by Christine Francis

  Worf was looking forward to seeing his old Captain, and to spending time in the open air; even if it *was* in sunny, laid-back, southern California.  He didn't even mind Julian tagging along, and he certainly didn't mind Jake.  Sisko's boy was becoming a man, and Worf approved of some of the changes he was going through.
  "You may not find much to write about."  Worf warned.  "Archeological digs are rarely as exciting for normal people, as they are for archeologists."

  "I bet you're right."  Jake agreed.  "But what I'm hoping is, you and Captain Picard'll get to talking about your Enterprise days.  I'm sure there's some material for some really great stories, there."

  "Indeed.  We did fight some fine battles."  Worf gazed at the main viewscreen of the shuttle, where Earth filled the view.  "I doubt you will be able to induce Captain Picard to tell stories, though.  His attention will be wholly on the dig.  He can be very single-minded, when the mission calls for it."

  "The mark of a good commander."  Julian tried to get into the conversation.

  "Why did you want to come along?"  Jake asked the question Worf had been wanting to.

  "Forensic anomalies fascinate me."  Julian admitted, causing the other two to look rather uneasy.  "Can you imagine a whole town just dropping dead like that?  And if those readings are anything like what I've seen in the reports,-"

  "Dead is dead."  Worf groused.

  "Unless it's you."  Julian countered, with a half smile.   "I know the mystery's four hundred years old, but that doesn't mean it can't happen again.  And the only way to prevent that, is to find out just what happened in the first place.  Do you know, they've determined the exact date?  We're coming up on the four hundredth anniversary of the death of Sunnydale.  Wouldn't it be fitting, if we solved the mystery on the day  it occurred?"

  "Dead is dead."  Worf repeated, looking more than a little disgusted.

(SUNNYDALE, CA, 20TH CENTURY)

  "I don't know *what* they're up to," the tall pensive man chewed his lip, "I only know they're up to something, and it involves you."

  "I hate to use trendy expressions, Angel;"  a dark-haired boy interrupted,  "but, well, duh!"

  "Cool it, Xander."  a blonde girl paced the alley.

  "No, Buff, I *won't* cool it."  Xander raged.  "I don't know why you even listen to this guy!  All he does is get you all worried about what you already know!"

  "Look,"  Angel took a step toward him.  "I'm just as interested in keeping Buffy safe, as you are!"

  "I doubt that."  a thin dark-haired girl groused.

  "If you two are done with your macho display,...?"  Buffy pushed the two males apart.  "I think Angel's right.  Giles said-"

  "Oh Giles!"  Angel scoffed.  "Now *there's* an impeccable source!  He doesn't care about *you*, Buffy.  All he cares about, is training the *slayer*."

  "I trust Giles."  Buffy asserted.

  "So do I."  Xander agreed.  "And so does Willow; right, Willow?"

  Willow, the thin girl, just shrugged and rolled her eyes.

  "That's reassuring."  an older man, wearing glasses, walked up.  "Still, I'm afraid I have to agree with Angel; despite my own theory on his motives.  The Prince is planning something special, this time."  Giles glanced around at the smoking puddles on the ground.  "Tough fight?"

  "Managed to waste five."  Buffy smirked.

  "Without *Angel's* help."  Xander asserted, dodging Angel's angry jab.

  "If you two would stop tromping around in the evidence..."  Giles crouched down and began studying the vampiric remains, flashlight in hand.  "Ah."

  "Found something?"  Buffy asked, as she and the others crouched down to see.

  Giles wiped a finger in one puddle, then lifted it.  "If you look at the waste material-"

  "I'd rather not."  Willow winced.

  "-you'll notice the pinkish runny tendrils, mixed in with the usual putrefying green matter."

  "Now we know why they don't let him write the lunch menus."  Xander cracked.

  "What's it mean?"  Buffy asked.

  "Fresh kills."  Angel concluded.

  "Exactly."  Giles agreed, standing and wiping his hand on his trousers.  "Fresh kills are never very highly ranked, because of their inexperience and their ties to the living world.  They're usually used for suicide mission; as distractions, or..."  suddenly, Giles took a broader look at their surroundings.  Angel began to do the same.

  "Or what?"  Buffy asked.

  "Decoys."  Angel finished Giles' sentence.  "Let's just go back out the way we came, nice and easy."

  "For once, Angel, you and I are in complete agreement."  Giles began to back out.

  "Somehow, this alley seems a lot darker than it was when we came in."  Willow stared up at the narrow strip of sky above, expecting the stars to be blotted out by leaping vampires, any moment.

(SUNNYDALE ARCEOLOGICAL DIG, 24TH CENTURY)

  Worf!  How are you!"  A smiling Jean Luc Picard took off his sun hat and held out his hand.

  "I am well, captain Picard."  Worf acquiesced to the human custom of hand-shaking, just this once.  "You seem very well, yourself."

  "I am."  Picard admitted, with a nod.  "I'm in my element.  Who have you brought with you?"

  "Allow me to introduce Dr. Julian Bashir, and Jake Sisko."

  "Pleased to meet you, sir."  Julian shook hands with the legendary captain.  "I've come to observe, and participate if I may, in the exhumations."

  "Glad for the help."  Picard nodded, moving on to Jake.

  "I'm glad to meet you, too."  Jake tried not to gush.  "I'm a writer.  Well, studying to be a writer.  I mean; I'm hoping to...ah...find..."

  "Considering becoming an historian?"  Picard offered.

  For lack of a better answer, and not wanting to go into more inane explanations, Jake just shrugged and said "Yeah."; which drew strange looks from his traveling companions.

  Picard nodded, letting Jake off the hook.  "What I really wanted your opinion on, Worf, is over here.  I know you've studied ancient Klingon weaponry; and area I admit I haven't given much attention.  There's a knife we've uncovered, bearing some strange markings.  Looks a little like some old form of pIqaD (Klingon writing)."

  "A Klingon artifact?  Here?"  Worf wondered out loud as they followed Picard.  "It does not seem likely."

  "I know; but I've cross-referenced it with everything I have, and that's the only thing that comes close."  Picard led them to the busiest section of the dig; an old cemetery.  Near an uncovered mausoleum, sat a table covered with artifacts.  Picard took out a handkerchief, and carefully lifted the knife.  "Do you see?  Along the blade, there?"

  Worf took the wrapped knife, and sited down it's blade.  "This is not a very good weapon, though well made.  The markings do resemble some stylized versions of ancient pIqaD, but not close enough to actually mean anything.  These markings, the ones that look like punctuation or accents, are completely out of place."

  "I'm not sure it's a weapon, at all."  Julian observed, drawing the others' attention.  "It looks more like a surgical tool."

  "Interesting."  Picard said.  "I hadn't considered that.  But that makes the markings all the more mysterious."

  "They're runes."  Jake offered, quietly.  "I've seen them before, along the borders of the pages in a book."

  "A real book?"  Picard asked, taking the knife from Worf and showing it to Jake.

  "Yes."  Jake looked around, uncomfortable.  "In New Orleans.  But I could be wrong.  It was a long time ago."

  "What sort of book?"

  Again, Jake glanced around and shifted from foot to foot.  "I don't know how else to... I mean, I don't believe in that stuff, but... it was in a book belonging to a... I mean, a woman who *said* she was..."

  "Go on."  Julian encouraged him.

  "A witch."  Jake admitted; feeling very embarrassed, and very stupid.

  Picard rubbed his chin thoughtfully.  "Occultic runes."  he mused.  "I hadn't considered that."

  "A meaningless relic."  Worf surmised.

  "I wouldn't say that."  Picard set the knife back down.  "Considering it was found in what we've determined to be the epicenter of whatever happened here, it could be an important clue."

  "An insane cult."  Julian nodded.  "The twentieth century seemed to be teeming with them.  That might account for the strange energy readings and spectral analysis from the corpses."

  "A cult capable of destroying an entire town?"  Worf dismissed.  "There were many more realistic ways, even then.  I would suggest checking for some kind of bomb, or perhaps a biological agent."

  Picard was still rubbing his chin.  "Let me show you where we found the knife."  Setting his hat on the table, he led the way into the mausoleum.

(SUNNYDALE, CA, 20TH CENTURY)

  "But there are only four!"  The Vampire Prince raged.  "I told you, I need five!"

  "There are five!  Can't you count?"  a younger vampire countered, baring his teeth.

  "I said five, *besides* the slayer!  She is the center, and the others are at the points!"

  "So I guess this is pretty much pointless?"  Xander couldn't resist a crack, earning him a jab in the gut.

  "Leave him alone!"  Willow launched herself at the guard, but was quickly in his clutches; her hair pulled tight, and her neck exposed.

  "Stop!"  the Prince commanded.  "Already, we are short one!  Would you make it more?"

  "Let them go!"  Buffy demanded.  "It's *me* you want!"

  The Prince sighed.  "Oh, you western hemisphere heroes are always so predictable.  Couldn't you at least come up with some original lines?"  He turned to discuss the problem with his lieutenants.

  "Five points."  Giles muttered to himself.

  "Pentagram."  Angel said quietly.

  Giles nodded.  "If they find a fifth,"
 
  "We could stall them, by bringing the number back down."  Angel glanced around.  "I think I can provoke them, if need be."

  "No."  Xander recovered, turning to face them.  "I'll do it."

  "You don't know what you're saying."

  "Yes, I do."  Xander glanced over at the guard, who was trying to hear what the Prince was saying.  "If this comes down to a fight, she needs you more than she needs me.  If we need a sacrifice, I'm the one."

  Giles smiled quietly.  "Like the Prince said, you western hemisphere heroes are all alike."

  "Thanks.  I think."

  "No sacrifices."  Buffy turned her head.  "If I can just get out of these ropes-"

  "There are too many of them."  Angel reasoned.  "We need a plan."

  "Plan?"  Willow scoffed.  "What we need, is a miracle."

  "Sorry, Willow."  Xander said.  "I'm fresh out.  Except, of course, the miracle of my charm and good looks."

  There was a bustle in the entryway, and two more vampires entered.  There was a ragged human between them.

  "Who's that?"  Buffy asked, worried.

  "Crazy Bob."  Xander answered.  "The town drunk.  You see him a lot, wandering the streets at night."

  "In Sunnydale?"  Buffy marveled.  "Who would be stupid enough to walk the streets *here*?"

  "I think the name says it all."  Xander shrugged.

  "The vampires won't lay a fang on him."  Angel explained.

  "No doubt."  Xander cracked.  "If his breath isn't enough of a deterrent, his blood's gotta be at least eighty proof."

  "Take them into the chamber!"  The Vampire Prince commanded.

(SUNNYDALE ARCHEOLOGICAL SITE, 24TH CENTURY)

  The floor, walls, and ceiling were of while marble.  Hanging in the center, was a huge iron pentagram.  Inscribed in the floor below and the ceiling above, were mirror image pentagrams.   Large candelabras stood at each point of the star, the remains of chains scattered about at their feet.

  "I do not like this place."  Worf said in a quiet voice, peering into the corners.

  "You're not the only one."  Picard admitted.  "Since we broke through to this chamber, we've had a rash of workers who have suddenly found something better to do."

  "This would support what Jake said about the runes."  Julian offered, taking a look around.  "I don't doubt the knife was used for ceremonial sacrifices."

  Worf shook his head in wonder.  "Humans."  he muttered.

  "Are these scorch marks?" Jake pointed under the hanging symbol.

  "Yes."  Picard affirmed.  "And if you site down each of the points, you'll find similar marks on the walls.  Those scorch marks are the earliest signs of destruction.  Carbon dating varies slightly, as you move out into the town from this site.  We've pinned it down to anything from two days, to a week, before the entire town was destroyed."

  "So it wasn't instantaneous?"  Julian asked.

  "It would make more sense if it had."  Picard strolled around the skirts of the pentagram.  "That would be more inline with Mr. Worf's suggestion of a bomb."

  Jake nodded.  "If I didn't know any better,"  he began, then glanced at the others and shut up.

  "Go on."  Picard encouraged him.

  "Well,"  Jake stepped back toward the wall.  "it looks like someone's spell went sour.  I mean, not that it was the spell itself; but maybe they were doing something with some explosive material, and had an accident."  He shrugged lamely, and leaned against the wall.

  "No bones."  Worf mumbled.

  "What?"  Picard looked up.

  "If there was some kind of ceremony, with sacrifices,"  he explained, "why aren't there any bones?"

(SUNNYDALE, CA, 20TH CENTURY)

  "Hold still!" a vampire in a moldering leisure suite growled, while tying Buffy's limbs.  "There; you see?  We'll make a star of you, yet!"

  "He's worse than you, Xander."  Willow groaned.

  "Gee, thanks."  Xander tried to loosen the chains binding him to the huge candelabra, but it was no use.  He tried to move or topple it, but is was too heavy.  All he could do, was sit there helpless while the girl he loved was tied upside down to a pentagram.  He looked over at Angel, but the young man just shook his head.  No luck for him, either.

  "Cheer up."  the vampire finished the final knot.  "At least you won't have to watch your friends die."

  "You're gonna let them go?"  Buffy asked hopefully.

  "Don't be silly!  I just said you don't have to *watch* them die."  He bent down and pushed his hideous face into her's.  "You get to go *first*!"  He pulled the bunchee out of her hair, so it all hung down and swept the white marble floor.  "Oh, you *do* have a certain *look* about you!"

  "Leave her, Lester!"  Another vampire entered the chamber.  "It's time for us to go prepare."

  "Please,"  Lester ran his gray fingers through Buffy's hair.  "Call me by my first name."

  "OK, Maurice.  Let's go."

  "Maurice?"  Xander asked.  "Maurice Lester?  Your nickname wouldn't be Moe Lester, would it?  Geez."  he shook his head.  "You guys *are* worse than me."

  "I admit,"  Moe let go of Buffy's hair and stood up.  "Our jokes *are* a little-" he lifted one broad dusty lapel and sniffed  it.  "Stale."

  "How 'bout you and me go out for a couple of stakes?"

  Moe laughed.  "Not bad."  he said, then frowned.  "Too bad I can't keep you around, for laughs."  As he stood in the entryway, he turned and grinned.  "We coulda knocked 'em dead, together."

  Willow watched him leave, and shook her head.  "Vampires.  Ya gotta love 'em."

  "Was that-"  Xander gasped.  "I believe it was!  Willow told a joke!  Oh, my Lord; the world really *is* gonna end!"

  "That's it!"  Giles cut off Willow's response.  "I've been sitting here, racking my brain, and there it is right in front of me!"

  "Could you let us in on it, before all the blood rushes to my head and it pops?"  Buffy grunted, shifting a little.

  Giles chewed his lip.  "It's from a very obscure grimoir.  Of course, their resources are limitless.  It's entirely possible they obtained a copy-"

  "While we're young, Giles!"

  "It's essentially in a lost language!"  Giles would not be rushed.  "Only the faithful are taught how to read it.  But Stephen of Bourbon obtained a copy in twelve-fifty, translating it to Latin and adding it to his collection of maleficium."

  "Someone mention Bourbon?"  Xander gave the predictable quip, eliciting a moan from Willow and a hiccup from the up-till-now silent Crazy Bob.

  "So..."  Buffy asked reluctantly, "What's he gonna do to us?"

  "Oh, kill us."  Giles affirmed.  "First you, then the rest of us."

  "So what's the point?"

  "Well,"  Giles moved a little, "here's the interesting part.  He's going to do it in a very special way, to fulfill an ancient ceremony."

  "I ask again, what's the point?"

  "To open the gates of Hell."

  "Geez,"  Xander scoffed.  "Coulda seen *that* one coming, a mile away."

  "Shut up, Xander."  Buffy snapped.  "What comes next, Giles?"

  "Next?"

  "In the ceremony.  After we die."

  "General destruction of the world as we know it, I suppose.  No one's actually completed it.  You see, a *slayer* has to be in the center, surrounded by her lieutenants.  It isn't exactly easy to meet those conditions.  Matter of odds, really."

  "But Crazy Bob isn't one of my lieutenants."

  "If the Prince is willing to accept him, there must be some flexibility in the rules; just so long at all five points of the star are occupied."

  "Can we do something?  I mean to ruin the ceremony?"

  "Perhaps, but I'm afraid they'll still kill us."

  "That's not important."  Buffy dismissed.

  "Says *you*!"  Xander protested.

  "No, wait."  Giles began to smile.  "I see what you mean.  If I were to add a caveat to the chant, at just the right moment-"

  "We're going to die, and you wanna talk about neck ties?"

  "Caveat, not cravat."  Buffy chided.  "And sorry I snapped at you."

  "That's OK."  Xander shrugged.

  "So you can make it so the ceremony won't work?"  she asked Giles.

  "I think so.  Yes, I'm fairly certain of it.  But I'll need to hear everything they say."  He looked around at the others.  "I'll need you all to be absolutely silent, no matter what happens."

  Crazy Bob let out a loud snore.

  "That's easy for *him* to say."  Xander cracked.

  A short time later, the Prince and his minions entered.  They wore robes, and came in chanting.  Giles concentrated very hard, relieved to hear they were chanting in Latin.  As he followed the liturgy, he composed exactly what he would say when the time came.  It was simply a matter of timing.
  Long before the metal began to glow, Buffy could feel the pentagram grow hot.  Biting her lips and gritting her teeth, she struggled to remain silent- even after she began to smell her own hair and flesh beginning to burn.  The only faces (besides the vampires) she could see, were Xander's and Willow's.  Somehow, she drew strength from their silent tears as they kept their eyes on her.
  Suddenly, shafts of light exploded from her midsection.  She almost cried out, but kept her mouth clamped shut.  The burning was awful.  Each shaft of light terminated at the chest of one of her "lieutenants".  Behind her, she could hear Giles' breathing become labored, as he held off until just the right moment.
  And then, the time arrived.  Buffy could feel the energy increasing till she almost could not stand it.  Suddenly, in a pause, Giles' voice rang out strong and clear!  Utter darkness fell, with a clap of thunder!

(SUNNYDALE ARCHEOLOGY SITE, 24TH CENTURY)

  "This way, sir!"  an eager archeology student led the way into the chamber.

  Picard did not know what to make of it.  "Who are you people?  What do you think you are doing here?"

  "Oh, just hanging around."  Buffy managed to crack, before she passed out.

  Later, after Julian healed her burns, she hungrily attacked whatever food they brought her.  "Got any burgers?"  she asked around a mouthful of bean sprouts.

  "Burgers?"  Julian asked.

  "Never mind.  Some fries would be great, though."

  "Fries?"

  "You know; Burgers?  Fries?  Mc-Duh!"

  "Buffy, don't be rude."  Giles chided, entering the room.

  "Giles, where *are* we, and why are these people's clothes so *tacky*?"

  "Buffy!"  Giles scolded, then laughed nervously.  "Kids."  he said to Julian, by way of an excuse.  "They'll say anything."

  "I'll... leave you two alone."  Julian excused himself.

.......

  While Giles explained how his "caveat" sent them all into the future instead of the maw of oblivion, Angel and Xander pumped Jake for details of this Brave New World.

  "You live on a space station?"  Xander repeated.  "How cool is *that*!"

  "It's OK."  Jake shrugged.  "You get to meet a lot of people, and sometimes we get attacked.  It has it's moments."

  "Uh...Jake?"  Angel looked around.  "Any vampires?"

  "Not in the literal sense."  Jake laughed.  "We have our share of Vamps, though."

  "Oh?"

  Jake glanced around.  "Gentlemen, lemme tell you about D'abo girls."

.........

  Back inside the prefab, Julian was tending to Crazy Bob.  As some of Crazy Bob's essence wafted his way, he reacted before he could exercise his usual decorum.

  "He's a drunk."  Willow explained.  "I think he's *supposed* to smell like that."

  "Not much longer, he won't."  Julian muttered.  "Thank God."

  "Won't what?  Stink, or be a drunk?"

  "Either."  He pulled a few supplies out of a crate.  "Luckily, in the 24th century, we have a cure for both."

  "Got a cure for dorkiness in there?"

  "Excuse me?"

  Willow blushed furiously.  "Nothing.  I... I guess I'm what you'd call a wall flower."

  "Nonsense!  A pretty girl like you?"  Juilian chided, getting his bedside manner back.  "If the boys aren't lining up outside your door, you should enjoy the quiet while you have it.  It won't be long, before you're beating them away with a stick."

  "In my case, maybe a twig."  She looked around at the equipment.  "I bet you have some great computers."  She picked up a databoard, then quickly set it down when it beeped.  "Do you own a PC?"

  "PC?"

  "Personal Computer."

  "I have my own terminals and data links, if that's what you mean."

  "Main Frame, huh?  But what about where you live?"

  "It's all linked."  Julian said glibly, wishing he'd paid closer attention to O'Brien's ramblings.

  "Wow."  Willow said appreciatively.  "Like instant internet."  She paused thoughtfully.  "You don't have, like, computers that look back at you, right?"

  Julian laughed.  "You mean like in "1984"?  Big Brother?  No, it's not like that."

  "Cool."  She backed away when Julian waved a sensor at her.  "What are you doing?"

  "Scanning for injuries.  It doesn't hurt, I promise."

  "Oh."  she stood still, smiling tentatively.  "OK.  Are you, like, married?"

  "No."  he answered simply, looking at the scan results.  "I notice you still have your appendix.  Would you like to have it out?"

  Willow flashed on giving herself into the care of this hunky doc, with his liquid eyes and his juicy accent.  "Wow."  she sighed.  "Huh?  I mean no, thanks."  she smiled with a twitch.  "I've kinda gotten used to it being where it is."

  "Hey, Willow."  Xander poked his head in.  "We got a meeting."

  "Alright, be right there."  she answered, then gave Julian a smile.  "You know, being a doctor could be cool.  I mean, I could switch my major pretty easily, and my grades are pretty good.  Maybe we could talk about it?"

  Julian smiled.  "I'd be happy to."

  "Maybe... over dinner?"

  "It's as good a time as any." He reached out and ruffled her hair.  "You run along now, and see what your friends want."

  Willow's hopeful smile drooped.  "Sure."  she said, and scooted away.  Outside, Xander asked her what took her so long.  She grumbled something about beating someone with a stick.

.......

  "So it was all for nothing?"  Buffy demanded.

  "Well,"  Giles explained, "I wouldn't say that.  The world survived.  *We* survived."

  "Yeah, but all of Sunnydale went straight down the toilet."

  "Dunno how ta tell ya this, Buff,"  Xander smirked, "but it was pretty much *already* in the toilet."

  "Xander!"

  "No,"  Giles interrupted, "in his rather glib and inane way, he does have a point.  I mean Sunnydale was already the focal point of considerable negative energy.  When we were transported out, the whole place sort of imploded on itself, and sealed the gates shut."

  "Thanks."  Xander nodded.  "Except for the part about me being glib and inane."

  "What about our parents?"  she asked.  "Our friends?  The people we care about?  You're acting like their death means *nothing*!"

  "Of course it means something."  Giles tried to calm her.  "But the point is, it was four hundred years ago.  There really isn't much we can do about it."

  "We can go back!"

  "Impossible."

  "We got here, right?  We can go back."

  "He won't let you."  Angel spoke up.  "Even if you could go, he won't let you."

  "What?"  Buffy asked, looking at Giles, who looked away.  "Angel, what are you talking about?"

  "I've been checking the computer archives."  Angel explained.  "I've been looking at the files *he* accessed.  Seems you did it, Buffy.  You slayed 'em all."

  "I don't understand."

  "Correct me if I miss a detail, Giles; but the day we left Sunnydale, it was the beginning of the end for all vampire kind.  Sunnydale wasn't the only thing that imploded.  Scores of spontaneous combustion cases were recorded in graveyards and homes all over the world.  And after that?  Not a single sighting or vampire-related case."  He leaned against a pile of crates.  "Don't ya get it, Buffy?  The slayer slayed.  The ultimate success.  If he lets you go back and undo that, he has to go against everything he's sworn to do."

  "Giles?"  her voice cracked slightly.

  "That isn't all there is to it."  Giles tried to explain.  "All I did was alter the course of a power release.  I didn't *create* the power.   Even if I wanted to, I *can't* get us back."

  "But the point is, you don't want to."  she accused, waiting for him to deny it.  When he just looked away, she backed off and ran.

  "Buffy!"  Angel called after her, but Giles stopped him.

  "You want to send her back there?  So they can take another shot at killing her?"  he accused.

  "You two *really* need to find another chew toy to fight over!"  Xander  shouted angrily.

  "Oh; and like, you don't?!"  Willow accused, then took off after Buffy.

  Xander watched her go, bewildered.  "What was *that* supposed to mean?"

......

  To keep from causing any heart attacks, once Picard found out their visitors were from the past, he sent Worf off and asked him to stay out of sight.  Considering the frailty of most humans, Worf easily saw the wisdom in this.  Unfortunately, neither of them calculated the range of a teenage girl at full boil.  Buffy quickly cleared the main dig, and stormed right out to what used to be a residential area.  In fact, it used to be *her* residential area.  Tears blinded her, as she passed one roped-off dig site after another.  Without looking where she was going, she automatically bee-lined to the  place her house used to stand.  Unfortunately, that was almost exactly where a new dig was starting.  Helping at the new dig, was Worf.
  When she ran into him, she saw the sharp teeth and ridged brow and instinct took over.  Worf was a little startled by the attack, but as always, he was up for it.  About five minutes into a very exciting (though confusing) ass-whippin', Buffy yelled "Wait!"

  Worf waited, thinking this had been too easy.  Why would she yield now?  She was doing so well!

  "You're not a vampire, are you."  she concluded.

  "No, I am not."  he answered, more confused than ever.

  Buffy nodded.  "Direct sunlight, no quips,-"

  "Quips?"

  "Vampires like to quip while they fight.  They like to go for that whole intellectually superior thing.  It's like a hobby with them."

  "I see."  he said, not seeing at all.  "I am a Klingon.  Though, I doubt that makes things any clearer."

  "It doesn't."  she agreed.  "Nice moves, though."

  "Thank you.  You fight well, for a human child."

  "Child?!"  she scoffed.

  Worf winced slightly.  "Young lady."  he amended.

  Buffy flashed a smile.  "Thanks."  Glancing around, she recognized the dimensions of the roped-off area, and the direction they were facing.  "Hey, we're in my old bedroom."  Marking off the locations of her furniture in the dirt with her heel, she launched into an explanation of what led up to her appearance in this century, and how she felt about it.  Plunking down in the dirt, she sat inside the rectangle that denoted her bed.  "I guess Giles is right.  It is pretty selfish of me to want to risk the continuation of Vampires, just to save Sunnydale.  I mean, it's a pretty small town."

  "But it's all you know and love."  Worf hunkered down beside her.

  She looked at him.  "Yeah."  Waiting, she fully expected him to tell her some related personal story.   She wasn't disappointed.  He told her of Khitomer.
 
  "Had I the option of going back right away and saving my parents,"  he said, "I have no doubt I would have;  even if it meant allowing the treachery against the Empire to continue.  But, I was a child."

  "Are we back to that "child" thing?"  She sighed.  "Besides; would you go now?  I mean, now that you *know* how things turn out?"

  "No."  he admitted.  "But our situations are different.  I was a part of 'how things turned out'.  What happened here after you left, had nothing to do with you.  However,"  he gazed at her, "though it is a warrior's nature to fight, only a foolish warrior would deny himself victory simply to prolong the battle.  Perhaps you should close that part of your life, and move on to *new* battles."

  Buffy thought it over.  Looking to the side, in her mind's eye she could see her pillow and the pile of stuffed animals that just about covered it.  "Oh, mom."  she sighed, a small sob catching in her voice.

  Worf comforted her as best he could, despite the fact that Klingons are not the soft, cuddly, comforting type.

  "I should have known this is where you'd be."  another young feminine voice said.  Willow carefully entered through the markings in the dirt that showed where the bedroom door had once been.  She sat beside Buffy, and they comforted each other; whispering and sniffing and sobbing little sobs.

  Worf quietly edged away, clearing his throat.  Climbing out of the dig, he met the others who had been searching for the slayer.  He assured them that she was fine, and just needed some time to grieve.  At the mention of that word, it finally hit the other time travelers.  Giles had nothing to grieve for but his extensive collection of ancient literature and artifacts (he found a sympathetic ear in Jean Luc), and Angel had finished grieving for his lost family long before he'd even met Buffy; but Xander had a large collection of relatives  to mourn.  It was just so hard to believe people that annoying could die.  The more he thought about it, the more he realized he really did love his family.

  "That's it."  Xander concluded.  "We have to go back."

  "I told you,"  Giles insisted, "it isn't that easy."

  "No, it isn't."  Picard affirmed.  "Time lines are tricky things.  The smallest detail could effect millions of lives.  For that reason, any travel back into time is strictly regulated by a federal agency."

  "But-"  Jake began, then decided not to wait for an invitation to go on.  "what if we checked the computers and found what happened here didn't really effect anyone but the people who lived *here*?  I mean, if this place really was cut off from the rest of the world, why would the rest of the world be effected one way or the other?"

  "If the people who lived here don't die,"  Julian explained, "who knows what their descendants will do?  Not to mention, the alleged vampires."

  "Hey, I gotcher 'alleged', right here."  Xander growled, only to be scolded by Giles.

  "We could look into it."  Picard agreed.  "However, it's still a matter of *wanting* to go back, rather than *needing* to go back."

  "They *do* need to go back."  a new voice interrupted.  A Romulan woman emerged from the lengthening shadows.  "I am T'Piel.  I am a Watcher."

  "Why do all aliens look like vampires?"  Xander wondered to himself.

  "A Watcher?"  Giles asked, "You mean-"

  "Yes."  T'Piel nodded slightly.  "Did you think evil was restricted to your world?  Other worlds have had Watchers and slayers, since time immemorial.  Not since the time of Buffy Summers, though, has there been a slayer on *any* world.  Whole civilizations were lost, as those the slayer was meant to repress were allowed to run free.  When Giles spoke the words to banish *his* slayer for four hundred years, he banished *all* slayers.  As you have come to mourn Sunnydale, others are mourning whole worlds.  Once the Watchers investigated and discovered what had happened, it was decided."  Several other people, of various race and sex, emerged from the shadows.  "The Watcher Giles and his Slayer, must return to their time."

  Worf began to reach for his phaser, but a Bajoren male stepped forward and trained a disruptor on him.

  "All threats aside,"  Picard said evenly, "just how do you propose to do this?"

  T'Piel smiled slightly.  "We've had four hundred years to figure it out.  Don't you think we have a plan?"  She turned to Worf.  "You discussed the sacrifice of a few hundred lives.  I'm afraid your numbers are too modest.  The lives sacrificed by what happened on that day, reach into the trillions.  But you,"  she turned to Jake, "were correct.  Other than those who were overtaken by evil, the change in the time line will be minimal.  Evil is nothing more than a twisting or perverting of what already exists.  Without evil, the unperverted thing itself will prevail."

  "But what about here?"  Julian asked.  "Here, the evil was defeated.  By sending them back, won't you simply allow that evil to continue?"

  T'Piel lifted one upswept eyebrow.  "Evil defeated?  You must not know your Earth history, Dr. Bashir.  Or perhaps your interpretation of the eugenics wars is slightly skewed?"  She held up a hand to halt his reply.  "The evil here was merely dispersed and re-directed.  But still, it was only one of many evils.  With no slayer living, the evil that remained was allowed to run unchecked."

  "I refuse to be a party to summoning the same energies that sent us here."  Giles pronounced.

  "Naturally."  T'Piel agreed.  "That *would* be a mistake."  Suddenly, she cocked her head to one side.  "Oh,"  she whispered.  "I have anticipated that sensation all my life; but nothing I imagined can compare to it!"

  The others turned to follow her line of sight, and saw Buffy had joined them.

  "What?"  Buffy glanced around uneasily.  "Bad hair?  Dirt on my nose?  What?"

  Many of the Watchers shuffled forward to touch her; silently, reverently.  After, they whispered among themselves; casting envious glances at Giles.

  Delaying explanation till a better time, Giles simply said "Buffy, these people are going to take us home."

.........

  Worf was uneasy enough, being beamed aboard a strange ship against his will.  Seeing a Klingon at the helm, though, went beyond discomfort.  A Watcher?  On Qonos?  What's more, what would the existence of a slayer of Qonos mean?

  The Helmsman simply looked Worf up and down, and said "Tend to your own battles, brother; and leave me to tend to mine."  It was, really, all that need be said.

  Most of the rest of the crew was somber and silent, but there was a sense of excitement throughout the ship.  What were Watchers without Slayers?  They were nothing more than ineffectual librarians, more or less.  They were half-warriors.  Now, they all anticipated becoming whole.
  Giles was fascinated by how much of the Watcher/Slayer tradition was different on other worlds, but more amazed by how much was the same.  One after another came to him, for tips on how to find their other half once the time line was healed.
  Picard was more interested in just where they were going.  His questions were finally answered, as they assumed orbit around a planet they should not even have been allowed to approach.  It was a little out-of-the-way place, surrounded by marker buoys that warned all who approached to alter their course, and proclaimed the area as restricted  to all but authorized personnel (which none of them were).  As an archeologist, he knew what temptation lay below:  The Guardian of Forever.

  "So."  Buffy did a few kicks and knee bends to loosen up.  "Lemme get this straight.  You're going to send us back in time, so we're right back where we started from?  In other words, you're gonna let the vampires have us for lunch."

  "Not at all."  T'Piel said.  "We have given the Watcher Giles a counter-action, to negate the destructive effects of the summoning.  You will emerge into time just after your disappearance.  Unfortunately, it must be inside the chamber; but at least you will no longer be bound."

  "OK, so we'll be lunch on the hoof.  There's still too many of them for us to fight."

  T'Piel looked away, uncomfortably.

  "Great."  Buffy groused.

  "What if the odds were evened slightly?"  Worf interrupted, adding "Temporarily."  He modified his stance slightly, nodding at Buffy.  "The child I was, can never go back to Khitomer.  But I would derive a sense of satisfaction from returning this... young lady, to her home and family."

  "You can say child."  Buffy grinned.  "Anyone who pines for their Paddington Bear, could still be technically called a child."

  A hint of a smile passed over Worf's face.  "I know nothing of Paddingtons, but I had a pet targ, once.  There are times I miss him, still."

  T'Piel looked about to retch.  "We can allow it."  she said.  "Know, though, that if you die there, we can not pull you back."  She smiled.  "And if you bungle it and manage to be turned by a vampire, I shall take great pleasure in tracking you down, myself."

  "If I am turned,"  Worf gave her a full, toothy smile, "I will be certain to use my four hundred years to prepare for you."

  The Romulan looked as though the prospect intrigued her, but said nothing in reply.  Instead, she nodded and turned away, finalizing the preparations.  Before long, they were all standing ready at the huge gateway.  Images flickered, as a team of Watchers concentrated on getting the exact moment.  Not too far away, lay the drugged bodies of the sentries assigned to preventing anyone access to the Guardian of Forever.  Julian Bashir attended to them, making sure all would recover- once they were all safely away.  "Nearly time!"  a Watcher announced, and the time travelers took their places.

  "Guess the D'abo girls' will have to get along without me."  Xander grinned at Jake.

  "They're OK."  Jake shrugged.  "Not as good as someone you actually *care* about, though."  Jake shook Xander's hand.  "Take care of things."

  Xander glanced over at Buffy, then at Willow.  "I will, man.  You, too."

  "Sure."  Jake stepped back, and turned his attention to his databoard.  If he paid attention and kept good notes, he might get a really good story out of this!

  "I will."  Giles was saying to Picard.  "If, that is, I survive this.  Will you remember?"

  "The field generated by this gateway exempts us from the ripples in the time line."  Picard explained.  "We'll remember everything."

  Giles nodded; not really understanding, but too busy to get into it.  He joined the others at the gateway.  At the right time, they stepped (or, in the case of Crazy and Heavily Sedated Bob, were pushed) through.

(SUNNYDALE, CA, 20TH CENTURY)

  There was a bright flash of light, then suddenly the slayer and her lieutenants were gone!

  "You know,"  Moe pondered, "somehow I envisioned the end as... I don't know; bloodier?  More satisfying?"  His lapels flapped in a light breeze.

  "Shut up!"  the Vampire Prince shouted, cocking his head to listen.  That damned Watcher had somehow ruined it!  He tried to recall the addendum.  Something about four hundred years?  What could it mean?  And how the devil was there a *wind* down here?  Suddenly, the wind picked up.  "Ruination!"  he cried.  "The bastards have doomed us all!"  Shoving aside his minions, he tried to break for the door; but the crowd was too thick!  As the wind increased, the others sensed that something was wrong.  Panic began to spread.

  Suddenly, another light flashed!  Standing outside the pentagram, was the slayer and her lieutenants- and one other!

  Worf roared and raised high the batlh'etlh he had borrowed.  Buffy stooped down, jerked free a chain from a candelabra, and began swinging it.  Gathering a deep breath, to be heard above the gathering wind, Giles bellowed the words meant to work as a counter-spell.  Confused and frightened, the vampires tried to escape.  As they glutted the doorway, Xander grabbed down a candle and lit a fire under their asses- literally.

.......

  Later, the fighters made their way to the surface.  "Look,"  Xander was still explaining.  "I thought the whole idea was to win; right?"

  "I know, Xander."  Buffy assured him.  "It's just a little disappointing when you're expecting this big fight, and..."

  "It all goes up in smoke."  Angel concluded.

  "We had our share of kills."  Worf wiped the green goo off his blade, in the grass.  "And Xander is right; the ease of our victory does not diminish the degree of success we achieved."

  "Yeah."  Xander nodded defiantly.  "What *he* said."

  "Besides,"  Giles peered up at the dawning sky.  "It's far from over. The Prince, and a few others, most certainly escaped."

  "Are you sure?"  Willow asked.

  "Ask Buffy."

  Buffy stood very still, closing her eyes.  Her brow creased in concentration, and she sniffed a few times.  After a moment, she opened her eyes.  "He's right.  I can feel them.  They found a place to sleep."

  "Should we go after them?"  Angel asked.

  "No."  Buffy concluded.  "I think they're out of our reach, for now.  And... there's something else.  I'm not sure what it is, but something new is... "   Snapping out of it, she gave a quick smile and looked over at Worf.  "They'll be pulling you back, soon."

  "Soon."  he nodded.

  "I know the battle was no great shakes, and all; but thanks for helping out."

  "I am honored, to had fought by your side."

  "Yeah?  Well, hey; me, too."  She shrugged.  "Maybe now you'll want a kid of your own, huh?"

  "I have a child.  A son."  He glanced over at Xander.  "His name is Alexander."

  "Cool."  she nodded.  "Guess you're glad it's not a daughter."

  "The thought had crossed my mind."  he teased, smiling.  "Fight well, Buffy Summers."

  "You too, uh, Worf."  In a sudden move, she threw her arms around him and gave a quick squeeze.  She backed away, just as he faded out of sight.  The shocked expression on his face, stayed in her memory for a long, long, time.

(EARTH ORBIT, 24TH CENTURY)

  "Almost two thousand new worlds!"  Picard shook his head in amazement.  "Seven hundred of which, are members of the Federation."

  "Strangely fortuitous, that our numbers should increase in time to face the Dominion/Cardassian alliance."  T'Piel commented.

  "You knew?"

  "We suspected."  she shrugged.  "However, it was considered a side benefit.  We would have sought to heal the rift, regardless."

  "The excavation is still there,"  Julian interrupted, "but it's a lot smaller.  The town, or rather this century's version of it, is still standing."

  "The archeological dig centers around the mausoleum."  Picard nodded curtly.

  "Yes, how did you know?"

  "Because that's where the whole thing started.  I joined this expedition, because of the artifacts uncovered in that location after  a small earthquake."  he explained.  "The artifacts were from an even older time, so I wouldn't suppose that had changed.  In fact, just as Jake suspected, very little *has* changed."

  Julian nodded, and joined the others in the transporter room.

......

(SUNNYDALE ARCHEOLOGCAL DIG, SUNNYDALE, CA, 24TH CENTURY)

  "What is it?"  Jake asked, watching Picard and Worf pull a container from under a marble slab.

  "Giles promised to leave me copies of some of his notes and materials."  Picard pulled the rusted container to one side, and broke it open.  As Jake and Julian gathered in, Worf walked away.

  "Don't you want to know what happened to them?"  Jake asked.

  "Perhaps not just now."  Worf explained.  "I... would rather think of them as... "

  "Alive."  Julian concluded, with a nod.  "Maybe I could wait a day or two, as well."

  "Are you certain, doctor?"  Picard asked.  "In the interest of patient follow-through, I really think you should see this."  He held out a lucite-encased newspaper article.

  Julian saw the headline.  "Robert Caswell elected mayor of Sunnydale."  he read, taking it from Picard.  "Oh, my Lord."  he muttered, taking a closer look.

  "What?"  Jake crowded in.

  "Look at the picture.  It's..."

  "Crazy Bob!"  Jake laughed.  "I guess you really *did* cure him!"

  Julian laughed, too.  "He credits his success with fate, and excellent timing!"

  "Worf,"  Picard interrupted them, holding out a leather-wrapped package.  "This one's marked for you."

  After a hesitation, Worf took the bundle and unwrapped it.  Inside, was another square of lucite.  This one contained a photograph of two smiling women, hugging.  He turned it over, and read the inscription scrawled on the back.  "Mom and me.  Buffy."  He carefully wrapped the lucite square, and placed it in an inner pocket.  He thought he might have just the right spot for it, back in his quarters.

THE END

EPILOGUE

  Far down, in the sealed-off secret catacombs of Sunnydale Cemetery, something stirred.
 

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