The Last One pt.2 by 22 Claws

After the encounter with the Athena, Serenity escapes into the black. Simon, expelled from the bridge, returns to the infirmiry to find a surprise. Soon, River will go screaming with the rest of the crew to his rescue. Buffy goes to war in Bosnia, and is surprised in the woods.

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Chapter One

Run Slayer Run

A nine year old Buffy Summers kneels on the floor beside her little sister Dawn in their bedroom, praying. A gentle summer breeze blows into the room through an open window. It’s a warm night, but little Buffy gets a chill. “Now I lay me down to sleep... Something bad is here. Buffy gets these feelings sometimes. She’s never wrong. I pray the Lord my soul to keep... Some one or something is watching. Buffy clenches her fists tight in front of her face. Dawn, oblivious, keeps praying. If I should die before I wake... Must protect Dawn. At all costs. Little Buffy, nine years old, gets ready. She should be scared. She isn’t. She should cry for her mother. She doesn’t. I pray the Lord my soul to take.” Now! Then, Suddenly. It’s 22 years later. Run! Run! Run like hell! That’s all she’s thinking as Buffy hauls ass, tearing through the forest. In between trees, through thickets and bushes, her wooden stake, the last one, gripped tight in her right hand. Branches and bits cut and scratch her as she flees desperately, deeper into the Bosnian woods, hell on her heels. It is hell on her heels. A bloodthirsty pack of vampires hound her ravenously as she runs, deeper into the dark woods. They know who she is. Who she really is. They should. She’s been killing them all day. Killing her way to answers. Killing her way to Willow. The watchers were tracking these vamps since the bloodbath at the Pyramid of the Dragon. They directed her to the first cells. The first nests. Buffy did the rest. Massacre after flaming massacre. She hunted them down. Beat it out of them. Burned it out of them. Bled it out of them. Hell, scared it out of them. She still delights at how much demons fear death. She got her answers. She got her revenge. She got this nest. The nest. And, she got a name. The name she wanted. Drusilla. Then the sun went down. The watchers said be safe, wait for morning. It’s too dangerous. It’s too soon. Screw that. Will’s out there. Maybe hurt. Scared. She might be dead by morning. She might be dead now. That won’t Goddamn do. Buffy ducks the low branches and jumps fallen logs all the while running breakneck. The pack is closing on her. The woods are so dark. A moon covered in thick clouds offers little help. Buffy’s already breathing heavy. That’s bad. The vamps start to howl in anticipation, craving hot slayer blood. She trips and stumbles. Drops her last stake. Damn. There’s no time to chase after it, the vampires behind her run even harder. Some laugh. Buffy smells water, nearby. She changes course, the forest is becoming more dense and difficult to navigate. She heads hard toward the water. Some of the vamps are blasting their machine-guns, running. Some are yelling insults. They’re all hungry. They’re all mad. They all want her blood, bad. Run slayer run. She sees it now, the creek. She takes one of her grenades, jerks its pin and tosses it. Then, she leaps into the water. Burnt yellow smoke erupts from her grenade. The creek is shallow, not even waist deep, but it slows Buffy down. She pulls her last grenade as she hurries across the creek. She yanks the pin. She can hear splashing behind her when she reaches the opposite bank. Out of the creek, she pauses to gasp for air. She drops the grenade and starts running again. The darkness of the forest, the density, soon makes running nearly impossible. Just a little further. As she struggles deeper into the woods, she starts to concentrate. She listens. Listens for each of the vampires in pursuit. They’re all wet now. Small twigs and bits of grass stick to them. Buffy hears it all. She separates it in her head. What they say. If they’re carrying a rifle. If they are big or small. Fast. Slow. One, uses a machete. One, in back, drags a heavy sword. One’s really big. Big and mean. The ones in front are gunners. Fourteen vamps, total. Okay. Far enough. Buffy smiles. She’s not really winded. That was an act. She doesn’t stumble. Act. A slayers doesn’t run from battle, she runs to it. The bad guys just don’t always know where the battle’s going to be. Chumps. It’s an old slayer trick. She led them into the thick of the forest and now the trees nullify their numbers. They can’t easily attack as a group. That changes things. Buffy stops. Turns. Show time. Standing there in the strangled moonlight, Blond hair blowing in the midnight wind, she is a vision of slayer vengeance. Suddenly predator instead of prey. The first couple of vamps actually stumble at the sight of her. Her first victims. The gunners. This is going to be bloody. “Here we go.” She whispers to herself, solemnly. The daggers fly at them so fast the vampires don’t even see them. The monsters fall backwards, stunned, each with a dagger hilt-deep in his skull. Muddy, bloody AK-47s fall, forgotten to the forest floor. Next, charges the machete vamp, the vigor of his attack somewhat blunted by stepping over the first wave of his fallen comrades. Before he can act, Buffy cracks him hard in the jaw with a stunning jab. Then, follows with a heavy roundhouse kick sending him crashing backward into the next vamp who drops his pistol, cursing. Machete Vamp, jaw broke and blood running from his nose, charges back in a berserker rage swinging his blade wildly. Buffy sidesteps his attack. Snatches his wrist. Disarms him deftly. Then, brings his own blade around in an arc to sever his arm between his shoulder and elbow. With a maddening howl, he swings his stump spraying blood all over Buffy’s face and Genevieve blouse. Buffy kicks him aside, scowling. She switches the machete to her left hand, holding it point-down, blade-forward. The next angry vamp runs up. Buffy swings a mean lateral slash across his eyes. He has just enough time to scream before she reverses the blade and swings back decapitating him. Dust hits the forest floor. The Big Mean Vamp pushes his way through his bumbling, bleeding henchmen to the front to face the fury of the legendary slayer. “Now, we’re talking.” Buffy says confidently, just laying eyes on the monster. When he first climbs out of the brush and stands up in front of her he blocks out the moon. At almost seven feet tall and with considerable bulk, he towers over the diminutive slayer. He looks down at her with thin yellow eyes and a jagged fanged grin. “Get around her!” He orders, in a deep gravelly voice, to the vamps that follow. Buffy tries to close on him but he carefully stays out of her range. “Surround her. Don’t let her get away!” He orders. Buffy’s eyes dart back and forth making note of each of her enemies positions. “She’s mine.” He growls. He draws a Desert Eagle pistol from his waist and drops it ceremoniously on the forest floor. He then brandishes a gigantic hunting knife and assumes a fighting stance. “Buffy Summers!” He screams her name at her and the night as a bloodthirsty challenge. “Big and dumb--” Buffy answers. “--just how I like ‘um.” “Buffy Summers!!!!” The beast screams again with primal bloodlust and hatred. Buffy’s eyes narrow. “Come on, bitch.” She challenges. They circle each other in between trees, stumps and stones, Buffy ever-wary of her undead audience, and feeling unsearved by her enemy’s caution, decides to provoke him. “So, what’s up, handsome?” She asks with a snicker. “You’re not afraid of a little me?” Buffy winks at him, then frowns dramatically. “Maybe you and your little sorority shouldn’t be out roughhousing if you’re gonna be all dainty-like.” She taunts. Big and Mean dives furiously into his attack. He misses by a mile. Buffy laughs out loud. She hasn’t felt this good in years. He’s overextended in his failed attack but she doesn’t exploit the opening. Instead, she baits him. “You got a name, Tinkerbell?” She starts. “You know, in case I might want to yell that to the moon.” He brings himself up from the forest floor seething mad. He steadies himself. He realizes what she is doing. He very deliberately tries to calm down and focus. “You may tell them that follow or find you, that it was Gnash that broke you and sired you.” He answers. He leaves his knife on the forest floor. Now, Buffy attacks. She brings her blade up like lightning to nick his chin jerking his own blood across his face. “Hey Tink,--” Buffy shrugs, “--what’s that on your face?” She taunts. From behind her, one of the vamps attacks out of shadow. Buffy spins to decapitate him in a blur of steel, blood and dust. The other vamps back off quickly like scared sheep. Gnash tackles her when her back is turned. He pulls her high into the air, then brings her down hard to the forest floor. The roots and rocks on the ground crash and cut against her face. Old dry leaves and dust fly up. Buffy gasps for real this time. Gnash stands up. And up. And up. He has the shaken slayer gripped tight with both arms around her waist. He lifts her high into the air. Buffy blinks hard several times, corrects her breathing and tries to recover. She feels like she’s falling. Falling up. She seems to have lost her machete. The sickly moon peeks finally through the clouds. Gnash sinks his teeth into Buffy’s back. Then. Buffy’s back. Back in that strange doctor’s office. She popped the handcuffs. Now, she’s got some guy, probably the doc, by the throat. The chaos of the moment blurs back into her consciousness. She’s got the doctor, and a bunch of other people are all yelling and waving guns around. Two men, two women. One of the women is new. The other is that weird chick that shot her, back in the garden. Funny, she’s the only one not holding a gun. “Please, let Simon go. No one wants to hurt you.” The weird chick says. “Well,--” Buffy starts. “--since I can twist Simon’s head like a bottle cap, maybe I shouldn’t see so many guns pointed at me.” The new woman puts her gun on the ground, immediately. The men shut up and get all serious looking. Simon, Buffy notes, is surprisingly brave. “Buffy please! The weird chick pleads. “What?” Buffy asks. She blinks hard several times, corrects her breathing and asks: “What did you call me?” “Buffy. Buffy Summers. Your gorram name! Let my brother go!” River demands. Buffy releases Simon at once. Kaylee hurries him to the other end of the room. Mal and Jayne let out a collective relieved sigh. Buffy locks eyes with River and demands: “What the hell is going on?”

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“What kind of name is Buffy, anyway?” Kaylee asks. Kaylee, Simon, Jayne and the captain stand around in Serenity’s kitchen talking seriously. River stayed with Buffy in the infirmary. “Could we maybe try to stay on topic.” Mal insists. “I’m just sayin--” Kaylee mutters. “--silly name for a super hero.” “Kaylee--” Mal starts. “--We got us a serious problem, here.” “Haven’t we had this talk before?” Simon asks. “There is an aroma of deja vu .” Jayne offers. “Go hwong-tong! Mal swears. “My Mother used to say ‘It may be familiar, but it ain’t family’. In River’s case, we thought she might be dangerous. This woman, exceptin’ little Kaylee, has already hurt all of us.” “Um,--”Jayne raises his hand. “--also been somewhat damaged by the youngest Tam, no offense doc.” Simon shrugs. “How did she break the handcuffs?” Kaylee asks. “Good question. Those cuffs were cowboy rugged.” Jayne remarks. “Unbreakable.” Mal adds. “Her wrists were bloody.” Simon starts. “I just noticed, and she was on me.” He pauses, then: “ I guess River knew.” “Oh, hell yeah.” Jayne says. “She had us all down there in seconds.” “That woman could have killed me.” Simon says solemnly. “Easily.” “Nah, we woulda blasted her.” Jayne says. “I don’t know. She seemed clearer, more focused. Confident. Beyond confident, actually.” Simon says. “She seemed like she was ready for anything.” “If the cuffs can’t hold her--” Kaylee starts. “--If chains can’t hold her, how do we hope to keep her from, I don’t know, mass murder, mayhem, other activities not so much shiny?” The question hangs a moment. “Drugs, I suppose.” Simon offers. “We do still have the drugs from Orpheus. But, I know, River will be against that idea.” “River don’t run this gorram ship, I do.” Mal insists. “How long ‘til we reach Zoe and Inara?” “That depends.” Kaylee responds. “I might get us there in about ten days. River could get us there in, I don’t know, maybe thirty hours. Maybe less.” “Damn.” Mal curses. “What about Alliance? Have we seen any sign?” Mal asks. “Are you kiddin’.” Kaylee answers. “The way she flies, they ain’t even got time to notice us.” “Damn.” The captain curses again. “So, River’s not expendable.” Simon says. “No shit.” Jayne offers. “River’s dangerous.” Mal interjects. “I guess she always has been. But, this business, with this new woman--or, whatever she is--I don’t know.” “River loves Serenity. She loves all of you.” Simon argues. “She may be intrigued by this Buffy character, but she would never risk the safety of this crew. I promise you.” “I Agree with Simon.” Jayne says. That gets everyone’s attention. “Hey, I’m as surprised as y’all, but, there’s something about this gal. I feel it. Plus, River likes her, and she is pretty much smarter than everybody. And, she does love Serenity. “I believe that.” Mal acknowledges. “But, that ain’t the whole of it.” He continues. “This woman’s got enemies. The like we ain’t seen before. Monsters. Real monsters. Hell, for all we know she’s a monster.” “She is not a monster.” River interrupts, sniffing. She stands in the doorway to the kitchen. She stands directly in front of Buffy. “She’s just a girl.” Buffy steps from behind River. Her wrists have been bandaged and taped. River has cleaned her up. Dressed her in fresh clothes. Cleaned and combed her hair. She looks really cute. Buffy raises her hand to wave meekly: “Hi guys.” River takes her by the hand and introduces her to each of the crew.

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Earth that Was. December 11, 2012. Bosnia. Nighttime.

Buffy screams as the monster bites into her back. Not from pain, no, she screams with rage. She throws her elbows back with crushing furious force. Gnash staggers a moment, concussed and stunned by her attacks. He still holds her tight at the waist. Buffy brings her knee up a moment. She takes a knife from her boot, then sends her heel back, very hard, to his groin. That does it. He tosses her aside as he collapses, doubled over, to the forest floor. Buffy lands on her feet, holding the boot knife. “What’s the matter, Tink?” She asks, playfully. Then she stops. She hears something. In the background. One of the vamps. Heavy-sword-vamp. Dusted. No time to wonder on that, now. The vampires rush her. Too bad for them. Buffy is even stronger now. Fueled by rage. This is going to be bloody. She kicks the first attacker away with so much force he smashes into a group of nearby trees throwing broken branches and dust up. She stabs the next one deep in the throat, then rips the blade out taking half the vamp’s neck with it. So much blood. He collapses as Buffy pulls a throwing dagger and nails the next one hard, hilt-deep in the skull. He goes down screaming. In the background. She hears it. Another one dusts. What the hell? No time. The next vamp is up. He has her at gunpoint. He’s scared, though. “What’s the matter, kid?” Buffy challenges. He grips tight the pistol and cocks his head to the side, frowning. “You’ve got the gun. You’ve got the power, right? Buffy asks, her tone dripping sarcasm. She’s walking toward him. Buffy hears the trigger pull and dodges. BANG! “Too slow, junior. Try again.” BANG! “Ooh, snake eyes, Betty.” Buffy exclaims, as she closes on the vampire. BANG! This time Buffy ducks then leaps on the vamp. She grabs him by the throat and lifts him into the air. With her other hand she stabs him deep in the heart with her knife. She does it all in a blink. Blood runs down her arm. She brings his face right to hers as she twist the blade. “Have you ever tasted a slayer?” She asks. “One.” He gasps, his own blood dripping from his mouth. “One.” She replies coldly. She rips the knife out and he screams. Buffy spins. Steel, blood and dust. Gnash stands up. “Come here, Slayer!” He challenges. The other vamps back off. Buffy looks up, quite bloody, and grins. She pulls her last throwing dagger. Gnash charges. Buffy fires the throwing dagger. She hits him in the left leg, just above the knee. He screams as he falls in a big circular crash in front of her. This time it’s him tasting roots and dirt and dead leaves. Buffy draws the sword from her back, elegantly. Moonlight gleams on the graceful blade. Gnash looks up. Looks up to see the last thing he will ever see. Buffy strikes like the hand of a vengeful God. A very angry God. Dust hits the forest floor. After that, the rest of the vampires run away, hard. Those that can. But. Buffy isn’t done. Some one else is out there. She puts her sword away and sniffs the air. Then, she listens. She takes Gnash’s hunting knife from the ground and starts to move backward through the forest. Then, she sees her. Little Bethy. Crouched down very low like a cat against the forest floor, compound bow in hand, arrow ready. Holy shit. Elisabeth Kristina Ascue. Nine years old. Slayer. Willow took an active interest in the next generation of slayers. She researched their ranks. She selected the smartest, strongest, most gifted. Ten. Ten little girls. Feydekyn, she called them. Willow sponsered them. They got the best of everything. Luxury accomodations, world class education, primo equipment, and most of all, the best training. Willow, Giles, Dawn, and Buffy were all their teachers, along with experts from around the world. Willow believed these girls would be the leaders of the next generation, and for the sake of the future, they should be prepared accordingly. Each and every one of the ten is a prodigy, a masterpiece in the making, conditioned from a very young age, like a Jedi. Bethy, little Bethy, is their leader. What the hell is she doing here? Buffy stands. She walks among her victims collecting her daggers. Bethy watches, ready. “Are your angry with me, ma’am?” She asks. “Are you going to shoot me if I say yes, Bethy? Buffy responds. “No, of course not.” She lowers her bow. “You’d just snatch the arrow out of the air, anyway.” She mutters. “How are you here? Buffy asks. “Violet has a friend. She helped us.” The little girl replies. “So, you’re all here? All ten? Buffy asks. The little girl nods. “Why?” Buffy asks. Bethy stands all the way up. Looks Buffy in the eyes hard. “We’re all slayers, ma’am. Just like you. We all love Willow. Just like you. Where else would we be?

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“Hero. People have been tagging me with that one since I was a teenager.” A very humble Buffy addresses the crew of Serenity, specifically Simon, in the kitchen. “I’ve seen you though your sister’s eyes. I’ve seen you with my own eyes. In times of crisis, you are fearless and think only of others. That’s rare.” River smiles at Simon giving him her proud look. Buffy continues. “The bravery your sister has, she learned that from you. You should be very, very proud.” Buffy then moves on to address a very nervous Kaylee. “Kaylee.” Buffy says. Kaylee gulps. “You’re newest to me, but you remind me of a dear old friend. Gentle, Sweet, full of love and wonder. That old friend of mine, She turned out to be the strongest of us all.” Buffy moves along to Jayne. “Jay Cee. The only one that doesn’t want to bust a cap in me. Hello irony, my old friend. After everything you’ve been through, you’re an actual good man. Keep listening to those instincts, brother.” “Um, okay.” Jayne answers. “Who’s Irony?” He whispers to Kaylee. She shrugs. Buffy comes to face Mal. “Captain Malcolm Reynolds.” She says. “Don’t bother.” The captain responds. “I’m sorry I hurt you and your crew. I was drugged. Out of my mind.” She says. “I ain’t most worried on that score.” He answers. “Hugo.” Buffy replies. “How is it you know so much, so soon?” Mal asks. “I’m a smart girl.” Buffy answers. “Hugo was oldschool. Older than me, even. That means.” Buffy frowns and looks to River. “What did you call it?” She asks. “Earth that was.” River answers, wiping her nose. “Right.” Buffy starts. “Jesus Speilburg, I’m actually on a Godamn space ship. Any other bloodsuckers come around, I’ll handle it.” Buffy smiles. “Believe me, nobody does it better.” Buffy takes a moment to study the friendly decorated kitchen space. These people live here. This is their home. “Here’s the half-empty.” She adds solemnly. “My brains are back and that means I’ve got somewhat bigger salmon to sautee with lemon and butter, oh and crushed red pepper, of course. In e.v.o.o.” Buffy grins. Mal looks at Simon. Simon looks at Kaylee. Kaylee looks at Jayne. Jayne looks at River, puzzled. “You understand anything she’s saying?” He asks. “She means there’s a greater danger. And, possibly that she’s hungry. She hasn’t eaten in a very long time, actually.” River responds with a shrug. “Correctamundo, Mrs. C.” Buffy answers, pointing at River. “Whatcha got to eat around here?”

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Jayne comes finally to his bunk. What a damned day. He draws his long hunting knife in its sheath and places it on his night stand. Then, he starts to unbuckle his gunbelt. Serenity hums. Everything vibrates just a jot. River is back at the wheel. She flies really, really, really, damn fast. Jayne lays his gunbelt down. Takes off his shirt. Then. Something’s wrong. Jayne takes his knife from its sheath and turns around. Wash stands in the doorway to his cabin, grinning. “Hey buddy. What’s up with the new girl?” He asks.

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