I own nothing. Sigh.
She's Back, And It's About Time -- Part III
“Hello, Anne,” Jenny smiled. “Rupert told me all about what happened. How are you feeling? Those time travel spells can really knock you around.”
“Better. . . thanks,” Anne said dazedly. Xander helped her to a seat. She shook herself. “But – but this is wrong. You’re not supposed to be here.”
Giles placed a protective arm around Jenny’s shoulders. “What do you mean?”
Anne tensed, only too aware of the impact of her next words. “Miss Calendar – back at the battle with Angelus – Miss Calendar didn’t, um, survive.”
The room erupted. Giles shouted, “What?!”
Buffy swore and moved instinctively in front of Jenny.
Willow and Tara gasped.
Xander said “What the hell do you mean?”
“I’m sorry,” Anne raised a hand placatingly. “I don’t mean to upset you. It’s freaking me out, too.” Giles folded his arms, staring at her angrily. “I thought – we thought – I was coming back here to fix something wrong in this time. But I’m too late. *This* is wrong.”
Xander frowned. “So you think Miss Calendar – Jenny – is the reason why your future is so bad?”
Anne shifted uneasily. “I’m not sure. I know she’s not supposed to be here. I’m not sure why I don’t remember this. But the spell was created specifically to send me to a time when something went wrong. There must be something significant now, too. But I think I’ll have to go back to 1998 to fix it all.”
“Fix it all?” Giles said sharply. “You mean kill – kill Jenny?” Willow’s eyes were huge.
Anne flinched. “I’m not sure. I’m so sorry. It’s hard to say, exactly. But it’s not like we all have wonderful lives, if I leave this timeline as it is. I’ve seen the future, Giles, and it’s horrific.”
Giles took a deep breath. He said reluctantly, “So you’d sacrifice her to save yourself?”
“Rupert!” Jenny exclaimed. “That was too harsh.”
“It’s all right,” Anne said softly. “I don’t – I’m not – I can’t say what I’ll do when it comes down to it. But this timeline is unstable. It won’t survive. We’ll *all* die if it can’t be fixed.”
“I. . . see,” Giles said slowly. “I think I understand. It’s not your fault, of course, I just wish-”
Jenny kissed him on the cheek, then sat down next to Anne. “We’ll figure it out, Anne.” She bit her lip. “Why don’t you tell us what happened to me? How I – died?”
Anne nodded. [Man, I’m getting sick of explaining deaths,] she thought wryly. She told them reluctantly about the battle with Angelus. About Jenny translating the spell to restore his soul.
And how it had led to her death.
“Willow found the translation and performed the spell,” she concluded. “But it was too late. I had to send Angel to Hell.”
“You mean he changed back?” Buffy had a hand on her heart. “He changed back and you still had to send him to Hell?”
“Yeah,” Anne looked down. “Not one of my proudest moments. Hey, so he didn’t change back, here?”
“No,” Buffy shook her head slowly, still horrified at the thought. “Miss Calendar’s computer crashed before she could complete the spell. I sacrificed *Angelus* to Acathla’s vortex, which was hard enough. Angelus returned to Sunnydale a couple of years ago. We changed him back then.” She put her arm around Willow.
Anne blinked. “Weren’t you in front of Miss Calendar?” The others gave her concerned looks. “Never mind.” [That was strange.]
Buffy continued, “We lost a few people.”
“Oz,” Willow said softly. “He killed Oz.”
“Oh, Will, I’m so sorry!” Anne leapt up and gave her a hug. “This is getting confusing. Tara said something about memories. That I wouldn’t remember all the differences, even though they happened in my past. I wish I could think of exactly what she said.”
Tara raised her eyebrows. “So, Anne, y-you don’t remember any of this? You don’t remember sending Angelus to Hell, not Angel?”
Anne shrugged. “No.”
Xander continued, “And you don’t remember this discussion? Back when you,” he pointed at Anne, “were her?” he pointed at Buffy.
“Not a thing.”
He shook his head. “Weird.”
The phone rang. Xander picked it up. “Hello. . . Anya?. . . You’re kidding. . . Where?. . . Okay. Bye.” He hung up. “Vampire gang,” he said. “Heading this way.”
“Typical,” Willow snorted.
“And this is a biggie. A whole heap of vamps – at least thirty. Anya’s bringing some holy water.”
“We’d better prepare.” Buffy stood, resolute.
Anne put out a hand. “What year is it? 2000, isn’t it?”
“2001,” Xander answered. “May.”
“May 2001,” Anne said slowly. “Oh, no. I think I know what’s going to happen. There’s something I should probably tell you.”
****
Anne grabbed Giles’ shoulder. “Are you sure you should?”
“We don’t have much choice. Not enough people,” he said shortly. “And if the problem is earlier in the timeline anyway, what does it matter? It makes no difference if it all has to be changed anyway.”
“But you don’t have to go through this,” Anne stressed, eyes intent on his.
He softened. “Yes, I do, Anne. It’s what I do. It’s what we all do.”
Giles, Willow, Buffy, Anne, and Xander left Giles’ apartment cautiously. The non-combatants stayed inside. Safe enough – for now.
Twenty vampires stood around the courtyard, with a few terrified humans. The vamps were laughing, joking. Feeding. A scream sounded, but was abruptly cut off.
One vampire sauntered over. A large man with red hair and dark eyes. Willow blinked. For a second, he looked like a tiny Asian woman with a long black ponytail – no. Her eyes must’ve been playing tricks.
The vampire snarled. “Finally. It took you long enough to show up.”
“Enough with the witty commentary,” Anne said tightly. “We have things to do.” She launched into a flying kick at the lead vampire, and it was on.
Xander ran towards a group of vampires, shouting. Completely unused to the full-frontal approach from ‘food’, they scattered, then collected themselves. Willow staked a tall blond vamp. Xander dropped under a roundhouse kick from a large redhaired woman and rolled smoothly back to his feet, staked her, then received a punch to the gut which made him double over, retching. Willow dragged him off to one side to recover.
Buffy found herself exchanging blows with a slender black woman, about her age and height, with a large Afro. She took a quick, instinctive look at Giles – [Good, he’s doing okay] –somersaulted over a kick, thrust her foot backwards at the woman’s solar plexus, then found herself striking a middle-aged black man at least two inches shorter.
More vamps came out of nowhere. Willow screamed as a burly woman grabbed her from behind, wrestling her to the ground. She struggled.
Xander shoved his crucifix in the woman’s face. She backed off, hissing, but then Xander was kicked in the side by a broad-shouldered man with black hair. He cried out. The man leaped on him and snarled, breath hot in his face. Xander gulped. He brutally pushed the heel of his hand into the vamp’s nose, granting him a moment’s respite. The woman had her arm around Willow’s throat. He called desperately, “Anne!”
Anne spun, seeing the scene in slow motion. Xander down. Willow about to be dragged off. “Willow,” she breathed. She started to work her way over, moving with agonizing slowness, heaving vampire after vampire out of the way.
Time sped up again as she reached Willow, who was fighting weakly, almost unconscious. Anne viciously kicked the vamp in the face, throwing her off Willow, then followed that up with a flurry of kicks and punches.
Willow rose, gasping and rubbing her throat. When she had her breath back, she observed, “I think she’s ready for staking, Buffy.”
Anne shook herself, then plunged the stake into the vamp. She caught Willow up in a hug. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t stop her in my timeline.”
“Oh,” Willow said, mystified, then, “Ohhhh,” as she got it. Anne pushed her aside with an apologetic look, diving for another vamp.
The front door opened. Tara and Jenny came out, exchanging nervous glances. “Get back inside!” Willow hissed, horrified.
“I couldn’t stay in there without you,” Tara whispered. “It’s all right.” She muttered over her closed fist, then motioned towards the nearest vamp. A greenish powder flew out, enveloping the vamp. He fell to the ground, coughing. “It won’t last for long, but it should help.”
Jenny was white. “I have to help.” She threw powder on another vamp. The two witches moved cautiously through the crowd.
Until it happened.
Jenny threw powder on a petite woman sneaking up behind Giles. She fell to the floor, but managed to sweep Jenny’s legs out from under her on the way down. There was a loud –CRACK!- as Jenny’s head hit the pavement, then another vamp was on her, baring her throat and feeding. Giles spun. He stared at Jenny’s body, stricken.
The other vampires stopped their attacks and watched avidly.
The middle-aged black vamp and the large red-haired vamp took his arms. They exchanged glances with each other, then Giles seemed to blur. He was Giles, then he was the petite Asian woman, then he was the strong black woman, then he was Giles again.
The vampires bit into him simultaneously. Giles gasped, then his eyes rolled back in his head. He fell to the ground.
“Giles!” Buffy screamed.
“ANYA!” Xander screamed. He could see her lying, unmoving, on the far side of the courtyard.
He tried to go to her, but Anne grabbed him by the shoulders. “Too dangerous,” she said tautly, eyes wet. Two vamps nearby turned and growled at them in warning.
They could only watch as Giles writhed on the ground. The two vampires with him snarled their satisfaction. Giles rose. His features transformed; forehead wrinkled, eyes grew yellow, and his teeth lengthened. “Oh, Goddess,” Willow breathed, backing away.
Giles and the two leaders laughed. They turned abruptly and stalked out of the courtyard. The others flowed behind them.
All except one. A dark-haired figure knelt over Anya.
Xander clenched his fists, knowing in his gut that he was too late. He ran over and launched a fist at the other man’s jaw. The man fell back, stunned, then seized his hands before he could strike again. “It’s me!” he yelled. “It’s you – it’s us. Xander. She’s all right! Don’t you understand? She’s all right! She helped a couple of people escape. She got hit on the head. She’s just dazed.”
Xander stared at the man – at himself. The older Xander was unshaven, with lines of grey shot through his hair. “Wow,” he muttered softly. Then he looked down at Anya, who was rubbing her head. “Wow,” he repeated, smiling. He knelt down and embraced her, then helped her up.
The other Xander was also staring. At Willow. His eyes were bright. He walked over to her and took her hand. “I missed you,” he told her confidingly, as the tears started to spill out. Then he held her close.
Buffy blinked. “Well, this is all very nice, and Anya, I’m glad you’re okay, but what the hell just happened?”
The older Xander’s face became solemn. “I found out where you have to be, Buffy,” he said to Anne. He blinked, eyes crossing, then wobbled. Anne helped him sit down.
“Call me ‘Anne’,” she advised. “It saves on confusion. And if you’re gonna say I should be back three years – I already know. Unfortunately.” She sighed.
“Okay, Anne,” he said sadly. “I’m glad I got here to help An,” he glanced at Willow, clearly not saying ‘and to see you’, “but I wish I’d been in time to help Giles.”
“Tell me about it,” Anne commiserated. “Are you all right?”
“I’ll be okay,” he assured her. “The timeline’s breaking down. You and I are more affected because we come from further along. Further after it all got screwed.”
Anne nodded slowly. “I felt sick too – I thought it was just from the spell.”
“Tara said we’ll notice all sorts of weirdness. Time lags and other things.”
“So what the hell do we do next?” Buffy asked, exasperated.
“We have to talk about that,” said the older Xander. He grinned tiredly. “Just don’t call me ‘Lavelle’.”
