Chapter 3: October 2014
Hannah was staring at the menu, finding it impossible to choose. All her options were kind of expensive, and she was long used to counting pennies. Her typical restaurant was usually McDonald’s, and confined to the dollar menu at that.
Her hands were suddenly empty as Connor plucked it out of her fingers. “Do you want a burger or a steak?”
Hannah only had to think for a second. “A burger. Bacon cheeseburger.”
Connor looked at their waitress, who was obviously getting a little impatient. “Two bacon cheeseburgers with fries then.”
“I’ll have the steak salad,” Dawn said, refraining from rolling her eyes. She well remembered the days when she could eat anything and not gain an ounce. That had definitely changed. Exchanging a look with her husband, Dawn met Hannah’s eyes. “There’s something we needed to talk with you about.”
Hannah hated it when grownups used that tone. It never boded well. “About what?” she asked warily.
“About you being stronger than most girls,” Connor replied. “Stronger than most people.”
Her first instinct was to deny all knowledge. Hannah had no experience with the phenomenon of understanding adults. Except that they couldn’t have known; she hadn’t told anybody, and so if they did know… “How—”
“My sister’s like you,” Dawn said quietly. “She’s strong and fast and really good with pointy objects. That’s one of the reasons Connor and I were asked to pick you up. We’re supposed to try and explain what’s happening to you.”
Hannah frowned. “So what am I?”
“You’re the Slayer.” Connor sighed. “Well, you’re a Slayer. There are two of them.”
“And I’m one of them,” Hannah said flatly. “The other one’s your sister?” she asked, looking at Dawn.”
“Right.”
Hannah knew there was something she was missing. “So why me and why now? If there’s always been more than one—”
“Not always,” Dawn quickly said. “Recently, there have been two, though.”
“So why now?” Hannah pressed. “I mean, this was just a couple days ago that I changed or whatever. How did you find me?”
“There’s a Council, which is kind of hard to explain,” Dawn said, stalling for time. She didn’t want to explain how a Slayer became a Slayer. It always seemed to come up relatively early in the conversation, however. “Wesley can tell you more about it. He’s the guy that’s kind of in charge of you. They call them Watchers.”
Hannah made a face. “Sounds icky.”
“Not that kind of watcher,” Connor assured her. “Wesley’s a good guy, and you’ll love his wife. She’s the best.”
“But why now?” Hannah insisted. “Why was it that one minute I could only do a full somersault and the next minute I was doing a triple?” At their blank looks, she explained, “Diving.” Then, sensing she wasn’t asking quite the right question, Hannah asked, “What happened?”
“The next Slayer is Chosen when one Slayer dies,” Dawn explained quietly. “My sister died briefly, and another Slayer was Chosen, even though Buffy came back. After that, there were two Slayers.”
Hannah was beginning to get the picture. “So this other Slayer died, and now I’m it? How’d it happen?”
“Well, that’s kind of a long story,” Dawn said weakly.
Connor shook his head. “Not that long. Trust us, Hannah. We’ve both been where you are right now. We’ll explain everything we can, and we’ll answer all your questions. I can promise you this much, Dawn and I will be as honest as we can be with you.”
For some reason, Hannah believed him. “Am I gonna die?”
“Not if we can help it,” Connor replied.
It was just a good thing that there were a lot more people these days that were committed to keeping the Slayer alive.
~~~~~
Buffy finished putting the weapons together. The plan was to head out the following night with at least Connor in tow. The Slayer was considering asking Angel to come along, but she wasn’t sure that Spike would go for that idea. They got along much better these days, but Buffy didn’t think they’d ever be best friends.
She knew he was behind her. “Did you get Meg tucked in?”
“Yeah. She wanted a couple of stories tonight.”
Meg only asked for two stories when she was scared of going to sleep and that usually only happened when she was worried. They both knew what had brought that on. “I can’t believe she listened in on your conversation.”
Spike winced, knowing that what Buffy really meant was that she couldn’t believe he hadn’t stopped her. “I didn’t know she was still on the line.”
“I know.” There was still a sharpness in her tone. “I’m not angry at you.”
She was angry, however, and Spike knew it. Buffy would only allow herself to grieve for so long before sadness was transformed into anger. It was one of her most effective weapons. “That right?”
“This is different, Spike.” Buffy sighed. “I know what we agreed, but we didn’t know that this situation would come up.”
“No, we didn’t.” The decision had been made a couple years previously when they had both been asked to help stop a demon uprising in Uzbekistan . They had both been badly injured, and it was by luck and stubbornness alone that either of them survived. That incident had spawned Meg’s fears that her parents wouldn’t return from one of their trips. It also caused them to rethink their travel policy. “Who’s goin’ to stay with Meg?”
Buffy turned back to her suitcase, straightening things unnecessarily. “I thought I would call Xander since Wes and Nika are going to be busy with the new Slayer. Willow said she’d contact Wren, but she’s planning on coming.”
“Meg’ll like that,” Spike commented. “Don’t know why, but she’s pretty enamored of Harris.”
She smiled at the old joke. Spike and Xander’s truce had actually extended into friendship. They still pretended to hate each other, but their sharp words held no malice these days. “She will. Do you know when Giles said he’d call?”
“Just later,” Spike replied. “I imagine he’s got his hands full dealin’ with Wesley an’ the new one.” Normally he would have suggested they go to bed—although not to sleep. It didn’t seem appropriate right now. “You want me to call Connor?”
Buffy shook her head. “Tomorrow’s soon enough. He’s probably still with the new Slayer and Dawn.”
A silence fell as thick as molasses. Spike turned away. “I’m a bit peckish.”
Buffy didn’t ask him to stay, although she wanted to. There was a part of her that knew Spike was right. It was selfish for her to insist on going after this vampire. Perhaps it would be better if she stayed in L.A. , but that wasn’t what a Slayer did.
It wasn’t that she never dusted a vampire anymore. Both she and Spike worked on a regular basis. Neither of them ever lacked for work, and the money was pretty good. They would never be rich, but things were good. Jobs like this, however—where the chances were high that one or both could be badly injured or killed—one of them passed on it.
Even though both of them preferred going into battle together, Meg always came first.
This was different.
Buffy spotted the package in the corner that she’d brought home, having forgotten it in the midst of the crisis. There wouldn’t be time to put her plan in motion now. She was angry, but she still wanted him—wanted to feel alive, to be reminded of his love for her. Buffy hated to think that they’d go into a fight with this rift between them.
Her bare feet made no sound as she padded down to the kitchen. Spike stood at the sink, looking out into the postage-stamp sized backyard. He didn’t turn, even though Buffy knew he was aware of her presence.
“I know you have to do this,” Spike said suddenly, his words breaking up the silence. “I know the next few years are gonna be dangerous until the new Slayer is trained. I also know ‘m not goin’ to let anythin’ happen to you.”
“Spike—”
“You’re the Slayer,” he said softly. “‘s what you’ll always be. I knew that when I fell in love with you.”
Buffy sighed. “I know. I’m sorry, Spike.”
She didn’t know what she was apologizing for—the fact that she was the Slayer, or for putting her life on the line again and again. He was at a disadvantage, Buffy knew. Spike had watched her die and then had lived without her. The vampire knew exactly what losing her would feel like. Buffy could only imagine, and even though her imagination was pretty good, she could still harbor the illusion that Spike was invincible and would live forever.
In reality, while he wasn’t invincible, Spike just might live forever. Buffy had no idea how much that idea frightened him these days.
“I never asked you to change,” he was saying. “Just to be cautious.”
“I know,” she repeated. They had been married for eight years now, had known each other for a lot longer than that, and there were still times when the words escaped her.
Spike turned slowly, the moonlight playing against alabaster skin. He was still as youthful looking as he had been when she first saw him over fifteen years before. Sometimes Buffy didn’t know quite how to feel about that when she saw the changes that childbearing had wrought—when she discovered her first gray hair.
He was so beautiful, though, that Buffy couldn’t help but feel proud that he was hers.
The silence hung between them. “Do we have to talk about this?”
Spike frowned. “What?”
“Can you just—can we just pretend this never happened?” Buffy asked. “Tomorrow we’ll have to deal with Giles and travel arrangements and real life. Can tonight just be about us?”
His face softened. Spike wanted to hash it out, but he understood what his wife was saying. Tonight she needed to feel him—to remember that she was alive and he was there, even if his heart no longer beat.
Tonight was about life. Tomorrow was soon enough to deal in death again.
~~~~~
The twins were much easier to convince than anyone had supposed. Will accepted the news that there would be a new Slayer living with them with perfect grace. Davey asked a dozen questions in rapid-fire mode.
Sometimes Nika wondered if Will let his twin take the lead because it was easier. That way, they both got whatever information their parents were willing to share, and Davey got reprimanded for asking too many questions.
Tonight, however, Giles and Wesley fielded whatever the boys threw at them. “Is she going to be like Aunt Buffy?” Davey asked finally.
“Like Buffy how?” Giles asked carefully.
“Is she going to have to fight the bad guys all the time?” Davey asked, his brow furrowing.
Will followed that question up with, “Is she going to die?”
The room grew terribly still. “We’re not going to allow that to happen,” Wesley finally replied. It wasn’t a very good answer and he knew it. It was, however, the best he could do. “I think it’s time for bed.”
The protests were immediate and loud. “We’re not tired!” Davey said.
Will nodded. “We want to meet the new Slayer.”
“Tomorrow morning is soon enough for that,” Enid said, stepping in. “The poor girl’s going to be overwhelmed as it is without you two monkeys pestering her. To bed now.”
They protested a bit more as the older woman herded them towards their room, but Nain ‘s word was law, and they did as they were told.
Nika sighed, thankful for her help. Enid ‘s presence had often been the only thing standing between them and insanity. Having her nainthere made it easier for her to maintain her relationship with Wesley. “This is going to be a difficult adjustment,” she murmured, leaning into her husband.
He rubbed his eyes behind his glasses. “I dare say you’re right, love,” he replied. Wesley glanced over at her with a wry look. “Now we know why you’re pregnant. It’s always at the most interesting times.”
Nika laughed. “Isn’t that the truth?”
Giles took a deep breath. “I really am sorry for this,” he said. “I know that this is a time of adjustment for you.”
“No more so than any other time,” Nika assured him. “We’re used to dealing with adjustments.”
“Still,” Giles trailed off. He knew that the couple had planned on more children, but a series of miscarriages had taken a toll on their plans. This pregnancy looked as though it would come to term, but a new Slayer and an emergency was a lot to throw at them right now. Giles was just grateful that he didn’t have to toss Wesley and the new Slayer at the apocalypse. It was the benefit of the new system he’d helped to set up that they actually had time to train the new Slayer before she would be required to help with an emergency of this magnitude.
The soft knock on the front door had Nika rising. “I’ll get it.”
Dawn gave Nika a quick hug as she entered, heading immediately over to Giles to embrace him as well. She had not yet gotten a chance to mourn Faith, and she knew that both he and Wesley would be feeling the loss, although for different reasons.
Hannah entered the house, looking wary, with Connor close behind her. “Nika.”
“Connor, it’s good to see you,” she said, giving him a hug. She smiled at the girl. “And this must be Hannah.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Nika. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Hannah said politely, shaking her hand.
The introductions were made quickly, and then were completed when Enid appeared. “Did you explain?” Giles asked.
“The basics,” Connor replied. “Hannah has a pretty good idea of what’s going on, I think.”
Hannah nodded shyly, unused to being around so many adults at once, all of whom were looking at her with various expressions of concern.
“Well, you’re probably exhausted,” Nika said, standing slowly. “I’m sure you probably want to know where your room is going to be.” She shot Giles a look that said plainly he was not to interfere.
“Okay,” Hannah said, glad to get out from under all those eyes.
“We can talk more in the morning, Hannah,” Wesley said kindly.
She nodded, quickly following Nika. “You’ll meet our sons tomorrow,” Nika said as they walked down the hallway. “They were very excited to hear that you were coming to stay.”
“That’s cool,” Hannah said quietly. She stood in the doorway of the room, watching as Nika flipped on the lights and straightened the pillows on the bed.
“We’ll have to talk about how you want to decorate,” Nika said. “If you want to paint, or anything like that.” She straightened and looked over at the girl. “I want you to feel at home here, Hannah. I know it will be an adjustment, but I hope you’ll like living with us.”
“Thanks,” she replied. Hannah wasn’t sure what else to say. Now that she knew why it would be Wesley and Nika she was living with, she was wondering if they really wanted her here or if she was just a job to them.
Nika, reading the hesitation for what it really was, came over and gave Hannah a hug, feeling her first stiffen and then grab on for all she was worth. “We want you here, cariad ,” she whispered. “This isn’t easy, but at least know that you are welcome.”
Hannah stood in the middle of the room long after Nika had gone, the place where her lips had brushed her forehead burning. It seemed too much. In one day she had found out that she was some sort of superhero, that she had a new home, and that she was going to die.
She didn’t quite know what to think.
~~~~~
They spoke no words because there was nothing to say. There was only the old dance of lips and tongues, hands on skin. They knew every inch of skin from long practice and hours of exploration. Years might have changed the maps slightly, but the territory was well-known and well-loved.
They made love as an affirmation of life. It was new and old, both real and surreal. Existence was too brief to waste it on petty concerns and fights. They might each die on the morrow; they had lost one of their own.
It was enough to speak words into the darkness.
“I love you.”