Fray took a step backward. Both of her eyebrows made a dark line on her face. She shook her head like a little kid, and shook it hard.
"Nuh uh." She bit her lower lip. "You're messin' with me. 2011 is... is... 200 years ago."
As she said it, though, she was realizing it made sense. The way things looked here, the fact that she was on the actual ground with actual trees, that the sky was blue (!)....
She took a deep breath. "Jesus."
What happened in 2011? What did she know about it? She tried to think. All of those books, the Watcher's Diaries...
Buffy! Buffy was alive! Buffy and... and... the other one. What was her name? Fray couldn't remember. It'd come to her, though. It was just a much more common name that freakin' Buffy. Who named their child that? Like, ever?
Ever hear of a Hellmouth?
Fray kept her eyes on the guy and calmly reached for the scythe. She spun it off of her back and into both of her hands and held in it front of her like she was staving Harry off.
Yes, she had heard of a Hellmouth. Rupert Giles wrote all about them. So did Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, before his death. There was one in California, and Buffy led a battle to close it against a horde of Uber-vamps and The First Evil. In that battle, William the Bloody was killed. Willow Rosenberg worked a spell that split the slayer line into a thousand pieces. But by the time Fray and Harth were born, that line went back into place. Into one.
Well, two.
This guy might be messing with her. He might be a Watcher. Maybe this was when they started to go completely splin and fanatical.
"I don't know who you are, but you can't be a lurk because the sun's out, so that leaves possibly a Watcher. I don't trust Watchers. Two Hellmouths. One in Sunnydale, one in Cleveland. And if it's 2011, like you're tellin' me, the Sunnydale one's in a bind. One that's bein' taken care of. I read all about it."