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madimpossibledreamer~Dreamer~
Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Buffy's used to Slayer dreams, but this seems a little different.
Word Count: 1,122
Rating: K
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
Buffy opens her eyes. It’s not somewhere she’s been; fine, that’s pretty common in her dreams. It feels kind of like a Slayer dream, so very little would surprise her. The fact that she’s not wearing any of her fabulous shoes and is even, gasp, barefoot is a little strange, but then, that fits the setting. Kinda. It’s one of those typical Japanese houses, and she’s standing on one of those mats. There’s a bloodstained bandage lying next to what looks like a very wimpy sleeping bag, and that makes her just a little bit wary. She opens one of the wooden doors after figuring out it’s a sliding door, and that’s weird, but whatever. It’s pretty quiet, which is an architectural touch she can appreciate. A pond sits calmly ringed by some rocks and some trees just beyond, and…
Okay, maybe the guy sitting staring moodily into the pond with a plaid pattern that she recognizes would surprise her a little. Soundlessly, she pads over and sits next to him.
And he flips out. “Jeez!” Then he really gets a look at her with an eye, the non-eyepatch eye, and asks wonderingly, “Buff?”
“Xander. Why are you hanging out in my dreams?” She teases him a little, because Xander…well, will always be Xander.
He blinks, reddening a little. “I’m pretty sure this is my dream, actually, although…” He’s barefooted, too, and swings his legs over the side, just skimming the water slightly. The ripples pass outward, echoing, growing bigger, and it’s kind of mesmerizing for them both. He almost forgets he’s answering a question, right now, and she that she’d asked one. “…You know, no one else has ever been here. Except for the cheese man.”
She’s about to respond to that—he’s gotten cryptic comments from the cheese man too?—when she sees red skin somewhere on the other side of the pond and instantly reacts, drawing a stake that she probably shouldn’t have in her dreams.
A hand lifts up to stop her. “He’s…well, it’s complicated, but he’s a friend.”
She lowers the stake, but she’s still on edge. It occurs to her that this might not actually be her Xander. Before she can come up with a good question for him to prove his identity—and, okay, what would that even entail, some things could just be looked up or read using some kind of supernatural mumbo jumbo or something—he suddenly looks at her with urgency and fear. “Is everybody okay?”
That concern, compassion. That’s almost certainly genuine, but it’s hard to be completely sure. “Slayers have died,” she says bluntly, because there’s really no better way to tell someone the truth, and his reaction would be telling.
He swears and hits the wooden walkway hard enough to make her wince. She doesn’t think she recognizes the word, but it’s entirely possible that it’s something he picked up from his extensive television adventures or in Africa. “How?” He fiddles with his eyepatch, a nervous habit he’d picked up after Caleb that she’s not even sure he’s conscious of.
She nods. “Apparently the stone mask—”
“—makes vampires of a new and sparkly kind.” The face Xander makes as he finishes her statement is one of someone who’s just found a piece of particularly nasty debris in his food at a fancy restaurant and is weighing just spitting it out and getting thrown out or swallowing and continuing to stay on the good list. “Forget I said that; it was lame and I should never say such things ever again. I still maintain those aren’t vampires. They’re fairies with the insidious power of killing people with laughter. And I still deny knowing anything about the burning of Dawn’s book. Book-burning is usually of the bad, but in some cases it’s registering a justified complaint. Not that, um, I know anything about it. Because I don’t.” The babbling is characteristically her friend, and yeah, okay, so him knowing about something that didn’t really actually happen with Dawn was a good sign. “I saw the stuff on the news, and—Buffy—”
“The Scoobies survived.” She smiles. “And I’m totally okay with stopping of the growth of more Fords, because really, I need that to never, ever happen again.”
He relaxes. Mostly. His eyes are moist with something he’d probably deny if pressed as he stares into the water again. “I’m going to guess that not all of my girls made it, though.”
It hurts to tell him this, but she’s not about to lie to him, even if he’s a not entirely proven Xander. She shakes her head, sadly. It’s a good thing she’s sitting to his right so he can actually see her answer with his peripheral vision. His hands clench, and if she’s not mistaken his teeth do too. Still, with determination in his eye, he returns his breathing to normal.
“I’ve met Josephine,” she states bluntly, and the surprise and joy on his face couldn’t be faked.
“Right—so, then, did she tell you the stuff about Stands, or—well, she is a little paranoid at times, she might not…” He’s in babble mode, suddenly, and it rushes over her like a waterfall. She missed this and didn’t even realize it.
“How do you know what she’s like?” she asks. It’s a little weird, him knowing.
He smiles. It’s a little sad, but it’s more confident than she can remember seeing from him. There’s a power there that wasn’t before. “It has to do with my Stand, actually.” He hesitates, then continues, “Buffster, do you think maybe you’ve got room for one more in the ‘powers of destiny’ clubhouse? ‘Cause I don’t think I fit the definition of Joe Normal anymore.”
It feels good to talk to someone who understands. It would’ve been nice if it’d happened before, actually. All those times she felt so alone when there were people all around her. Maybe that’s what Cordy had been talking about, all those years ago. “I’ll make us badges. You can be vice president.”
It’s when he laughs, though, that it’s truly weird. Not because that’s not his laugh. It is. It just reminds her that it’s been a while since any of them have laughed that freely. Carefree.
He leans toward her and engulfs her in a hug. He wasn’t this strong before, she remembers, and suddenly she can hug back with all her strength and not worry that she’s going to crush him. Actually, she realizes shortly as she gasps with the pain, it’s her that’s going to get hurt. Stupid sling.
Instantly he pulls back with concern, giving her a stern look that kind of reminds her of Giles, and then holds out his hands over her arm. She asks what he’s doing, but calmly he ignores her, closing his eye and slowing down his breath. He breathes out, and suddenly there’s a glow, a healing warmth like the power of the sun. She blinks, and it’s over.
He pulls away with a fond, nostalgic look. “Tell Mom that Mercia’s son is actually with me. He kind of kidnapped me because he thought I was in danger, but he’s actually a good friend. You know, apart from his tendency to overreact to things.” He smiles and ruffles her hair. “Take care, Buff. If you die while I’m gone, I’ll kill you myself.”
She opens her mouth, ready to respond to that, probably with something along the lines of “Well, hurry up then” or something along those lines, and wakes up instead.