Buffy Summers, The First of the Chosen Many, sighed as she dashed into the alleyway, directed by the sounds of battle. “Found them,” she radioed into her magical doohickey, and cut through the Gliarkh demon with her favorite sword.
“They’re demons. Their hearts are in their thighs,” she called out and demonstrated, stabbing the rising Gliarkh in the thigh and watching it crumple.
A woman, who really reminded her of Willow in full magical throws, all white hair and white eyes except with skin the color of mocha, sighed and sent electricity storming from her fingers, disrupting the flow of battle. Then she pulled daggers from somewhere upon her person and the battle began anew.
Buffy didn’t pay much attention although she grinned appreciatively when the woman with dark red hair and a white streak tore the rampaging Gliarkh in half with her gloved hands so she could slide behind her and take out the one threatening the guy with the funky goggles who beamed red light from his eyes.
The cavalry arrived momentarily and she shivered when she felt Angel close in but didn’t turn around.
“Duck, Jeanie cher,” she heard and then saw a card flung past her as another redhead (what was it with battling evil and redheads?) dropped down, the projectile embedding in a Gliarkh’s thigh and then exploding, the demon’s body shattering into meaty chunks.
And then it was over, the Gliarkh defeated and chopped up, Buffy’s team cleaning blades and the other team… staring oddly at them.
The redhead, the one without the white streak, looked distant for a moment, and then smiled as she approached. “You must be the one that Professor Xavier spoke to. I’m Jean. Jean Grey.”
Buffy grinned as she shook Jean’s hand. “Oh no. He spoke to Giles, my Watcher. I’m Buffy Summers, the Head Vampire Slayer, Apocalypse Stopper and… well… whatever it is I do now…” She glanced at Angel, her smile hidden in her eyes. “Outreach or something.”
The other team turned as one to the guy with the funny goggles as he stepped forward. “Summers?”
She blinked. “You know, usually it’s the Vampire Slayer part that gets them. Yeah Summers is my last name. Why?”
“My name is Scott Summers,” he said and his hands twitched as if he wanted to stuff them in his pockets.
She tilted her head, studying him carefully. “I had a cousin named Scott. He died in a plane crash a long time ago with my Uncle Chris, Aunt Kat and my other cousin Alex.” Angel moved closer to her, her partner; her shadow.
The short guy with the wild hair, who had just been slicing and dicing demons with the blades that emerged from his hands, smacked himself in the forehead. “Only you, Cyke.”
The self-named Scott Summers stepped closer. “We were in a plane crash but we didn’t die. Other… things happened.”
Buffy leaned towards Angel subtly. “Then I guess we have a few more things to talk about when we get back to your base.”
“Now hold on just a moment, sugah,” the redhead with the white lock interrupted, her voice drawling with the tang of the South. “So you’re another of Scott’s long lost amazing relatives? How many does that make now?”
“Alex is one. He’s useful in a fight and he has a bloody wicked sense of humor. Christopher. He gets at least a point and a half for being an awesome space pirate. Cable… do we count Cable as one or do we give him at least double points for being amazing and facing off with Big Blue N Ugly?” a slim woman with purple hair started counting off on her fingers, her British accent warmly familiar to Buffy.
“Double,” agreed the man with white wings fluttering gently behind him, “But I’m not sure if we give Gabriel points.”
Buffy blinked. Were they really counting amazing Summers relatives? “I have a sister,” she offered. “Dawn is actually a mystical object given human form.”
“I say give Gabriel a point, mon ami. He may be evil but the homme has style,” the man who threw the card earlier said. He drew a hand through his messy auburn hair and grinned at Buffy. “And you, mon cher, get at least two points. If Dawn is half as belle as you, she gets two as well.”
The Southern redhead rolled her eyes. “I apologize for Gambit. He’s an idiot.”
“Not completely wrong,” the short man disagreed gruffly.
“What about Rachel?” the winged man cut in. “She is rather badass.”
“Right, she gets a point,” the purple haired woman agreed.
“How is it that Cyke has collected so many amazing relatives when he’s such a dud?” the short man demanded with a quick grin.
Silence reigned in the alley, kicked around the demon parts and wound through the many boots taking up space on the dirty pavement.
“Changeling,” the purple haired woman suggested. “Either that or it’s his secondary mutant power.”
“Hey!” Scott objected, crossing his arms over his chest.
The white haired woman, whose eyes were now blue, smiled gently. “Let’s take this back to the mansion, shall we? It sounds like we all have a lot to talk about.”
As Buffy, Angel, and the rest of their team followed the group to what was apparently a cloaked jet sitting on a New York City rooftop, the purple haired woman nudged Buffy’s shoulder. “Tell the truth. He was definitely switched at birth, right?”
Buffy laughed. Usually all her drama came from being a Slayer. Clearly, things were about to change.