Attack of the Killer... Squirrel?

[Buffy Summers]

Cleveland, Ohio
2005

~Buffy Summers~

A cemetery. Why did she always end up tromping through a cemetery? Buffy sighed as she walked between the headstones, her breath coming out in a white cloud of mist. It was chilly in Cleveland and she was wearing a heavy white ski jacket over a sweater. A scarf and a pair of thin gloves were her accessories of choice.

She stopped when she heard the sound of leaves and twigs crunching. She tilted her head to listen for any other sign of movement. It could have been an animal.

It also could have been something slimey, fangy, or God forbid screechy getting ready to try to rip her throat out. She pulled a stake out of her coat pocket, just in case.

Buffy’s muscles tightened and she was on alert, ready to strike at whatever jumped out at her. She frowned as a squirrel scurried across the grass and disappeared into a hole in the cemetery’s stone wall. She sighed and relaxed her stance. She was both relieved and disappointed, a strange combination. Fighting for your life was never fun, but preparing yourself to fight something only to find out there was nothing to fight was kind of lame.

Plus, she was bored out of her mind.

[Whistler]

Buffy Summers. This generation’s original Slayer. She’s somethin’ else. To tell you the truth, I didn’t think she’d last long. Most Slayers don’t. It’s sort of an occupational hazard. Even Buffy’s died twice, but she’s still hanging around. She’s always been the type to bend the rules.

Hey, maybe that’s a good thing.

With Glory back in action making this new universe and trying to build an army, or whatever, the Powers That Be took notice. Who could blame ‘em? So they started collecting champions, like Glory seemed to be doing. She brought in Connor and Faith, and it seemed like she’d swiped a few other people too, but things are a little blurry there and I’m not really clear on the details.

Anyway, the point is, the Powers needed their own team to send in to make sure the end of the world didn’t happen. We all know how much that would suck. So far they’d recruited Willow and Tara. No surprise that Buffy was on their champion list. She’d taken Glory down before, but it hadn’t been easy. She’d needed a lot of help, special weapons, and in the end she still died. She’d have to be prepared.

That’s where I come in.

“Probably a good move not to stake him,” I said, nodding to the squirrel. “Then his family would come after you, and those furry woodland types can be vicious in a group.”

I walked up to her casually, half expecting a stake to come flying at my face. Me and the Slayer weren’t exactly pals, not surprising since every time I show up it means she’s gotta do something inconvenient and difficult without much explanation.

I nodded to her. “Nice jacket.”

It couldn’t hurt to start with a compliment. After all, she had a tough road ahead of her. My job’s tough, but if I had a choice to switch places with Buffy Summers… Well, let’s just say being a messenger’s not so bad.

[Buffy Summers]

Buffy spun around at the sound of the voice, back in attack mode. She felt her stomach sink when she saw who it was. Whistler. A spokesman for the guys upstairs, sporting a slight case of demon and a questionable fashion sense at best. She glared at him when he said ‘nice coat,’ looking down at her ensemble and giving him a look.

“Wish I could say the same to you,” she muttered.

She relaxed her stance slightly, but remained alert. Whistler was a non-combative kind of guy, but whatever he was about to say probably wasn’t going to earn him any love on her part.

“I’m guessing this isn’t a social call, so spill. You need me to kill someone I love? Maybe die to save the world again?”

She folded her arms across her chest. No, she wasn’t bitter. Not at all.

[Whistler]

“Wish I could say the same to you.”

“Ooh, harsh.”

I took a few steps closer and stopped a few feet in front of her, now that I was pretty sure she wasn’t going to use me for target practice.

“I’m guessing this isn’t a social call, so spill. You need me to kill someone I love? Maybe die to save the world again?”

Right down to business. Good. I hate small talk.

“It’s been tough,” I said. “I get that. And I wish I could tell you things are gonna get easier. But they’re not.”

I doubted she’d be surprised to hear that. Life was one battle after another for a Slayer. She’d learned that tenfold. She’d be fighting ‘til the day she died for good, and nothing was going to change that.

“I need to take you somewhere,” I said. “And it’s not gonna be a vacation, so you might wanna brace yourself.”

There was a bright flash of light before she could say much. I hated to do it that way, but I didn’t have much of a choice. I had places to be, people to recruit, and I didn’t really have time to debate.

When Buffy looked around, she’d be standing in the basement of old Sunnydale High School – the Hellmouth.

“Sorry about that,” I said, “but I had to get you here.”

[Buffy Summers]

Buffy stood there with her arms folded as Whistler talked. She didn’t know what this conversation was going to be about, but she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be loving it. Messengers from the Powers That Be didn’t usually come bearing happy news.

“It’s been tough. I get that. And I wish I could tell you things are gonna get easier. But they’re not.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course they’re not. Story of my life.”

“I need to take you somewhere.”

Buffy raised an eyebrow. Was that a pick-up line? Eww. Creepy.

“And it’s not gonna be a vacation, so you might wanna brace yourself.”

“Wait, we’re taking me where now? Ooh!”

Even as Buffy was asking the question there was a bright flash of light and she felt a bizarre, queasy-all-over pulling sensation that made her feel like she was on a really intense roller coaster. Thankfully, the feeling faded within a few seconds. She swayed on her feet as a wave of lingering dizziness washed over her, and then it was gone.

“Sorry about that, but I had to get you here.”

Buffy blinked as she looked around, realizing she was no longer in a cemetery. She wasn’t even outside.

“Get me… where?”

Her voice trailed off mid-way through the question, her mind answering it for her as she recognized the place.

She was in the basement of Sunnydale High School. That wasn’t possible. Sunnydale was gone – wiped off the map. She and her friends had destroyed it, closed the Hellmouth. Her eyes widened and she glared at Whistler.

“You better start explaining or you’re gonna get a stylish boot jammed into your face.”

[Whistler]

That Buffy, she’s a pistol. Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t expect the Slayer to be happy about being dragged back to the town that killed her twice, and was supposed to be a giant crater. But, this wasn’t exactly the same Sunnydale. It was a copy. An eerily accurate carbon copy.

“You better start explaining or you’re gonna get a stylish boot jammed into your face.”

I held up my hands.

“Hey, easy. Don’t stomp the Messenger.”

I took a few steps toward her. Getting in arms reach of a pissed off Slayer wasn’t really a good idea, but I was willing to risk it.

“Okay. Here’s the thing,” I said. “This isn’t Sunnydale High. Well, it is, but it isn’t. It’s a copy. You see, we’re standing in one of those alternate versions of Sunnydale that seem to be all the rage these days. I don’t have much time to fill you in on the details, so listen up. The Powers think your old pal Glory the Hell God’s responsible for this whole thing. I know – bad news, right? We don’t know what she’s planning, or why she’s planning it, but it looks like she’s got herself a champion. Some scrappy demon-spawn type, and she’s trying to snag more people. So, the Powers are collecting their own A-Team to counter whatever Glory pulls in. You were the last one to take her down, so… Here you are. Tough break, kid.”

[Buffy Summers]

Buffy wrinkled her brows as she listened to Whistler. He didn’t really leave much room for interruption. He seemed to be in a rush to explain things. That was fine. She was in a rush for him to leave her alone.

But, just like she thought, this news was not of the good.

“Wait – Glory? Glory’s dead. Or… Ben was dead. This can’t be happening,” she muttered.

With a sigh, she raked a hand through her hair.

“Okay, so if the Powers That Be are so worried about Glory sucking her entourage into this place, why don’t they yank them out of here instead of dragging me in?”

[Whistler]

I shook my head. “I wish it was that easy, kid. Truth is, only certain kinds of things can come in and out of this place, unless a portal opens up someplace or something.”

I decided not to mention the fact that the whole random portal thing seemed to be happening a lot. There was a good chance the second I got out of there she’d try to find one and zap herself right out of there. Then I’d have to drag her back again, and that just wouldn’t be fun for either of us.

“Good news is, you’re not alone. You got back up, and there are definitely weapons hangin’ around somewhere. You just gotta find ‘em.”

I sighed. Damn, I hated this job sometimes.

“Listen, I know this is tough and you probably hate me, but you’re the best champion we got.”

Before she could keep yakking at me, there was another flash of light and I got swallowed up by a portal. Not that I wouldn’t have loved stickin’ around to argue with her, but I had places to go, and people to transport to alternate dimensions.

[Buffy Summers]

Buffy frowned as Whistler talked about portals, back up, and weapons. It was all too much too fast for her to process. This couldn’t be happening. None of it. Glory, Sunnydale, a new dimension, some kind of evil champion. Who else was here? Oh, God, who else had gotten dragged into this place?

“Listen, I know this is tough and you probably hate me,” Whistler said, “but you’re the best champion we got.”

“God, what is it with you?” she snapped. “You think you can just poof into my life and…”

But as she started talking there was a bright flash of light and then he was gone. The rest of her sentence died in her throat. She looked around, just in case, even though she knew she’d just been abandoned, and she sighed.

“I really don’t like him,” she muttered.

[Wolfram & Hart]

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