Chapter Text
You know what? She’s had it. Buffy is absolutely 100% done with shady organizations that sit back and watch the world, pat themselves on the back for their great work, and turn out to be evil.
Nazis! For all the bullshit she had to deal with in Sunnydale, she never had Nazis. Then again, considering how widespread Hydra seems to be, there was probably at least one Watcher that was involved.
Giles knew a bit about SHIELD. There were liaisons, he’d murmured, but he had no idea what had happened to them after the First slaughtered everyone. SHIELD had connections with the Watcher’s Council but The Initiative had no idea about anything Slayer-related? Buffy’s not super impressed with the interagency cooperation is all she’s saying. She knows that the others have debated it, getting involved, offering their help to the rest of the world—she’s not touching it. The world’s having enough trouble with gods and superpowered soldiers. She’s not about to add vampires to the list until it’s absolutely necessary.
That’s about half of it.
Okay, it’s not even half of it.
It is part of it, she says whenever she’s pressed on the matter, because it’s still true. But the bigger thing is that she doesn’t want to introduce vampires and werewolves and demons—but some of them are good and some of them are bad, except most vampires are bad, but not the ones with souls, but that’s a very rare thing, no, really, it is, really, assume they don’t until proven otherwise.
Not even touching the question of how many people will start asking questions about Slayers if that comes out.
The biggest part is that she doesn’t want another organization’s eyes on her. SHIELD probably knows at least a little about what’s going on with them, but she doesn’t want the full focus of their attention. Sure, “SHIELD’S gone.” She uses air quotes whenever she says it, which is still not enough to convey the full force of exactly how unimpressed she is with that lie.
Angel doesn’t seem to know much about SHIELD, Hydra, or anything else. Most he’s said is that he’s got sympathy for Steve Rogers, and that’s usually enough to make people stop asking questions. Buffy knows it’s a deliberate evasive thing, but she’s not going to call him on it unless it becomes a problem. (She also knows that Faith won’t let it become a problem.)
Spike knows more.
Spike was the one who told them about the Red Room, after Buffy wondered aloud whether Black Widow was somehow a Slayer potential who’d been passed over but gotten her power with Willow’s spell.
Willow had to leave the room during the story and Buffy didn’t feel much better. Only difference is that she can’t make lightbulbs explode when she gets too outraged.
“And you never said anything,” Giles said at the end of the explanation. That expression’s usually a precursor to someone getting eviscerated.
“No point.” Spike’s voice didn’t change from the low even thing it’d been the whole time. “USSR broke up, so the program disintegrated back in the nineties. Damage is already done. Least they’re not going after any more girls.”
No, but Buffy can’t help wondering whether they took part of their inspiration from Slayers. Nor can she help thinking that the Watcher’s Council would’ve loved to use their training methods. Wipe out all connections to the outside world, hone the Slayer into nothing but a weapon, throw away anyone that breaks.
They mostly manage to stay out of the way—off of SHIELD’s radar, not attracting attention from anyone who wears a costume like a uniform—until the day that Angel, Faith, and Dawn disintegrate right before Buffy’s eyes. She looks at Spike, grabs his hand, hoping against hope that he won’t—
“Buffy,” he whispers as he crumbles away.