Summary: Set post-Chosen. After the Slayers are activated, the balance between good and evil is disturbed, and the Scoobies are flung to the far corners of the world to respond to the crisis. In the midst of all of this, will they be able to keep their relationships strong? Or will they be divided by circumstances and torn apart by fate? Follows my short story Yesterday.
Author's Notes: Remember how things went after Chosen? Well, forget about all of that, and ignore the comics. This is my version. This series is comprised of Latter Days, Faithfully Dangerous, and Now and Always, and the entire series will be known by the third title. You’ll see why. (And although some of the locations mentioned in this fic exist, this is my world, which means that I’m twisting reality to my own ends.)
“What a beautiful piece of heartache/This has all turned out to be/Lord knows we've learned the hard way/All about healthy apathy…There is a me you would not recognize, dear/Call it the shadow of myself/And if the music starts before I get there/Dance without me, you dance so gracefully/I really think I'll be okay/They've taken a toll, these latter days/Nothing like sleeping on a bed of nails/Nothing much here but our broken dream/Oh, but baby, if all else fails/Nothing is ever quite what it seems…” ~Over the Rhine, “Latter Days”
Rating: PG-13
1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7 :: 8 :: 9 :: 10 :: 11 :: 12 :: 13 :: 14 :: 15 :: 16 :: 17 :: 18 :: 19 :: 20 :: 21 :: 22 :: 23 :: 24 :: 25 :: 26 :: 27 :: 28 :: 29 :: 30 :: 31 :: 32 :: 33 :: 34 :: 35 ::
“…The doctors are finally answering our questions when we ask about Zoë, so it looks like she’s going to pull through. Arnold is doing a lot better. He’s still moving pretty stiffly, but he’s insisting on helping out with training the girls. As badly hurt as they are, though, it’s going to be another couple of weeks before I can leave. Be careful, Spike. And try not to annoy Xander too much, okay?” ~Excerpt from an email from Buffy Summers to Spike
Willow entered Zoë’s room after a brief knock on the door. “How are you feeling?”
The other woman was silent for a moment before finally responding. “Fine. Really. It will be good to get out of here.”
“I’m sure it will.” She sat down next to the bed. “The doctors told me that you’re healing really well.” Willow meant it as an encouragement, but Zoë’s fragile control over her emotions broke, and she turned her face away again. “Oh, Zoë.”
“Don’t,” she choked out. “Just—don’t.”
“Arnold said that you won’t let him see you.”
“How can I?” Zoë faced Willow again, struggling to sit up in bed. “Look at me!”
The bright red scar that ran down the side of her neck and under her hospital gown was all too visible against Zoë’s pale skin. The demon’s claws had sliced her open from neck to navel, and the subsequent fall had resulted in torn tendons in her shoulder and elbow. The doctors weren’t terribly optimistic about her getting mobility back in her right arm any time soon.
“You’re lucky,” Willow said gently. “You almost didn’t survive.”
“Maybe it would have been better if I hadn’t.”
Willow could understand why the other woman would feel that way, but they didn’t have time for despondency. It sucked, but that was the truth. “We need every Watcher we have, and that includes you. You don’t have time for self-pity.”
Zoë stared at her, an expression of betrayal on her face. “That isn’t fair, Willow.”
“No, it’s not,” she agreed. “But that’s life for you, and life pretty much sucks. So, are you ready to leave?”
Zoë was silent for a moment, her lips compressed tightly. “Yes.”
“Good.” Willow summoned a smile. “Arnold is waiting for us outside.” She marched out, seeing the other Watcher in the hallway.
“How is she?” Arnold asked anxiously.
“She’s pissed off,” Willow replied honestly. “And she’s feeling pretty useless.”
Arnold frowned. “Do you think she’ll talk to me?”
“She’s not upset with you,” Willow said quickly, “more at the circumstances.”
“Is that why she won’t talk to me?”
“She was pretty badly injured. It’s going to leave a scar.”
Arnold was clearly incredulous. “She can’t think I care about that!”
Willow just smiled. “Arnold, she’s a girl, which means that she can think exactly that. It’s just fear, but I’ll tell you what you can do about it.”
~~~~~
Zoë cursed as she tried to button her shirt one-handed. Although she wouldn’t have been able to pull a shirt on over her head, she seemed to be having a great deal of trouble working the buttons as well.
“Fuck,” she muttered as tears sprang to her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to be a burden, but that seemed to be exactly what she’d become.
“Zoë?” Arnold’s gentle voice broke through her self-recriminations. “May I help?”
“I’ve got it,” she replied, trying to keep the sound of tears out of her voice, knowing that she was unsuccessful.
“Zoë.” His hands came down over hers, but she focused on the cane he’d left leaning against her bed. “Let me.”
Nimble fingers worked the buttons through their corresponding holes, brushing against bare skin a couple of times. “Why wouldn’t you let me in?”
She brought one hand up to cover his. “I was worried you wouldn’t—”
Arnold ran a finger along the skin next to her wound. “Haven’t you heard that scars are sexy?”
“And useless arms?”
“A badge of courage,” Arnold assured her. “It won’t always be useless.”
“You haven’t heard the doctors.”
“What do they know about you or Watchers? We’re tougher than they know. We have to survive everything—apocalypses, the deaths of Slayers, the loneliness. You don’t have to be lonely, Zoë, not when I’m right here.”
She smiled through her tears. “I didn’t know you were a poet.”
“I’m not. I’ve just had a very long time to think of what I wanted to say to convince you to give me a second chance,” Arnold replied.
“Oh.” She buried her face in his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He stroked her hair. “I believe I’m falling in love with you, Zoë Michelson.”
“Then that makes two of us.” Her voice trembled, and she knew that she didn’t sound all that certain, but in this case her voice did not echo her feelings. The truth was that the fear that he would not want her had completely overwhelmed her ability to think.
And now she was overwhelmed by another feeling entirely as relief swamped her.
“Let’s go home, love.” Arnold placed a kiss on her forehead. “Your Slayers are waiting for you.”
~~~~~
Buffy knew that she should be working with the younger Slayers, or helping to clean up, or any number of things that needed to be finished eventually.
Eventually—there was time. Too much of it, really, although Buffy knew that even if she was free to return to Bath tomorrow, Spike would not be waiting for her.
“Did you hear from him?”
She looked over at Willow standing in the doorway. “He said that things aren’t looking very good. There are too many demons on the other side, and not enough on theirs.”
Her friend took the seat next to her. “You know Spike, Buffy. King of the losing side. If anyone can pull this thing off, it’s him—and Xander.”
Buffy took a deep breath. “Right. You’re right. He’d be really pissed off at me for moping.”
“I’ll bet he misses you just as much.”
“I get the feeling that he’s better at it than I am,” Buffy replied.
Willow leaned forward in her chair. “I don’t think I understand.”
“He never really had me. I was always keeping him at arm’s length, so he’s used to it, to not being with me.”
“If you always kept him at arm’s length, isn’t that true of you, too?” Willow asked with impeccable logic.
Buffy shook her head. She’d been thinking about this a lot since coming to Brazil; the pain of missing Spike had been a cold, hard stone in her gut, even though she knew he was alive and well, albeit on the other side of the world. “I always knew he’d be there.”
Willow pulled her into a hug. “What are you really worried about, Buffy?”
“That one of these missions, he won’t come back.” Buffy took a deep breath. “Still, it’s good to be here. I’ve missed you.”
“Me, too.” Willow pulled her to her feet. “Zoë’s back. She seems to be doing better.”
“Did she finally talk to Arnold?”
The redhead nodded. “They’re so cute, it’s disgusting.”
A smile curved Buffy’s lips. “I have to admit I love a happy ending.”
Willow hesitated. “I need to ask you for a favor, though.”
“You want me to stay.”
“Only for a while,” Willow assured her. “It’s just that I don’t know much about training Slayers, and Giles just informed us that there’s another one in the area. I’m sending Rhoda and one of the others, but until Zoë and Arnold are up to traveling, or training—”
“You need me.” Buffy took a deep breath, trying to ignore the flare of panic, the certainty that the longer she stayed here, the less chance there was of seeing Spike again.
That was stupid. He would be the first to tell her that she couldn’t know the future, that there was every chance that they would both pull through—or that she would be the one killed. It had happened twice before, after all.
“How long are you thinking?” she asked with a forced smile.
Willow shook her head. “It depends on Zoë’s recovery, since she’s usually the one who retrieves the Slayers we locate.”
Buffy nodded. “I’m here for the long haul, then.”
And as good as it was to be with her friend again, Buffy couldn’t help but wish to be in Africa.
~~~~~
Oz hadn’t been sure what he was going to do in Brazil, other than whatever Willow asked him to. Then again, that’s pretty much what he’d been doing in Sunnydale, too, although he’d had a band. He had been ready to have a purpose again, though, ready to do something other than drift.
It turned out that there was plenty to do, however. Someone had to run errands, round up Slayers, make sure that they reached their destinations safely, and a dozen other small tasks that the Watchers shared between them.
Oddly enough, Oz included himself in that appellation. He’d somehow become a Watcher; it wasn’t something he’d planned.
“Oz? Would you mind going out with Buffy tonight?” Willow asked. “I think I’m going to stick around here.”
“Is there something going on?”
“Not really. I just wanted a chance to catch up on some emails.”
He rose from his position on the floor. One of the Slayers had found a mouse earlier, and he’d been trying to close up all the holes where they might be getting in. It had rather amused him that the same Slayer could face vampires and demons without fear, but a mouse caused her to shriek and run for the nearest chair.
Of course, then Buffy had sworn him to secrecy.
“How long is Buffy staying?”
Willow glanced out the door to check to see if the coast was clear, then closed it. “I don’t know, but I’ve asked her to stay a little longer.”
“Is this about what Miriam asked you to do?”
She nodded. “I have no idea how I’m supposed to take care of that if Buffy isn’t here.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t worry about it,” Oz suggested. “You have no idea when it’s supposed to happen.”
“Don’t remind me,” Willow groaned.
Oz pulled her into a hug, knowing that it was about the only way to stop her from worrying herself to death.
“We do need her, though,” Willow continued. “Zoë and Arnold aren’t ready for travel yet, and there’s no way they can do any training right now. I mean, Arnold is trying, but I’m afraid that he’s going to tear his stitches, and—”
Clearly, a simple hug was not going to do it. Oz stopped her mouth with a kiss, deepening it when she responded. He didn’t want to go out with the Slayers later; he had no desire to let her go.
“You worry too much,” he murmured when they finally broke off the kiss.
“I know.” She leaned her forehead on his. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
A brief knock on the door was immediately followed by Rhoda poking her head in. “We’re off. Oz, are you coming?”
“I’ll be right there,” he promised. Looking at Willow, he murmured, “We’ll have to finish this later.”
“I’ll be waiting for you.”
It was the only promise he needed from her.
~~~~~
Buffy saw the demon coming at Oz from the alley, and she called out a warning. She had no idea where he’d learned to fight, but he moved quickly, dropping to one knee and sending a crossbow bolt into its throat.
“Thanks,” he called over his shoulder.
“No problem.”
“Buffy!” Rute’s voice held a note of panic, and Buffy started running, Oz on her heels.
They had split up into two teams to cover more ground; there had been reports of attacks in two separate locations in the city, and it had seemed necessary. Xander had said that things in Africa were getting worse, but the same was definitely true here, too.
Rute, Matilde, and Linda were facing several vampires and a couple of demons, all advancing on them menacingly.
“Shit.” Buffy knew that there was no way that the five of them could handle that many enemies. “Rute! Get back!” She looked at Oz. “What do you think?”
“I can get two from here,” Oz replied evenly, raising his crossbow.
She thought for a moment, deciding that although the odds weren’t great, it was better than running. “Go low!”
The three girls obeyed her immediately, dropping and rolling to either side. Oz fired two bolts in quick succession, and two of the vampires crumbled to dust. Buffy sprang forward, staking one vampire immediately, seeing that Rute managed to get another out of the corner of her eye.
“Slayer,” one of the demons growled. “We heard you were here.”
“There’s more than one of us now.”
“But we want you.” His toothy grin was meant to frighten her, but Buffy didn’t scare easily.
Buffy glanced at Matilde. “Hand me your sword.”
The other girl hesitated only for a moment before doing so, then backing off to stand closer to Oz. The three demons were intent on Buffy, and the vampires were dust in the wind. She’d faced worse odds before, and the idea of a battle like this made her blood sing.
The only thing that would have made it better was to have had Spike at her side.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked them. “Bring it on.”
~~~~~
Arnold had been certain that Zoë’s refusal to see him meant that she hadn’t forgiven him for being unable to protect her—although he knew quite well that she wouldn’t appreciate the idea that she needed protecting. Still, he felt as though he’d let her down. He should have been more alert, reacted faster. He had been injured badly, but Zoë had borne the brunt of it.
She was certainly dealing with more consequences now.
“How is it?” he asked anxiously as she picked at her dinner. Zoë had been asleep while everyone else was eating, the trip from the hospital having worn her out. Arnold had been the one to cook, wanting to do whatever he could to pull his weight while unable to do field work.
Rhoda kept assuring him that no one minded, that they were all just happy that he and Zoë had survived, but he disliked feeling useless.
“It’s quite good,” she assured him. “Much better than the hospital food. It’s just that I’m not very hungry.”
He nodded. “I understand, but you do need to eat.”
“I know.”
Arnold watched her shove food around on her plate, and for the first time noticed the awkward way that she was holding her fork. Cursing himself for an idiot, he reached out and covered her hand with his own. “Do you want me to leave?”
Sometimes it was easier, he knew, to be weak when no one else was around. Zoë was unlikely to get much privacy at the school, but he would do whatever he could to ease her way.
“No.” She tried for a smile. “I don’t particularly care for dropping food down my front, however, and I’ve never been good at using my left hand.”
“It will take time to learn, but I have no doubt that you will,” he assured her.
Arnold might have tried to say more, but he heard the banging of the front door, and Rhoda’s voice calling to him. “Emrys!”
He rose, grabbing the cane that he still needed, and heading quickly for the front room. “What’s wrong?”
“Gracia’s been hurt.” Rhoda’s face was pale, and there was blood and dirt both on her cheek and neck. “It’s bad.”
He looked past her to see Teresa and Ximena supporting the injured Slayer, and he directed them to lay her on the couch. “Rhoda, get my kit. You know where it is.”
Arnold lowered himself to the floor slowly, kneeling with some effort. Gracia lay as still as death, and he felt his stomach clench as he saw the stain on her shirt and the wound in her neck. “What happened?” he asked in Portuguese.
“We do not know,” Teresa admitted. “We were split up. There were too many of them, and when we found her…” She trailed off, then crossed herself.
Arnold understood the impulse, and he saw Zoë’s good hand come down to check the girl’s pulse. “She’s gone,” she murmured.
Rhoda ran back into the room, first aid kit in hand. “I knocked on Willow’s door,” she announced, “but she wasn’t there.”
“That’s because I was outside in the garden,” Willow said as she entered the room. “How bad is it?”
Arnold was the one to reply, with a lie to soothe the Slayers still in the room. “I don’t know yet. It’s hard to say. Zoë, would you check the other girls?”
Her eyes met his, and she nodded, knowing exactly what he was doing. “Of course. Come, girls.”
Zoë managed to usher them out of the room, speaking reassuring words in the gently authoritative tone that she’d mastered.
“She’s gone, isn’t she?” Willow asked softly.
Arnold nodded. “Rhoda did the right thing by bringing her back here. This isn’t the first friend she’s seen drained, and we’ll need to take steps.”
“But wouldn’t it be obvious if she was turned?”
“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” Arnold asked. “Unfortunately, no. I’ve seen this before. We can’t afford to risk a Slayer.”
Willow touched the girl’s cheek gently. “She was so young.”
“Willow?”
Arnold half turned to see Oz standing in the doorway, Buffy leaning on his shoulder. “What happened?” Buffy asked, seeing the body on the couch.
“There was a problem.” Willow helped him to his feet. “What happened to you?”
“Three demons,” she said briefly, “but we handled it.” Buffy’s eyes strayed to Gracia again, and she closed her eyes. “I think I twisted my ankle. No big deal.”
Arnold didn’t argue, looking instead at the body laying on the couch. This was the part he hated about being a Watcher.
Submit a Review!