Disclaimer: I own no one, most especially the characters in this story. I'm merely borrowing them and putting them in bizarre situations for the amusement of myself and others.

***************************

*No one's trying to stop me.*

This was the thought that slowed Xander's approach. He saw gray skinned minions standing behind where Menckar was standing, but none of them were stepping forward to protect their master. He stopped a few feet away, confused. Something about this was very off. Menckar wanted his children to be vessels of something nasty, not a snack. The demon was deliberately goading him on. And if Menckar wanted him to attack, that was definitely not something he should be doing.

"Come on!" Menckar roared angrily. "Are you such a coward you'll let your children die? Damn you, why can't you just once be predictable?"

"It's part of my charm," Xander panted. "And you keep forgetting something."

"What is that?"

"Those aren't my kids. And you've fixed it so they never will be."

"Ah, yet you still came here to save them. You care about them deeply, don't try to pretend otherwise. They represent your future, Alexander Harris. A future that I have taken away from you. A future I have destroyed simply because...well, just because I could, really. But as long as they're here, living, breathing..." Menckar almost gently placed the baby back into Tara's arms, "...screaming..." He touched one of the crystals surrounding his captives. Tara screamed, and the children cried out for their father.

"Dammit, stop hurting them!" Xander said, his voice gruff with pain, his whole body trembling in fury. Menckar just laughed.

"Help, Daddy!" Xander heard Joy cry out.

"Daddy, please!" He heard several of the others scream.

"Make me stop, Harris. What other choice do you have? Come on, let's end this!" Menckar called in an almost reasonable tone. Unable to bear the sounds of the children's cries, Xander raised the sword yet again.

***************************

"I see the head!"

"Great. Now get it the hell out of me!"

"Hold your bleedin’ horses-HEY! That hurt! Stop biting the fingers, bint!"

"I wish I had! You're enjoying this!"

"The hell I am!"

"You are...you want us to die, so you can drink our blood..."

"Normally I'd be flattered, but I'm right pissed. Just so you know, when you're lookin’ for me to watch your squallin’ brat, my rates just went up. Now push, dammit!"

"I hate you!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

***************************

He slowly stepped closer. He was almost to Menckar, who appeared unarmed other than his own claws and teeth. None of the demon's minions had made a move to stop him. But all Xander could think was that the kids were hurting and he had to make it stop somehow. He braced himself for dealing the killing blow...and staggered. Something brushed his mind, utterly foreign but strangely familiar. He heard a voice from inside his head, and it wasn't his own.

"Get on with it already. I swear, I've never had to wait this long for someone to try to kill me before," Menckar was feigning boredom, but Xander could tell he was anxious for him to proceed. Xander was anxious himself. He had sensed a lot of strain in Willow's mind, and right before she faded out he was certain she was in pain. He prayed she would be all right.

"Really? Does this happen often?" Xander asked, stalling for time while he racked his brain for a solution.

"More often than you'd think, actually. But most of the time it's just disgruntled minions...quit stalling."

"What makes you think I'm stalling? Maybe I'm just looking for a vulnerable spot! Of course, there's the neck, but that's so obvious. There might be another spot that I'd like better..." Xander said, trying to judge his distance to Dawn using only his peripheral vision. Menckar roared angrily and began to close the distance between the two of them himself. The children's cries ceased as suddenly as they had begun.

"You are an infuriating human!"

"I get that a lot," Xander agreed, nodding to himself. He raised the sword higher, feinted towards the demon, then took off at a full run towards Dawn. Menckar screamed in fury.

"Stop him!" the demon hollered, and Xander skidded to a stop as he found himself surrounded by gray-skinned demons one moment, then familiar faces the next as the demons morphed. False images of Anya, Giles, Willow and Buffy surrounded him now, closing in on him quickly. Xander stared at Menckar in disbelief.

"Do I look like a total idiot?" Xander asked, then quickly added, "Don't answer that, really." He had seen that these minions had weapons. The look-alikes of Buffy and Giles both were holding long wicked-looking knives that seemed to Xander like they could easily cut him into little Xander pieces, while the faux Willow and Anya looked like they planned on going medieval on him with spiky maces. "Hey you guys, lookin sharp!" he quipped weakly.

Xander struck out desperately with the sword, then felt something seem to take control. He could fight some; working with the Slayer for as long as he had you picked up some moves. But this was different. He could see what he needed to do, but the sword was obeying his every thought with a skill level he did not naturally possess. He countered a slashing move by the Giles minion's knife before moving in a sweeping gesture and cutting off the head of the Anya minion. He swallowed hard as the minion took on its natural appearance. Not allowing himself time to think he slashed across and slightly upwards and then back again, disarming the Buffy and Giles minions in one slice and decapitating them cleanly in the other. Without turning he stepped aside, avoiding a debilitating blow from the only remaining minion, then did a deft quarter turn and thrust the sword into the chest of the image of his best friend. For a second the minion's all too familiar green eyes stared in shock and grief, then the illusion faded and he removed the sword from the body of the fallen minion.

Xander's lip curled up in distaste. He wanted to wipe the noxious blood from the sword, but there was no time. He headed towards Dawn again, ignoring the other approaching minions and Menckar's screams of outrage. He looked at Dawn's nearly lifeless form, hesitating for just a moment. Closing his eyes, he said a silent prayer to whoever was in charge of this nightmare that he was doing the right thing. Gritting his teeth, he brought the sword down...

***************************

Willow fell forward, nearly unconscious. Her eyelids fluttered but couldn't quite stay open, and blood was gushing from her nose and ears. Anya supported her shoulders and gently nudged her back into a sitting position. She shook her slightly, trying to bring her back to consciousness.

"Did it work? Did you reach him?" Anya asked urgently.

"I...my head...yes...I told him..." Willow mumbled.

"Oh. Good. It is good, right? What did you tell him to do?"

"I think...I told him to kill Dawn...oh God, what if we're wrong?" Willow moaned.

"He'll do the right thing. He's the Xander I knew. The one I love. I trust him."

"I do," Willow whispered as she fell forward again. Anya caught her in her arms, almost falling over. She thought that the witch had merely passed out until she felt how cold her skin was. A sudden panic washed over her, and she felt for a pulse, finding none.

"Oh, God...help me, somebody!" Anya screamed. As a nurse and an intern ran to them, Anya breathed her own prayer. *Please, help Xander. Help make it like it was...like it was supposed to be.*

***************************

Menckar reached Xander a second too late. He had already brought the sword down and cut Dawn loose. The girl slumped to the ground, barely breathing. Then everything happened at once. Menckar grabbed Xander from behind, screaming in fury. He wrapped one arm around Xander's chest and the other around his throat, causing him to gasp for breath. The black swirling hole no longer pulsed, instead it began emitting a piercing sound, like a million birds shrieking at once. Xander would have clamped his hands over his ears if his hands weren't pinned. The sound was rapidly being drowned out by a roar that he knew was only in his head. His oxygen-deprived brain registered that he could hear people shouting, but the other sounds were drowning it out, making it seem far away. A hazy blackness was beginning to cloud his vision, and he renewed his struggles, feeling himself weakening. Menckar laughed, easing up slightly on the hold.

"Foolish man, you think you've won? This time maybe, but I have infinite chances, don't I? I have all the time possible to get this right." Menckar chuckled as he watched Xander's eyes close. He let go, sending the barely conscious young man sprawling. The next second he felt something incredibly painful hit him in the back, driving him to his knees. He rose and turned to meet this new threat, and his eyes narrowing in distaste.

"You..." he growled at Tara, who was standing with the children huddled behind her, balancing a fireball on her palm almost nonchalantly. The crystals that had imprisoned them had crumbled into dust, and clearly the witch's powers had been restored. The Harris brood was looking back and forth between the strange warped blackness, which was still growing, the crumpled form of their father and the much-hated demon, but Tara looked only at Menckar, her eyes black with anger.

"Nobody threatens these kids!" she screamed, hurling the fireball. Menckar tried to duck, but the missile sought him out and knocked him off of his feet again. She looked down at Frankie with a grim smile. "Get your dad and get everyone out of here. I'm going to finish this."

Xander felt something tugging on his sleeve and opened his eyes. He blinked a couple times, and the blur coalesced into Frankie's concerned face looking down at him. For some reason this gave him goose bumps. *Déjà vu all over again,* he thought dazedly, then shook his head to try to clear it.

"Dad? Xander?" Frankie asked tentatively.

"Frankie. What's happening?"

"Aunt Tara said to get you out of here. She's wailing on the bad guys."

"Oh. That's...very bad!" Xander muttered, letting the boy help him to his feet. His head pounded and his chest burned, but he'd suffered worse damage fighting at Buffy's side. He grabbed Frankie by the shoulders. "Get your brothers and sisters out of here, okay?" Frankie shook his head.

"I got them out. I want to stay with you."

"It's too dangerous. Go make sure your brothers and sisters are okay!"

"No! You need me! I can help!" Frankie protested, his head cocked like his mother. Xander resolved to be firm and parental, even though he had no idea how that was done. *Think Giles, that's as close as you've ever come.*

"That's an order! As your father-" The boy suddenly burst into tears. *Uh-oh, what did I do?* Xander thought dizzily.

"You're not my father! He's gone. If you die he's never coming back and my mommy won't know me and I'll never get to go home! So you can't die! Please!" Frankie was sobbing so hard that Xander could barely understand his words. He grabbed the boy into a hug, hoping he could soothe him.

"It's gonna be okay. Everything's gonna be okay."

"Daddy..." the child hiccupped, and Xander's heart felt like it skipped a beat. This boy would be his son someday, but only if he could get things back the way they should be. He straightened, newly resolved, and scanned the area for Tara. What he saw terrified him. Tara appeared to have Menckar dead to rights, and her eyes had turned black, her mouth distorted into an enraged scowl. He had never seen her like this, and it was clear that she had Menckar dead to rights.

*If she kills him, will the same things happen as if I killed him?* Xander wondered. *I don't know, but I can't risk it.*

"Tara, don't do it!" he yelled. The blonde witch looked over at him, hesitating. This was long enough for Menckar to move towards the strange black hole. Xander was nearly overcome by a sense of déjà vu. He knew what Menckar was going to do. Even as he broke into a run, he knew he was not going to be able to stop it.

"Till we meet again, Mr. Harris," Menckar growled, moving his hand in a mock salute. Then he leapt into the screaming void. The second he had passed through it disappeared, the annoying sound still echoing through the chamber but fading rapidly.

"No!" Xander yelled, skidding to a stop. He punched the air helplessly. "I hate when he does that!"

"Where did he go?" Frankie asked.

"Wherever he always goes," Xander answered absently.

"What?" Tara asked, still in shock from the sudden disappearance of the demon.

"What what?" Xander repeated dully. He was still staring at the place where Menckar had disappeared.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you okay?" Xander asked, not seeming to even hear the question.

"Yes. No. I guess so. I don't understand what you're saying, Xander. Menckar disappeared like this before? When he was holding us captive?"

"Not then. Now," Xander said in that same absent tone, then frowned in confusion. "What am I saying?"

"I have no idea. Are YOU alright?"

"Not really sure. Something feels...really weird. It's déjà vu, only stronger. Like...like the movie Groundhog's Day, only if Bill Murray didn't know the day was repeating."

"Oh. Yeah. No, I still don't understand."

"Me either. It's a feeling, like I said. A very special, new, really, really bad feeling."

"Describe it. Without movie references."

"Like...like...like this is the part where I keep screwing up." He moved over to Dawn, dropping to his knees and cradling her head in his lap gently. "Or maybe I already did." Tara crouched down and checked Dawn over, struggling for clinical detachment.

"She's still alive, but I think...it won't be much longer," Tara said softly, her eyes sad. A second later she stood abruptly.

"The kids! I almost forgot about the kids!"

"I told them to go back to where we were before, to Aunt Amy. Jenny's leading the way, she's using the spell Aunt Willow taught her. They're okay," Frankie said, nodding in satisfaction. Tara looked more worried than relieved.

"Amy! Oh my God, she was having-"

"-the baby," Xander finished softly, as if trying not to wake Dawn. It was easier for him to tell himself that she was asleep than dying. "It's okay. Spike's with her. To help." Tara and Frankie both started talking excitedly.

"Spike? Are you nuts?"

"Yay! Uncle Spike's here!"

***************************

"It's been a long time since I've had so much blood on my hands," Spike said softly. "Course, back then I was spilling it myself. Big bad bringer of death, that's what I am, not some soddin midwife bringing bloody babies into the world. No, no, shhh, don't cry, your mum's resting up, see? We just have to get you all cleaned up so she can see I didn't take any bites out of you, right? See your mum's a big powerful witch, and she'd turn Uncle Spike into a dust bunny the second she thought I'd nipped a bit. She would! Don't give me that look, I've stared down worse than you!"

"Spike?" Amy called weakly, and Spike hurriedly finished drying the freshly washed infant, wrapping him in the baby blanket that had fortuitously been left behind.

"Don't fret, luv," he called back to Amy as he placed the infant in her arms. "There, all better. Meet your offspring." He watched tears of joy and wonder spill down Amy's face and hid his smile. "Bloody Madonna painting. Makes me want to go kill something." Amy opened her mouth to retort, but he held up his hand for silence. She frowned, remembering how much danger they were still in.

"What is it?" she asked, barely audible.

"We've got company coming. Footsteps, lots of them. And I'm guessing it's not the three wise men comin’ to pay their respects."

"Trouble?" Amy asked, worried. Spike listened closer, then surprised her by chuckling softly.

"Most definitely. Very familiar trouble." He moved to the edge of the makeshift curtain and looked out, then nodded. "You stay here and do the whole bloody bonding thing. Makes me sick to watch you anyway. I'll take care of this."

"Spike!" Amy hissed, but he had already crossed to the other side of the curtain. Amy heard murmured voices, then Spike's voice reached her ears, his tone sending shivers down her spine. Instinctively she held the baby closer.

"Look at you lot, all full of piss and vinegar. Don't you know who you're dealing with? William the Bloody, that's who. And anyone who forgets that will have to attend a very unpleasant lesson on the subject. Now, who's the Big Bad?"

"You are, Uncle Spike," A chorus of children's voices responded, and Amy realized she'd been had. She waved her hand, and was rewarded with a smacking sound and a pained yelp from the deceitful vampire. The children's giggles reached her ears as well, and she basked for a moment in relief that they all seemed to be okay, until she heard Spike's tone sharpen.

"What happened? Why are you all alone? Where's your Aunt Tara and your dad? And Frankie? Did something happen to your brother?"

"Aunt Tara was fighting the demon guy," Jesse began. He was cradling his sleeping baby brother gently in his arms.

"He hurt Daddy!" Danny squeaked.

"Frankie told us to find Aunt Amy," Joy said in a rush, not wanting to be left out.

"I want my mommy!" Savannah wailed.

"I did the don't get lost spell, all by myself," Jenny said proudly. Danny had left her side and was clinging to Spike's sleeve. Spike ruffled his hair absently.

"That little tinkerbell light was yours, munchkin?" Spike asked, feigning surprise. "I'm very impressed."

"Are you going to kick his ass, Uncle Spike?" Danny asked excitedly to Spike, who frowned.

"Don't say ass, Danny," Jenny corrected automatically.

"Is Daddy hurt real bad?" Ross asked softly.

"He's okay," Jesse said quickly. "Dad's tougher than that old demon, any day."

"That's right," Spike added. "You all are gonna have to stay here with your Aunt Amy and your new, er, her new baby."

"Can I see the baby?" Missy squealed.

"If you've seen one, you've seen them all," Ross offered sagely.

"Does this mean that he's not the babiest anymore?" Savannah wondered, temporarily distracted. She was pointing at her infant brother.

"Nah, he's still the babiest, cause this baby's not Daddy's," Jenny told her gently. Spike almost cracked up at the expressions on the younger children's faces, trying to get their brains around a child born in their vicinity without the infamous Harris genes. He gave a shrill whistle and they immediately turned quiet and attentive.

"I need you all to sit quietly while I go get the others. Jenny, think you can make one of those tinkerbell lights for old Uncle Spike to take him to your daddy?" The child beamed, red hair flying wildly with her enthusiastic nodding.

***************************

"So you can do the spell? And bring the other me back?" Xander asked. Tara had discovered the secrets of Menckar's time distortion spell. Reversing it seemed a relatively easy proposition, as it turned out. He had finally let go of Dawn’s still form, still reluctant to leave her now. Even though he knew that the demon was the one responsible for her condition, the guilt ate away at him. He tried to make sure she was comfortable, even though Tara told him she was so deep in her coma she didn’t feel anything anymore.

"Sure...whatever was keeping us from using magick here, it's gone now. If Amy's up to it, it should be pretty easy."

"Aren't we going home first?" Frankie asked, his voice quivering only a little, but reminding Xander how young the boy really was. Tara shook her head gently.

"Unless we restore the timeline, we haven't got a home to go back to. We only exist because this place is a wholly different dimension." Pondering what Tara had said, Xander found himself watching Frankie help Tara prepare the spell ingredients. He couldn’t help but marvel at the boy’s poise and patience. Especially considering the natures of his parents. *Probably why he‘s so patient. Keeping Cordy and me in line.* he thought ruefully.

"Then we can't ever go home?" Frankie asked. There was no hint of hysteria in the question.

"No, the spell I’m going to do should take care of it. It’s designed to simply undo all the consequences of the first spell, put everyone back exactly where and when and as they were. That‘s the best way I can describe it," Tara frowned.

"But...then we’re just going to do this all over again!" Xander said, the pieces falling into place. "Don't you see, Menckar just starts over and tries it again! Amy gets kidnapped, I get switched, you get kidnapped, the kids, the whole enchilada."

“Why do the same thing over and over again, if it doesn’t work?” Frankie asked.

“And how come we’ve never figured it out before?” Tara wondered.

"Good questions, both of them. Tara, I don’t know that we haven’t figured it out before, that’s the bad thing about the whole no memory bit. And as far as repeating himself, I think he must be doing something differently, every time. God only knows how many alternative realities he’s created. It’s like something out of a bad sci fi novel. The point is he’s still trying to get this right...and he wants me to know it. He was even bragging about trying again!”

“But he was trying to kill you!”

“If he had really been trying to kill me, I’d be dead. And how many minions would you estimate you’ve seen since you were captured?”

“Lots,” Frankie said.

“That’s what I thought. Spike and I ran into some when we got here, but since I got to this place? Four. I wonder how many times he’s failed and killed me. Or you. Or the kids. Don’t you see?”

“Do over,” Frankie said, his eyes wide. “We hit the reset button, and he gets a do-over!”

“Right!” Xander said proudly.

“But why does he want you to figure that out, Xander? Like you said, he was bragging about it. He leaves the spell just sitting here for us to find. He must think he knows what you’re going to do.”

“Right,” Xander said again, more subdued. Before any of them could say another word, a small light that looked something like a blue-tinged firefly entered the room. Frankie grinned.

“Jenny’s spell! They’re coming back here!”

“Not the whole lot of them, just me,” Spike called and Frankie ran to give him a hug.

“Uncle Spike! Is everybody okay?”

“Everybody’s tip top, including the new mother and child. Harris, if you ever leave me in a spot like that again, I’ll rip your entrails out through your nostrils.”

“Wonder how many times you haven’t made good on that one?” Xander mused. They brought the vampire up to speed as concisely as possible, then showed him Dawn. Spike kept a short vigil by her side, then came back to them, wiping away a stray tear. He was shaking badly from a range of emotions, mainly fury.

“What now, Harris?” he growled.

“I’m not sure,” Xander confessed. “I’m afraid to trust my instincts. What if I end up dooming us all?”

“What do your instincts tell you to do?” Tara asked. Xander shrugged.

“See if we can modify the spell...so that I can remember about Menckar. If we knew what was going to happen, we could stop it, right? No HVE, no demon, no kidnapping.” Spike shook his head grimly.

“Won’t work, mate. You don’t know everything, do you? Mostly you know what you’ve been told. And if there was a minion planted somewhere, to give you the wrong piece of info at that crucial moment.”

“You’re right. Like Wesley...Wesley was a minion.”

“Safe bet,” Spike snorted. “He gave you the sword and told you to cut the bastard’s head off. If you had...”

“Thank God for Willow,” Xander breathed. Tara smiled at him, her smile faltering when she saw the look on his face.

“Xander...is something wrong with Willow?” He took her hand in his and swallowed hard.

“We’re gonna fix everything, Tara. I promise you, this is all going to be some kind of pizza before bedtime dream, and Will‘s gonna be just fine.”

“How are you gonna fix it?”

“I’m thinking, son,” Xander said, using the term without giving it any thought. “I know it doesn’t look like it, but I really am.” Xander paced back and forth, wishing he was smarter. Like Giles or Buffy or Willow or...just about anybody else. He wasn’t meant to be the center of things like this, the hero on which everything depended. That was the Slayer’s job. He was supposed to fetch donuts, and do research, and make jokes. He looked up and saw that they were all staring at him, and that made things that much worse. He hadn’t felt this kind of pressure since high school graduation, which Buffy had told him everything depended on him...and inspiration struck.

Later, if he been able to remember that moment, he would have sworn sincerely the idea was his and his alone. Unlike the sword fight where he had felt like some force was helping him, this thought was so simple and perverse that it had to have come from his Xander brain. From the disbelieving expressions on the others’ faces, they shared that assessment. But there was no other idea. Not even another suggestion. So they gathered up the others, made the necessary preparations, took a little time to let Amy cry because she realized she’d gone through the whole childbirth thing for nothing, and then they were ready. Xander took a deep breath as the spell was cast, feeling the energy swirl around him...and he prayed he wasn‘t about to destroy the world with his stupid plan. He didn’t realize that the idea itself had been his answer.

***************************

“Finally,” Wesley breathed, smiling. “I don’t think I would have been able to go through this again.” The nurse gave him a puzzled look, but said nothing. Disorientation and head injuries kind of went hand in hand, after all. From what she’d heard this Wesley Wyndham-Price wasn’t all that together before he got hit in the head. The nurses’ lounge was all abuzz about him and his friends. It was ironic and tragic; the pretty redhead that had helped bring him in suffering an embolism in the waiting room and slipping into a coma. She couldn’t help shake her head when she thought of it.

Wesley had been depressed about Willow; now he had to force himself not to jump up and dance around the room. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this euphoric. Repeated crushing disappointment was what had made his sanity ebb away. But that was all over now. This time the boy had finally gotten it right. He laughed out loud, earning another of the nurse’s looks. Her expression changed abruptly from puzzled sympathy to alarm a second later.

It sounded like the room had suddenly turned into a wind tunnel. The nurse frantically went to the window, her only thought the possibility of tornados or some other natural disaster. Seeing clear skies and no hint of a breeze, she turned just in time to see something she would never be able to adequately describe. A large circle of strangely thickening air, semi-transparent, appeared in the air. Fear tasted metallic in her mouth as she backed up until she realized she was in the corner. She was so scared she couldn’t even scream, until her patient got out of bed and approached the strange apparition.

“Mr. Wyndham-Price! Don’t!” she screamed. The man turned towards her, smiling in gentle sympathy. He was already forgetting what had happened on this world. Before his wife’s death she taught him the most important trick to exploring different realities: don‘t try to keep things straight, just go with the flow. He had been forced to abandon that philosophy here; trying to keep straight what had worked and what hadn’t and when and so forth, and it had driven him more than a little mad. But now he could forget it all, let it go, go with the flow. His small smile widened into a Cheshire cat grin that would have scared the nurse if it were possible for her to be more terrified.

“It’s quite all right, I assure you. It’s just my wife. She’s come to pick me up. I trust I’m ready to be discharged?” The nurse simply nodded in mute disbelief. From this side of the portal Wesley could just her out: the shadow of her long hair and a splash of red that he knew was her favorite dress. It wasn’t really his Fred, of course; she had been lost long ago. He couldn’t quite remember where or when he had met this other Fred, the one who was waiting for him. She was Fred, in every way that mattered. That was more important.

The second he vanished everything was back to normal. Like a woman in a dream, the nurse walked to the door of the room and exited. No longer had she seen a man vanish into thin air, because Wesley Wyndham-Price had never been there at all.

***************************

December 9, 2000

The Scooby gang sat disconsolately in the waiting room. Buffy couldn’t help but remember how they had all been in the same place not so long ago, waiting for word on her mother. She prayed a prayer of gratitude that so far the news on Xander had been equally good.

She looked around at the others. Tara and Willow were talking quietly, Willow‘s eyes still red-rimmed from her tears. Dawn was starting to fidget the way she did when she was anxious. Giles was pacing and polishing his glasses repeatedly.

“I want to see him! Why can‘t we see him?” Dawn asked hotly. Giles cleared his throat.

“He’s only just regained consciousness, Dawn. You heard Ben. The less commotion around Xander right now, the better. Anya‘s with him now, as is only right.”

“But he’s gonna be all right, right?” Dawn asked, her tone letting Buffy know she was still scared. She reached out and squeezed her sister’s hand tight.

“Xander? He’s just fine now, but he got a bump on the head, and they want to keep him overnight. We’ll be able to see him shortly, and Anya can take him home in the morning. Everything’s gonna be fine, Dawnie, just you see.” Her sister searched her face, then sighed.

“Okay, if you say so. I guess this place just gives me the willies.”

“Right there with you, Dawnie,” Tara said. “Major heebie-jeebies here too.”

Buffy smiled to see Anya walking up. She could tell by the color in the girl’s cheeks that Xander was doing as well as they had been told. Buffy smiled for the first time since finding out her friend had been injured. *I can’t believe he got hit by a beam! Talk about cursed. Maybe he’s safer patrolling for vampires.*

***************************

October 31, 2011

Xander stepped out on the porch to get some late afternoon air, stopping short as he realized they had an unexpected guest. Unexpected but certainly not unwelcome, he thought with a smile.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Daddy,” she said, her tone teasing. Xander couldn’t help but grin at her.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Didn’t Anya tell you? I’m on trick-or-treat detail. Ready, willing, and chock full of protection spells.”

“I thought Lili drew the short straw.”

“She did, but I took pity on her. She’s got Jenny, Danny, Joy and Vanna, and I’ve got Frankie, Jesse, Missy and Ross.” Xander nodded. Somehow the two older boys had talked their mothers into letting them go as the Jesse James Gang. Although his wholly unbiased parental opinion was that they were the most adorable cowboy outlaws ever, especially Melissa, he couldn’t help having visions of a distant Halloween where costumes came to life. If his kids started robbing banks their mothers would have to deal with it, he decided.

“Sounds like you’ve got the better end of the deal,” he observed, grinning when she rolled her eyes at him.

“She’s a Slayer; she can handle it,” she retorted.

“Hey, what about the littlest Harris of all...at least until Tara pops out the next one.”

“Lex has got a bit of a cold, so Buffy wants to keep him in,” she answered, laughing at Xander’s wincing.

“See? This is why I never wanted anyone using my first name for these kids. Now Buffy’s gone and nicknamed him after Superman’s arch-nemesis.” Strangely he found himself staring at her now. A blush creeped across her face at his sudden attention.

“What?” she said in an annoyed tone, trying to cover up her embarrassment.

“Just remembering when you used to wear a costume...you made a cute kitty-cat when you were younger,” he teased. She rolled her eyes again.

“I was never that young,” she said, but he could tell the thought pleased her. After a moment she looked pensive.

“Do you ever think about what happened?” It was an open question, but he knew exactly what she was talking about.

“All the time,” he admitted.

“Me, too. I mean, it changed everything, didn’t it? I hated what happened, but I can’t stand to think what could have happened if...”

“I know what happened was bad for you, hon. But Menckar‘s dead. And you were the one who did it, Dawn. You’re a hero.”

“Thank goodness I got so obsessive about learning about what being the Key really meant. I know Buffy was worried when I spent so much time and energy in research, but it really did pay off.”

“I just wish we could have saved him too,” Xander said, thinking of Dawn’s dead fiance. She nodded, sighing.

“Me, too. But I guess that wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. Do you believe in fate, Xander? That there are things we just cannot change?”

He considered the thought for a moment. He actually thought he might have something to say on the subject, like some great truth was lying just beyond his grasp. Finally he shrugged.

“Beats me.”

***************************