

The third nodded. "I agree."

Suddenly, their surroundings changed. Gone were the dune and sandstorm. They now stood in a dark, cold cave, the very same cave where they created the first Slayer. The chains that held the girl in place were also there. This time, they were empty.

The Shadow Men stood at three points, forming a square with the chains and the fourth point. The man opposite the chains held a box; the other two held their staffs. The two lifted the staffs off the ground before bringing them back down again. They did this again and again, creating an unmistakable rhythm that echoed off the rock walls.

Thump, thump, thump.

Thump, thump, thump.

Thump, thump, thump.

Thump, thump, thump.

After the eighth sequence, the three men began to chant.

"We call upon the elements."

Thump, thump, thump.

"We call upon the Gods."

Thump, thump, thump.

"We ask them to aid us in our cause."

Thump, thump, thump.

The third shaman opened the box. Suddenly, a wind picked up out of nowhere. A white-black mist floated up out of the box and traveled through the air to the corner with the chains.

They continued to beat their sticks and chant. For several minutes, the mist floated lazily over the chains, but before their eyes, it began to twirl in the air, becoming a miniature tornado. It caused the wind already forming to pick up drastically. As they had with the sandstorm, however, the Shadow Men acted as if it wasn't there. Not even the force of the rapidly-moving winds stilled the constant beat of their walking sticks against the ground.

Thump, thump, thump.

Thump, thump, thump.

"We call the earth to create," they chanted without even raising their voices. Despite that, they could still hear each other clearly over the magical storm.

Thump, thump, thump.

"We call upon the water to nourish."

Thump, thump, thump.

"We call upon the wind to animate."

Thump, thump, thump.

"We call upon the fire to give life."

Thump, thump, thump.

The three men repeated these four phrases over and over and over again. Slowly, as the hours went by, something began to take form within the swirling black mist.

Two days of chanting later, that something would take the form of a newly created being. He would appear to be a man, but he wasn’t.

His purpose was something much greater than a mere man could provide.

*****

He had been a Watcher for close to forty-eight years now. Of course, if he included the years he spent in training, beginning at the age of ten, that service was more like sixty years. It didn't matter; either way, it still felt like a long, long time ago, much longer than it actually was.

So many things had happened to him, perhaps too many things. Many of those things were dark moments in his past while others were very fond memories. Still, Rupert Giles was looking very forward to retirement in another year or so.

He'd already laid down the first steps toward leaving the Watchers, but it would take a while for all of the steps to be implemented. He was the Head of the Council, after all; it would take a while for all of the Watchers and Slayers to decide on a new leader. At least the Potentials and the Watchers-in-Training didn't get to have a say; there was enough controversy among the decision-makers as it was.

Giles personally planned to recommend one Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, who had been his right-hand man for the past quarter-century. It was still too early for that, though. For one, he needed to discuss it with Wesley first.

That would have to wait until the next day, however. Tonight, he was visiting his sister and her family.

Rupert Giles' family rarely ever got to see him. Most of them weren't Watchers and therefore weren't involved in Council business, which took up quite a bit of his time since he had moved back to England. When he did go to visit them, Giles was always asked to tell a story about his time as the Watcher of the longest-surviving Slayer in history.

Buffy Anne Summers was now legend to all who heard about her. Buffy had been called as a Slayer at the age of fifteen and, after dying twice, she went on slaying for two years. That was before the spell that was performed by the just-as-famous Willow Rosenberg. The powerful witch's spell called on all Potentials, transforming them into Slayers within only a few moments.

Since then, Slayers had come in seeming abundance, although they were no less needed. The Council had changed many of its practices after the death of Quentin Travers. Together, Giles and Wesley had spent the last two and a half decades changing the council for the better. Every Slayer found was treated with respect and as the people they were, instead of just as weapons. New Watchers also needed to be trained, and they had their hands full finding competent ones that would treat the Slayers fairly.

Buffy Anne Summers stopped Slaying on a regular basis. Instead, she devoted her time to training the new Slayers with Faith. However, once every Slayer had been found and trained sufficiently, Buffy returned to Slaying. She retired from that life at the age of forty-five, and Faith was getting ready to do the same. Many of the other Slayers were more than capable nowadays to take their places.

Giles needed to remember to call Buffy; her forty-seventh birthday was coming up. He still couldn't believe that his Slayer had managed to live for that long. It didn't help to have nearly five hundred other Slayers around. Unfortunately, that number became lower and lower with every passing year.

Half of the Slayers that had helped to take down the First Evil back in 2003 had returned to their families and homes, while the other half stayed to complete their training and help with the slaying. Over the next few years, the new Watchers Council, acting under Willow Rosenberg's direction, located all of the other newly-activated Slayers. Not all of the new Slayers were old enough to make decisions on their own. Ten or twenty of them hadn't even been over the age of five. All of the parents of those Slayers had decided to keep their daughters out of the Slaying for now. Ten or so years later, over half of those same Slayers had decided to take up the Slaying mantle.

Overall, about sixty-five percent of the Slayers activated through Willow's spell ultimately joined the side of the light. A smaller percentage went through training before deciding to be on stand-by in case they were needed; very few of them were, fortunately.

The worst news for their side was that Willow's spell only affected Potentials that were already born. While many Slayers managed to retire after Buffy and Faith, many of them didn't live long enough to do so. A new Slayer wasn't called after each woman's death. Wesley theorized that a new Slayer would be called either after the last of this batch had been killed, or after Faith's death. In the meantime, their number grew smaller and smaller every decade.

Giles' sister, her husband, one of her two brothers-in-law, and some of their children knew all of this. Giles' sister wasn't a Watcher, but her husband and brother-and-law were, along with her two oldest children and her nephew. Still, whenever the entire family got together, they made an effort not to speak about Council matters. However, nothing excited Giles' younger nieces, nephews, and great nieces and nephews more than to hear tales of Giles' many adventures with Buffy and the rest of the alleged 'Scooby Gang'.

When Giles arrived at his sisters' house in Bath, his great-nieces and great-nephews ran out to meet him. Everyone enjoyed his visits, and he enjoyed seeing them. After an excellent meal that was cooked by several members of the family, all of them gathered around in the parlor to hear yet another one of Giles' stories. Even some of the adults were close to begging him to tell a story before all of them were even seated.

Giles only smiled, amused at their antics. "Oh, all right," he finally consented, as if it was a great burden to him.

Shouts of relief and excitement rang throughout the room, and not just from the kids.

Giles smiled at them before taking a deep breath. "What to tell you today…" He thought, long and hard, while his family waited in anticipation. After what seemed to be forever, Giles licked his lips and nodded. "I know exactly what to talk about today. I'll tell you all about Xander…"

"The Entity-Dreamer?" one of his great-nephews, Alex, asked. The young man of only eight wanted to be a Watcher just like his father and grandfather, and great-uncle, and was just beginning to learn everything he could about the man he was named after, one Alexander LaVelle Harris.

Giles nodded. "Precisely. You see, Xander wasn't always known as the 'Entity Dreamer' or other names related to that. He started out as one of the bravest, and perhaps one of the stupidest, young men I've had the pleasure of knowing." He chuckled. "Of course, he's not so young anymore, but he was when I met him."

"Today, I will tell you how he came to be known as the Entity-Dreamer, or more accurately, the Entity itself. It began early on in the spring of 1998. Buffy Summers was half-way through her junior year of public high school. I'd been Buffy's Watcher for close to a year by then, and I'd known her friends for just as long. Little did I know just how special her friends really were."

"It all began when there was a break-in at the former Watcher Headquarters in London…"