Fiction- EBoN02- Birthday Dreams

Fiction Title: Every Bit Of Nothing

Chapter Title: Birthday Dreams

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Buffy the Vampire Slayer or to X-men. They belong respectively to Whedon and to Stan Lee & Marvel Comics. No infringement is intended and this fiction is for private enjoyment only.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Crossover

Type: Action, Humor

Pairing: Canon pairings for now, eventual Buffy/ Logan pairing.

Summary: The change from childhood to adulthood is a wondrously magical time, unless of course, your name just happens to be Buffy Summers.

Spoilers/ Time line: For Buffy, Season 3, Episode “Helpless”. For X-men, pre-movies with some ideas taken from the comics and the cartoon.

Feedback: Always welcome!

Distribution: Ask first please.

A/N: This fiction is a response to the “It's All In The Genes” Challenge from Twisting the Hellmouth. Please see Chapter One for full details of the challenge.

AN2: I have made a few modifications along the way to make the story flow better in my opinion and they will be explained within the story itself.

Every Bit Of Nothing

Chapter Two

Birthday Dreams

Buffy opened her eyes slowly. She stared, wide eyed at the ceiling, contemplatively. Which was not usual for her, unless of course, she had had one of her slayer dreams. And those didn't happen too often. Of course, it wasn't like her regular dreams weren't just as odd as the premonition type ones. They could be down right weird. But at least she knew that those were just dreams.

Last night, however, after that extremely worrisome fight with that Vampire, in which she had faltered and nearly been chow, it wasn't so unusual that she'd have bad dreams. There were a few that were normal, usual and typical to people the world over in some form or another, she knew that. Like having to take tests naked, having to speak in public, naked, that sort of scary stuff. It resulted from stress and from the brain trying to make sense from the sometimes senseless which made even less sense when one tried to remember it.

Those were typical dreams. Buffy sighed softly as she thought about it. The year before, when everything had been going down with Angelus and she had caught the flu, well, it was completely normal for her to dream of her cousin, who had ended up in a hospital and died. To discover that it had really been a monster, which she had fought and killed under the influence of that disorienting and hallucination inducing high fever, had helped ease that particular sorrow. She still didn't like hospitals, or doctors for that matter though.

Wiggling her toes, Buffy chewed at the corner of her mouth as her hands busied with folding the light down comfort back from her shoulders. Once accomplished, her mind turned back to the problem it was turning over. Why she'd had the dream she'd had. It held no connection to Vampire fighting as she sometimes had nightmares about. Turning into one, dying by one, being the only one to see them, or even the world being overrun. Those were the normal scary dreams she had after a fight got dicey.

So why, would she have a close call and dream about the day her aunt and uncle died? Unless, she frowned, the fight had brought up old fears, which were also new fears. Rolling disconsolately to her side and pulling the pillow down to wrap her arms about, Buffy tried to stifle a soft groan.

She hadn't dreamt about Uncle Chris and Aunt Kate since she had been little. It had happened again when a social worker had called to tell them that their eldest son, her cousin Scott would not be able to be placed with them, as was written in Chris and Kate's will. Buffy had overheard her mother's tears, crying again over the tragic situation, her father eminently grateful that their daughter had been spared by his brother and sister in law's quick actions that fateful day.

If it hadn't been for them, for Scott, Buffy would have died. Of course, if it hadn't been for their actions, Alex might also still be alive, not missing and presumed dead still after all these years. The nightmare had returned that long ago evening and had not abated until they were able to visit Scott, in the hospital where he was still recovering from the accident. She had been told later that Scott was being placed in a school for the gifted, a place that could accommodate his physical needs.

The headmaster of the school, Professor Xavier had visited with them at the same time and told them all about the campus and the school and some of the other students there. He made it sound like the perfect place for Scott to recover in. And he had added, they would be perfectly welcome to visit any time they wanted. Since the Summers, Hank specifically were Scott's legal guardians by court mandate, it was expected. In the end, it turned out to be a good move for Scott. He was even a teacher there now.

Buffy smiled a little sadly, remembering the last time she had seen Scott. Tall, thin, but wiry, those ridiculous glasses his doctor's insisted would be the only thing to ensure he kept his eyesight. He hadn't cried, though she had, but Buffy knew that he was torn up about her leaving. She hadn't wanted to leave, knowing what she was going back to. The fights, the anger, the cold silences. What she hadn't known then was that was the last summer before she was to be called as the Slayer. That her parents had decided to divorce and once her destiny was made known, that she would spend six weeks of her next summer locked in an asylum.

“No wonder I don't like dreaming about that day,” she whispered to herself. She heard a slightly knock at the door and turned her head to call out a little louder, as she glanced at her clock. “I'm up, I'm up,” she grumbled, sure that it was her mother. And indeed, it was Joyce, peeking her head into Buffy's room.

“Well I certainly hope not,” Joyce smiled broadly as she leaned her hip against the door. “Or else this breakfast in bed tray would go to waste.” Her fingers trailed a wisp of movement towards the floor.

“Ooh, brecky in bed,” Buffy crooned, pushing her pillow back up and arranging it to her comfort. “what'd I do to... oh right!” she answered herself, realizing that it was a date that she was well, sort of looking forward to.

“That's right,” Joyce encouraged and then ducked back around the door and Buffy could see her leaning over. She re-emerged, a full tray, with several plates on it, in her hands. Grinning widely, Buffy pushed herself to a seated position and smoothed the blankets down around her lap. Her eyes widened as she took in all the food her mother set before her.

“I hope you're going to eat with me,” she grumbled, lifting up a plate, filled to the brim with an omelet.

“Of course,” Joyce offered dryly. “Mother's don't let their teenage birthday girls eat alone. Just let me grab the other stuff.”

“There's more!” Buffy gasped, a little dismayed at the thought of going to school thoroughly stuffed. But when her mother came back a moment later, she chuckled and hastily set the plate back down to clap. “Prezzies!”

“But of course,” Joyce minced and upon reaching the bed, settled them within reach of her daughter. She then moved to carry one of Buffy's wicker chairs to the edge of the bed. “They arrived two days ago. I've been hiding them until now.”

“They're not from you?” Buffy frowned and her mother waved her hand away as she began to divide the food up for them. “Dad?” she wondered then.

“My present is your shopping trip this weekend, remember?” Joyce prompted and Buffy nodded happily. “And your father, I expect, will do his usual.”

“Ice show, yes!” Buffy smirked. “So that's you and Dad. Who are these from?” She reached for the four presents, one of which was quite large. She turned the tag over to see that it was from the professor. “Professor Xavier sent me something!” she shrieked and then began to tear the paper off of the long white box. Lifting the lid, while Joyce steadied the tray, she pulled out a short sword that she had been raving about.

“Dear lord,” Joyce gasped, one hand pressed to her chest. “I only told that him about that for a laugh.” She laughed a little, more from shock that amusement. “Buffy, what on earth are you going to do with that?”

“Hack and-!” she began but Joyce was blinking rapidly.

“Silly question,” she shook her head. “Sorry. Here, this one is from Jean and Orroro.”

“Them too?” Buffy squeaked in pleasure as she carefully set the sword aside. She paused only in the opening of said gift to grab a few bites of food, as the smell wafting under her nose was too tempting to ignore. She pulled the wide bow from the box and found that it was that holding it together. Instead of wrapping it, they had just put it in a decorative box. Joyce murmured something about using it for keepsakes or the like, but Buffy was more interested in seeing what was inside.

Both Summer's women's eyes gleamed as Buffy pulled an olive colored suede coat from the depths of the white tissue paper. “That's gorgeous,” Buffy breathed. She held it up to herself, realizing that she couldn't put it on without upsetting the breakfast tray. “Oh, they have the most awesome fashion sense and New York so close. Oh, I miss them!”

“I know you do honey,” Joyce nodded and then pointed her fork at the last two presents. “Now those are both from Scott.”

“Oh he's so sweet,” Buffy grinned as she pulled the packages, both smaller than the previous two. But knowing Scott, they'd be something excellent. He always did like to spoil her a bit. “I wonder if that's why I was dreaming-!” she cut herself off before the words came out, but Joyce, perceptive in the way of mother daughter things, for the most part, caught on quickly. Settling her bowl of fruit on the bedside table, she reached to stroke her daughter's hair.

“Oh honey,” she sighed. “You were dreaming about the plane crash again? It's been years.”

“I know,” Buffy nodded, her throat thick and full. “I just... I miss them.”

“We all do, honey,” Joyce assured her, cupping her daughter's cheek with a gentle hand. They were silent for a moment, remembering, counting what they had lost, before Joyce sniffled and then pulled her hand away to gesture at the packages. “Open them up, it's supposed to make you happy. That's what Scott would want.”

“Yeah,” Buffy nodded. Scott still had memory gaps from the accident and resulting damage to his brain, it wasn't just his optical nerves that had been hurt. But even with his few memories of his early life, he still didn't like to talk about the parents and brother he had lost. At least not to Buffy, Joyce, or even his Uncle Hank. Choosing one at random, she picked up the larger of the two, thinking that small packages sometimes held better things, or something to that effect. There was a note attached to several compact discs of music that had just been released. Scott had heard some of the songs and thought Buffy would love it. One was of a band that she loved, the other was new, but had been one she had wanted to buy when it came out. Alas that it was the choice between the music or shoes and the shoes had won that round. But it didn't matter now, as she had the Cd's in her hands.

“More noise?” Joyce teased and Buffy chuckled, busying herself looking over the backs of the Cd's while she snatched a few more bites of breakfast. Finally putting them aside, she opened the last to discover a very petite, absolutely lovely pendant with matching earrings. Buffy gasped as her fingers stroked over the pendant gently.

“It's so pretty,” she sighed as Joyce agreed. With her mother's help, she managed to extract them and put them on. Buffy glanced up from trying to see the short pendant about her neck. She wasn't having much luck. “How does it look.”

“Very grown up,” her mother complimented.

“I should call them and say thank you!” she decided enthusiastically. Joyce simply glanced at the clock.

“I don't know,” she sighed. “You need to finish eating and get ready for school.”

“Huh,” Buffy pouted. “Don't know why the birthday girl should have to go to school. That'd be a good present.”

“School's good for you,” Joyce grinned. She shook her head. It had been the same every year since Buffy had started kindergarten. Of course, she loved the parties at school, where in Joyce brought in treats or cookies, or something and the games and attention. At least until it became uncool somewhere about puberty. “All right, you can call and say a quick thank you.”

“Yay!” Buffy clapped her hands a few more times and Joyce stood, murmuring that she would retrieve the cordless phone from her room. Buffy, rubbing at one ear, to feel the little dangling bits swinging with gentle movement, used her other hand to finish her omelet, already planning what she would wear with her brand new suede coat. At least, the previous night's troubles, dream and fight, were forgotten for a little while.